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puckinghischier · 18 days

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Jersey Talk

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader finds herself engaging in a lot of jersey talk

notes: part 3 of my lil unnamed nico series!! i loved writing this part and hope you enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 also, i didn’t really proofread so ignore any mistakes. and just a disclaimer, i don’t claim to know everything there is to know about any of the players mentioned in my writing, so if there’s inaccuracies on timelines or personality traits, just ignore them and assume it’s for the plot 😌

p.s.!! i’m thinking about starting a tag list for this/any of my writing i post so if you want to be a part of that, let me know!!

part 1, part 2, part 4

[6.4k]

You absolutely love how foot travel friendly New Jersey is. Coming from an area where foot travel is virtually nonexistent, the change is a welcomed one. You appreciate being able to simply grab your favorite totes, your headphones, and make the fifteen-minute walk to the small corner store. Surely in the winter you’ll feel differently about the five-block trek, but hopefully you’ll have your car by then. For now, the comfortable Autumn air makes the walk enjoyable. The fresh air, the beautiful buildings, and the surprising friendliness of the strangers you pass on the street make you feel like you made the right decision in relocating your life to the garden state.

Luckily this grocery run was fairly light, only needing to pick up some essentials until one of the boys gives you a ride to the larger chain grocery store on one of their upcoming off days. You really just needed the ingredients to make dinner tonight, making good on your promise to be their personal shopper and occasional chef in exchange for a place to live. You even stopped in a small bakery about a block from your apartment and picked up a few assorted pastries for a sweet treat later, knowing how much Luke loves his dessert.

As you walk into the apartment, courtesy of your shiny new key Jack gave you last week, you see both him and Luke on the couch, each with one hand on an iPad held out so both could view the contents on the screen. You assume they’re watching game film, preparing for their game later in the week against the Rangers. Your assumption is confirmed when you hear the unmistakable sound of sticks slapping against pucks and ice coming from the iPad in question.

They’re both so engrossed in the game film on the screen that they have no clue that you’ve even walked through the door. You make your way to the kitchen to unload what’s in your hands, putting away what little groceries you bought. Once you’re finished in the kitchen, you make your way back out into the living room, wanting to catch up with your roommates on how their midday practice had gone. As you walk towards the living area, rounding the loveseat adjacent to the sectional where the boys sit, Luke catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye. His body jerks slightly, clearly startled until he notices its only you.

“Oh my god you just scared the shit out of me,” you hear him exhale, holding his hand to his chest.

You just chuckle as you see Jack whip his head up, confused as to what Luke was referring to until he saw you sitting down, tucking your feet up under your legs to get comfortable.

“When did you get home? Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asks, pausing the game film and sitting the iPad on the small coffee table in the center of the room.

“No, you two were just lost in hockey land when I came in. I went to the corner mart a few blocks down to get stuff to make dinner, then put it all away before coming in here. Thought I’d give you guys a few more minutes before I came in here and interrupted,” you replied, resting your chin on your hands that are placed on the arm of the loveseat.

“Well, you have our full attention now. What’s up?” Jack leans back into the couch once again, stretching his arms above his head.

“Just wanted to talk to my boys. See how practice went today. Figure out how you guys are going to fare against the Rags,” you throw in a small dig at their biggest rival team.

“The Rags? Since when do you participate in hockey talk?” Luke chimes into the conversation, laughing slightly at your attempt to assimilate into the world of hockey.

“Since I overheard a conversation at this cute little bakery down the street. While I was waiting in line there was a man in front of me with a Devils hat on and the guy working the counter was asking him about his thoughts on the game this week. He was talking about how much he wishes ‘the boys can pull their heads out of their asses and beat the damn Rags’ and I thought it was funny. Figured I should probably adopt the local vernacular if I want to fit in around here. You know, participate in the Jersey talk,” you recall with a shrug of your shoulders.

The two brothers let out a little chuckle at your story, amused at your attempt to insert yourself into their world. The two of them and Quinn taught you a lot about how hockey is played and the rules over the years, but their hope of you fully getting involved in all of the aspects of hockey and the fanbase quickly dissolved. They would sit and force you to watch reruns of games with them over the summer at the lake, and you would sit there and whine because of how badly you wanted to go out on the boat or drive the golf cart down to the local ice cream shop, not listening to a single word the trio would say to you. Once you made the decision to move in with the two youngest brothers, you figured you should probably put a little more effort into the whole hockey fan experience, considering you would likely be attending games on a regular basis.

“Well, we’ve been preparing for the Rags, so that old man in the bakery can rest easy knowing we’re working our asses off, which our heads aren’t in, by the way,” Jack speaks, correcting the stranger’s statement.

“Yeah, we’re doing really well, actually. We keep splitting the team up and forcing one half to mimic the Rangers and some of their techniques, so we’re actually getting really good at stopping them from getting the puck into our zone. Plus, our goalies are putting out some insane stops during practice, so I really think we’ve got this in the bag,” Luke adds, excited to showcase their hard work.

You’ve noticed that practices must have been hard for the boys this week. A lot of naps and ibuprofen consumed. You haven’t really seen much of them, if you’re being honest. They’re usually gone by the time you wake up in the mornings and so tired by the time they come home that they go straight to the couch or their bedrooms and fall asleep. By the time they wake up from their naps you’re usually already cooking dinner, at least getting to chat a bit while you cook. After finishing dinner they’re back to the couch, watching game film or heading back to the arena for various events and strategy meetings. They go to bed fairly early, considering all of their early morning starts, so evenings are usually spent in your room by yourself watching tv or catching up with your friends back home. You suppose you should get used to spending time by yourself, though, knowing you’ll be here by yourself more often than not during the season.

They had a game in Boston a few days prior, leaving you with your apartment to yourself for the first time in the two weeks you’ve lived with them. They were only gone for one night, but it was definitely lonely. You really haven’t been here long enough to have an abundance of people to call up anytime Jack and Luke were unavailable, so you had passed the time by exploring the area around your apartment complex a little, finding the perfect park to go sit at to soak up some much-needed sunshine. You couldn’t hide your excitement when the two brothers returned home the next evening, though. You got up from the couch and ran over to the door, ready to greet them and ask them all about the game (you had watched it on tv, but you really just wanted to talk to someone after a full day with no one’s company but your own), but you were greeted with tired eyes and frowns, despite their win the previous night. You simply gave each of them a hug and then sent them off to bed, knowing once they got some sleep they would be up for conversation.

This is why, right now, even though you have zero knowledge of what preparing for a rival hockey game consists of, you’re taking in every word the two have to offer about the subject. You’re just happy to have a few uninterrupted minutes to sit and talk with them.

“Good! That’s great! Really…good,” you say, giving a thumbs up and awkward smile after failing to come up with a better response to Luke’s statements.

Luke just laughs, appreciating your attempts at interest in their jobs.

“You’re coming to the game, right? We put back a ticket for you, but if you can’t make it that’s okay, too. Got you a pretty sick seat, though. Glass seat, right beside the net,” Jack reveals, raising his eyebrows a bit, as if trying to convince you.

“Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you exclaim, a little offended at the mere thought you’d skip out on such a big game for them.

“You won’t be disappointed, I swear. We’re gonna kick some major Rags ass,” Luke adds, excitement showing at the idea of you being in the crowd.

“The real question here shouldn’t be if I’m coming to the game or not. It’s whose jersey am I going to wear?” you throw out, poking fun at the two.

“Pshh, c’mon that one’s a no brainer. You’ll obviously wear mine, I’m your favorite,” Jack waves off your words, fully confident that you’ll agree with him.

“I don’t know, Rowdy. I feel like plenty of people will have 86 jerseys on. It is Moose’s rookie season, maybe I should wear his so he feels included.”

“Yeah, dickhead. You have a whole arena full of people wearing your number, she should wear mine. We all know it’s the better number anyways,” Luke retorts.

Jack rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to fire back an insult at Luke, but he’s cut off by a knock at the door. You look over at the two boys to see if they know who might be at the door, but both of their faces mirror your confused look. So much for your uninterrupted time with them.

“Did you guys invite someone over? Or should I be worried that there’s a murderer standing on the other side of our door right now,” you ask.

“Well first of all I don’t think a murderer would knock on the door. They would probably pick the lock or something. Isn’t the whole point of murdering someone to do it when they don’t see it coming?” Jack responds, standing up. “Second of all, it’s probably just Nico. I had mentioned watching game film together at practice earlier and he told me he’d see how he was feeling later. Kinda forgot about it, if I’m being honest, but this is around the time he wakes up from his post-practice nap.”

You sit up a little straighter when Jack mentions his teammate and captain. You hadn’t seen him since your first night in town about two weeks ago. You’d caught little bits of information about him in passing from both Jack and Luke, but tried to keep your questions about him to a minimum. The two of you were still practically strangers, not having had any reason to communicate after that night. You assume he’s been as busy as Jack and Luke, coming and going far more than you. Still, you’re surprised you haven’t even run into him once. You figure his captain duties keep him far busier than even Luke and Jack.

You hear the front door open and then two sets of voices making their way down the short hallway. You look over to see Nico in a hoodie and sweats, a hat hiding his long hair. You think back to that night at the bar when his hair was uncovered and he was having to push it out of his eyes for most of the night, wishing you could catch a glimpse of the brown locks right now. The two were continuing their short conversation from the door, so Nico had yet to acknowledge you or Luke yet. You look away, starting to pick at a loose thread on your socks, knowing you needed to avert your eyes before you were caught staring.

Unknown to you, Luke had already noticed your stare, observing how fixated you were on his captain. You look over to find Luke staring at you, an undecipherable expression on his face. You give him a puzzled look, as if to say ‘what?’ and he responds by simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Oh, hey you two. How’s it going?” Nico’s voice pulls you from your silent conversation with Luke, noticing Jack was no longer next to him.

“Hey, man. How was your nap? Your shoulder okay?” Luke asks him, adjusting his body slightly on the couch to make room for Nico to sit down.

You turn your head to look at Nico once again, a small hint of worry surfacing. He doesn’t look injured? His arm isn’t in a sling or anything, and he’s not holding it in pain. You watch as he sits down to see if even the smallest wince makes its way across his face as his back comes to rest against the plush cushions. If he’s in any sort of pain, he’s not letting it show in his actions.

“Yeah, perfectly fine. Don’t give yourself that much credit, kid. You don’t hit nearly as hard as you think you do,” Nico chuckles, taking his hand and tapping Luke on the knee a few times.

“Trying to hurt your captain before a huge game, Luke?” you speak for the first time since Nico entered the apartment. “Maybe I should wear Jack’s jersey on Saturday.”

“I knew it! See, my jersey is clearly the better choice, Moose. Sucks to suck, huh?” Jack interjects with a grin, walking from the direction of the kitchen, glass of water in hand.

“Now c’mon, Y/N, that isn’t even fair. It was an accident!” Luke cries out. “We were running drills and I was trying to stop, but I misjudged and ran into Nico. He didn’t even hit the glass that hard, you heard him!”he argues, looking between you and his brother.

“All I’m saying is, it won’t look good if the rookie is the reason the captain can’t play against public enemy number one. Then you’ll become public enemy number one, and I can’t be caught at a game wearing the new public enemy’s jersey. I’m already a newcomer, I can’t tarnish my reputation this early,” you hold your hands up in defense.

“What have I just walked into?” Nico asks, eyes darting between the three of you.

“Well, right before you walked in, we were talking about which jersey Y/N was going to wear to the game on Saturday. I told her the obvious choice was mine, but she decided to spew some bullshit about there being too many 86 jerseys already, so she should wear Luke’s since he’s new and needs to feel included,” Jack uses finger quotes around the last part of his sentence.

“Well, she has a point.”

“See! Even Cap thinks so! That’s it, you’re wearing my jersey, Y/N. Cap’s word is final,” Luke leans back, taking in his assumed victory.

Your mind wanders back to Nico’s words he spoke to you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, wondering if Luke’s statement includes those words, too.

“Maybe I should be fair and not wear either jersey. Just go down the roster and pick a random name and then buy it,” you joke, watching the brothers widen their eyes like you just told them you ran over their childhood pet.

“That’s…not even funny. How dare you even joke about something so important,” Jack stares at you, seriousness painted on his features.

“C’mon, Y/N, that’s just…that’s just cruel,” Luke emphasizes the last word dramatically.

“I think you should do it. In fact, I have a spare jersey I think you can wear,” Nico adds, looking at you with mischievous eyes.

“Oh, well that actually sounds lovely, Nico, thank you! What better way to show my support at my first Devils game than sporting the captain’s jersey?”

Jack and Luke both turn their heads to glare at their captain sitting between them. If looks could kill, the poor Swiss man would be six feet under right now. The Hughes brothers don’t play around when it comes to their jerseys. You remember when you had gone to one of Luke’s games while he was playing for Michigan, wanting to buy a Michigan jersey in support, but the gift shop had run out of Luke’s number once he announced his contract with the Devils. You knew you could have simply asked him for a jersey, knowing he had several lying around his dorm room, but the trip was supposed to be a surprise.

You were forced to buy a random jersey with some lesser known last name on it, because you still wanted to show up in Michigan attire. You don’t even remember whose name and number it was, but you remember the look on Luke’s face when he saw you during warm ups, going from pure joy to disgust in seconds. He skated off, going to the locker room briefly before returning with a yellow Jersey that he then threw over the glass to your seat, motioning for you to put it on. You just laughed and did as you were told. You’ve had similar arguments with both Jack and Quinn over threatening to wear a teammates jersey over the years, but you just like to poke fun at how protective the three are over you. Jack explained to you that they want you to wear their jersey’s because it shows their teammates that you’re to be left alone, knowing the reputations of their fellow players.

“Cap, please don’t make me kick you out of this apartment right now,” Jack looks at Nico with complete seriousness.

“Maybe I need to work on my body checks in practice tomorrow, Cap,” Luke tries to threaten.

Nico simply laughs, shaking his head at the sudden unity between the two bickering brothers.

“Alright, chill out you two, all jokes. Unless…” You trail off, standing up.

“No, no unless. You’re wearing one of our jerseys, preferably mine. Hey! Where are you going, this is serious!” Jack yells after you as you walk towards the kitchen.

“Unless you want to starve tonight, someone has to start making dinner. Plus, I have some jersey shopping to do,” you say, hearing Nico’s laughter ringing out once more as you enter the kitchen.

———————————————————————————

“Hey, Nico! Are you staying for dinner? I need to know how much pasta to make!” you shout from your spot by the stove, having just sat down a large pot of water on the hot eye.

You walk over to the cabinet to grab the box of pasta and a couple jars of sauce, waiting for an answer from the living room. You decided to go with just simple spaghetti and salad tonight, not really in the mood for having to prep a ton of food and spend an hour and a half cooking. Jack will probably complain about the amount of carbs he’s consuming, but he’ll get over it. As if he doesn’t burn enough calories from practice and his personal workouts he does on a daily basis. Luke will just be happy to have something that isn’t chicken, seeing as that’s all you made for the first few days of your new living arrangement, trying to stick to the meal plan Jack had the nutritionist send you.

After the third night of some form of chicken and vegetables, Luke was quick to inform you that no one on the team follows the meal plan so strictly. You also learned that Jack is going through some phase of eating nothing but chicken or steak and brown rice, Luke revealing that’s what the two mostly lived on during the weeks leading up to your move. You had told Luke he should learn to cook for himself, and then he wouldn’t be forced to eat what Jack or you decide to make if he doesn’t like it, but he had rolled his eyes and told you “this was the agreement, right? We won’t let you pay rent, so you told us you would contribute by cooking. So really, I’m just helping you fulfill your roommate duties.”

You still don’t have an answer from the three in the living room. You figure they’re too busy with game film to hear you, so you decide to just make enough for Nico, too. You can always pack up the leftovers and have them for lunch the next few days if needed. You dump what you think to be the proper amount of pasta for four people into the pot once it reaches a boil, then work on pouring the sauce into a pan to let it heat up. You cheated on the salad, too, deciding to just buy two bags of salad mix, dumping the bag into a large bowl and adding the small packets of toppings. You’ve just dumped the now done pasta into the colander in the sink, turning to put the pot back onto the stove to cool off a bit when a voice causes you to nearly drop the hot pot in your hands.

“It smells delicious in here,” Nico announces his presence, walking through the doorway towards the fridge.

You settle yourself before setting the pot down safely on the stovetop before speaking. “You know, I really need to get on ordering those squeaky shoes if I want to avoid a heart attack by 25.”

Turning your body, you see Nico hunched over looking in the fridge, arm reaching towards a water bottle before raising up, flashing you a smile.

“Nah, even if you buy them I wouldn’t wear them. This is like, our thing now. Me sneaking up on you, you getting mad, me getting a good laugh out of it,” he stands back at his full height now.

“How comforting that you find enjoyment out of my jumpiness. Such an admirable trait to have,” you grumble, taking the pasta from the sink and transfer it into the pan filled with sauce. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, seeing as it looks like I made enough to feed the entire team, but I think I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself. See how funny that is.”

This earns another laugh, Nico moving to lean against the counter opposite of you, watching you try to combine the sauce and the pasta without making a giant mess.

“Why don’t you just put it back in the pot you cooked the pasta in. You’ll be able to mix it easier.”

“Because apparently that would have been too easy,” you step back and huff, wondering why you didn’t think of that before you created an overflowing mess of sauce and noodles.

Nico makes his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to move you out of the way. He picks up the pan and dumps the contents into the pot sitting next to it, not spilling a single drop.

“There, now you can mix it easier and it won’t spill out over the sides and cause an even bigger mess,” he states, placing the dirty pan in the sink behind you.

“Okay, captain chef, next time you’re cooking dinner, since you clearly have more kitchen skills than me,” you tell him, making your way across the kitchen to collect plates to sit on the table.

Nico just chuckles as he watches you grab the plates, sitting one in front of each chair around the small dining table that sits in the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here, please tell me its almost done,” Jack enters the kitchen, Luke trailing behind him.

“It is, just finished actually,” you look up, Nico carrying the pot of steaming pasta from the stove to the table, careful not to drop it.

“Rowdy, grab the salad over there by the sink for me while I grab some forks for everyone,” you move towards the silverware drawer, walking around the Swiss man in your kitchen, having to turn your body slightly as he steps back from the table.

“Well, I better get going, my leftovers aren’t going to heat themselves up,” Nico announces, starting to make his way out of the kitchen.

“Cap, are you crazy? Do you not see how much food Bouy made?” Jack places the bowl of salad next to the pot of pasta, taking his seat at the table.

“Jack, I’m being so serious right now, if you keep using that stupid nickname for me I will sneak laxatives into your protein shakes.” You take the seat across from Jack, Luke falling into the seat to your left.

“Well, as long as it’s okay with Bouy, I’d love to stay.” Nico walks back over to the table, taking the seat next to Jack, smirking while avoiding eye contact with you.

“I know where you live, so the threat extends to you too, Cap” you glare at Nico.

The rest of the meal is mostly filled with talk between the three hockey players, you chiming in here and there, until Jack shifts the topic of conversation to you.

“So, what’s the update with your new job? You have everything lined up and ready to go?”

“Yeah, talked to them earlier today, actually. They said they’d have my office ready in about a week, so I should be starting not long after that.” You shrug, not wanting to bore them with the details of the corporate scene in New Jersey.

“Where are you going to be working?” Nico asks, genuine interest present in his tone, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“I got offered a position with a small publishing company not too far from here, actually. Mostly independent, up and coming authors, but still exciting,” you reveal, perking up a bit at the opportunity to talk about your passion.

“Was super worried I wasn’t going to be able to use my degree after college, seeing as the market for English lit degrees isn’t too wide unless you want to teach. At least, that’s how it is back home. After I graduated and Jack offered the spare room here, I applied to a few positions here in Jersey and a few in New York, willing to make the commute if needed. Only heard back from one place, though. And it just so happened to be a thirty-minute drive from here, so I accepted and started packing,” you explained.

“It was meant to be. The gang back together once again,” Jack beams.

“Well, the gang minus Quinn. The fucker just had to end up in Vancouver of all places,” Luke grumbles, still upset the oldest Hughes is so far away.

“Lucky for us I can work remotely if I ever need or want to, so this summer at the lake we can all be together again,” you try to cheer Luke up, knowing how much he wishes the three brothers could have played on the same team while making their dreams come true.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack celebrates. “This is going to be the best summer at the lake house yet. We’re all grown, most of us legal drinking age, but don’t worry, we won’t tell if you won’t, Lukey,” Jack winks over at Luke, knowing the underage drinking rule has never really applied in the sacred space of the lake houses, “and we’ll all finally be there together again after, what, like 6 years?”

“It’s been awhile, at least that long,” you try to think back to the last time everyone was there together.

It was the summer before Quinn got drafted. Quinn had signed to play hockey at Michigan a few months before everyone was set to arrive at the summer oasis. You remember being so proud of him. You couldn’t wait to finally see him and congratulate him in person, knowing how hard he had worked for it. You figured things would stay the same for a few more years, expecting him to come home every summer for the next four years before moving on to the NHL. You had no clue that he would be drafted only a summer later and that it would be the beginning of the end for the summers of fun at the lake house.

“Nico, you should come up this summer! It’s always such a good time!” Jack pulls you from your reminiscing.

“I mean, maybe. I’ve been talking to my parents about flying home during the off season this year, since I didn’t make it over there last year. But I could probably come for a few days, at least,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You try to picture Nico at the lake house, hat covering his hair, swim trunks and a t-shirt covering his body. You picture him lounging on the boat in the sun while Jack takes everyone out for a midday ride, finding a secluded spot somewhere on the lake to stop and swim for a while. You picture him trying to wake surf, wondering if he’d be instantly good at it or if he would end up wiping out in the water. You picture him sitting around the fire at night, a light hoodie on to the mask the chill that never fails to make an appearance on Michigan summer nights, the glow from the fire illuminating his face just enough for you to admire him. You picture him with a slight sunburn on his nose, tan skin glowing from being in the sun so often.

You must have been lost in your thoughts for longer than you realized, because you came back to the conversation with several calls of your name from the seat next to you.

“Are you even listening to us anymore? Or do you really not want Cap coming to the lake house?” Luke looks over at you, slightly waving his hand in front of your face.

“What? No,” you say, looking around at the expectant faces surrounding you. “I mean, no I don’t care if he comes. It would be fun, yeah. If he can make it, of course. You heard him, I’m sure he’s excited to see his family.”

“I’m sure I can work something out. Have the best of both worlds. These two have talked about the infamous lake house so much I’m curious to see if it really lives up to all the hype,” Nico leans back, nodding his head towards both Jack and Luke.

“Then its settled! Cap is coming to Michigan this summer!” Jack cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration.

You laugh in response to Jack’s excitement, noticing that everyone seems to be done eating, plates clean and glasses empty. You stand up and start to take some of the dishes to the sink, setting them in there before walking back over to the table.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, I think now would be the best time to tell you that you and Luke have dish duty tonight.” You clear the last of the dishes off the table.

You watch Jack’s face fall, while Luke’s does a sharp turn in your direction. You turn your back to them to walk back over to the counter, opening the cabinet below you to find Tupperware to store the leftovers in.

“On that note, I better get going. Have some laundry I need to get done before practice in the morning,” Nico stands, bringing over a few stray pieces of silverware you seemed to have missed.

“Oh, no you don’t, Cap. You heard her, she cooked, we clean,” Jack turns to look at his captain as he makes his way to the sink.

“No, I said you and Luke have dish duty tonight. Nico’s name was never mentioned. Guests don’t do the dishes, Jack. I know Ellen raised you better than that.”

“Nico is hardly a guest. He’s over here all the time!” Luke chimes in, opening one of the drawers by the sink, grabbing a towel to dry dishes with.

“He doesn’t pay any rent for the apartment, therefore he’s a guest. Just accept your fate, you two. You’ll survive, I promise.” You hand the pot you just emptied to Jack, taking the food in your hands to the fridge a few steps away.

“You don’t pay any rent, and you’re not a guest,” Jack mumbles, hands covered in soapy suds.

“Exactly! That means I don’t do the dishes, either. I knew you’d catch on eventually! And they say you’re just a pretty face,” you shut the fridge door, looking over at Jack with an amused grin.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jack whines.

“C’mon, man, you walked right into that one,” Nico adds, laughing at his teammate.

Jack glares at the taller man. “I thought you said you were leaving, that you had laundry to do or some shit.”

“I am, I am,” Nico throws his hands up in defense.

“I’ll walk you out, Nico. Leave the children to pout while doing their chores,” you jest, walking toward the kitchen’s exit.

“Thanks for dinner, Y/N. Ten times better than whatever I would’ve found in my fridge,” Nico says as you pass through the living room.

“Anytime, Cap,” you use his title, blaming Jack and Luke for the new habit. “After all, I owed you for rescuing me from sleeping in the hallway.”

This earns another one of those laughs you love to hear fall from his mouth, smiling to yourself as he follows you down the small hallway towards the front door.

“I feel like you definitely had to put in more effort on your end of that deal,” he steps through the door you’re holding open.

“I’ll just wait until you owe me a favor, then I’ll make sure to cash in some extravagant request,” you joke, leaning against the door as he stands in the hallway.

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”

Nico takes his apartment key from his pocket and unlocks his door, opening it and stepping inside, turning around to face you once again, his stance mirroring your own in his own doorway.

“So, I’ll see you at the game on Saturday, then?” He stalls a goodbye.

“Yep, I’ll be there. Still deciding which brother I’m going to piss off,” you reference the earlier argument over whose jersey you’ll wear.

“Oh, that reminds me-“ Nico says before propping his door open, leaving you alone in your doorway, confused as to where he could’ve gone.

After about a minute of you standing there, wondering if he was going to come back, he returns, holding a red jersey in his hand.

“Here, figured there’s no sense in you going out and buying one if you really wanted to mess with their heads.”

He hands you the jersey, stepping back into his doorway. You unfold the jersey and notice the big black C on the upper left corner of the jersey. It was a solid red jersey, the team’s symbol in the middle, two black stripes on the forearms of each sleeve, more black accents on the shoulders of the jersey. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“I- I can’t take one of your jerseys, Nico. What if I mess it up, or spill something on it? I’ll just wear one of the ones I have. This looks too nice to risk it,” you attempt to hand the jersey back across the hallway.

“No, I insist. I think it’ll be fun to mess around with them a little. Especially Jack, since he seemed so convinced you were going to wear his. They’ll never even see it coming,” Nico refuses.

You run the idea through your head for a second, thinking about how it would be a funny little dig at the boys. You also think about the implications of wearing a jersey that doesn’t belong to one of Hughes brothers. It’s harmless, though, right? Nico said it was just a fun way to get under their skin. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Y/N’ you think to yourself, trying to kick your habit of creative narratives in your head.

“Okay, but if I end up getting kicked out of my apartment I’m knocking on your door to sleep on your couch,” you finally agree.

“My door’s always open for you.”

You look back down to the jersey in your hands to hide the blush that appears on your face at his words. You know you’ve only known him for a short period of time, tonight being the first real chunk of time you’ve spent in his presence, but Nico is making it really hard for you to keep your feelings for him casual. You’ve always had a habit of getting a case of the heart eyes fast, but you’re trying to be normal, for once.

He’s likely just being his normal, personable self and you’re letting every smile and joke go to your head, placing more meaning on them than is warranted. There’s just something about him, though. He’s extremely attractive, for one. But it’s more than that. From all that you’ve learned about him through Jack and Luke, and the easy conversation that has flowed between the two of you from the moment you first spoke to him in the hallway, you can’t lie to yourself and say you’re not drawn to the Swiss captain.

Your mind circles back to the idea of wearing his jersey this weekend and what Jack and Luke will think. What if you seriously hurt their feelings? What if it affects how they play because they’re mad at you? What if they ignore you the whole game? You know the two brothers love you, but you also know how petty they can both be when mad.

“Stop overthinking it. I can see you getting lost up in that head of yours. It’s a harmless joke. They’re not going to freak out on the ice or anything. And if they do, I’m in more danger than you are,” Nico reassures you, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You better at least score a goal if I’m risking being homeless for you,” you tell him, looking back up at his face.

“How about I do you one better. If you promise to wear my jersey, I’ll score a hatty for your first ever New Jersey Devils hockey experience,” Nico offers, his eyes flashing with something you assume is delight at a challenge.

“Well then you better work on your slapshot tomorrow morning, Captain. I’ll be holding you to that Saturday night,” you take the bait, knowing how difficult a hat trick is to pull off.

“No need, I know I’ll have the right motivation night of to get it done,” he winks at you, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. “And if I don’t, consider it your IOU for that extravagant request you might need one day,” He responds, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, the nonchalance of his body language making you hope for his failure, just so you can think of some ridiculous task for him to perform.

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll get right to brainstorming,” you respond, trying to prevent your thoughts from spiraling yet again.

Nico lets out a small laugh, standing up straight and placing his hand on the handle of his door. “Think hard. Let me know what you come up with. Have a good night, Bouy, see you Saturday.” He shuts the door before you can berate him for using the nickname you hate.

You walk back into your apartment, door shutting behind you, going straight to your room to hide the jersey before either of the boys see it. You think back on the entire interaction, a smile on your face at the possibility of being able to have Nico do anything you ask him. As you’re walking past the kitchen you hear Jack’s voice.

“Luke, am I stupid or did Y/N call me stupid earlier?” he recalls your earlier comment about him being ‘just a pretty face’.

“Think about how you worded the first part of your question and you’ll have your answer,” you hear Luke respond as you make it past the kitchen unnoticed, making you stifle a giggle so you won’t be discovered.

Oh how you loved being back with your boys.

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ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater · 4 months

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The Blessing to Your Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hey y’all I’m back again so soon with another fic, Sukuna’s lover reincarnation (whatever you call it) has me in a chokehold right now and I thought I’d share this with the world. Would like to warn you there is a lot of strange jumping around/pov changes which are indicated by the change in pronouns, I would mark each change but it would get a bit messy after a while so I hope it’s not too hard to follow! ^-^

Reader’s powers involve something I like to call ‘blessed energy’ which is the opposite to cursed energy and is mostly used for healing (reverse blessed energy is used to harm in the same way reverse CE is used to heal) and it’s something I created to use with my writings in the JJK universe. (sometimes I write it a little op because im a self-indulgent piece of shit so for most of what I post I’ll probably dial it back if I use it hehe) The reader has a similar situation to Maki/Mai (MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD) where one twin is restricted and the other has all the energy, and when the one with the energy dies the living twin gains all the power, so I hope that makes sense in context of the story

(PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND A REQUEST!!!! I'M ALWAYS IN NEED OF NEW PROMPTS AND CHARACTERS TO GO WITH THEM ❤)(I have a post which outlines characters I mostly write for but I'm open to adding to that list!!)

Warnings: mild description of mutilation (sukuna’s transformation), main character death (not described), fluff

Word count: 2.4k

“Ryomen!” You laugh, trying to keep a few steps ahead of the young man who chases after you. Your legs tire easily, body frail and sick despite the immense power flowing through your veins. “I’m coming for you!” He growls playfully, “Better run!” He’s holding back from his top speed, this you know well, but you refuse to let that stop you from trying to keep up with his childish play. Still young, 16 and 17 with him being the older one, you insist that you would rather spend the rest of your life here with him than being shepherded around in the village like a priestess.

This is your only escape from the temple on the hill, only solitude, your time with Ryomen Sukuna is precious and you treat it as such, thinking only of him and his rare smiles. You refuse to let the village’s words taint your view of him, as powerful as he is with his cursed energy there is good in him and you seek to nurture it, for both simple selfish gain and so he doesn’t turn on everyone like they did him. You reach the treeline and race out into the meadow, the grass tall and soft around your waist having stripped down from your daily ceremonial robes into just modest loose undergarments.

He does eventually catch up near the middle of the meadow, springing out of the grass and tackling you to the ground, making sure to roll so you land on top of him and he takes the full force of the fall. The last time you returned to the village after a long day of simple play with bruises and scrapes you weren’t allowed to leave the village for a few weeks.

He’s grown quite a lot larger than you during his time in exile, to be expected when you have to fend for yourself against wild animals and build your own shelter, “You’re getting stronger every day,” You smile, pushing yourself off him and laying in the grass, staring up at the beautiful pink of the sunset. “Well I have to, to be able protect you, I’m not the only thing out there you know,” He says, his tone almost too blasé for what he’s implying. You tilt your head and trace the lines of his tattoos with your eyes, “I know you’re not, but you’re not a thing to me Ryomen,” You murmur, “Please, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, you’ve always been human to me,”

He meets your gaze, his eyes used to be brown, but the red no longer worries you like it used to, “One day I’ll get you out of that village,” He says softly, his words for your ears and the rustling grass only, “I will take you far away from here and we can live somewhere untouched by the rest of the world,” You sit up, looking down at him as you hug your knees to your chest, “I’d like that,” You say, smiling, “Just the two of us,” Nothing could touch you while you were together, the world stood still for you, not even the scathing remarks you sometimes got from the other young girls of the village could hurt you.

The world is volatile, things can change so quickly. Curses are still so new to the world of humans, sorcerers that act as protectors are only just starting to appear among humans and spread themselves between villages when the day finally comes. The wave of hatred and anguish that came with the curses suffocated everything in its path. You were outside the village when it happened, returning from a visit with Sukuna, and you returned to find nothing but death and destruction. More than half of the village had been killed with no discrimination towards age or gender, and it only soothed you a little to see your old family home empty when you wrenched the door open. No blood nor bodies of any kind. Your parents and sister had made it out alive, but the temple atop the hill that you resided in was completely engulfed.

You weren’t naïve, you did not attempt to return to the temple, but they came for you all the same because your energy was like a beacon for them, and they were programmed to destroy. Running with Ryomen had improved your strength over the time you spent together, you supposed that was one of the ways he took care of you in his silent brooding way, but it wasn’t enough to get you all the way to him. He must have sensed your fear as you grew nearer, your breaths shallow and your chest tight, his eyes are the last thing you remember seeing before your soul was harshly liberated from your flesh.

The smell of blood permeated through layers of warmth that held you in suspension beyond life, but you felt yourself being dragged back to the ground, standing over your own body as you watch the only person outside of your immediate family who ever truly cared for you cry. You had never seen him cry before, it was cathartic to know even he still felt human somewhere inside while holding your weak broken body to his bare tattooed chest.

You felt his cursed energy filling the air like smoke, almost able to see it in the purgatory state you’re trapped in, his body shaking and his muscles twitching. It was like watching someone turn themselves inside out when it finally happened, his body began changing before your eyes, an extra pair of arms sprout from the top of his ribcage just under the normal ones. His face contorts with an agonized cry and one half becomes unrecognisable, the flesh pink and hardened into some sort of twisted mask, and to finish the monstrous transformation a second pair of eyes open under his regular ones.

Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he cradles you, you hear him make one last promise, one that locks around what remains of your essence like chains and puts you into a deep sleep. “I will burn this world for taking you from me, I will become the King of Curses, and when you are reborn I shall make you remember, make you my Queen, I will bind myself to you to protect you,” It’s the final part that reassures you he isn’t losing himself as the darkness consumes you, “When I find you, the world will be right once again,”

Now it had been over a thousand years since the light in Sukuna’s life had gone out, reducing him to a killing machine that punished the world for snuffing it out, and he had returned once more in the body of a naive 15 year old boy with pink hair. Having been preserved as twenty separate cursed objects since his untimely death he was eager to resume his self-assigned purge, but the boy had more control over his body than Sukuna could break through, leaving him trapped within his innate domain watching through Yuji Itadori’s eyes like they’re windows.

“I had to do it at least once,” He grumbles to himself as the boy sits up, stark naked, on the morgue table, surprising the three sorcerers in the room with the formerly dead boy. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuji, come,” Gojo instructs as the boy slips on some clothes handed to him. “Another sorcerer?” He asks. “You’ll see when we get there,” The taller man beckons him and they make their way to a house on the furthest outskirts of the Jujutsu high campus, small in size and surrounded by forest on all sides except for the path leading up to the entrance.

A fire burns in the chimney and the house is warm when the pair steps inside, “L/n!” Gojo calls out. Sukuna’s attention is elsewhere as around the corner down the hall out walks a pure angel, her energy blinding and her form strong. “Gojo!” She smiles, “Who’s this?” “This is Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel,” She bows politely, “Welcome to my home,” She looks back up into Yuji’s eyes as he smiles, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Enchain!” Sukuna shouts, and suddenly he’s thrown violently to the forefront of Yuji’s mind. His trump card, wasted. He hadn’t considered the potential consequences, it had been instinctual and foolish of him. The girl didn’t know who he was, but he wanted to speak to her all the same. He would make her know. He cannot stumble, he cannot falter, not when she’s right there and all he has to do is show her, “Y/n,” He murmurs. “That’s not Yuji,” She frowns, her voice soft, “That’s-” Before the two can react Sukuna is on his knees before her, holding her hands in his and hiding against her soft clothing. “I’ve…” Gojo trails off, “I’ve never seen that before,” The girl doesn’t let him go, and he feels her power reach into him, feeling around in the darkest parts of his soul, “My Queen,” He mutters, feeling the metaphysical chains around his heart tighten, “Please, remember,”

A fast surge of energy from Gojo causes the man on his knees before you to react just as quickly, pulling you tighter against him and then seemingly teleporting out the open door into the clearing, “It’s rude to attack ROYALTY!” He roars as Gojo steps out the door after the pair of you. Sukuna has planted himself firmly between the two of you, “You sorcerers never learn manners!” Something happens when your skin next touches his, his hand shooting out to catch you by your wrist as you fail to keep your balance.

A flood of memories that don’t belong to you, in fact, ones that belong to him. You see yourself, weak and frail but smiling widely, Sukuna as he is in front of you now not as he is described in sorcerer texts. A regular human man with an abnormal amount of tattoos, fiercely protective and full of love for the only person who still sees him as human. You vaguely feel yourself fall to your knees as everything from the day he was exiled to the day you died returned to your mind. You knew that despite the life you had lived for twenty years, you were in fact over a thousand years old.

This wasn’t your life, this wasn’t your body, it was hers, but you are her. You can feel the chains, too, the ones he put there the day you died to ensure that you would return. “The world took her from me, and the world paid the price, now BACK OFF!” His words shake you out of your visions, his hand still clutching your wrist as your head hangs weakly.

“Come now, Sukuna, taking hostages isn’t your style, you know that,” Gojo bargains, “Let her go, and we can fight like men,” You shake your head, “No,” You murmur, “No, Gojo,” You finally look up into his eyes, slightly uncovered as he prepares to fight, “He’s right, I know who I am, I know where my clan comes from,” He doesn’t make a move towards you and you take the opportunity to speak again, “My mother was blessed, her child would calm the beast, but she had two and one was weak in body strong in energy, the other was lacking in energy but strong of body,” Your sister had been the one the clan records mentioned, nobody remembered the girl who died alone in Ryomen Sukuna’s arms.

“I am the Queen to Ryomen Sukuna’s King,” You breathe, feeling his grip on your wrist go lax. His energy dies away and he falls to his hands and knees, but the tattoos are gone. “Yuji!” Gojo’s shoulders finally relax and he recovers his eyes, “What happened? How did he get through?” “Don’t ignore me, Satoru,” You state firmly, “Sukuna will not be a threat while I am alive,” “Can you guarantee that?” He’s always been intimidating, but this man was a part of your training as a sorcerer, and he can be rational when he wants to be.

“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m going to go back on a binding vow,” Sukuna spits from Yuji’s cheek, the boy not even having a chance to get a word in, “She is the only thing in this forsaken world I care about and you’re not about to take that away from me just so you can pretend like you’re the saviour of humanity,” You don’t remember ever being as harsh as Sukuna is right now, but his rage fills you with confidence and admiration, “I can guarantee humans will not fall as long as I am alive, his vow makes sure of it, though I’m sure he would not need it either way,”

The secondary eye on Yuji’s cheek closest to you locks its gaze onto you, “Ever so cunning, I wish I’d had the chance to nurture your hatred towards the village, maybe you’d be more open to killing,” He sounds almost wistful, “But alas, I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter how idiotic I think you sorcerers are,” You finally move to stand back on your feet, helping Yuji up with a tentative smile, “It’s nice to meet you Itadori,” You murmur, “I’m sorry you have to listen to that punk, you come to me if he gives you trouble alright?” The boy nods, his previously cheery demeanour replaced with something mellower and he seems deep in thought as he looks into your eyes.

“He really loves you,” He murmurs in disbelief, “I didn’t… I didn’t think he was truly capable of love, after what he did to me,” You shrug, “It’ll make sense one day, but I’ll let him be the one who opens up, it’s not my place to air out thousand year old dirty laundry with people who are long dead anyway,” Your words hang in the air as Gojo finally sighs. The discussion and conclusion are finalised when he leaves, Yuji will live with you and you will suppress Sukuna’s energy. You will keep the world safe by preserving your life, lest another binding vow come down upon your departing soul and the King of curses be forced to unleash his merciless fury once more.

Sukuna is a little shit and out of character because it’s my fic and I get to write the male love interest however I want (I tried besties :( I don’t like mean Sukuna but I do love “I hate everyone but you” so that’s what you get) also I wrote this instead of sleeping at 2am, the brainrot is real and this will probably end up being a series because I can’t control myself

Part 2 here!

Post dividers from @cafekitsune

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #ryomen sukuna #yuji itadori #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk sukuna #heian era #jjk x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months

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Chapter 6 - Ok It’s Happening! Everyone Stay Calm!

This chapter is going to span Tuesday night into Wednesday night. Nothing really happens in between the initial post and family dinner, so I tried to add some things to fluff it up. You finally get to read a bit of reader-lore. The next chapter, “Family Dinner,” will be posted Wednesday night. Enjoy and don’t forget to comment to be added to the tag list :D

Arthur had to leave early Monday morning. You were sad, but were thankful that he was able to come spend a few nights with you. You almost forgot why you were in London in the first place.

Oh yeah, to become one of the best freaking F1 drivers there ever were. You could see the TikTok edits now. You hoped there would be at least one with an Olivia Rodrigo song in the background. Or maybe Taylor Swift? The possibilities were endless.

You were able to drive the car a few more times in the span of Monday and today. You really felt like you were becoming more familiar with it. One of the last times, they put you into the RB-19, just to get a feel for it for Vegas.

Speaking of Vegas, something popped up on your Instagram that you just had to share with Vito.

“Hey Vito, can you find me someone to marry while I’m in Vegas?” you nonchalantly asked while the two of you were having breakfast. He nearly spit out his orange juice.

“Excuse me?” he responded while wiping his mouth with the nice cloth napkin. The brunch place was very high end. You ended up getting pancakes though, while Vito got something you didn’t even want to try to pronounce.

“Well, there’s this Formula 1 wedding chapel, and I thought, how cool would it be to get married there while it’s up? So, I thought I’d ask to see if you could find me someone.”

Vito took a deep breath before massaging his brow. He was “this close” to quitting. But he would never do that to you. Instead, he said, “Kid. You cannot get married in Vegas.”

He thought you would have put up more of a fight, but you just shrugged and stuffed your mouth full of another bite of pancake. He shook his head as he tried to take another sip of his drink. The breakfast went well after that. You didn’t try to bring it up, but somehow, you would find your way to this chapel. Even if you weren’t going to get married.

As the two of you walked out of the building, you angled your body to Vito. “So, what do I have to do?”

He looked at his phone, “So you have to approve your helmet. And then we have to take some pictures for your post tonight. Tomorrow we have a flight to catch that will take us to Vegas. After, you will get settled at the hotel and then eat dinner with the team.”

“Geez, that seems like a lot doesn’t it?” You opened the driver door to your vehicle. Vito had said that it was your time to drive. You wanted to argue that every other waking moment was spent behind the wheel, but you knee that he wanted to be the passenger princess for once. He said that was not the case as he couldn��t handle you picking Country Girl by Luke Bryan one more time.

He said he even heard the song in his dreams.

You thought that was total madness. How could someone get tired of Luke Bryan. Maybe Daniel would listen to it with you at some point, if the two of you got close enough. Vito had walked around the car, got in, and started to buckle.

Using the button to start the car, the engine came to life. You carefully backed out of the parking space and pulled onto the road. Per the request of the Vito and Mitch, you were to return to RB to go over some last-minute paperwork and things of that nature.

Since the drive was so familiar by now, the time seemed to fly by even faster. You knew what you were doing. It was crazy to think that just last week, you were winning your F2 championship with no future plans. And now you were pulling up to headquarters like it was just another Tuesday.

Time was weird like that.

At the building, you almost cried when you saw your helmet. You wanted to make a joke, but decided against it. You could do that later over the radio in free practice one. It was everything that your little F1-loving heart ever wanted. The white and silver had a great contrast. But your favorite part was the glitter. You tried it on and had a couple of pictures taken. You let them know which ones were your favorites.

You later found yourself in a conference room going over last-minute legal things. Vito made sure that you knew what you were getting into with a multi-year contract and how much it would damage you if you were to break it. You were still 100 percent with it all. You also discussed what picture you wanted to use for their official statement. You picked one that had been taken after your first F2 win of the 2023 season. You sheepishly smiled when they pointed out the Mercedes logo, but you told them that it was there since you had won a sponsorship to help pay for everything. You had no loyalties to the other British team.

“All right, I think that wraps things up. Any questions, comments, or concerns?” one of the lawyers asked as he packed his things up.

With multiple shakings of heads, he bid farewell and left the room.

Now that it was just you, Mitch, and Vito, you spun your chair to face the two of them. You felt like a villain out of a movie as you put your hands together.

“Mitch, did you bring the special thing that I asked for?” you said in a darker tone, wanting to feel mysterious.

She rolled her eyes as she got up and walked to a clothing bag that was laying on the end of the table. She brought it back over and laid it over your lap.

You unzipped the bag and stared at the item. It was a vintage Red Bull bomber jacket. Just the sight wanted to make you cry.

You stood up and carefully put the jacket on. You turned towards Mitch and Vito.

“How do I look?” you asked. Now you were getting shy. You might be loud with people you were comfortable with, but you always put people’s opinion of you over anything else. They both had comforting smiles.

“I think you were born to wear that jacket kid,” Vito said, with almost tears in his eyes.

“Same here Y/n. You truly belong with us,” Mitch said as she gave you a hug. You let a few tears fall when doing so. It had been long since you really felt accepted somewhere.

With your parents, you constantly wanted their approval, but never got it. That drove you to be the best at everything. People always told you to quit in F4, but you slowly rose above them as you entered F3. There, people told you that you, a girl, did not belong in F3. You were only 15 at the time.

You proved them wrong as you became the first female to join the ranks of F2 two years later. You spent 3 years fighting for your hard earned right to be there. It got easier with the help of friends, but you always wanted more. One more chance to prove yourself. And you got that with the F1 seat.

“Could we take a few pictures for me to post later?” Mitch and Vito agreed. You three found a nice spot on a hidden balcony. It basically looked like you were on the sidewalk, but you wouldn’t take that risk. It was too close and you had people right where you wanted them.

You had grabbed an iconic can of Red Bull on your way out and cracked it open to pose with it. It took a good 30 minutes for you to get the pose correctly.

While going through those photos, you spoke up.

“Did you know that my first kart had the Red Bull logo on it. I loved that thing, even if I crashed it multiple times.” You chuckled at the memories.

“What goes around comes around,” Vito muttered as he went through the photos.

“Reminds me of that Taylor Swift sound on Tik Tok. It’s been a long time coming.”

Mitch gave a playful scoff, “You should use that as your caption.” You hadn’t thought of that! Mitch definitely thought that you wouldn’t, but the look on your face showed her that you really wanted to do it. She, once again, rolled her eyes at your antics. But, she herself was comforted by your easy-going personality. She had only known you for a couple of days, but you were becoming very dear to her.

You were becoming very dear to everyone. Every worker was amazed at your talent. A few even compared you to Sebastian Vettel and their very own champion Max Verstappen. But Mitch wouldn’t tell you that in fear of scaring you off. It was a big thing to be compared to the two legends, but you didn’t need that pressure on you. You already had been through so much. Vito had let Mitch know before of what has happened with past race strategists. She never wanted to be like what you’ve had to deal with.

You now were beginning to explain the entirety of why Taylor Swift was re-recording her albums in the first place. Your hands were pointing at invisible objects in the air while Vito just stood and listened. Mitch thought it would be hilarious to see you and Max discuss race tactics.

There was the Maxsplaining and the Leclerifying. Now you would be Y/n-strating (illustrating but with your name in front).

“And that is why we don’t like Scooter. We’re gonna come for his ankles before he can come for ours. Mother never told us to be nice to him,” you gestured as you finished your rant. Vito looked bored to death while Mitch was just smirking at the two of you. You wondered what she was thinking about.

Oh well. She could read your mind but you couldn’t read hers.

When it got dark, you and Vito headed back to hotel to pack before you were supposed to be at the hotel. Riggs, Lacy, Mitch, and other personnel would be flying out with you. There would be no commercial flight, instead there would be a private plane for everyone. You couldn’t wait, since this would be the first time to fly privately.

There was really nothing different to it until you actually got on the plane. Security was the same and the private lounge area wasn’t much different than the ones you had already been to. There were fewer seats on the plane, but everyone fit comfortable.

You were excited that you didn’t have to pay for WIFI on the plane to watch your TV shows. There were a couple of Brooklyn 99 episodes that you hadn’t seen yet. Once those were finished, you told yourself that you’d take a quick nap and wake up way before you landed.

That was a lie.

You practically slept the entire way there, and was only awoken by the plane landing. You were excited to be back in the states. You hadn’t been in years. Texas would always be your favorite state though, since you lived there for 5 years when you were in your teens. You had begged Arthur and Ollie to go with you once, but they declined and you ended up not going. You couldn’t wait to drive at COTA.

The nap really helped as you weren’t exhausted when you got to the hotel. Vito told you though that you had time to sleep before you needed to wake up the next morning. But the nerves were getting to you.

At 9 a.m. Red Bull would be posting the statement. Which reminded you to do the same. You inhaled sharply as you picked the pictures on your Instagram. You were able to find a picture of your old kart, and you definitely used Mitch’s suggestion for the caption. You tagged Red Bull before posting and turning off your phone. You could deal with everything tomorrow morning when you had gotten a good night’s sleep.

Well, that good night’s sleep was way too short for your liking. Your alarm sounded way too loud and interrupted the nice dream that you were having. It was something about marrying some dude at the F1 chapel. You just couldn’t get it out of your mind.

You took a shower to at least feel better. The staleness of the plane air clung to you throughout the night. Should you have showered after sending the world into a panic? Yes. But did you? No. Your phone might as well have combusted last night. Turning on the front screen, there were thousands upon thousands of notifications. You simply swiped left and deleted them all.

Opening your Instagram, it was worse. Your face was everywhere. Happily, enough, almost everything was a positive outlook. Only a few bad ones stood out, but you knew better than to look. While scrolling, you were interrupted by a face time request from Ollie. You quickly picked up and were met with the sight of his face. With jaw dropped, he just stared at you.

“Hello to you to?”

You pulled the phone away from your face as he started screeching. You just listened as he ranted for another 10 minutes before he went silent.

“You done?” you deadpanned.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Ok good.” You went on to tell him about everything that happened in the past week. He definitely whined when you told him that Arthur knew before he did. He demanded that you tell him next time. And you told him that you hoped that there wouldn’t be a next time. You were determined to stay with Red Bull for as long as possible.

After the phone call, you kind of just chilled around the room all day. Dinner wasn’t until later and you had time to get ready.

After watching episodes upon episodes, you saw that you needed to get ready. With your trusty playlist, cans of hair spray, your makeup, and your curling iron – you were ready for the battle that was looking perfect for dinner.

Each curl had to be calculated, each face product must be weighed to the exact suggested amount. Did you do either? No.

You just did it how you normally did, and somehow you got it done. You took a quick picture and posted it on your story. The dress you picked was black. A long slit showed just enough leg, while there was only one sleeve. You paired it with some gold heals. You only hoped it wasn’t too much, but you wanted to make a good impression. Vito had gotten the go ahead from Christian beforehand. The restaurant was supposed to be of the upmost hoity-toity-ness and you hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

With a knock on your door, you knew it was time to meet the family.

(Your story)

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #ollie bearman x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader

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ratsonastick · 3 months

Note

You definitely don’t have to do this if you don’t want too! Clarisse x reader where the reader has always been naturally quiet and doesn’t think their good enough for Clarisse cause their total opposites

OF COURSE!!! I am not sure if this is the best, but I tried giving you the before and during the relationship

Requests are still open!

Clarisse La Rue x ShyFem!Reader

Let’s just say you are not one many people know about at camp. You can’t help it but you are honestly just very unsocial because putting yourself out there seems like a lot of work.

You have friends … let's make that clear, but it's not a lot.

Ever since you have been at camp you've had a FAT crush on Clarisse, I mean who wouldn't? Well maybe a couple of kids because she is very aggressive, but you find it charming.

But you would never have a chance with her. Because firstly, if you can't even ask the cabin counselor for some help then you most definitely won't be able to ask her on a date. And secondly, you are the complete opposites! You wouldn't last a week together.

She is loud, not afraid to make her voice heard, and scares others. And you … well you just let things happen and hope for the best.

Not only that she's so athletic and fit. And it's not that you aren't unfit, it's just that you’d prefer sitting alone or with friends.

Only one of your friends, Nicole, knew of this crush, and she supported it entirely. Every time you walked past Clarisse you'd keep your head down but Nicole would nudge your shoulder and let out a giggle.

You avoided Clarisse as much as you could but it wasn't till one day when you were asked to bring supplies to the sword training field did you have to talk to her.

You were SHY! Couldn't look that woman in the eyes as she questioned you. She thought it was cute, to say the least.

“Chiron wanted me to bring these here for you guys to try out,” you spoke softly, setting down a metal bin full of new weapons and other nonsense. Clarisse hummed in approval and picked up a new handle grip.

Luke, one of the boys from the Hermes cabin walked over with a smile on his face “Finally he took our advice on what stuff we needed … Thanks for bringing them Y/n” he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manor.

You were surprised he knew your name. You noticed Clarisse sending what looked like a glare in your direction and you took that as a hint to leave.

“Y/n” her voice called out and you immediately turned to look at her “You good with a sword? I need a new sparring partner … one who I don't know every boring move they make.” She spoke in a harsh voice rolling her eyes in the direction of Luke who was twisting his sword around and making noises like it was a lightsaber.

“I'm not good with swords, I'm more of an archery type of girlie.” You responded “Sorry”

Your hands were sweating as you gazed down at the ground. “Then let me teach you … every demigod needs to know how to work every weapon.” she looked you up and down before stepping away, hinting you to follow.

She picked up her sword and then a spare and handed it to you. You stood there like a dork, and she took a stance.

After what felt like hours she finally stopped, “You're not that bad.”

“Thanks, you mumbled” trying to catch your breath as you handed back the sword to her. The sun was setting and you felt a rumble in your stomach. “Uhm I should probably get going … I promised my friend I’d get to dinner early for her.”

Clarisse nodded her head eyeing you “Fine.”

When you arrived at the dinner pavilion you took your spot at your cabin's table, your friend slapping your shoulder slightly in annoyance for your lateness.

Eventually, Clarisse arrived sitting down at her cabin's table, and filling her plate with food, she noticed you sitting with your friends. How they all talked loudly and yet you just sat there quietly eating, once in a while smiling at what was being said.

She thought it was … cute? But she didn't like the mysterious card you were trying to play.

So the next time she saw you walking past the training field she called your name, with her hands on her hips and hair pulled back as she waited for you to come to her. “Yes?”

She hinted to the sword on the ground and you picked it up. Luke and Chris had noticed her change of behavior, especially towards you. If that was Luke she called over and he was confused as to why, she would have called him an idiot and to go kill himself.

But she didn’t tell you.

After an hour of training, she tripped you and you fell, “Why don't you fight back … you need to slander me.”

“I'm good” you mumbled standing back up and swinging back “Why are you so quiet? I've seen you yell before yet you won't now.” she taunted you … but hey at least she's noticed you before!

“I'm just naturally quiet, I'm not big on yelling, it's a lot of work.” You spoke up, clashing the sword down onto hers, this made her smirk slightly.

When you guys finished up and sat down on the grass she took a sip of water from your water bottle and then handed it to you.

“I want you to go out with me,” she said, looking out in the distance “You're strange,” she spoke up once more.

“Oh?”

“You don't have a choice, so don't act bitchy when I pick you up from your cabin. I want you pretty and sweet.” She added with a demanding tone.

And that's what you did.

After 2 weeks of dating? (Clarisse wouldn’t clarify, I think she just figured you knew you were because if you looked at anyone else she'd glare at you) you began to have doubts.

What if your relationship wouldn't work out, you were so completely different it was almost awkward.

Like for example, when you were told to sit with her at the Ares cabin table, they were all so rowdy and she just kept laughing, and you just sat there with a blank face.

Or when you went on a library date, she figured that was code for making out, but it was actually just you wanting some company while you read. (She was a little disappointed she couldn't hold your hips)

And it wasn’t just you who thought the relationship was a bit weird, Nicole (that wench) also believed the relationship was … different? But she thought it was so cute how Clarisse was the voice that you didn't like to use.

For example, when this kid kept talking and was so annoying at the campfire, you gave Clarisse a look that didn't really mean anything but also meant a lot and she shouted at the kid to shut up.

All the differences outweighed the similarities and it only made you worry, which caused you to distance yourself.

One thing you didn't realize though is how much Clarisse believed you to be adorable, and how she loved seeing a different side of you when you are alone. Even if it's only a little bit more talkative than usual.

But she wouldn’t tell you that. Hell no.

This worry drove you to a lot of self reflection, which took place in your bunk. A party was happening that night and you thought to yourself that maybe if you went and showed how you could act, Clarisse might think you are good enough and keep you around.

So you found yourself getting dressed with a scowl, sliding a tank top over your head and putting on a skirt. It was a party at the Aphrodite's cabin, and you knew she'd be there for this.

So when the time came you walked over, and just as you approached the cabin you heard a whistle, you turned and saw Luke and Chris walking a bit behind Clarisse and her siblings. Clarisse gave them a death stare and shouted 'shut up' and walked over to you, leaving her siblings.

“What are you doing here baby? I thought you said you weren't gonna come.” She said in a soft voice, but in your head, she sounded disappointed, maybe she didn't want you there so she could hook up with some other girl.

“I wanted to surprise you… I can leave if you want me to.” But Clarisse shook her head grabbing onto your waist “If you leave I'll only follow. I'm just surprised you came, I know this isn't your type of scene.”

Which was true, you only go to parties with your friends.

“I just wanted to show you that I can be sociable” you mumbled looking at her with soft eyes which caused her to smile “I know you are princess … but you don't have to go out of your way to change yourself just to prove you can be like me so we are more alike.''

She spoke gently, and she knew that if anyone heard her act this way she'd pause the conversation just to stab them.

You felt embarrassed now, becoming very aware of how you looked. “You look hot though baby” She mumbled through a smile as she gently kissed you. “Wanna go back to your bunk?” she asked and you nodded your head with a smile.

#luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #wlw #reqs open

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notsoattractivearenti · 8 months

Text

Goodbye, Summer (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

Song Inspo: Summer Love - One Direction (listening to the song while reading is highly recommended!)

WC: 2.7K

Warnings: cursing, angst

A/N: after a few months i finally finished this fic!!! this is my first christian angst it felt kinda strange to write one for him lol and just so y'all know i haven't been able to write angst with a happy ending so, be aware. and the start of the ‘summer love’ is a lot different than usual hopefully not too weird for your liking tho. also this wasn't proofread, sorry if this turns out to be shit. anw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

“Cause you were mine for the summer

Now we know it's nearly over

Feels like snow in September

But I always will remember”

—

Summer has come to an end. Well, technically summer hasn’t ended yet – but Christian had to move to Italy and this move wasn’t exactly planned but quite expected – so yeah, to me, summer is about to end. And the moment Christian hops on the plane, there goes my summer of love. It was fun while it lasted – though I wish it would never end.

Christian told me he was leaving just a few days prior. He had been back to the States two days after the end of the Premier League season and ever since we had been spending the summer together. I knew this was coming as we agreed we would only be together for the summer but I didn’t think it would be this hard.

—

I met him through a mutual friend last year when he was briefly in Florida to visit his family and friends for Christmas. I still had a boyfriend at the time – even though my relationship ended the very next day, it was already broken to begin with – so we became strictly friends and I had no intentions on dating him. Jokes on me, because I had caught feelings for him but I was so wounded by the heartbreak I wasn’t even aware of it. He did catch feelings too, though he thought I needed time to process the breakup so confessing his feelings wouldn’t be appropriate.

I didn’t want a serious relationship for a while – or so I thought – therefore I didn’t even think of dating since my last one. Christian and I would sometimes text each other, but it wasn’t a constant thing. We hadn’t really seen each other in person since because of the distance, but I watched every match he played and usually texted him to give my support before the match.

One night within the second week of May, he told me by text that he was going back to Florida for summer break and looking forward to spending the rest of the summer with me. I thought to myself: why would he spend his short break with me? I responded to him by asking why just me and not his friends and family, hoping he would say something funny and odd like he always does and instead he said something I didn’t see coming.

“Because I like you and I want to be with you.”

My heart stopped the second I saw that text. Christian… Likes me? My goodness, what an oblivious idiot I had been. I was deeply wounded by my past I didn’t see what was going on in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what else to say and I accidentally left his text on read that night.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I’ve freaked you out haven’t I? Fuck I’m sorry!!!”

Oh shit. I woke up to those unread messages from Christian – I just remembered I hadn’t texted him back last night. I immediately tried to reply but as my thumbs touched the screen to type, no words came to mind. I honestly didn’t know how to react, if I tell him I’m not looking for a relationship would it hurt him?

“I…”

“Christian…”

“If you want a relationship, I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…”

I locked my phone screen right after I sent those messages. I hoped I wasn’t being too harsh to him, but being put in this position was so overwhelming and I didn’t know what else to say. I just… I wasn’t ready. And I couldn’t tell when I would be. Not to mention he lives thousands of miles away from me and I didn’t think I could handle the distance.

An hour later, I finally heard back from Christian.

“I get it and I respect that.”

“What if we just… Be together for the summer?”

“We don’t have to think about what’s gonna happen after. Just be in the moment… You and me.”

I gave that idea of his a thought – a not-so-long thought because I was assuming I didn’t have enough time. I’d admit, while I found it interesting, I couldn’t help but wonder: would it be worth it? Would someone get hurt at the end?

Before the day ended, I finally made up my mind.

“Okay. I’m in…”

“But just for the summer.”

“And only if nobody is gonna get hurt.”

—

When he arrived, I was the one who picked him up at the airport. We absolutely spent our summer together everyday – there wasn’t a day that went by without him by my side and vice versa. He invited me to spend some time with his family and friends on their boats, and I had him spending time with mine on either the beach or my family’s home.

We were well aware we only had each other for the summer, thus we made sure every moment counts no matter how little or big it might be. We knew once this summer ends it also marks the end of our time together and go back to live our own separate lives. I didn’t want to think about what will happen next – I just want to live in the moment.

The more I spend my time with him, the stronger my feelings grow. It’s been messing up my mind, but I couldn’t let it ruin my summer. This was the best summer I’ve ever had in a long time, and I would not take it for granted. The memories we were creating throughout will forever live on in my head.

—

In the middle of our “summer of love”, Christian came to an agreement with AC Milan, and by that his time in Chelsea had come to an end and he had to relocate to Italy. And the club wanted him to join them for preseason, meaning his summer break had to be cut off sooner than he planned.

When he broke the news, I was stunned – not that I wasn’t happy about his move to Milan, I just needed time to process it. I also wasn’t ready for our summer to be over, but the circumstances forced us to cut our time short. It was pretty saddening for us that we unfortunately had to burst our little bubble.

“So… That’s it for us then?” I carefully asked.

“Let’s just not talk about it.” He refused.

I didn’t want to cause a fight at the time, so I agreed to let it go.

The entire time, I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him. But eventually I couldn’t do that forever. You can't escape the reality no matter how much you want to.

—

Christian was packing his bags as he had a flight to catch the next morning. Yes, I couldn’t emphasize enough that we know our whatever-you-called-ship is coming to an end. In every hello there is a goodbye, right? But why does this feel so hard?

We have tried really hard not to mention anything about the fact that our summer love will be over soon but it is an inevitable topic. There is no way we can escape the conversation, especially on our very last day together. And I have to be the one to bring this up because Christian clearly didn’t want to – he might be the one who suggested the idea, but he is the one who is more in denial.

“Chris, you know we both have to say something, don’t you?” I tried to start the conversation.

“Can we not? Please.” He whimpered.

“We have to.” I insisted.

He kept packing in silence, not wanting to talk about the painful reality. I was sitting on the corner of his bed while he was standing across from me, avoiding eye contact since I started talking. He was looking down all the time – organizing his belongings – and not once he took even a little glance at me. I looked closely at his face, paying attention to every little detail I could. His face was red, eyes were puffy and watery, lips were tight – it was obvious to me he was trying so hard not to cry.

“So are you just going to freeze me out the entire time or?” Still no answer from him.

I went and sat a lot closer to him and he tried to look away.

“Stop it, please! At least just look at my fucking eyes if you don’t want to fucking speak!”

And suddenly I saw tears running down on his face. He couldn’t hold them back anymore – his heart was completely shattered and it was obvious he was nowhere near ready to face the harsh reality.

“Chris… Listen…”

“Why can’t you change your mind?”

He asked a question that got me startled.

“What is it about me and the time that we had that made you certain you still don’t want a relationship?” His voice was trembling.

It took me a while to even say one fucking word to him. I felt like the worst person on earth for breaking the sweetest man’s heart. And to be honest, I broke my own heart too – and I was really trying my hardest to conceal it from him.

“Chris, you were the one who said, and I quote, “just be together for the summer”! I was being so clear I didn’t want a relationship yet you still offered me that. There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just… I’m not ready. And I don’t know when I will be again.” I desperately tried to explain myself to him but I seemed to upset him even more.

“Yeah, right.” He shook his head and smacked his lips. “Whatever you say.”

I sighed.

“Chris… Please, why won’t you believe me?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t buy your bullshit anymore.” He replied coldly, while wiping his tears.

Now done packing, he grabbed the car keys and put most of his belongings in the trunk.

I still wanted to have more conversation – about us, specifically – but after he was done with his stuff, he refused.

“I’m tired and I have an early flight to catch tomorrow. I think I should just go to sleep right now.” He said as he walked into his room.

“Yeah, of course...” I responded.

I tried to softly grab his hand but he swung his arm further away from me.

“See you tomorrow, Chris. Goo-”

He slammed the door on my face before I got to tell him goodnight. At the moment, I thought to myself: oh no, he really hates me.

—

The next morning I drove Christian to the airport. He was going to Milan with his dad and he was meeting him at the airport. On the way there, we didn’t really talk much. There was so much silence – and somehow it made everything even more painful.

I couldn’t handle the tension any longer, so I tried to break the ice.

“Hey, thank you for spending the summer with me. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He only nodded.

“Umm, I’m sorry this only lasted for a short while...”

He looked down, he sniffed and rubbed his nose and sighed.

“Well, have fun in Milan! You needed a fresh start and you’re about to get one… Christian, I am proud of you.”

I tried to be supportive and not say anything that could be perceived as “something wrong” because I knew he was in a fragile state at the moment, though it seemed like he wasn’t going to respond the way I hoped he would. I was genuinely proud of him by the way – always have and always will.

He looked up but still avoiding eye contact, let out a slight smile and chuckled a little bit.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And uh… Maybe you’d forget about me with all the girls you’re going to meet there...”

I immediately regretted what I just said. Shit. What the fuck did I just say?

He finally looked directly into my eyes – a look full of disbelief and disappointment. There was a moment of silence between us. This time, I was the one who couldn’t see him in the eyes.

“Chris, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t m-”

“How could you say that, Y/N?” He cut me off before I finished talking, by the tone of his voice I could tell he was mad at me.

I froze for a minute. I knew I had fucked up but I never thought it would be so much worse – at the moment I was really, really fucking shit up.

“Do you think my feelings for you aren't real enough so other girls can easily make it go away? Do you really think I can forget you just like that? Are you implying that what we had all summer will not stick in your memories?”

“Wha- no, Chris, that’s not what I mean!”

What a mess I had made... And before I knew it, tears started to fill my eyes.

“Well to me it sounded like that. I’m appalled to know you don’t see whatever we were as something real and meaningful. Maybe it was a mistake to even ask you to give us a chance in the first place.” He sounded like he was truly aching and filled with regrets.

I glanced at him for a bit and I saw him biting his lip and his face was already all red. I never wanted our goodbye to be this heartbreaking but well… In this situation it’s bound to happen, isn’t it? Because I didn’t want to escalate our situation any further, I decided to shut my mouth and stop talking altogether. I was aware that whatever I said might hurt him deeper. Fuck, why can’t things be easier?

—

After what felt like a very long ride, we finally got to the airport. We met Christian’s dad, Mark, at the front gate as I helped Christian with his belongings. Mark greeted me and gave me a hug.

“Hey, Y/N! Thanks for dropping Christian off, if only you could come with us to Italy!” Mark excitedly thanked me, not knowing what happened between Christian and I.

I shook my head and slightly laughed to cover my discomfort. Then I saw Christian looking at his watch, and whispered to his dad: “let’s go.”

I took it as my cue to leave, so I said my farewell to both of them.

“Well, have a safe flight, Mr. Pulisic.” I smiled and nodded at Mark.

Then I turned to Christian. He was still visibly upset – I didn’t have the heart to say anything, really. I had caused him a lot of pain, and I was afraid to open my mouth. But at the moment I knew I had to, since I didn’t know if we would ever see each other again.

“You too, Chris. Good luck over there.” I softly tapped his arm.

I waved at them and was ready to walk away when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned around and it was Christian. He pulled me in for a hug – a very, very tight hug, like he wouldn’t let me go. He rested his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back the whole time. It was a long hug – probably the longest ever for both of us – and we could no longer keep our overflowing emotions inside anymore.

“I’m sorry…” I whimpered.

“I know.” He whispered.

He stroked my head and kissed me in the forehead. His lips stayed there for a while.

“Y/N, I have to go...”

It was the hardest thing to do but I pulled away from the hug. Before he went inside, he took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/N, you will always be my greatest summer love… I will never forget you.” He said under his breath.

And the moment he walked through the gate, that was the last time I saw him in person. What we had might be short, but I will forever be thankful Christian made my summer unforgettable.

—

“You were my summer love

You always will be my summer love”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic angst #footballer fic #footballer fanfic #footballer imagines #footballer angst

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beautifulblooms · 6 months

Text

A little catching up - Prince Sidon x Male Reader SMUT

So lmao, I finally got around to writing some nsfw content, this is actually fairly old but I figured I’d dig through some of my old files and post some things, I’m not super proud of this (deadass forgot I had it too, but I hope y’all enjoy it)

Heads-up, this doesn’t exactly reflect my current writing style (didn’t wanna rewrite all 3.2k words of it) so it might read a little funky with the first person reader.

Btw there will be more coming soon too, I’ve got a few projects in the works with CoD stuff.

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

It’s been a long fucking week, first, you had to leave the domain to accompany Link on one of his quests, which left you bruised and pissed off. Then on the way back a blood moon rose to the sky and revived all the lizalfos, the octorocks, bokoblins, moblins, and even a few stray guardians that had landed themselves on the path back up to the domain. Finally reaching the bridge that led straight into the kingdom you sighed, the sun had risen by then and all you wanted to do was lay on Sidon’s stomach while he floated above the deep waters of the East reservoir.

Each step after the other felt forced and almost not your own as your legs began their usual path from the bridge up to the reservoir dam where the bed you had been given resided. Hoping to find your lover sprawled out there waiting for you or swimming within the waters you were sorely disappointed when he appeared to not even be there. Nor had anything changed in the area since you left. The bed was perfectly made from when you last left it. None of the bottles or dishes on the sides had been moved or opened. Even a thin layer of dust had begun to form, strange given the room was open air. Giving into the fact that your royal lover wasn’t there, you lay on the bed after removing your shield, armor, and weapons from their places amongst your body. Pulling the covers over yourself and closing your eyes a deep, well-deserved slumber was yours at last.

As you slept, Sidon was up at Vah Ruta watching over the lands of Hyrule as its red beam was aimed at Calamity Ganon. He had been none the wiser that you returned, your paths hadn’t collided given you could only take the roads home while he could swim all the way to the divine beast if he wished. The sun was directly overhead, noon, when Sidon decided he should head back, missing the comfort of the pools and the joyous laughter of young Zora running about. Climbing down the mountain Sidon wondered if you were back from your trip with Link yet. He only said that you would be gone a week at most, so he counted down the seven days that you were set to be gone. That’s the reason he came all the way up to Ruta, to see if he would be able to find you along the path and walk back to the domain hand in hand.

Once he reached the banks, he began swimming up the rivers, small falls, and finally one of the larger ones leading straight up into the central area of the domain. Asking around if anyone had seen you, the guard stationed at the entrance said you came through and said hello before heading up to the dam. He could’ve settled with a mere nod and would be sent running, but the fact that they told him where you were made him spring faster than he had ever run before. There was no direct path with water to your room, so the bridge and staircase leading up was the only option. Racing up the stairs, nearly falling off around the bends, he makes it to the top and finishes his sprint as he makes it to the bed.

He almost couldn’t help but pick you up and start swinging you around in his arms, but he knew you needed rest and a lot of it. Trips like these with Link always took it out of you and he knew it. Very gently he picked you up in his arms, removing your outer layer of clothes to leave you in a pair of boxers, he headed towards the reservoir. Thank the Goddess you were a deep sleeper, he had no intentions of waking you as he was getting into the lake. Making his way into the water, he turned onto his back with you on his stomach, almost curled up on his abdomen he smiled. He always loved these moments, the world was calm for the two of you, nothing else mattered, it was just you two in a lake with nothing to bother you.

It was nearly dark when you woke up, gently lifting your head, the surroundings set in rather quickly. You were no longer in the bed you fell asleep in, instead, you laid on your lover's chest, in the middle of the reservoir, at dusk.

“Good morning my darling,” he said in a quiet but excited tone, he could only hold back so much joy that you were awake.

“Good morning, well, it’s evening isn’t it” you giggled lightly at the end of your statement, happy to be where you were.

“I’m happy you’re back” Sidon spoke calmly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

“I’m happy to be back, and in the one place I favor most of all, with you” Pushing back into his palm you smiled, locking eyes with the prince.

“What shall we do now that you’re awake? We could keep floating out here, go lay in your bed, watch the night sky, explore the mountains, what do you wish to do?” Sidon rattled off the first things he could think of for you both to do now that you were revitalized after your long journey.

“I think I have a better plan my prince, let’s get back to land first” There was a glint in your eyes as you said it, he couldn’t figure out what you meant by it but agreed nonetheless and started using his feet to kick you both back to the dam.

Standing on solid ground you stretch your limbs out, a few creaks here, a crack there, and a happy sigh leaves your lips. Coming up behind you Sidon wraps his arms around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

“So what did you have in mind my dear?” He whispered, the moment was peaceful and he dared not break it.

“How about we spend some quality time together, on my bed, for a few hours, and possibly have some fun while we’re at it?” There was that glint in your eyes, once again he couldn’t quite figure it out, but with the way your tone relayed its sultry message, he came to understand very quickly.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, but I do have a question,” you hummed, urging him to continue, “who’s going to be on top?”

“I’ve been gone far too long, and I want to please you my prince, allow me to do so.” Turning around to face him you started running a hand up his chest, leaving it near his pecs as he thought over his response.

“Then be my guest” Sidon replied huskily as he unwrapped his arms from you and headed towards your bed. Once in your small room, the boxers you had left yourself in were thrown to the side, next to everything you stripped off before your slumber. Sidon laid himself back on the bed, it was just big enough to where he could stretch his legs out and they had a couple inches before the end of the mattress. Spreading his legs apart with a hand on either of his knees, you scoot between them.

“How rough do you want me to be?” A normal question you would ask before sex, always wanting to make sure you weren’t too rough on the Zora.

“As rough as you please,” the look he gave you said more than his words did, needing no further response you continued to move closer to his crotch. Beginning to push onto his sheath, two tips began to poke their way through. A groan leaves Sidon’s mouth as you continue to prod at his sheath, he’s not all too used to having someone else do it for him. Finally able to see half of his cocks, you begin to lightly tug on them as well, encouraging them to fully come out. With a little more pressure and jerking of the lengths, they are fully erect and out of their sheath. Sidon locked eyes as you began to kiss the tip of each cock, a small whimper escapes him when the kisses become sloppier and precum starts to leak from his slits. Now you have deep-throated one of his lengths before, and while you’ve tried both, it’s never been possible for you. That was going to change today. Taking one into your mouth, you start the usual routine.

Sucking on one while your hand slowly pumps the other, after about a minute or two, you switch dicks, using your saliva as a lube of sorts to make it easier to jack him off.

“Oh my Goddess, (y/n) please keep going, you feel so good.” All Sidon could do was beg you to keep going and moan out with how good you made him feel. Pulling off his cock, you began to jerk both lightly, then you pushed both tips to your lips. Sidon let out a gasp as you took the first few inches of both cocks into your mouth. “Please don’t hurt yourself dEAR-“ his words were cut off with a moan as you shoved another few inches into your mouth. His lengths were equal in size, but they were not small in any capacity, both were long and thick, so 5-6 inches deep into both you could feel the tears beginning to streak down your face.

Once you got comfortable with that bit in your mouth you started bobbing your head, pushing a little bit further each time you went down. Eventually, you managed to get both cocks to the back of your throat, feeling the tips smack into your throat was a shock, a painfully pleasant one. Sidon put a hand on your head as he tried to steady himself with how much pleasure he was receiving from you. Moans and grunts were all he could produce at this point, too overwhelmed to form words let alone a sentence. Slowly speeding up once you felt his hand grip

your (h/l) (h/c) locks, the moans he let out became louder and higher pitched, he was coming close to his peak, and that only spurred you on further.

Thankful for the distance you had from the domain now more than ever as his volume somehow only increased. His hand never actually pushed you down further or faster than you went, he knew you were providing more than enough pleasure for him that he dared not intervene. A few more bobs of your head and he came, shooting stream after stream of thick cum down your throat. A lovely thing about Zora, their sperm glows in the dark, a beautiful thing to see especially when it’s nighttime. As you pulled off his cocks, a small bit of his cum dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. Swallowing whatever was in your mouth still, you made eye contact, heaving right after and moving forward to kiss Sidon.

“Every time I taste you, you only get better my prince.” Your words made him moan into the kiss, only able to speak between the searing lip lock you were caught in. As you moved a hand to his face, the other was busy at his ass, finding his hole rather quickly before using some of his own cum as lube. Pushing a finger in he moaned into the kiss once more, before you pulled away to scoot back on the bed. Making yourself level with his hole you began to stick your tongue inside of it, licking and opening him gently with the wet muscle before coming back in with a finger and then two. Scissoring those gently before getting rougher and rougher in your motions, a third finger is added as the process repeats once more.

“How do you feel Sidon, how do I make you feel?” Asking for his praise he moans and manages to get a few words out.

“Amazing! No one else could ever make me feel the way you make me feel!” Finally getting what you want, you remove your fingers, pleased with how stretched he is. Using some of your own spit left on your hand, you lube up your cock before aligning it with his hole. Slowly pushing the tip in he grabs at the sheets, trying to go slowly even with the urge to shove your whole length into him. Inch by inch you work your dick into his tight hole, reaching your pelvis you stop and let him rest with your dick fully inside. Sidon taps your thigh giving you a “go ahead” before you start moving slowly. Pulling out to the tip you push back in slowly, once you set this slow steady pace Sidon takes a couple of minutes to get used to it before begging you to speed up.

“Please (y/n), go faster please, we both know I can take it.” His words just urge you to pull out and slam back in. A shrill moan is ripped from his lips as you start a brutal pace into him. He was right about one thing, he could take whatever you gave him. Continuing the pace you grab his thighs, attempting to just push them up so his legs are bent. You continue with his legs like that for a good while before you decide you want to be deeper into your lover. Grabbing the back of his thighs you push them to lay on his chest, the new angle allows you to shove yourself all the way into his hole.

“BY THE GODDESS YES!” Sidon screams at the top of his lungs, his prostate well abused by now as your tip continues to jackhammer away at it. At some point, he grabs his legs by himself and holds them to his chest to allow you to use your arms for whatever you please. A hand went to his throat while the other went to his cocks, lightly squeezing his throat and jacking him off at the same time. It took very little time with all this stimulation to cum for the second time that night, the luminescent liquid splattering his chest, yours as well, your hands, and some even made it to his face.

“Look at you all covered in your own cum, how beautiful it is to see you glowing from it.” A chuckle followed your statement as you continued your brutal pace into his asshole. Letting go of his cocks to let them rest after orgasm, your other hand went to support you by holding onto his thigh. It only took another dozen thrusts or so before you were pouring your cum into his ass, filling him up with more than just your dick. Pulling out you let yourself catch your breath as Sidon stared up at you, blissed out and the happiest he’s ever been. “How about one more hm?” He perked up at your words, confused by what you meant. Then it all clicked when he saw you pulling his thighs down and straddling his waist.

“Wait (y/n) I just came and so did you, shouldn’t we wait a minute?” He hurriedly spoke, trying to figure out your rush in movement.

“But the best pleasure comes from that.” The words you spoke were full of lust, and nothing but it as you started to slowly grab and jerk off his cocks. Rising up above them, you aligned both with your own hole, slowly pushing down. Now you were not stretched nearly as much as he was for your cock, so the process of sinking down took much longer. Managing to get both tips in, you sit there for a moment, letting you both adjust to the feeling, then half an inch further, a rest, half an inch, rest, an inch, rest. This continued until you were sitting on both cocks, both deep inside your ass, brushing your prostate just by sitting there. Slowly you pulled your hips up, pulling out until his cocks were halfway out of you, then falling back down onto them. Doing this again and again you tried to set a pace for yourself on his massive lengths.

Finally getting a steady pace you pull out until nothing but his tips are inside you, then slam back down. You both moan louder than ever and then you do it again, lift up, slam down. Continuing over and over again, until you are simply fucking yourself dumb on his cocks. You knew his orgasm was approaching quickly when he started to grasp at your thighs and thrust up slightly when you came down. With his help thrusting up, you started to feel that oh-so-familiar knot bundling up in your stomach. Keeping up the pace you set, it took not more than 10 minutes before you both came in sync. Your cum shot onto his chest and face while he shot into your ass, filling you so much that it began to leak out around his cocks.

You sat there for a good while, not wanting to move from the rather comfortable position. After roughly 15 minutes you slowly pulled his softened cocks out of you, cum dripped out of your stretched hole and he was covered in it. Moving to lay beside him, you collapsed once you weren’t directly over him, shimmying closer to his larger frame for warmth.

“Was that enough pleasure for you my prince?” You ask quietly, not able to raise your voice with how sore your throat is.

“That was more than pleasure my dear, that was ecstacy and nirvana.” He gazed down at you as he spoke each word was quieter than the last. Sleep was slowly becoming a need for both of you, but not wishing to sleep covered in layers of cum you stood up and walked to the lake.

“Are you going to come wash yourself or are you going to lay there covered in cum?” Turning around to face Sidon, he moved his head up to look at you, not even thinking twice before standing up very slowly and carefully, having orgasmed three times he was shaky. Grabbing your hand, you both stepped into the lake and started to wash yourselves. Moving closer to the Zora you started helping him wash off some of the sweat and semen from his chest and face. Once you were both clean, you’d stepped out of the lake and walked back to the bed. Sidon’s cocks had gone back into their sheath by now, but you just grabbed your boxers you haphazardly discarded earlier and slipped them on.

Sidon removed the cum and sweat-covered sheets on the bed before grabbing a fresh set for you both to sleep on. Laying down he opened his arms, awaiting you to climb into bed with him to sleep. Falling into his arms, you snuggled ever closer to his chest before closing your eyes.

“Goodnight my prince, I love you.”

“I love you as well my dear, sleep well.”

#male reader #male reader fanfic #x male reader #mlm account #nblm account #prince sidon x male!reader #prince sidon x reader #prince sidon #sidon botw #botw fanfiction #loz botw #botw #prince Sidon botw #smut #botw smut

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year

Text

My Boyfriend Can Fall Asleep Anywhere (Slight NSFW 18+)

AN: He acts like you don't know him like the back of your hand

Synopsis: Your loving boyfriend can fall asleep anywhere as long as he has his most comfortable pillow which is you

Pairing: Urban Wyatt x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

"Babe, are you sure you still want to go? You hardly slept last night." You asked, while running your hand through his curls.

You just knew he was about to fall over at any minute.

It was no secret how hard he worked all the time and you could tell that it was now catching up to him. He admitted that he hadn’t been sleeping a lot while on tour seeing how there were so many things going on and you took it upon yourself to come and spend time with him for a few weeks, hoping he would sleep better if you were near him.

“I’m fine, we can go.” He said leaning down to kiss you and you quickly gave him several pecks back.

“But…”

“We aren’t staying long anyway and then I’ll be able to go to sleep.”

“Um, the event isn’t even over until two in the morning.”

“We don’t have to stay that long, though.”

It was hilarious actually.

Urban was a known insomniac, however, he could fall asleep anywhere and has done it multiple times before. It could be in the middle of a full blown party and he would be knocked out on the couch.

“I’d rather you go to sleep now.”

“Before I give you this work?” Urban questioned and raised an eyebrow at you while you simply rolled your eyes.

“Urby, the only work that I’ll probably get from you is having you slide in me and fall asleep within five minutes. Cockwarming would suit this situation and not anything else.”

“Well damn.”

“But did I lie?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Exactly.”

“Besides, I’m the one hosting the after party, how am I not going to show up?” Urban asked as he looked over at you changing out your shoes to match with the new outfit that you had put on.

“You’re about to fall asleep while we’re there, I know it.”

“Twenty dollars says I won’t.”

You did a double take to look at him and scoffed.

“Didn’t realize my boyfriend was so cheap.” You said while standing up and walking towards him.

“I AM NOT! DIDN’T I JUST BUY YOU A CARTIER BRACELET? TAKE IT BACK.”

“NO!”

“FINE 50 DOLLARS!”

“Lord, help me.”

In one of the rare occasions, Jack would also be coming to the after party along with the rest of PG. You would think that because he would have all of his friends around him that it would be easier for him to stay awake, but you didn’t count on it and couldn’t wait for him to hand you your 50 dollars.

The after party was underway and you were currently sitting on Urban’s lap as he kept placing kisses along your neck. Once he had stopped doing that, you would look back at him every few minutes to make sure he was still awake since you noticed that his grip around your waist would loosen.

It was only a matter of time until he was out like a light.

And to think it was only midnight and there were two more hours to go.

“Baby? You okay?” You asked while turning around and looked to see that his eyes were closed and he had leaned his head back.

“I’m fine, I’m just resting my eyes.”

“And that’s what my dad says every single time before that man is out like a light. We got two more hours to go of this. Get this work my ass.”

“Don’t tempt me because I will give it to you right here.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stay awake long enough to get your dick out.”

“Wait a minute… URB?! ARE YOU SLEEP?!” Jack exclaimed while looking over at the two of you.

“NO!”

“NOT YET, ANYWAY!”

“BABY, CUT IT OUT!”

“YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAND ME MY MONEY NOW.”

“Wait, yall made a bet?” 2fo curiously asked while coming over to all of you with a drink in his hand.

“Only fifty dollars since my boyfriend is so cheap.” You said while rolling your eyes.

“Didn’t he just buy you a Cartier bracelet though?” Quiiso said while looking at your wrist.

“Doesn’t count, he only said fifty because he knows that he’s going to lose.”

Just then you felt Urban slide you off of his lap and you were now sitting next to him.

“What the?” You asked confused and looked over to see his extremely heavy eyes.

“Damn, Urb, just hand her the money now, you not about to last much longer.” You heard Shloob say from his spot on the other side of you.

Another twenty minutes had passed and you then noticed how Urban had now wrapped his arms around you and was face first in your boobs knocked out cold.

“And he said that he would be able to stay awake the entire time.” You said as you were simply playing in his hair.

“Is he? Is he really face first knocked out on your chest right now? In the middle of a party that he’s supposed to be hosting?”

“It never fails.”

You then heard muffling and realized that it was coming from Urban.

“Babe, what?!” You asked not understanding a word that he had just said.

He then picked his head up to answer you before putting it back in its original position.

“I’m awake!”

“Urb, you were snoring face first in your girlfriend’s boobs. You were asleep.” Jack said while laughing at him.

“Run my girl her money.”

“Remind me to never get Urb to host any of my parties. How is he the host and he sleep?”

“For the last time, I’M AWAKE!”

“He’s just as bad as a toddler, fighting sleep.”

“He’s always been like that.”

“Yall are aware that I can hear, right?” Urban asked while turning his head to look over at them before going to face plant right back in your boobs.

“Urb, baby, your head is getting heavy. I didn’t realize I was going to be your pillow while we were here.”

“His head is kinda big.” Ace barely said above a whisper and you swore that you were probably the only one who heard him and laughed.

Urban then looked up at you and pouted.

“Can we leave now?”

“Sure, as soon as you give me my money.” You said while kissing his nose and he immediately rolled his eyes in response.

“Or, how about that Cartier necklace I showed you the other day?” I mean, you might as well try, right?

“Don’t push it.”

“You’re just mad because your girlfriend was right.”

A little while later, the two of you were now laying in a comfortable silence in your hotel room after you had taken a quick shower and wrapped up your hair. You were surprised that Urban was still awake and all he was currently doing was staring at you. Even though your eyes were closed, you could still tell.

“Stop being a creep and go to sleep. You already fell asleep in my boobs earlier.”

“Do you blame me? They’re comfy and I’m not being a creep.”

“Then why are you staring at me?” You questioned him while peeking one eye open.

“Damn, I can’t look at my girl now?”

“You’re looking at me like you want something and my answer is about to be no because you need to go to sleep. Next thing you know Jack will be in the middle of performing and your ass will be asleep somewhere.”

“WILL NOT!”

“WILL TOO!”

“Anyway, remember what you said earlier?”

“I said a lot of things earlier and it was me primarily telling you that I knew that you would fall asleep.”

“Well, if you let me slide….”

“URBAN!”

“YOU SAID I COULD EARLIER!”

“All I said was that was probably the only thing you had enough energy for.”

“Sooooo? You gonna help me out or not?”

“Damn it, Urban. I swear I can’t stand you.” You said while sliding off your shorts and throwing them to the slide.

“That’s not what you were saying the other day when I had your cum running all over this dick.” Urban replied as you felt him slide into you. You tried your best not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but it happened anyway.

“Hmm my baby sounds like she wants me.” Urban whispered in your ear before kissing right below it and you immediately let out a whimper.

“I want you to go to sleep.”

“Hmm, really? Because your body is telling me otherwise.” You then felt Urban move his left hand downwards to rub massage small circles along your clit.

“If I ride you will you shut up and go to sleep?” You asked while glancing over your shoulder at him.

“You won’t hear a word out of me until tomorrow morning.” That was a lie, but you were desperate at this point for him to go to sleep.

You then sighed before flipping the two of you over without him slipping out of you and you lifted your hips up before slowing easing back down earning moans from the both of you.

“Shirt off now.”

You then stopped your movements to slowly take off your shirt and was now on full display. All he could do was admire the sight in front of him.

“Damn, my girlfriend is beautiful.”

“I know, but you still haven’t given me my money yet.”

“Ride me like you said you would and I’ll give you a lot more than that.”

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hogwartsandhawkins · 7 months

Text

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 12: Don't Be A Stranger

If you need to catch up here's the masterlist

Summary: Apparently... Jess has new plans for Christmas

Warnings: Mentions of Neil (gross), crude language, cursing, Neil being homophobic if you squint, Billy being a little shit. I think that's it, but as always, let me know if I missed something.

Word Count: 4.8K

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I've been MIA for so long but I'm officially back from my month and a half vacation! TBH I've missed you guys and hope you all enjoy!

“You chaperoning tonight?” Steve walked with Jess toward the parking lot from the gym as they left practice much earlier than usual. The coaches considered this an “early Christmas present” but ensured the basketball team would be having practice a week before school started again in January. The Snow Ball had been the talk of this school week even if it was only meant for the middle schoolers. However, it had also been an excuse for the high schoolers to throw their own parties or get-togethers, not to mention it marked the beginning of winter break, something everyone, including Jess, was looking forward to.

“Not this year, you?” Jess already knew the answer. Steve never enjoyed that kind of thing, and even if he did, both Nancy and Jonathan would be there tonight, which would have made him want to change his plans.

Steve shook his head but added, “I’m helpin’ mini-Harrison with his hair tonight though and droppin’ him off tonight.”

“Who? Dustin?”

“Hell yeah Dustin. He’s gonna kill it tonight, I know it.” Jess laughed at the thought of Steve combing another teenager’s hair for them.

“So what are your plans tonight then?” Jess contemplated this question. She wasn’t sure whether she would start on the tedious task Mr. Crowley assigned both her and Billy as Billy probably wouldn’t want to spend his first night of freedom studying. Considering the night it was, she was sure that Hargrove already had plans. She then looked out into the lot and saw him leaning against the familiar blue car, cigarette already placed in his mouth of course. Max was there as well, which surprised Jess since their practice was released 20 minutes after Max’s school was.

“Uhm, maybe get a head start on some schoolwork. I’m not sure really.” She kept her eyes on Billy though, hoping that maybe that would change.

“Lame.” Steve teased. He continued to walk with Jess, passing his own car as he did so.

“Uh wasn’t that-“

“I thought I’d walk you. Besides Max is there,” was all he said, keeping his eyes on the pair in front of them now, eyeing Billy skeptically as he walked up. “You excited for tonight, kid? You’re first one, right?”

Max beamed up at Steve, clutching her board as she responded, “Oh yeah, can’t wait, especially since Henderson said you’d be doing his hair again, and that went soooo well last time.” Steve cringed at the memory of two weeks ago, which was described to Jess as a wreck. Dustin apparently was adamant about doing it himself, as he was a hands-on learner apparently, and it ended with screaming from spraying product right in his eye and a small chunk of hair being ripped out due to his hair tangling in the comb, which Dustin swore was due to him balding.

“Yeah well, I’ll be doing it tonight… I think.” Steve began to stare down Billy again who was also looking at him intently, blowing smoke straight at Steve when he glanced over at him.

Steve aggressively waved his hand once to get most of the smoke away from him, annoyed by the gesture. “Harrington.” Billy nodded his direction once Steve was able to get most of the smoke out of his face.

“Hargrove.” They stared at each other for a moment longer when Steve continued, “Guessing you got big plans tonight,” he prodded, insinuating he would be partying with Tommy and Carol, as the pair were always up to something during the Snow Ball.

Billy swiped his teeth with his tongue as he crushed his red with his boot, smirking to himself when he looked down to ensure it was fully put out. “Don’t really know, Harrington. Depends on what this one wants to do.” He gestured toward Jess, which caused Steve to shift uncomfortably, not enjoying the thought of Jess spending as much time as she had been with Hargrove. Steve rolled his eyes at this, being the first to break the staring, and directed his attention back to Max.

“See you when I drop Henderson off. Don’t have too much fun.” He directed his last statement to Jess, shoving her arm lightly as he finished his sentence, flashing her a smile of acceptance to lighten the mood. He made sure to give Billy one last look of disapproval, though, before he turned back in the direction of his own car, shaking his head as he left them.

Jess sighed as she watched her best friend leave. She had made it a point to hang out with Steve more this week, as there wasn’t much for her and Billy to do for their shared reading and she felt as if she had been blowing him off more the past week. However, she felt guilty when she would sometimes imagine what Billy was doing during her moments with Steve.

Considering his failed relationship with Nancy, a relationship that he sacrificed a decent amount of his friends for, she knew he needed her in a way. And the feeling was mutual. He had been the one person she could turn to after the haunting incidents from a year ago and again just a couple months ago. She knew she could never lose Steve. And yet, here she was, spending time with the one person Steve couldn’t stand. Throughout the week Steve had come to accept her and Billy’s strange partnership, which Jess always defended with, “we may as well get along for the project” or “he hasn’t been a total ass yet” occasionally sprinkled in their conversations.

This thought also irritated Jess. She wasn’t able to do right by Steve, her best friend since moving to this town, when she secretly enjoyed Billy’s company. And she couldn’t do right by Billy, a boy who over the past weeks had shown just how great of a friend he could be when she constantly undermined his character around Steve. She began to realize she was running out of time, that she would have to be truthful eventually, and that she was on the verge of hurting someone’s feelings. But just like cleaning out her closet, she decided to push this task for later. After all, she wasn’t exactly lying, was she?

“Okay, Jess, I’m in.” Max’s voice ripped her from her thoughts as she turned back around to face the passenger side of Billy’s vehicle.

“Oh, right.” Jess lowered herself in the seat, placing her bag on the floor of the car as she closed her door softly. Billy still had a smirk plastered on his face as he too watched Steve walk toward his car, but it fell when he shifted his head to Jess who was looking at him, mildly annoyed.

“What?”

“I know you’re just trying to piss him off.”

“You don’t know shit, Jess.” Billy gave her a teasing smile as he reached toward the glove box to retrieve his Ray Bans.

“I know he really doesn’t like you.”

“Yeah, well.” He placed the glass on the bridge of his nose and pulled out of his parking spot, unphased by Jess’s statement. Jess tsked at his nonchalant behavior rolling her eyes slightly, turning up the radio for background music. “So what are you doing tonight, Logan? You’re not one of those freaks who chaperone are you?”

Jess nudged his arm harder than intended. “I used to be, thank you very much. But no, not this year.”

Billy laughed at how offended she was. “I’m just sayin’ I don’t understand why any normal teenager would want to spend their night doing that.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s actually kind of nice.”

“Whatever you say, princess. You know, we haven’t broken in your ‘new’ TV yet.” Billy began to raise his eyebrows at her. “Let me take you to Family Video and actually pick out a good movie.”

“I actually already watched Sixteen Candles this week in my room. So it is broken in.”

“Without me?” Billy pretended to be hurt by this fact, gasping at the end of his question for effect. “After I moved it to your room and everything?”

“You don’t even like that movie.”

“I do!” Max spoke up from behind them, leaning in closer to the middle console as she scooted her body closer to their seats.

Jess turned to face her, smiling triumphantly as she addressed her. “Well then maybe we should have a movie night.” She then eyed Billy smugly, insinuating he was the one who had shit taste in movies. Max bounced excitedly at the thought of this, realizing that she would have all the free time in the world this winter break.

“Alright Logan, you let me pick one movie, and the rest can be all the corny chick flicks and sci-fi shit you pick out.”

The three of them pulled into the Mayfield/Hargrove driveway, Billy turning off the ignition before turning to Jess. “Wanna come in for a bit, need to pick up my wallet and drop the kid off to get ready for the Shit Ball.” He flicked Max’s forehead as he said the last part, earning his hand a loud swat from Max.

“The Snow Ball.”

“Whatever.” Jess once again rolled her eyes at their bickering and left the car, but before Jess could position the passenger seat to allow Max to leave comfortably, she instead climbed the middle console as she normally did in the mornings and stepped on the seat before crawling out. “Aye, watch the shoes shitbird.” Max ignored him, walking into the house first with her skateboard in hand. Jess and Billy quickly followed, Billy holding the door for them, closing it once they were all inside. Max quickly retreated to her room, Billy leading Jess to his.

Billy walked straight to his mirror, which stood next to a table that had an assortment of colognes and an ashtray. His wallet was placed next to the tray. Billy thumbed through it to make sure its contents were still there and turned to see Jess standing by his dresser, eyeing what appeared to be a photo album. “Ah shit, forgot to put that away.” He began to grab for it, but instead of putting it away as he first intended, he opened it in front of her. “I guess I did promise to show you California, huh?”

Billy flipped through the album and within seconds made it to pictures of his favorite beach. It looked exactly as Billy described last weekend. The sand looked so soft like it couldn’t possibly burn your feet even if you stepped on it on the hottest day. The ocean was crystal blue, white foam collecting at the edge where it met the shore. Jess looked at the picture at the bottom left and saw the same beach, but this time a beautiful woman was standing in the middle, smiling as bright as the sun that caused her to shield her eyes when taking the shot.

“Is that…”

“My mom,” Billy confirmed. He stared at the picture with Jess, his face still as stone.

“You look a lot like her,” Jess replied softly, afraid that the comparison would make him uncomfortable. Billy nodded his head. He knew this already. Everyone said it.

Except Neil.

“Yeah…” he whispered, his head nod accompanied by a melancholy smile. Jess turned the page slowly, allowing Billy time to stop her if he felt the need to. When the page was flipped, what she found instead of the same beach were birthday pictures, a young Billy posed in almost every one of them. She looked at the middle picture on the right page and saw Billy smiling behind a cake with five candles lit in a circle. The color of the frosting caught Jess’s attention, as it was a strange shade of purple with random blue streaks hidden in spots of the cake.

“You like purple as a kid?”

“What?”

“Your cake.” Jess watched as Billy’s eyes made his way toward the same picture, and then he began to shake his head.

“No, uh, my favorite frosting’s strawberry.” He began to run his index finger over the cake lightly before pulling away again. “But, you know, strawberry frosting’s pink. And my dad didn’t like that so much. Made my mom fix it. She was tryna turn it blue.” Billy then turned the page and directed Jess to another cake, this time it was a shade of bright red and had six candles that were not yet lit. “My dad didn’t like the purple too much either but said it was better than nothing.” He then let out a sad laugh as he kept his attention on the new cake.

“But the next year my mom changed the color. Perfected it, I guess. That’s kind of why red’s my favorite color now, got used to it every year.” However, this wasn’t entirely the case. The truth was, though he did favor red when buying certain clothing and objects for his room, he would much rather be able to say that pink was his favorite. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was due to the fact that he wasn’t allowed the color in his life. Maybe it was the way that he was envious Max was allowed it though she was able to choose not to like it. But he chose red, just like his mother did, and that would have to be enough.

Before Jess could figure out how to respond to this, Billy began to navigate effortlessly through the pages again, where he found more recent pictures of himself and other teenagers who looked around his age at the same beach he showed her earlier. They stayed for a moment as he pointed out certain pictures and memories before he grabbed the album and plopped it on his bed, nodding toward it, indicating she should go sit. He went to the opposite side dropping himself down as well as he moved the album closer to the pair. Billy propped his upper half with his left elbow, his lower half draped off the right side of the bed. His head would have been on her lap if he hadn’t been holding himself up, making Jess shift nervously. They continued to look at pictures of the beach before Billy changed positions, allowing his eyes to meet hers.

“So whatya think now, Logan, east coast or west coast.” Jess looked away from the pictures and down at Billy, who was already giving her a smug grin, looking up at her with a glint in his eye.

“Mmm…” Jess then shrugged her right shoulder forward, rocking the upper half back and forth, teasing her uncertainty, “I guess California isn’t too bad.”

Billy turned himself once again, facing the album, his arm now brushing against Jess’s leg as he continued to flip through the pages with his other hand. There were now pictures of carnival rides and games. Behind most of these pictures was a beach, but it was much more crowded than the beach Billy had been showing her.

“Santa Cruz beach boardwalk,” Billy said as he continued to turn the pages. Lots of pictures were taken here, many of which had what looked to be an 8 or 9-year-old Billy throughout them. There was only one of what looked to be a younger Neil, still sporting the same mustache he had now. Unlike his son, he wasn’t smiling as he barely wrapped his arm around Billy for the picture. “My mom always wanted to visit the Bay Area.”

They continued to look through the pictures, Billy attempting to only show her the pictures of things to do in the state of California and avoid pictures of his family and childhood home. It wasn’t until Billy glanced down at his wrist to look at the time when they decided to leave his room. “Better get goin’ if I’m picking the movie tonight, huh?” Billy playfully smacked Jess’s leg as he began to pull himself off the bed. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, jingling them in his hand as he made his way to his bedroom door. Jess left the album open on the bed as she followed him out of the room, both of them walking out the front door together.

Billy walked toward the passenger door as he began to make a habit of opening it for Jess when she was riding with him. She remembered when she used to be annoyed by the gesture, but now she realized that she rather enjoyed it, allowing him to shut the door for her when she was secured inside. When he entered the car as well, he quickly peeled out of the driveway, ensuring they were no longer driving on Cherry Lane when Neil’s vehicle pulled in.

They pulled into the parking lot for Family Video in record time, Billy wasting no time as he promptly exited the car. He began rounding the front of the Camaro but stopped when he watched Jess open her own door and exit just as quickly. Jess noticed where he was standing and looked back at the door before looking at Billy again.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Didn’t I say I was a gentleman?”

“Eh. You’re kind of on and off with it.” Jess smiled back at him as he shook his head.

“Smart ass.”

Billy walked closely behind Jess as they entered the store, making a point to open the door for her before they did. She began to look around the store, beginning to walk toward the left. However, Billy grabbed her arm and began to steer her to the right of the store. “Wrong way, princess.” She looked in the direction of where he was leading her, and her eyes began to widen as she saw the section they were entering.

“Absolutely not!”

“Ah come on. I’ll be right there.”

“Yeah. That makes me feel soooo much better.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He let go of her arm and began thumbing through the horror movies, looking around to try and find something more interesting than what was already in front of him. He then looked over at Jess again, still expecting an answer to her earlier statement.

“You seem like the type to try and scare me even more than the movie is going to.”

“You should learn to trust me a little more, Logan.” He then held up two tapes and faced them toward her. “How about I let you choose.” Jess was now looking at Friday the 13th and Halloween II.

“How about…” She mocked the way he spat out his last sentence “… neither.” After what happened in Hawkins, she would have thought her fear of horror movies would have subsided, that nothing could beat the fear of what she witnessed both last and this year. It was only a week before Halloween that Steve also attempted to watch Halloween II with her and Nancy, and instead of Nancy cuddling up to Steve as he intended, she was allowing Jess to hide behind her as she refused to look at the screen. Steve looked only slightly put out the rest of the movie, earning Jess the nickname “cock-block” for the rest of the week.

“Alright then, smart ass.” He put back Halloween II, the movie Jess would have picked if she really had to, considering she had already “seen” it, and held the other tape in his right hand, beginning to steer Jess to the front counter with his left.

“Are we really gonna watch that?”

“I’ll let you pick out the snacks.”

“Great...”

Billy successfully added the rented movie to his family’s account and the two of them left, Jess shuffling her feet a bit slower than usual, slightly less excited for tonight, not wanting to seem incredibly lame for her inability to watch the screen as the movie Billy picked out played.

As they left the parking lot, Billy drove passed the mini-mart everyone usually picked out snacks for a movie from Family Video, and instead began in the direction of the grocery store on the other side of town. Jess began to turn her head toward the mini-mart and began to open her mouth before Billy quickly interrupted.

“Can’t go there. The guy won’t sell to me.”

“Won’t sell to… what do you mean ‘won’t sell to you’?”

Billy just gave her a mischievous grin and turned his attention back to the road. Jess then scoffed. “You really think we’re gonna be drinking in my room with my parents in the same house?”

“Relax… it’s just for me. Unless you actually wanted some. Then whatever.” Jess just shook her head in response, failing to hide her smile as she pretended to disapprove.

They arrived at the grocery store where Billy apparently had the “hookup”, a middle-aged man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Billy quickly went after a six-pack of American Colonial and then turned to Jess. “Whatever you want, princess.”

“Whatever I want.” Jess repeated back, reassuring Billy that she will be getting just that. Considering that she would be forced to watch a movie that would cause Billy to tease her for the rest of Christmas break, she figured he owed her. She made her way to the candy isle first, grabbing a few Charleston chews bars and then a Twix bar. She handed these over to Billy, freeing up her hands as she walked over to the chips and crackers isle, grabbing a bag of Doritos and a package of room-temperature microwave popcorn. “You’re lucky I have drinks at the house,” she stated smugly and began walking toward the register Billy pointed out to her earlier.

“Is that everything…” The middle-aged man, apparently named Brian, asked with a monotone voice.

“Yup,” Billy responded, not looking back at the man until he slid his cash out of his wallet and handed it to him.

“One thirty-two is…”

“You can keep it big guy.” Billy grabbed the bag and the six-pack from the side of the register, nodding at Brian as he turned to leave.

“Yippie…” Jess heard Brian sigh as they walked away.

The ride to Cherry Lane was longer as this grocery store was not on the same side of town as their neighborhood was. When they eventually made it back home, it was beginning to get dark, which made Jess slightly anxious.

“Shit, I think dinner’s done…” Jess began as she unclicked her seat belt and reached for the door handle. The original plan, as described by Billy, was for him to drop her and the goods off, park his Camaro back at his house, and wait a few hours before climbing her roof to her window. However, she looked back at Billy with something else in mind. “Do you… wanna maybe come in? For dinner I mean. I don’t think my parents will care. You can still come back later tonight.”

Billy looked at her for a few moments, watching her nervously shift as she asked this question. It caused him to smile. If he were to tell her the truth, he would say how much he enjoyed the first time he ate dinner with her and her family, and how she would never have to ask if he wanted to do it again. All she would have to do was tell him he was welcome to.

Instead, he dropped his smile and shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from her and to her front door. “I mean, I guess.”

“You don’t have to if…” Billy was already out of the car, unwilling to have her finish that sentence.

“Let’s get to it, Logan.” Billy was at her car door again, opening it as she grabbed the plastic bag from her feet. When her door was closed, she noticed that he had taken the six-pack out of the car with him.

“You said that was for you!” She whispered harshly at him.

“It is. For tonight.” He winked at her and positioned the pack at the bottom of the bag, covering it with the rest of the snacks. “Why do you think I asked for your shit to be double-bagged?”

“Dammit, Billy.”

“Better hurry upstairs.” He winked again, nudging her with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll distract them. They love me.”

He was right. For some strange reason, they had taken a major liking to him, especially since the TV incident. And to her dismay, her mother refused to stop talking about how Billy Hargrove was such a ‘nice boy’.

Yeah. Right.

Jess swiftly unlocked the front door and made her way to the stairs, movie in one hand, the now heavy plastic bag in the other.

“Hey mom, I’m just gonna-“

“Oh hi, hun. Oh and Billy! What a wonderful surprise! Dinner’s about ready if you’re hungry dear.”

Billy had obviously occupied her parents without even trying, giving Jess an ample amount of time to stash the bag before either of her parents even wondered what she had. When she made her way back downstairs Billy gave her a chum smile, accompanied by another wink as he made his way to the dining room.

“Told you,” he whispered just loud enough for Jess to hear, both Mr. and Mrs. Logan scrambling around the kitchen.

“Shut up.”

Dinner tonight was made up of skirt steak, Mrs. Logan’s famous garlic mashed potatoes as served last time Billy stayed for dinner, and an assortment of roasted vegetables. As usual, it was amazing. The silence that accompanied the occasional sound of silverware clanking against porcelain was soon interrupted by Mrs. Logan.

“Oh! Billy!” Mrs. Logan took a drink from her wine glass before continuing as she captured the rest of the table’s attention. “So my husband has been talking to your father…” she smiled at Mr. Logan, missing Billy’s cringe at the mention of his dad. “They’ve been doing a lot of that at the bank, and the topic of Christmas came up.” She was now looking back at Billy and Jess, both their expressions confused.

Mr. Logan cleared his throat, nodding as he was beginning to remember the conversation his wife was alluding to. “Right. So we normally do Christmas Eve with the Harrington’s and their boy Steve. He’s actually on the basketball team as well, I’m sure you know him.”

The same mischievous smile from the car came back as he looked over at Jess quickly before turning his attention to her father. “Oh yeah. Harrington. We’re great friends.”

“Oh good. Figured you would be.” Billy glanced over at Jess again as she cleared her throat. “Well we were thinking, since your family is new into town, you guys live practically next door, and since you, Steve, and Jess seem to be friends, I invited your family over for Christmas Eve as well. We just do dinner and-“

Mr. Logan was interrupted by Jess choking on her steak. She reached out for her water and chugged a bit, clearing her airways before looking at her dad. Billy was covering his smile with his hand, his elbow propped up on the table, attempting to look unphased.

“Sorry,” Jess coughed out. “D- do you think we’ll have enough room? I mean, we don’t have that many chairs and-“

“Oh don’t be silly, it’ll be fine. Besides, the table extends and I’m sure we’ll find some other chairs upstairs," Mrs. Logan butt in. Billy remembered the room upstairs with all the old, mismatched furniture, and wondered if any of those chairs would be in any condition to be sat on, considering most were missing legs.

“Alright,” Jess said in a small voice, pushing her food around with her fork. It wasn’t the idea of having Billy over for Christmas Eve that made her uneasy, rather, the fact that she would be having Billy over for Christmas Eve with Steve Harrington. It will be a whole evening. A whole evening of Harrington and Hargrove in the same house. At the same table. And she would be in the middle of it.

The vexatious glint in his eye was still there as he removed his hand from in front of his mouth and looked back and forth between her parents. “That sounds great. Can’t wait.” He then smiled over at Jess before bringing back his attention to his food and began to eat again. “By the way Mrs. Logan, dinner is amazing.”

Jess continued to sneak annoyed glances at Billy, who was smugly eating his dinner, apparently amused at what just happened. When everything was finished and both Billy and Jess brought the remaining dishes back to the kitchen, Billy once again spoke up.

“Thank you so much for tonight, but I should get going soon. Again, Mrs. Logan, dinner was great.”

“Well thank you for stopping by, don’t be a stranger!” Mrs. Logan called out to him.

Billy strutted his way back to Jess, who was standing at the landing of her stairs by the entryway. As he reached out for the doorknob, he looked down at Jess, towering over her until he bent down so his lips were just at her ear.

“See you tonight, gorgeous.”

@nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove stranger things #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove antis dni #billy deserved better #billy hargrove deserved better #billy hargrove x oc #billy fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #billy antis dni

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waitmyturtles · 1 year

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Turtles Catches Up With the Essential BLs: Bad Buddy Edition

[The Reasons and Gratitude: While QL has exploded in volume over the last half-decade, I’ve been juggling a career with making and feeding babies. Now that my kids are bigger, I’m catching up on the essential QL dramas. Big ups to @absolutebl’s encyclopedic lists that I use for reference, as well as the recommendations of many dear mutuals. For the Bad Buddy recommendation, I thank my forever darling, @the-nihongo-adventure! Thank you for reading my reviews of shows you’ve already watched! REALLY LONG POST COMING: caveat emptor.]

I’ve been thinking for days on how I should start this review. Bad Buddy has waylaid me with an emotional brutality (in a good way!) that I haven’t been able to shake for weeks. Couple that with a speedy education in the ways of Aof Noppharnach through Moonlight Chicken, and well, my middle-aged heart has taken a lot.

Before I dive in, I’d like to quickly cite the amazing @emotionallychargedtowel, who referenced Murray Bowen’s family systems theory in a post about pursuer-distancer couplings. Family systems theory posits that human behavior is shaped by the structure of the family unit as a complex social system. In other words: through spoken, unspoken, assumed, and expected demands, instincts, boundaries, and pulls/pushes, humans as individuals are conditioned to interact in society vis à vis how they learned to interact with others through their familial upbringings.

Why do I bring this up in regards to Bad Buddy? I haven’t even begun to plummet the sheer depth of analysis about BBS on Tumblr (I’m deeply impressed by the volumes of analysis by my new dear mutual, @telomeke-bbs, whose posts served as wonderful references while I was watching the show), so if I’m repeating popular analysis, I apologize.

But for me, BBS was rooted first and foremost in a study of intergenerational trauma, and how our two UNBELIEVABLE protagonists, Pran and Pat, battled expected roles and boundaries from their families/family systems and friends to end up together.

I know now, through Moonlight Chicken, that Aof is an utter master at layering themes together. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.

And I want to say upfront that while I want to be an objective reviewer of this show, I absolutely cannot be. While I’m thinking about Aof’s mastery of studying intergenerational trauma through the lens of a QL drama, my heart aches, in passionate subjectivity, about how important his work is for young Asians watching it. I only can wish, as a first-generation child of immigrants from South and Southeast Asia, that I had been able to watch these shows when I was growing up. If I had seen Asians making shows about intergenerational trauma through an Asian lens, about very progressive topics like same-sex relationships in Asia -- I would have known that there was a world of support and shared experiences for the kind of intergenerational trauma that I and my friends faced, when we all were growing up, Asian in America and elsewhere.

This was a terribly long introduction to say that while many other themes percolated throughout Bad Buddy (in typical Aof fashion, as I’m now understanding), including school dynamics, Thai queer culture, unrequited love, familial acceptance of same-sex relationships, and more -- that for me, in a very biased way, I HAD to see this show through the lens of intergenerational trauma. This show helped me to have hope that generations of continental and diasporic Asians will be better able to fend off these pressures through the medium of drama art.

So. My thoughts on Bad Buddy are rooted in a lens of intergenerational trauma. But what I also picked up on, vis à vis the boundaries I mentioned earlier emanating out of families as complex social systems -- is that Aof threw in a little (actually a lot) of David Hegel’s thesis-antithesis-synthesis framework as well. This framework allows for the criss-crossing of boundaries to come to a unified resolution -- and good lord, Bad Buddy came to that conclusion so INCREDIBLY well. The Hegelian framework was the means by which, I think, Aof could explore tearing down the deep-rooted effects of intergenerational trauma on the Asian society depicted in BBS.

Throughout the entire show, Pran and Pat danced around boundaries. At least at the start of the show, they never dared to cross the line between the two garbage bins in the front of their houses. These boundaries had been CREATED by Pran’s and Pat’s parents. And the boys were taught from birth -- you cross that line, and bad things will happen. Don’t play with the boy next door. Don’t fall for the kids next door. So: don’t get caught in front of us.

But Pat and Pran crossed the boundaries BEHIND their houses, BEHIND the VERY watchful eyes of their families, starting at a young age, and keeping that boundary-breaking a secret. Pran crossed a significant boundary by saving Pa from drowning.

But then they went to the same university, and new boundaries formed, between their arch-rival faculties. Pat sees that pressure and acts within it, defending his engineering homies against Pran’s architecture friends.

We saw in the first episode that it would be Pat’s family that would be the first to begin breaking those boundaries as adults -- but it wasn’t Pat who began that work. It was Pa.

I’ve always found it interesting that it’s younger siblings who often have the “easiest” time breaking hard-set boundaries and family codes. I know, because I count in that category (and I know this is an overgeneralization, but just roll with me for a sec). Younger siblings see the shit their older counterparts -- parents, sibs, whoever -- create and deal with. And younger sibs then can develop better ways of managing the pressures that come from that shit. Myself included, I’ve often seen younger sibs be the first ones to marry in family units, to have children, to get jobs, to move away from home, etc. Younger siblings often have the ability to say NO more easily than their older family members. It’s, I think, a natural occurrence to take place in a family system of multiple siblings.

So it’s Pa who says to Pat: promise me you won’t hurt Pran. Right off the bat, she asks for a breaking of a boundary that Pat, his parents, and the engineering faculty homies want to uphold. And Pat, being devoted to his sister, agrees to the promise -- and the whole confused dance between him and Pran as adults begins.

I LOVED this. The show needed an immediate impetus to break what could have been a groaning, stereotypical Romeo-and-Romeo paradigm. This wasn’t going to end in mutual suicide -- hell no, not in a Thai BL. This drama needed to go places. As well, for me, I think Pa was set up to be an indirect foil to the pressures that Pran faces later in the series, simply by way of BEING in the form of a younger sibling.

The repeated theme during the first few episodes that I latched onto was Pran saying to Pat, “things don’t end well when I’m close to you.” In episode 1, Pat retorts -- “at least you won’t get transferred this time around.” In episode 4, Pran repeats himself, and guess what happens? He sees Pat with Ink, and experiences the repeated trauma of unintentional rejection at the hands of Pat.

So, Pran feels like he’s learning his lesson, time and time again. He’s thinking -- I like Pat, I can’t help but like Pat. But my parents might be right. Bad things happen when this dude is around. My heart gets broken.

What’s the difference between Pran and Pat here? Pat can exist more carefree, open, instinctual. He can like people more openly. He can be honest with his feelings. WHY? Because he had a family support system while he was growing up that allowed him to take risks -- because he had a sibling, because he was the eldest son -- because he knew, through his family structure, that despite his behavior, that his family would be there for him. He was simply raised differently, in part because his family was slightly bigger, and his family had LESS to lose if they potentially lost Pat to a lifetime of disapproval. Pat can take risks, because he’ll still have Pa, even if he loses his parents.

When I think about Pran, through the lens of intergenerational trauma, I go back to the family systems theory. While I was talking about younger siblings earlier, Pran’s a totally different story. He’s an only child. He IS the BRUNT of the familial pressure to conform to everything his family wants him to be. He was raised that way, and no one can help it, if the family unit is a triad. If Pran disappears from his family because of their disapproval -- not only do they NOT have a son, but Pran HIMSELF doesn’t have a family. He has far more to lose. He feels he can’t take risks.

I am sure there’s reams of analysis about how understandable Pran’s reaction to his first kiss with Pat was. But I took his walk away from Pat to be that recognition. Pran simply could not believe in a future with Pat -- no way. Pran would lose everything he knew.

Hegel’s framework? This is Pran’s thesis: while I love Pat, I can’t have Pat, because if I have Pat, I’m crossing a boundary that should never be crossed. My world will fall apart. I need to walk away and deny that that kiss ever happened.

And what’s the antithesis here? I think, at this moment in the series, the antithesis IS Pat. It’s Pat’s queer revelation, and his ABILITY to just MOVE on his feelings. In just ONE EPISODE, y’all! In episode 5! SO FAST! (Come AWN, Pat, you WINNER, LOVE YOU.) But that’s Pat for you -- Pat, the antithesis of Pran, the guy who can move, because he has less to lose.

(Let me stop for a sec, stop the analyzing. THAT KISS. THE BEST EVER. NANON! OHM! COME AWN! AAAAHHHH!!!!)

So what does Pat do in episodes 6 and 7? He starts the first SYNTHESIS: he crosses that damn boundary and chases after his man. He goes to the zero-waste village, and -- as SO OFTEN happens in Hegelian thesis-based frameworks -- the guys go to the sea, to the water, to cross the water, to kickstart Pran’s antithesis to his life thesis, and to begin their synthesis together, their connection. (Remember Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse and crossing the river, woop woop!)

Like I said before -- not to be a huge fuckin’ nerd or anything, but whoops, too late -- I think the Hegelian framework allowed Aof to WRITE this script and leverage the familial boundary risks for the sake of the show. Because, as I wrote at length in my review of the Cherry Magic movie, taking these risks from the perspective of the Asian family unit is EEEENOOORMOUS. Legit, fam: Asian families WILL dump children. There is disowning. It happens. It’s KNOWN, in the backs of our minds, BAKED UNCONSCIOUSLY into our understanding of who we are as Asian individuals, that our families might give us up, because many of our families have overtly threatened it. Even if there isn’t active disowning, parents can passively judge you and be disappointed in you for the rest of your life, and you damn well know it.

Overgeneralization? Whatever you think. But I’ve experienced it. My friends have experienced it. Kurosawa knew it when he risks disownment to stay with Adachi in the Cherry Magic movie. I severely risked it when I, like, grew up -- when I wanted to date, to get engaged, to get married. I didn’t talk to certain family members for years. My siblings’ relationships were strained. All because I wasn’t falling in line with my family’s expectations for who I needed to be vis à vis THEIR expectations of me -- to stay home and let them dictate how to live my life (literally, not joking).

Instead of doing a typical Romeo-and-Romeo set-up, I think what Aof was doing here, by way of having Pat step out first to begin the boundary-breaking -- and we know now WHY Pat could do that, because of his family system ALLOWING him to be a person to take more risks -- is that he was demonstrating that positive change could happen, the trauma could be stopped, if the guys created family between each other. AOF IS SAYING: I’M GOING TO PROVE THAT THEY CAN STOP THE TRAUMA TOGETHER. I’m crying right now.

And before I get further, another note about Aof’s brilliance. He allowed us to see HOW COMPLICATED Pran is, before the real boundary breaking began. He allowed us to SEE that Pran COULD MAYBE BE OKAY with taking a risk -- vis à vis Pran’s love for music. God, I was SO STRUCK in the scene when Pran is writing the high school song with Pat in episode 5.

I think Pran’s not just talking about love here. I think, indirectly, he’s also talking about the risk of riling his family boundaries up.

(I want to note quickly that both Aof and Jojo Phukhaotong really leverage Nanon’s acting beautifully in these moments -- besides this music scene, there was Pran and Wai in the library talking about relationships and the school play, and in Dirty Laundry, Night meditates on music and love to a sleeping Neon. Nanon really nails this unwinding in his acting.)

I think Aof included these scenes of Pran meditating like this, because Pat couldn’t just hold Pran’s hand at the beach and sweep Pran away. That’s not how the Hegelian framework works. You gotta be ready, to be active, you gotta do the WORK, to reach enlightenment. The entire series shows Pran’s journey to acceptance about himself and about the fate he’ll have with Pat. We, as viewers, needed to see Pran be ready to do that. Sure, he has a forever crush on Pat. But we’ve now established the utterly enormous risks he faced -- more so than Pat ever needed to deal with -- if Pran’s family learned about Pran’s feelings, leanings, and ultimate decision to be with Pat.

We needed to hear, verbally, that Pran’s hesitation was real, that he was balancing in a very complicated way, all the risks he needed to consider. Maybe some people got frustrated at the high level of his complicated feelings, but I think the pace and plot made total sense. And, oh god -- the scene at the beach, where they touch hands and imagine a world where their parents aren’t fighting. Oh my god. AAAAAHHHH. Tears. Synthesis, baby, synthesis.

So then. The boundaries between the guys come down. They start getting kee-yoot. The games in episode 7, the help with the play in episode 8. It’s chef’s kiss, y’all.

But the boundaries come roaring back. The trauma resurfaces. Even while Pran contextualizes to Wai in the library -- “you can’t change the person or the time” when you fall in love -- what also doesn’t change is the world around them. The faculties still hate each other. Pat experiences familial rejection for the first time in his dad’s disappointment about the architecture play. The relationship is revealed. Wai rejects Pran. The seniors reject Pat.

(FAN BREAK: luv you, Aof, that gratuitous shirtlessness at the xylophone, LOVED IT, ::pointing to Aof::, LOVED IT.)

But. Episode 9 kicks in. Korn comes thru, MVP. (Yum, satay.) And I see something in Pran, when he approaches Pat at the bench at lunch.

I see Pran finally, truly, CROSSING HIS OWN LINE. Pran could have PANICKED at the revelation of their relationship to the school. He could have used it as an excuse to chicken out, to back away, again to cite that bad things happen when I get close to you, Pat.

But Pran didn’t do that. He holds Pat down, he steadies Pat. They hold each other down, because -- oh god, my chest is aching here, I’m tearing up -- in that moment, Pran’s recognizing that you need to be there for the family you’ve chosen and made. These are HIS NEW BOUNDARIES -- his new family system and unit. It’s his, and his alone.

Sure, we see in earlier episodes that part of Pran’s love language is nurturing, through cooking for Pat (and sometimes Pa, too, omg so cute), and that he learned that at the hands of his mother. But I saw something different in that simple scene at the lunch bench, after Pat got rejected by his seniors. I saw Pran’s confirmation that he was going to stick the landing of the synthesis, once and for all. That was when he wasn’t going to use any other excuse, ever again, to walk away from Pat, as others had begun to do to Pat.

And then we get the last three brilliant, BRILLIANT episodes of this already brilliant series. Let me set this up, because I think the way Aof did this, as yuzh, was incredible:

Episode 10: There are too many things about episode 10 to list in this already enormous post. I may have to write a separate post about how I think episode 10 was one of the greatest single episodes of a drama I’ve ever watched (the penultimate episode of Extraordinary Attorney Woo also comes to mind).

In any case, the Hegelian framework comes roaring back. We’re nearing the end of the series, and we need to remember as to why we’re here, and how we got to this point. The episode served as a major reminder of Pran’s original thesis -- we learn the reason why the families were at war. We learn that the demands of the separation came from Ming and Dissaya. The boys come out to their folks. The truth of Ming and Dissaya come out.

We learn that Ming himself is a product of MAJOR INTERGENERATIONAL TRAUMA, from his father, so much so that he fucked up a major opportunity for Dissaya. Trauma on trauma on trauma. (Seriously relatable for almost all Asians with pressurized parents.)

And Pran -- PRAN -- TELLS HIS MOTHER, TO HER FACE, that it was HER traumatizing HIM that led HIM to be the way he IS. At the end of this episode, before he rejoins Pat, he finally confronts his mother, and begins his holistic antithesis for the final time.

The boys come back together at the end of the episode, and weep, and embrace. And Pat says: we’re getting the fuck out of here.

(Now’s a good time to link to a meme on intergenerational trauma that my cousins in SE Asia shared with me around the end of 2021 -- interesting timing that this was floating around the WhatsApps and LINEs of that period.)

Episode 11: Leaving. Antithesis. The sea. Crossing boundaries. Living their lives together.

Oh my god, my aching heart. Pat spending most of the episode insisting that they were going to live together, forever, in the village. The antithesis to their lives in Bangkok. Pran knowing better. Pat knowing it, too.

The fact that until the very last minute, the entire episode was spent in the village, meant SO MUCH TO ME. This episode gave the guys TIME to process THEMSELVES, and their decisions. Oh lord, tears on tears.

And: what did the guys do? THEY COMMITTED TO EACH OTHER. CREATING THEIR FAMILY TOGETHER. They were going to do it THEIR WAY -- and, AND, AND -- BREAK THE CHAIN OF TRAUMA that they both faced, as assigned and influenced by their parents, by leveraging their new family unit TOGETHER.

And who helped give them that oomph, that power? Who helped them get context to see that that work was WORTH DOING -- even if it wouldn’t end up changing their families?

Uncle Tong. The boys got to see that through Uncle Tong.

They got to see that one individual, or two individuals together, can’t change the world. The boys learned, indirectly, that they can’t change the world of their parents. But they can improve THEIR OWN WORLD.

Episode 12: SYNTHESIS.

When I was perusing the BBS tags for analysis, something I read piqued my interest: that the boys had to remain closeted to their families and friends.

I wouldn’t call it closeted. Instead, I want to guess what Aof was doing here.

I truly think Aof was showing compassion to the parental generation. It’s not the parents’ faults that they themselves were products of intergenerational trauma (peep the meme from earlier).

For me -- I’m an adult now, but I still carry the scars of my childhood -- I was disappointed not to see a bigger family resolution during my first watch of episode 12. But after a careful rewatch, I think Aof was being majorly realistic in his writing. These families weren’t going to come together in a finale, let alone in a day, let alone after DECADES of fighting.

Intergenerational trauma has to stop somewhere if you’re cognizant of it, and Pran and Pat’s parents weren’t cognizant of it. But: the guys certainly were. As we saw in the shots above, Pran himself CALLED OUT his mom for it in episode 10.

So I think I understand why Aof didn’t make a sparkling, holistically accepting ending out of this, because -- it was unrealistic. Ming and Dissaya still carry THEIR scars, and THEY need time to heal, too.

Their partners -- Pran’s dad and Pat’s mom -- are more ready for that change. They’re getting slightly caught up in the winds of change. Hell, even Pat’s mom says, “We are the adults” in episode 10 to Ming. Like Pa, Pat’s mom is demonstrating a little gentle nudge towards changing HER boundaries of the situation.

And the boys stated their stance at the end:

“Just like Uncle Tong said, we can’t change the world. All we could do was adjust to it, and live happily. We might not be able to change the people around us. BUT THEY COULDN’T CHANGE THE TWO OF US, EITHER.” [emphasis mine, obv]

I want to make one very last point that deeply touched my heart, and, I feel, confirms my theory about the boys making a new family unit together, complete with the boundaries of their choosing, and refusing to carry the trauma of their pasts. @telomeke-bbs wrote a lovely post, in part, about the meaning of Pran’s liquor gift to Ming. I totally agree with the analysis, and just wanted to add some cultural flavor.

Being an in-law in an Asian family structure means you show respect to your in-law elders. It’s just an unspoken, natural part of our being (and it helps if you like your in-laws). I’m married to a Westerner, but in many ways, I treat my Western in-laws with the same kind of respect as I would if they were Asian. So that means, I cook generously (they don’t expect me to do it, don’t worry -- I just like doing it, because it makes me feel like we’re family), and I serve up fine-ass cocktails (hell yeah). It’s fun, but it also makes me feel like I’m nurturing my extended family.

Pran gave the liquor gift to Ming, because....Ming is his family. Hey, Ming? Womp womp. You’ve got a son-in-law -- because Pran is taking on that role, despite your best efforts to reject that reality. And I see you, Ming, slowly, slowly, slowly begin to imagine that reality when you took a sip.

The reality is that when the boys became family to each other, they indirectly adopted each other’s families as their own -- because that’s just what happens in a relationship. And the liquor gift confirmed that. My heart SWELLED when Pran gave the gift to Pat, and I saw the duty-free bags in Pat’s family’s living room. How many times have I seen that scene in my life, when fam came back to visit from overseas -- scores of times. It meant so much. I’m going to bring a piece of overseas back to my family, even if my family, my in-laws, reject me. Maturity, motherfuckas. My man, Pran. Best son-in-law.

Aof took SO MUCH of what Asians expect about how our lives should be lived in this show, and absolutely turned it on its head. His SCRUTINY at what keeps adults back, at how adults raise children -- and about how children can CHANGE PARADIGMS, through love and partnership -- is CRITICAL COMMENTARY for young Asians, and young people around the world.

Oh, man. Do I have any more words? I’m all written out. If you got this far, thank you. This show WILL BE required viewing for my kids when they’re older. I want them to see what intergenerational trauma means to their Asian heritage. I want them to CALL ME and my hubs OUT for it. And I want them to know how they can be so strong, like Pat and Pran, to change the trajectory of their lives for the better.

*Tagging @bengiyo by request. <3

#bad buddy #bad buddy the series #backaof noppharnach #turtles catches up with thai bls #turtles catches up with the essential BLs #nanon korapat #ohm pawat #ohmnanon #intergenerational trauma #intergenerational trauma in asian societies #intergenerational trauma in asian families #david hegel #bad buddy meta #bad buddy the series meta #patpran #pran x pat #pat x pran #pranpat #aof noppharnach

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elusivewildflower · 2 years

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Just Another Case | Holland March x Reader

Pairings: Holland March x F! Reader

Summary: You and Holland have been partners for the last year, solving case after ridiculous case together. Even though you’ve been mistaken as a couple countless times while working, the two of you are simply close friends. You might have feelings for him, but you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same. That is, until one particular case comes along on your laundry day, where you’re down to your last piece of clean clothing---a dress and no underwear.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex, the case is about catching a husband cheating. Mostly turns out to be pretty sweet.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve written or posted anything, but I hope I’ll be able to get back on track soon! Work and life has been pretty busy lately. I know in the movie Holland mentions that a “no-fault” law ended a lot of his cases like this, but let’s just say one pops up every now and then. (Because let’s be honest, even if I could divorce with no fault, I’d still like to have proof my spouse is cheating). Thank you to @ninjathrowingstork & another friend for beta-ing this for me! Based on the scene idea I had last week and the request I had sitting in my inbox by @wndawtch.

You press your back against the wall in your kitchen, holding the phone to your ear as your fingers twirl the cord impatiently. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before you cursed under your breath. If he hadn’t answered by the third ring, you knew he wasn’t going to. It rang two more times before you were greeted with the familiar message of Holland’s answering machine.

“You have reached March & Co Investigations. This machine records messages. Wait for the tone and speak clearly.”

The answering machine beeps and you begin speaking.

“Holland, did you forget you’re supposed to be working today? We were scheduled to meet Mrs. Jenkins at noon and you never showed.” You paused, heaving a sigh. “I swear, if you’re fully dressed and asleep in the tub again—“

The other line picked up and Holland’s groggy voice reached your ears, cutting you off. “What’s so bad about sleeping in the tub?”

“Aside from the chance of drowning?” You asked rhetorically before continuing, “because you think that sitting in a tub full of water washes both you and what you’re wearing. Which is so not true, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, says who?” He retorted defiantly.

“I do—and probably a lot of other people if we asked.” You responded quickly, not even waiting for Holland to come up with a response before you began speaking once more. “Get yourself dried off and ready to go. I’ll pick you up in an hour so we can actually start working—I’ve got a lead.”

Holland gave a grumble of agreement and you slammed the receiver back onto the base to hang up. Sometimes you couldn’t understand why you had agreed to be Holland’s partner over a year ago. He had a serious drinking problem and always seemed to get himself into trouble. On the other hand, he was also extremely intelligent—one of the best private investigator’s you had ever seen on his good days—and he was quite attractive. Throw in his sob story about being a single father to a teenage daughter who lost his wife in a house fire and you were hooked.

Not that the two of you had ever crossed over the line of being business partners and friends aside from a few flirtatious remarks, but honestly you wouldn’t mind it. You had grown rather close to the young widower and his daughter, Holly, over the last year. Hell, when Holly started her period a few months ago, she called and told you first before mentioning it to her father. You spent more time at their rental home than at your own, and you honestly lost count of the times people had mistaken you for a couple when you were on a case.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall before heaving a sigh and pushing yourself from the wall you were leaning against to call Holland. There was enough time to start a load of laundry, but it wouldn’t finish drying before you had to leave. As you rounded up the hamper from your bedroom filled to the brim with dirty clothes, you cursed yourself for not waking up earlier in the morning—and also cursed your past self for not doing laundry sooner. You had donned your last piece of clean clothing this morning before meeting Mrs. Jenkins, which was a knee-length floral dress. Its color complimented your skin tone nicely, and the deeply cut neckline made your breasts look fantastic. It wasn't exactly what you'd wear on a normal day of work---unless the day consisted of trying to catch a man cheating on his wife. Which, technically you were, but today's lead included the address of his supposed mistress. You and Holland would simply need to do a bit of a stake out to see if you could catch Mrs. Jenkins' husband coming or going from the property, and the dress was definitely not needed.

Before you knew it, an hour had ticked by. You grabbed your purse, slid your heels back on, and locked the door behind you as you exited your house. You told Holland you’d pick him up in an hour, but you only lived a few streets away and he was never ready on time, so you didn’t care that you were late. Honestly, you weren’t the best with time management either, so you were thankful you had a partner that ran late. A few minutes later, and you were pulling into March's driveway, honking your horn to announce your arrival.

About ten minutes later, Holland finally emerges from his home, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. As he climbs into the passenger seat he glances over at you, doing a double take as he realizes what you’re wearing. “What bar or club are we going to?” He questions curiously.

You shake your head as you reverse out of his driveway. “We’re not going to a bar or club.”

Holland’s brows furrowed in confusion as he ashes his cigarette out the window. “But you’re wearing the dress.”

You should have known he’d recognize the dress. “I have the address to the alleged mistress, we don’t need to go to a bar. We’re gonna do a stake out.” You explained.

Holland still seemed confused, a frown forming on his face as he eyed you over. “What, do you have a hot date after this or something?”

He was clearly not letting this go, and did he seem a bit upset at the thought of you having a hot date? You had to be imagining that.

“No, no hot date. I just felt like wearing a dress,” You gave a shrug as you lied. After criticizing his method of laundry—the thought of sitting fully dressed in a tub still made you shudder—you didn’t feel like admitting that you didn’t have anything else clean.

Holland must’ve believed you, because he stopped badgering you with questions about it. He did, however, start asking about the case. You spent the rest of the drive filling him in on the details he missed when he overslept the meeting you had with your client.

As you pulled off to the side of the road to park, your heart dropped to your stomach. Your client neglected to mention that the mistress’s house had a seven-foot tall fence all of the way around and a gated driveway. You could feel Holland’s eyes boring into the side of your head. Ignoring him, you grabbed the binoculars from the back seats and simply exited the car. You walked up to the gate at the driveway, double checking that you had the right address. Your shoulders slumped when you realized that you were at the correct address. This was going to make capturing photos for proof of his cheating more difficult.

You heard the passenger side door slam shut as Holland joined you. “Well, this is great.” He deadpanned, placing his hands upon his hips as he surveyed the fence.

You sighed, nodding your head in agreement. “Yep.”

A moment of silence passed between you until Holland broke it with a click of his tongue. “Alright, come on. I’ve got an idea.” He ushered, moving to kneel down beside the fence.

Your brows furrowed as you watched him, unsure of what he was planning.

He noticed your look of confusion and sighed, beckoning you closer. “Come on, I’m gonna lift you up there.”

“What?” The question tumbled out of your lips before you realized it, your heart rate rising as fear coursed through you. Holland wasn’t exactly the strongest man in the world, and he tended to be clumsy. You trusted him with a lot of things, but being capable of not dropping you wasn’t one of them. Not to mention that you ran out of clean underwear this morning and were currently going commando under your dress. You swore to yourself that this was the last time you’d ever wait so long to wash clothes.

“Well, I don’t see you lifting me, and someone needs to be able to see over the fence.” He explained as if his idea made perfect sense. Which, in fairness, it did. Except for the two things you were currently worried about; Holland dropping you and seeing up your dress.

You remained still for a few more moments, your feet refusing to move from where you stood as you mulled over your options—or lack thereof.

Holland rolled his eyes at you as he grew impatient. “Oh, come on.” He beckoned you again, “before someone sees us!”

Taking a deep breath, you finally agreed. “Fine,” you began, “But do not look up my dress, Holland.” You warned him sternly, pointing a finger at him.

Holland looked insulted. “Why would I look up your dress?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your finger now wagging at him. “Because I know you.”

Holland raised his hands in surrender, dropping his insulted act. “Alright, alright, I won’t look up your dress.”

Appeased by his answer, you close the distance between you. Holland laces his fingers together, giving you a spot to place your foot. You hold onto his shoulder as you step into his hands, and he lifts you up as he moves to stand. He lifts you a bit too high too fast and you’re suddenly scrambling to grab hold of the fence so you don’t fall.

“Jesus! Not that high!” You scold him as you struggle to find your balance.

Holland mutters out an apology and lowers you slightly.

Leaning yourself against the fence, you raise your binoculars to your eyes. You scan the windows of the house, starting with the first floor. Disappointment flooded your veins as you were coming up empty-handed, that is until you panned to the last window on the second floor. A nude woman was pressed against the window getting railed from behind. You couldn’t tell by who, but you assumed it was your client’s husband. You let out a gasp. Jesus Christ. That must be nice. Just as you opened your mouth to tell Holland what you had found, you heard his voice below you.

“Holy fuck—You’re not wearing any underwear!”

Holland’s words caused you to release your grip on the fence in a panic, snapping your attention towards him. You find him still staring up your dress in shock, his jaw dropped open. You reach out to swat at him, shouting his name in an annoyed tone. “I told you not to look!”

Your words seemed to shake Holland out of his stupor, but your swat only backfired on you. Holland tried to dodge your hand out of instinct, which only served to make him lose his balance and send the both of you toppling to the ground. It happened so quickly you don’t even remember falling, but you definitely felt the pain of the impact. Every part of your body ached, but it didn’t feel like you had broken or sprained anything, so that was good. Your head may have been pounding from smacking the ground, but it was better than your skull being cracked open by the sidewalk. You had missed that by just a few inches, you realized as you rolled onto your side. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you lift me,” you groaned out, looking over at Holland.

Clearly, you had taken the brunt of the fall, as Holland was already sitting up and staring at you. “Why aren’t you wearing any underwear?!” He asked incredulously, ignoring your previous comment.

“It’s laundry day and I didn’t have any clean!” You admitted.

Holland shook his head unbelievingly. “Jesus Christ, I need a cigarette…” He spoke as he reached into his jacket, pulling out his lighter and a cigarette just a moment later. After pulling the first drag, he regarded you once more. This time it seemed like he was checking you for any injuries, rather than staring at you like a deer in headlights. “I’m sorry for dropping you. Are you alright?” He asked sincerely, gesturing towards you with his hand.

You nodded and moved to sit up, another groan tumbled from your lips as your body ached in protest. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You assured him. You may wind up with several bruises and have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow, but you’d survive.

A comfortable silence fell between you once more as Holland smoked and you let the pounding in your head subside. After a few moments, Holland snuffed out his cigarette in the grass. “That’s why you’re wearing the dress,” he announced, having put together that you lied to him earlier. “You didn’t want to wear that, you just didn’t have anything else to wear today.”

Your eyes snapped up from the grass to meet his as he broke the silence, but you didn’t bother giving him a response, your facial expression was enough. He was right and he knew it, you didn’t need to confirm it with words.

“I may bathe in my clothes, but at least I always have clean underwear.” He spoke in a chastising tone that had you rolling your eyes. “So, did you see anything?” He asked after a moment, gesturing towards the binoculars that were lying on the grass.

As you glanced at where he gestured, you remembered what you had witnessed right before Holland dropped you. “Yeah, I saw a naked woman being railed against her bedroom window.” You shrugged and continued speaking as Holland reached for the binoculars. “I couldn’t see by who, though, so we’ll just have to wait until he leaves.”

Springing up to his feet, Holland tried his best to see over the fence, hoping to catch a glimpse of the action. It was no use, though, as he wasn’t tall enough to see over it unless he backed all of the way up into the street—and then he’d likely be hit by a car. He sighed defeatedly and turned back to you. “When does Mrs. Jenkins say her husband comes home after this?”

You looked down at your watch, your eyes widening as you realized what time it was. 1:54 p.m. Mrs. Jenkins said her husband usually got home around 2:30 p.m. and you were about thirty minutes away from where she lived. As if on cue, you hear the sound of an engine starting up in the driveway. Your attention turns back to Holland, his blue eyes connecting with yours. “Right now.” You spoke hurriedly, rushing to get yourself up from the ground. Like the gentleman he is, Holland helped you to your feet and the two of you took off running towards your car.

“Why is our timing always so terrible?” Holland asked exasperatedly as you ran.

“I don’t know, but I blame you.” You replied, slamming the door shut behind you as you hopped into the car.

Holland’s door slammed shut right after yours. “You blame me? Why?”

You’re digging around in the backseat for your camera, not even looking at Holland as you respond. “Because you distract me,” you admit carelessly, not paying attention to the words that fall from your mouth until it’s too late. The car in the driveway is growing closer to the gate, and if it was your client’s husband that was leaving, you needed to capture a picture of it in order to be paid. As you return to your seat, fiddling with the camera to turn it on, you realize what you just said to Holland and your heart hammers in your chest.

Holland shakes his head in disbelief. “I distract you? No, no, it’s you who distracts me.”

Your brows furrow as you glance over at him . “How do I distract you?”

“Are you kidding me? Did you forget what happened not even fifteen minutes ago?” Holland gestures towards the spot the two of you were standing previously. “I just saw up your dress and you’re not wearing any fucking underwear! Do you know what that did to me?”

His question seemed rhetorical, or maybe you had just lost all function in your brain at the implication of his words.

“And don’t even get me started on that dress. You look so god damn sexy in that, and I hate that you only wear it to lure married men into flirting with you for a case.” Holland admitted, only pausing long enough to suck in a breath of air before he continued. “I get so fucking jealous watching those men think they have a chance with you, and you don’t even notice!” Holland stares at you as he finishes, waiting for a response as your brain tries to wrap around what he just confessed.

Your thoughts are running a mile a minute, trying to remember every time you’ve had to flirt with a married man for a case. Did you really not notice that Holland was jealous? Or did you just try to shrug it off because you didn’t believe he could ever feel that way for you? Your mouth suddenly feels dry at the realization, but eventually you speak. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me….”

“Of course I do, how couldn’t I?” Holland spoke as if he couldn’t believe you didn’t notice sooner. “You’re gorgeous, extremely smart,” he then gestured towards himself, “you put up with my bullshit, and you’re so good to Holly.” A small smile spread across his face as he spoke of his daughter. “She loves you, you know?”

You returned his smile and nodded, leaning in closer to the center console. “Yeah, I know.”

Holland closed the short distance between you, his face mere inches from yours as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, hesitatingly whispering his confession. “And I love you, too.”

Gazing into his cool blue eyes, you couldn’t help the blinding smile that grew on your face. “I love you, too, Holland.” You admitted before capturing his lips. Holland’s hand rose to your neck, gripping the back of it as he locked you in a passionate kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips for entrance, but the sound of a gate opening made him pull away.

“Mrs. Jenkin’s husband, Mrs. Jenkin’s husband!” He cried out, pointing at the car that was pulling out of the driveway right in front of you.

“Oh, shit!” You exclaimed, pulling yourself away from Holland and quickly grabbing the camera from your lap. You raised it to your eye and managed to snap a few incriminating photos of the man who matched the description of your client’s husband driving away.

You placed the camera back into the floor of the back seat and turned towards Holland with a grin. “Well, let’s go get paid.”

Holland leaned over, gently grabbing your jaw and pulling your lips to meet his. “As soon as the check’s in the bank, I’m taking you on a date.” He promised, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll even buy a new dress.” You spoke softly, nuzzling your nose against his before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

A smirk spread across Holland’s face. “Any chance you won’t be wearing any underwear then, too?”

You scoff and swat at his chest with a laugh. “Holland!” You shout his name in a scolding tone, turning back to face the steering wheel as you turn the keys in the ignition.

“Well, that’s not a no….” He trails off as you start the drive back to your client’s home, eliciting a giggle from you.

#holland march #holland march fic #the nice guys fic #holland march x reader #the nice guys #ryan gosling fic #ryan gosling #myfics #requests #holland march fanfic

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minawritesfanfic · 5 months

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Backyard Boy Part 3

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: School is officially back in session and things are looking great, well we’re looking great. An unexpected reunion at the beginning of class is throwing you for a loop, and it seems you aren’t going to be able to avoid the impending confrontation. But hey pizza with your favorite drummer boy is bound to make you feel better, right..?

Part 3

Previous Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Summer came and went faster than I wanted it to but at least it was fun, I was able to split my time evenly between hanging out with Rodrick and Racrn. Racrn is the silly little acronym I came up with using the first letters of everyone's names: Renatta, Alejandro, Cecily, Reese, and Nolan. Apparently, they liked it too, and it ended up sticking as a nickname for the group. It was just an easier way to refer to the group compared to ‘insert someone's name and them’. Lame and obnoxiously wordy.

School finally started up again, in my senior year. In a sorta new town, new friends, new clothes, and a very new me. I walked into the school like I had months before during the last week of school, this was different though. No longer did tension hang heavy in the air from final exams, instead the air was full of life and excitement as students talked through the hallways buzzing with joy and telling their peers the glories or tragedies of their summer break.

I exhaled with a smile, very happy about the changed atmosphere, and made my way through the sea of people to my locker. It was in one of the main school hallways which thankfully wasn’t too crowded at the moment. I opened it and tucked my backpack neatly inside before pulling out some of the locker decorations I’d bought the week before. I lined the inner part of the door with taped-up pictures, one from hangouts with Racrn, pictures of me and Rodrick, and a few cute stickers. I smiled at the sight of my freshly customized locker then grabbed the stuff I’d need for class before shutting and locking my locker.

I headed towards the stairs hoping to make it to my first period in time when I spotted a certain black-haired dork standing off to the side. He talked animatedly to his friends as he twirled a drumstick idly in his hand, he glanced over at me when he presumably felt me staring. He flashed me a grin and I waved and mouthed a ‘Don’t be late to class’ before walking off. I didn’t manage to catch him rolling his eyes before I disappeared up the stairs though.

My first few classes weren’t that bad, it was a bunch of electives since I opted out of most of the classes I already had enough credits for. Except for math, for some stupid reason, I needed to take it. My old school was apparently weird and because I didn’t finish out the secound semester for math I didn’t get the full credit, why or how that is I have no clue. So I buckled in mentally to take another math class, which of course was pre-calculus and my next class.

I walked into the classroom and it was partially empty as there were still three minutes until the bell rang. I smiled seeing Renatta was in class with me nodding along as a blonde girl spoke to her. I waved as I walked over, she waved back and the blonde girl turned to look at me.

“O m g! If it isn’t little ole California Sunshine themself, what on Earth brings you to this side of the world?” Heather fucking Hills said with that same condescending tone and smile on her pretty face.

I forced a smile while sitting down behind Renatta who looked like a deer in headlights, her mouth agape and all, looking between the two of us. I knew I would have a lot of explaining to do later and I was not at all looking forward to it.

“Nice to see you’re still the Same Heather, never thought I’d see you again.”

‘More like I hoped I’d never see you again.’

“I know, but seriously what are you doing here? Didn’t you totally say you’d never leave California, like ever?” She asked, quaking her head to the side, her face etched with fake curiosity and a hint of unease.

“Yeah that was the plan, but there was a pretty bad earthquake that ended up splitting our home in half. My parents were tired of earthquakes and moved us out here to completely avoid them. What are you doing here? I thought you lived in Oregon?”

“Okay, I’m going to cut you guys off right there. How the hell do you two know each other?!” Renatta asked, flabbergasted as she looked back and forth between us, Heather glanced quickly over at me but I didn’t even have to look at her to know what she was feeling.

“We met on a family vacation, she was in the room next to mine and we just ended up.. hanging out,” I said with a shrug and Heather just looked me up and down before turning away.

“Hanging out is a bit of an overstatement, but whatever.”

Renatta looked ready to ask more questions but as the bell rang, Mr. Lanaski began class giving her no opportunity to. I knew that this would only be a temporary measure though, as I had lunch with the whole Racrcn group next period. I slumped back into my chair and absently listened to the teacher as he gave us a rundown of how his class would be, it was even worse with me receiving knowing looks from both Renatta and Heather. Who I would also probably have to talk too soon, and I had no idea how that conversation would go.

★ ✮ ★

The bell rings and both girls try and drag me away with them out of the class, they cast glares at each other while everyone else is quickly filling out of the classroom. I managed to break free from their grasp but the looks on both their faces told me that I’d regret even trying to leave, I just started to pack my things as they argued about who gets to talk to me first.

“They were my friend before they were yours!” Heather huffs crossing her arms.

“I thought you guys barely even hung out, besides don’t you have a class to go to? We’re headed to lunch.” Renatta snapped back flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh really? That’s perfect, we’re all friends, yeah, so I’ll join you at your lunch table.”

“Oh, absolutely not!-“ Renatta began but I immediately opted out of sitting with Heather AND Racrn at one lunch table, before either of them could react I grabbed my stuff and bolted out of the classroom.

Thankfully the hallway was still crowded so I could blend in and quickly get away, once I felt safe I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I headed to my locker ready to drop off my stuff and spend lunch anywhere but the library when I felt someone blow on the back of my neck and whisper.

“Boo.” I jumped and slammed my locker shut, I turned slowly praying it wasn’t Heather or Renatta but thankfully it was just Rodrick.

“Jeez Rodrick, don't do that! You scared the ever-loving shit outta me!” I said with a heavy sigh and leaned back against my locker while Rodrick stepped back his hands in the air to surrender.

“Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist, anyways where are you headed next?”

“I have lunch right now but I’m definitely not going to that cafeteria, for a number of reasons.”

“Perfect, cuz I was wondering if you would be down to skip the rest of school with me. It’s all just boring ass-“

I didn’t even let him finish trying to convince me, “Yes! I mean yeah, let’s cut school. Nothing important I’m going to miss out on, let’s go.”

He was a bit surprised by how readily I agreed but rolled with it, he led me out of the school to where his van was parked then we peeled out of the parking lot. I let out a relieved sigh as I watched the school grow smaller in the rearview mirror, though I could see Rodrick eyeing me curiously out of the corner of my eye.

“So… what do you want to go and do?”

“You asked me to ditch and didn’t even have a plan to do anything?”

“I didn’t expect to get that far okay! I figured you’d be a stick in the mud and I’d just have to ask Ben to skip with me.” I just laughed and shook my head.

“Fine, since I’m skipping lunch let’s go grab something to eat then we could hang out at my place. How’s that sound?”

“You had me at lunch.” He said with a grin speeding off to the nearest fast food joint.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up splitting a pizza, Rodrick ate on the floor while I sat in a bean bag chair I’d recently gotten. Rodrick talked on and on all, while he ate, I was perfectly content on just half listening and trying to be grossed out that he talked while he ate. I was kind of lost in my own head, trying to figure out what to do. I glanced over at my phone and sat on my bed, I was not looking forward to the dozens of calls I likely already had from Renatta.

“- and then he turned into an alien and kidnapped me… Dude, are you even listening?” Rodrick said and I snapped my gaze down to him, nodding quickly.

“Uh huh yeah, an alien guy kidnapped you- no I’m sorry I wasn’t at all. Just start again from the party I’m listening to now.” He shook his head and sat up, taking another slice of pizza.

“Nah it’s not that important, talk to me. You’ve seemed out of it since we left school, what’s up?” He took a bite out of his pizza and gestured for me to talk, I let out a heavy sigh and sunk deeper into the bean bag chair.

“My entire world kinda just flipped on its axis? I mean it’s not that huge of a deal but maybe I’m minimizing it cuz if I do start thinking it’s that big of a deal I might just die on the spot. But uh so you know how I lived in Cali, right? I was on vacation in a different town there and met this girl, we bonded over some stuff and became really close. Well turns out she goes to our school and is kind of friends with Renatta, both of whom really want to talk to me. And I’m just not ready for it.” I paused letting some of that sink in as I finished the rest of my slice of pizza before going for another one.

“When do you think you’ll be ready to talk to them?”

“I don’t really know to be honest, I don’t even know what to say to either of them. But I can’t talk to one without talking to the other, and I can’t even talk to anyone about what we need to talk about. Which would easily explain how we know each other, just ugh I might just drop out.” I groaned and angrily took a bite out of my pizza as I stared up at my ceiling, Rodrick stayed silent for a moment thinking about what I said.

“Well you have to talk to them eventually, but they’ll both have to accept that that will only happen on your own time. So just like let them know that and take it slow. If they’re even worth your time they’ll understand and wait until you’re ready, especially if it’s important.” He said in between mouthfuls, though his words resonated with me.

He was right, I didn’t have to explain and talk about everything right now. Heather’s cool but she knows how much I have at stake here too and should understand where I’m coming from, and Renatta is still a newish friend and shouldn’t expect me to relay every little detail of my life to her.

“Thanks, Rodrick, that was really helpful. I don’t owe either of them an explanation or my time right now. You really rock dude.” I said with a smile feeling a little bit better.

But then the doorbell rang, again and again and again. I jumped shocked by the incessant ringing, Rodrick looked as surprised as I was and got up. He went into the hallway and peered through the blinds out the window before coming back into the room.

“By any chance.. was that girl you met on vacation Heather Hills?” He asked wide-eyed as he held the door frame, I nodded and stood shakily.

I could tell her that we would talk later, it would be simple enough right? It’s not like we left off on bad terms, we left off on great ones, right? No amount of reassurance seemed to work as I descended the stairs and made my way to the front door, the doorbell still ringing loudly through the house. But the closer I got the more clearly I could hear her yelling, I took a deep breath and opened the door. She was mid-doorbell press and all of Racrn stood behind her, all of them equally confused and loving the drama.

“Uhm Hi…?”

Previous Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

#reader insert #x reader #fluff #minawritesfanfic #my writing #rodrick heffley x reader #drama #doawk rodrick #doawk #fanfic #fanfiction #part 3

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btsficsandsuch · 9 months

Text

No Use In Crying Over Spilled Matcha

You recently moved to Seoul for work. It’s been a lot harder than you imagined, but you might have a change of heart when a kind stranger helps you after a breakdown.

You were overwhelmed to say the least. You were two weeks into your new position at your job and it was so much harder than you thought it would be. Your company had offered you a promotion and a raise along with your moving costs covered. The only catch was that you had to move to Seoul which was on the other side of the world in a country you’d never even been to, where you didn’t know the language and you’d be all alone. You were adventurous and a risk taker so you accepted the offer but you were wishing you had thought it through more. You were having a hard time navigating the city, your new coworkers weren’t exactly the friendliest, and you weren’t learning Korean as fast as you thought you would. You were starting to think that taking this new position was a big mistake.

Today was one of the worst days you’d had yet. It was finally your lunch break. Normally you didn’t like venturing out into the city on your lunch for fear of getting lost but you had just finished getting berated by your boss for something out of your control and you just needed the break. You decided to stop at a convenience store to grab some lunch. You were looking through the snack aisles just grabbing anything that looked okay since you still couldn’t really read any of the wording. When it came to drinks you usually just picked whichever one looked the prettiest and hoped for the best. Sometimes it was a win and sometimes a complete fail. This time going with a bright pink bottle thinking it must be some kind of strawberry drink or something like that.

After paying you walked over to a small seating area just outside of the store. There was an elderly couple sitting together while having some coffee and a table with a few guys about your age who were just hanging out. You sat at the open table all the way back in the corner trying to go unnoticed. You began to eat being pleasantly surprised as the snacks you got weren’t half bad. Due to the extreme heat you couldn’t wait to crack into the ice cold beverage you had purchased. You twisted open the pink bottle and took a big sip. Immediately you spit it out. It wasn’t strawberry flavored or cherry or even watermelon. It was matcha. The one flavor in the world you can’t stand. “Why is a matcha drink in a pink bottle? I thought it was always green.”, you spoke to yourself.

You don’t know if it was the heat or the loneliness or getting yelled at by your boss or a combination of everything but you just started crying. You cried so hard you didn’t notice that one of the guys from the other table came over and sat next to you. He handed you some napkins, “Hey now, there’s no use in crying over spilled matcha…or something like that.” Even though he spoke broken English you were happy to even be able to understand him. You looked up and saw the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He was staring at you with a kind smile. He began using one of the napkins to wipe up the table, “I’m sorry that something has you so upset. Is there anything I can do to help?”

You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I’m just having a really hard time lately and I really hate matcha so that was the last straw for me.” The man started laughing, “Maybe don’t buy anything matcha flavored then.” You nodded with a laugh, “Yeah I should probably learn how to read the language.” The two of you sat and conversed for a while until you announced you had to get back to work. Before you could leave he stopped you,” I just remembered we never exchanged names. My name is Jin.” You smiled at him, “My name is Y/N.”

He smiled at you again, “That’s a very pretty name Y/N. If you’d like I could help you work on your Korean some time. Maybe you could help me with my English.” You nodded, “Yeah I’d like that.” You wrote down your number and made your way back to work. Once at your desk you went to make sure your phone was on silent when you saw a new message,

“Y/N this is Jin. Would you want to go on a date with me this Saturday at noon? There’s a really nice cafe about 2 miles from where we met earlier. I promise I’m make sure your drink is 100% matcha free.” You quickly added his number to your contacts and replied, “I’d really like that.”

You felt your heart flutter at the thought of him. Maybe you could get used to living here after all.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts jin #jin #jin x reader #jin imagine

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 2 months

Text

Finding Comfort in Trust

Summary - Part 55 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess, Sam x Eileen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys, Late again and no chapter last week…Sorry. Been a bit going on, but I’m trying to get back into the swing of things. I hope you enjoy this week’s chapter anyway. I love you guys.

You park in the Bunker’s garage and shut off the engine. You look over your shoulder at Dean and Destiny and smile.

“You okay?” you mouth to your husband. He nods. “Take her to our room. I’ll chat to Sam and then give Bobby a call.”

You get out and then open the back door for Dean. He carefully gets out, trying his best not to disturb the little girl drifting off in his arms. You peck his cheek and hers as he passes you. You close and lock the car and garage before following him out into the Bunker. You watch Dean disappear into your shared room as you turn to go into the library. Sam’s eyes widen as he sees you standing in the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest.

He looks between you and the lady sitting across from him, who you assume must be Eileen, before finally gesturing for you to come in. “Eileen, this is my brother’s wife, Y/N,” he says being careful to enunciate every word for her to read his lips fully.

You smile and nod at her. “Nice to meet you. I’m so sorry, I promised I wouldn’t disturb your night, but I need to steal Sam away for just a second.”

Sam shakes his head without moving to stand up. “What’s going on?”

You smile at Eileen as she bows her head and focuses on the book in front of her. “We think there may be other hunters in town. I’m not sure what they’re hunting if they are, but we may have accidentally put a target on Destiny. She made a friend at the park, but I think she may have been a hunter’s daughter. Which seemed great at first, until we remembered that to many our little girl is a monster.”

“Did she tell you her parents are hunters?”

“Not exactly. It’s just a gut feeling Dean has. She said they travel a lot because of her parents’ work and are often left home alone. Would you have been able to sniff out a werewolf at five or six?”

“I was eight when Dean finally told me the truth about our lives. So, not at six. But Dean’s life was different, I think he might’ve. So it depends what this girl’s life is like.”

“She said she has an older sister. So, we’re, I’m hoping she’s more like you. Innocent and oblivious for now. I love Destiny, Sam. I promised I’d keep her safe. And Dean and I bought a house. We’re getting out. But…”

“Bobby knows way more hunters than we do, especially the family types.”

“Yeah, he’s my next call.”

“Where’s Dean? He’s not out hunting hunters is he?”

“No, he’s got a more important job right now. He’s confined to the bedroom, 'cause I know he’ll go all papa bear out there if I let him. But I just need to be sure first. I think we’ve managed to keep it all pretty quiet so far but if gets out there that we’re protecting a werewolf…”

Out of instinct, Eileen looks up briefly just catching the last word on your lips. “Werewolf? Where?” she asks.

You look at Sam pleadingly.

“You trust me? I want to let you in on this, but I have to know I can trust you and you’ll trust me. This isn’t a hunt.”

“What’s going on, Sam?” She asks.

He looks up at you for permission. You look at Eileen sceptically and shake your head.

Sam nods and then looks at Eileen and reaches across the table for her hand. “I’m sorry, Eileen. This is a family issue.”

“I understand.”

You look at Eileen and sigh. “You’re like us, right? You don’t have any family left? But if you did you would protect them with everything you have, right?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“Dean and I, our daughter is a werewolf.”

“She got turned? I’m so sorry.”

You decide not to correct her yet. “She’s still our daughter and we have to protect her. She’s not a monster. She’s raised on animal hearts from the butcher. In every other way, she’s a normal little girl. She’s our little girl and we have to protect her. I’m trusting you to keep this to yourself. This information doesn’t leave the Bunker. But if you know of any other hunters in town right now who may be trying to hunt her I need you to tell me.”

“I hunt alone. Or I did before I met Sam. I’m sorry, I don’t know. I didn’t know there was anything to hunt here.”

“Thanks. I hope Dean’s wrong and we’re panicking for nothing. Can you guys please just check and keep me posted?”

Sam and Eileen both nod. “Of course.”

You nod. “I’m gonna call Bobby.”

You walk into the kitchen and pull out your phone as you lean against the cold metal counter. You dial Bobby’s number and hold your phone up to your ear as you listen to the dial tones.

“Hey Kiddo, what’s going on?”

“Do you know of any hunters in Lebanon?”

“Besides you guys?”

“Obviously.”

“Everyone hunter worth their salt knows the Winchesters own Lebanon. They wouldn’t dare take on a hunt there unless they had a death wish. You obviously think there are other hunters there though.”

“Dean does. He’s got me paranoid.”

“How did I get from transferring half my savings across for you to buy a house to searching for other hunters in your area?”

“It all started the same…Protecting your granddaughter.”

“Y/N…Alright. I’ll make some calls.”

“Be subtle. If she doesn’t have a target on her already, don’t you dare go lining up the crosshairs.”

“Have a little faith, would you? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

After hanging up you make two PB&Js and take them along with a glass of water into your bedroom. You find Dean flicking through the channels with Destiny snuggled into his side fast asleep. You smile and he mutes the TV. You take a seat on the bed beside them.

“So?”

“Eileen seems nice. I had a chat with her and Sam about it. They said they’ll do some research and Bobby said he’ll look into it. But so far, I think we might be wrong and overreacting.”

“I hope so.”

“You were brought up a hunter…would you have known at her age?”

“Probably not. It was too brief. Even I wasn’t that good at that age.”

“Sam said the same thing. Even I was older when I started hunting, but the signs aren’t obvious and she hides it well.”

“Yeah…But I still think we hold off on moving out for a little while. Just until we’re sure.”

“Yep…”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I should’ve…”

“Don’t go there. None of this is your fault. You were finally getting wrapped up in being a dad. You never have to apologise for loving that little girl and being happy. That’s exactly what I want.”

He gives you a small lopsided smile and nods, showing he accepts your words but is still blaming himself, but before you can say anything else he changes the subject. “That dinner?” he asks nodding at the plate on your lap.

“Yeah, sorry it’s not much. I don’t have much of an appetite and I didn’t feel like cooking.”

“You make it?” he asks and you nod. “Then it’s perfect.” He gently lifts Destiny so she’s lying flat on the bed between you and then sits up. You hand him one of the sandwiches.

Before you take a bite you watch him and smile softly. “I love you, Dean.”

He lifts an eyebrow at you, but once he finishes chewing he says, “I love you too.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory, @mrlonelycat, @roseblue373, @staley83

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

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heyidkyay · 10 months

Text

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Twenty-Four - Part B

A/n: Hey, Part B is finally here!! It was a struggle to write but I'm so grateful to know that a lot of you were looking forward to it! Means so much. Again, like the previous part, this will be a collection of flashbacks! Please read the warnings on this one! Hope you enjoy x

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Lots of swearing as per usual, talks and acts of violence, abuse and sexual assault mentioned, description of sick/blood

Masterlist

“London?”

I nodded, eyes fixed firmly on the hands I held in my lap.

“London?!” Matty exclaimed again, only louder this time. He’d stopped pacing to stare down at me. The rest of the boys who had gathered on the sofa were all strangely quiet.

“Yeah, Matty. London.”

“The fuck she want to send you there for?” He argued back, and although I knew his anger wasn’t directed towards me, rather the situation at hand, I still couldn’t quite look him in the eye.

Things at home had gotten… worse. Not that I’d ever let them know. And although I didn’t want to leave the lads for the summer, I didn’t think I could handle staying there another second longer.

“My nan’s down there. Reckons it’ll be good for me, to get away.” I told him in reply, unable to help the small shrug I gave before I begun biting at a loose thumbnail, “It’ll only be for a week or so.”

“But, but what about the EP? And our gigs!” Matty fought back and, honestly, I was all too thankful for the moment when I heard Hann intercept the start of what would only be another long spiel.

“It’s not like she can really tell her mum no, mate. Besides, it’s like she said, it won’t be for long. We’ll still have the rest of the summer.”

Hann looked around at the rest of the boys, hoping to see their nods. He sighed when Matty only continued on, as though he hadn’t even said a word.

“You can stay here! Lou’ll be in Spain with Dad, Mum’s still filming so she won’t even notice- not that she’d mind.” Matty started to plan, glancing towards the rest of the room for some sort of approval. “It’s a good idea, ain’t it? That way, we can all still be together.”

I exhaled, not quite a sigh, “And what do I tell my mum, when my nan phones her up and asks why I’m not there?”

Matty groaned in agitation. “Tell her to piss off! And that you’re spending the summer with your mates.”

I wish it was as easy as that.

“Matt.” Ross cut in with a certain gruffness that made Matty pause. Ross turned towards me afterwards but I couldn’t force myself to look back at him, eyes trained somewhere to the left of his head.

Ross wasn’t stupid, I knew that much. In fact, none of the boys were. But Ross was also obnoxiously observant, more so than most, and I knew that during the last few months he’d been taking notice of more things than not. He was catching on. Brushing off my excuses. Listening to the lies I weaved into truths and narrowing his eyes. He knew something was up.

“B,” He called to me- short for George’s nickname I supposed, but he hardly ever used it. My eyes skitted between his own, then away again in fear he’d be able to see it all written as plain as day across my face. “Listen, if you wanna go down to London, then go. Ignore this twat-“ Matty squawked indignantly. “The band stuff, the gigs, they’ll all still be here when you get back.” The ‘we’ll still be here’ went unsaid, but it was heard. “Only a few weeks, just like you said. If your mum wants you down there, must be a reason, ey?”

I wiggled my jaw. If only it was that simple, I thought, but simply shrugged again. “‘Spose.”

“What, so you actually wanna go?” Matty cut in, looking almost betrayed, always one for the dramatics. “Just leave us here, when everything’s finally fallin’ into place?”

I frowned at him, “No, I don’t wanna go. But-” I don’t want to stay in that house any longer.

“Exactly! Just tell her that then, babe!” Matty rushed out before I could even think of an end to that sentence, “She’ll understand, let you stay, and then we can have the entire summer, yeah?”

He was grinning so wide, it was hard to do anything but just nod in defeat. Ross and Hann shook their heads at him as they huffed and drew themselves up onto their feet.

“Alright, can we get to startin’ practice now then or is this family meeting still happening?” Hann not so subtly suggested, quirking a brow at the lot of us. I was just grateful for the opportunity to cut my loses and run, Ross was already moving over towards the amp, and Matty was nodding his hasty agreement.

“Gonna grab some drinks first though.” The curly haired singer added, and he darted out of the garage before Hann could stop him. I chuckled under my breath at Adam’s pained expression and settled further into the settee, making myself comfortable there. It was then that I caught George’s eye though and he jerked his head over towards the driveway, a quiet indication.

I chewed on the inside of my lip before I ultimately nodded, holding back a sigh. He got up first and then I followed, ignoring Hann’s exasperated huff and the lingering look I felt from Ross.

I thought that’d been it, the London topic dropped. But luck was never on my side and even though I had no idea what George would possibly have to say on the subject, I could see that he’d been far too quiet in there. Something was coming.

He wandered a way away from the garage door, slipping round the side of the house and towards the garden gate before he finally stopped, pausing to settle against the low brick wall there. It was a place we often favoured whenever we wanted a breath away from the others, sheltered by overhanging trees and bushes, you could sort of feel invisible there.

George was quiet even as he tugged an already opened pack from his jean pocket and plucked a cigarette from its case. On impulse I pulled out my lighter and flicked it open for him, lighting the end like I usually did.

“How’s Steven doing?” He asked rather abruptly, so much so that a wad of spit caught in the back of my throat at the question and I had to fight not to choke.

“Why the fuck are you asking me that?” I retorted, swallowing harshly and catching my breath.

He didn’t look at me, eyes hard and focused on the opposing wall. He shrugged a shoulder lazily, but I knew better. “You never mentioned London.”

“And what the hell has my mum’s dick of a boyfriend got to do with London?” I sputtered back heatedly, already knowing the answer.

George levelled me with a look and inhaled slowly, gaze finding mine.

“You know what.”

I scowled and folded my arms promptly across my chest. “Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes at my reaction and billowed out a breath of smoke above us, handing me the fag in quiet offering. I shook my head. He sighed.

“I thought-”

He tried, but I quickly shut him down, “Fuck what you thought, you don’t know a thing.”

George held a single hand up in mock surrender, ash falling with it. I steeled my gaze on the thick cement tiles below us.

“Not claiming to, Birdie.” George said in his usual tone, unaware of what that nickname of his did to me. “But I know something’s up. Reckon the guys are noticing things too.”

I rubbed the curve of my arm subconsciously, knowing there was truth in his words.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked exhaustedly, all the fight I typically had had been drained from me.

The question had been mostly rhetorical, but George wasn’t the type to care. “The truth.” He answered and I could feel his stare trained on me now.

“The truth?” I scoffed tiredly, the bitten flesh of cheek I so often ground between my teeth was scarred, bumpy as I pressed my tongue to it and thought the whole thing over.

‘Truth’ was something we’d taken to using for a while now, in the buzzing hum of our frequented cafe, within the confines of the shed at the end of my garden, sprawled on his bedsheets whilst getting high. It’d started after a small falling out I’d had with Vicky a few months prior and had continued on almost unconsciously.

Now though, I didn’t know what to tell him, what truth to acknowledge. What he wanted to hear.

George mimicked the low hum I made, cigarette pressed between his lips but otherwise unmoving. “Who’s idea was London then?”

“His.”

We both knew who I was talking about.

“Right.” George nodded once, “She just agreed then?”

She, being my mum. I dipped my chin, a silent confirmation.

His thumb was tapping away at the jut of his knee now, a rhythmic tic I often stilled with a hand covering his own. I couldn’t find it in myself to reach out and touch him now though.

“Why’s he want you gone?”

In truth, I really didn’t know. Maybe I’d gotten too much. Perhaps he’d gotten fed up.

“Think he has better things in mind than having me hang ‘round all summer.”

“You want to go?”

I let his question hang there for a moment. I was toeing two sides of the line with my answer. To go would be easier on everyone, I’d see my Nana, get to explore a whole other city, and have the chance to escape them. But being away also meant leaving the boys.

George didn’t mind not hearing my verbal reply, I think he already knew my answer. He just wanted to be sure of it. He went on, “My mum’s back in town next week.”

A truth for a truth.

“You never mentioned it.” I said, picking at a fraying edge on my denim shorts.

He gave a slow shrug, “You never mentioned London.”

“Only found out a couple days ago.” He raised a brow in return, thinning his lips. I sighed, “Alright, I should’ve said something sooner but I was thinking it over.”

George hummed, “Dad only told me this mornin’.”

Maybe that’s why he’d been so reserved since we’d met up. The whole way to Matty’s he’d barely spoken a word, but I’d been overly anxious, knowing I was planning to tell them about London, which meant that I’d been talking a mile a minute- an attempt I often used to cover it.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked him, peering up at his solemn features through a lock of fallen hair.

“What I always do. Stay out of her way.” He told me honestly before he took a longer drag. I watched his chest rise with it, observed how his eyes fluttered slightly. He was always so interesting to watch.

“Could come to London with me. Hide out there.” I offered and was met with the slight quirk to his mouth, he was amused by my words. “I’m serious!” I reiterated and bumped a shoulder against his arm, “Me and you. Together. Nana loves strays.”

George just laughed at that and I couldn’t help the soft smile I made at the sound. “Sod off.” He told me around a chuckle, “London does sound nice though, be good for you I reckon.”

“For us.” I insisted, the idea fully lodging its way into my brain now. “Come on, G. Don’t you think it’d be fun?”

“Yeah sure, but the wrath Matty would rain down on us fucking won’t be.” George snorted, shaking his head at me softly.

“So?” I pestered again, shuffling round on the wall to face him properly, shin pressing against his outer thigh. He glanced down at it and then away, inhaling again. “I can phone her when I get in,”

“Phone who?” George interrupted just as my fingers found the flannel he’d thrown on that same morning. I toyed with it, rolling my eyes.

“My Nana! Keep up.” I huffed at him, “I’ll phone her, ask if she’d be okay with you coming along too and you can just tell the guys you’re being held hostage by your mum, she wants family time, forcing you to go and see an aunt or summat.”

George was wearing this barely there smirk, one I recognised as a crack in his usual stoic resolve. I was wearing him down.

“Think about it, G… You can avoid your mum and waste half your summer away with me.”

I raised my brows at him, hopeful, but he just stared back at me.

“And what would I tell my dad, my mum?” He retorted, finally stubbing out the end of his cigarette and flicking the butt of it into the soil behind us.

“Tell your dad we’re going camping. All of us. And we can leave before your mum gets in.” I explained, in full out planning mode now. I could see it all coming together in my head and tugged on the cuff of his sleeve in excitement. “Come on, G. Please? Be our little secret.”

George’s gaze trailed over my face, his expression as serious as my own. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

I tilted my head, confused by his sentiment. “Of course I do. If I could, I’d take you everywhere with me. It’s us against the world, G. Always.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles, an action I knew he had no control over, and it only seemed to grow as I matched it. I had him.

“So we’re really doing this then?” He breathed out in amused disbelief. I nodded with a painfully large grin as I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning in closer.

“Best believe it.” I replied just as he knocked his forehead against mine. Both of us unable to bite back our smiles.

“London.” George whispered.

“London.” I mimicked, marvelling at the very idea of it.

To think, I’d been dreading this entire conversation. How things so quickly changed.

And change they would…

—

“Yeah, yeah!” I prattled away, hardly holding back my anticipation.

I’d been back barely five minutes before I’d hurried over to the landline, having snuck in through the back gate and shuffled up the drainpipe to my bedroom. I’d waited until I heard the front door slam then made a run for it, scurrying down the stairs and almost throwing the phone off its hook in my hurry. I had half hour until mum was due back from wherever she usually pissed off to, and didn’t have to worry about Old Steven seeing me as he’d just left for the pub.

“‘Course I’m excited, Nana. Haven’t seen you in ages!” I told the older woman, warmly, through the phone, twirling the chord around my finger as I did.

She was rambling away now, had been ever since I’d said hello. She’d been gruff in her answer at first, having thought I was one of those poxy telemarketers she could often never shake, but was over the moon to know it’d been me once she’d heard my voice.

Apparently she was rather excited to know that I was coming down to visit, though she hadn’t heard a word of it until I’d brought it up then- fucking mum. Still, she told me she’d set up the spare room and let my aunt know too, she sounded just as pleased as me. It was then that I thought it best to try and bring up George.

“Aunt Del will be so pleased to see you, love. Have to cook up something proper for when you arrive too, won’t I?”

I smiled fondly at her voice, her heavy accent so different to mine. “Don’t have to go to too much trouble for me, nan.”

“Oh bugger off, you daft cow! My granddaughter’s comin’ to see me, I’ll do as I please.” Nana scoffed and I bit back a giggle.

“Alright.” I appeased her, then she asked what day I’d be heading off. I thought it over for a second, knowing that G’s mum was due back Sunday night, so that morning probably gave us enough time to set off and make the train. “Sunday, Nana.” I replied and she hummed, but before she could say anything in actual reply I was quick to mention the deal-breaker. “Actually Nana, whilst I still have you, I um, I was meant to ask you something. Just, I don’t want to put you out or nothing…”

“Sweet, you’d best spit whatever ask you have out ‘fore you swallow your own tongue. I ain’t gettin’ any younger and the days ain’t gettin’ any longer. So out with it.” She demanded. She was just as I remembered, headstrong to a fault and overly blunt. The woman said what she pleased and if you didn’t like that then you’d simply have to deal with it, nowt to do with her.

I huffed a mirthful chuckle, “Sorry.”

“None of that now, sunshine. Tell me what you’re after.”

“See, I have this friend…”

“Oh, a friend, is it? Let me guess, this friend of yours, they headed down my way too?” She never missed a thing that woman, I’ll give her that.

“Might be.”

Nana laughed and I could hear her shuffling about, probably in the kitchen from the sound of pots clinking in the background. “Just like your father, I tell you. Cheek on the pair of ya.”

My heart caught at her words, no one spoke of my dad. To hear that I was similar to him in any way, well that paused my whirling mind for a split second.

Though to my Nana, it had just been an off handed comment, a slip of the tongue, because she was already breezing on by whilst I fought to catch up.

“Tell me about this friend of yours then. They nice? Treat you well?” Nana pestered, last she knew of my life here up North was my closeness with Vicky and my lingering eyes which were often casted towards her older brother, Jamie. How things had changed.

I smiled at the questions and thought of George. He was a hard person to describe in truth. There wasn’t a thing I disliked about him. There were things that annoyed me about him, sure- he was one of few people who knew exactly what buttons to press- but describing George, well it sort of felt like describing myself. That, plus, I didn’t want to give too much away.

“He’s nice, Nana.”

She hummed and I heard the sweet drawl to it, as though she was grasping at something. The sound made me flush a tad. “He’s nice, is he?”

Put my foot right in it there. Could’ve tried getting away with it by being vague, have her think it was a girl ’til George’s ginormous self gangled his way through her door, but nope.

“Yup.” I popped back, too far gone to backtrack now.

My feelings towards George were honestly a confusing mountain of mess, but they had yet to make me force him away. Hearing my nan allude to something of the like did not help at all.

“Hm, and he’s wantin’ to follow after you, is he? Down ‘ere to see little old me.”

I shook my head even though she couldn’t see. “It were my idea. I-”

She stopped me short, “No need to explain, dove. He sounds like a very nice friend, this boy. One you’d like to keep near I assume?” I hummed noncommittally and could hear her devious smile, “Handsome is he?”

“Nana.” I droned out, regretting ever having even mentioned it now. Should’ve just surprised her, at least then she wouldn’t be teasing me like this. Actually, scrap that. That was a complete lie. She so fucking would.

“‘Course he can come along, love.” She allowed, relenting with her teasing a tad, or so I thought. “Just got the one spare room though, so if you don’t mind putting up with him for a couple nights… or I ‘spose I could just make up the sofa.”

“Whatever’s easiest for you, Nana. And thank you. I,” I inhaled slowly, the sound sharp in the quiet of the house, “I really do appreciate it, you putting me up and that.”

“Nonsense. Always worryin’ ‘bout you up there, that mother of yours never phones.” Nana tutted. If she only knew that half of it, I thought to myself. “But anyway darlin’, there’s nothin’ to thank me for, only way you could is with a pack of Rothmans Blue- Superking, mind.”

I snorted to myself, “Consider it done. Sunday paper, too?”

“Oh, you know me so well. Daily mail, none of that other shite.”

I mouthed the last few words as she spoke them, knowing that they’d be coming, and grinned when I was right.

“‘Course not.” I said with a smile, “If you need anything else picking up, call this time Saturday, yeah?”

“You got a schedule or somethin’ there, lovie?” Nana joked, laughing lightly even as my own smile faltered slightly.

“Something like that.” I murmured, then thought I heard the key turn in the front door.

My head snapped towards the sound, sheltering the phone against my shoulder to listen in closer.

Yeah, someone was definitely home.

Wary, I hurried to say my goodbyes, “Listen Nana, think that’s mum headed in now with the shopping. I’d best go and help her.”

“Shoppin’? This late?” Nana questioned but I was already standing, bouncing from foot to foot, praying to every star in the night sky that it was mum and not Steven.

“Yeah, she had a late shift tonight. Is that alright, Nana? I’ll call before I leave Sunday, okay?”

I was fretting now, heart racing as the door hinges begun to squeak.

“‘Course it is, love. Say hello to your mum too, won’t ya, sweetheart? And I’ll see you Sunday.”

“I will, love you.” I rushed out and was left with the beginnings of a smile when I heard her parrot it back to me. I hung up just as the front door slammed closed and jumped towards the kitchen sink like a trapeze artist would a free-falling rope. More than grateful to see that there were a few cups littering the basin.

I was washing up just as she walked in, I heard her paused in the archway, probably surprised to see me down here.

“What you doin’ that for?” She asked me and I glanced over my shoulder, holding back a shaky breath whilst I flashed her smile.

“Just thought I’d be helpful, mum.” I replied and turned back to the task at hand to subtly release the balloon of air that’d been swelling in my chest.

She hummed indifferently and tossed her purse down onto the kitchen table, “Steve in?”

I shook my head, “Wasn’t here when I got back.” Liar.

“Right.” She worked her jaw, staring off into space before she headed over towards the fridge, plucking up a cider. “Gonna run a bath, back’s been killin’ me. You alright to make your own tea?”

I swallowed back the hollow laugh that wanted to escape me, I always fixed my own tea. Did everything myself. “Yeah, mum.” I told her instead of voicing that though, choosing not to glance her way again.

“Right.” She repeated and then I heard nothing for a few beats before her feet were wandering out of the kitchen again and up the stairs.

I let myself slump against the counter as I listened to her disappear, hands covered in soap duds and not caring for the water that dripped its way down my forearm. I let my eyes fall close for a brief minute. That’d been too close for my liking.

—

I told George of the talk I’d had with my nan, along with the plan, the next day. We’d leave about nine, Sunday morning, to try and make it to London before the rush of lunch, and my Aunt Del would then pick us up from the station soon after.

We’d been sat on the school playing fields, waiting for the rest of the guys. Just lazing about there, seeing as we only had a couple days before school finally let out. Days like these were always the best kind though, when the teachers gave up on teaching us anything and just stuck a film on. Hoping it’d quiet our ever growing excitement. Did it fuck.

“I didn’t think you were being serious!” George exclaimed with a light laugh once I’d finally finished, eyes wide as he glanced down at me. I was sprawled out on the grass, head in his lap.

“Of course I fucking was! Do you not know me at all?” I replied in the same tone he’d used, titling my head back to exaggerate my own eyes. “We said it! We agreed!”

“So? I said I’d pull the plug on Matty’s life support machine if he ever ended up braindead, don’t mean I’ll actually do it.” George snorted right back, hands toying with the ends of my hair.

“Well, he’s not far off, is he?” I teased, even though Matty wasn’t around to hear. “And besides, I’m not Matty. I’m me. And you,” I exaggerated, pointing a finger up at him, “can’t say no to a face like this.”

“When d’you get so vain, ey?” Was all that George replied. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“Please, G. Nana’s excited to meet you now. Can’t let her down, can you? Imagine what it’ll do to her poor old heart.”

He dragged a thumb across my lip, wiping the pout I wore right off my face. The surprising action didn’t deter me though, neither did the sickening butterflies I felt.

“Heartless heathen. Just watch this space,” I told him in false seriousness, “See when I turn up all alone and she’s devastated. So utterly heartbroken.”

“Oh shut up, would you?” George huffed, tugging on a strand of my hair and rolling his eyes at my scowl. “I’ll go.” My face quickly morphed and I knew he saw it when he leant in closer to cut off whatever I’d been about to say, our noses a breath apart. “But, only if you help me break it to the boys- my dad as well.”

I mulled it over, “I could do that.”

“You say that now.” He chuckled down at me, brown eyes dancing between my own before he pulled away and glanced over to see the boys headed our way.

To say that the rest of the band had taken the news of George’s departure easily was an utter lie. As expected, Matty had gone off on one, all grumpy and disheartened. Hann had sighed, but said that they could put off any recording sessions for a week or so. And Ross had just sat there grinning lazily at us like a overweight cat stretched out in the sun, unbothered by it but also looking a little too smug for my liking.

I’d narrowed my eyes at him but said nothing.

George’s dad on the other hand was a whole other story.

I’d only met the man twice. Once when he’d caught me up in George’s bedroom, splayed out on the floor after having fallen out of a handstand his son had dared me into. Then a second time in the supermarket on the high street, I’d been grabbing food for the house seeing as no one else could be bothered, and he’d been on the phone to someone or other, heatedly whispering away. We’d caught each others eye, gave a strange awkward wave, then sped off down separate aisles.

I’d been mortified both times. Not the best impression to have left on anyone, let alone your mate’s dad.

Still, I’d agreed to help and so now here I was. Sat in George’s kitchen, him at the stove, me perched by the table, both of us waiting for his dad to come home from work.

I was biting at my knuckle nervously, eyes trained on the door, George swatted my arm when he finally noticed, passing by me to pull a pack of pasta from out of the cupboard. “Why’re you so worked up? He’s harmless, plus you’ve met him before.”

Harmless, that’s how Matty often described George. I wondered if the two of them were much alike. Like my dad and I.

“I’m not.” I defended, but was levelled with a look telling me to cut the bullshit. “Fine, I just- I don’t know! Okay? Will you just run me through the story again?”

George chuckled to himself, pouring pasta shells into some salted water. “I’ll start, hint that a few of us are wanting to go camping. He won’t ask who, but if he does just say the lads. Like Hann and that- don’t mention Matty though, they’ve met.”

“He doesn’t like Matty?” I questioned with a pinched brow.

George’s shoulders moved with an unsure shrug, his back to me as he checked on the sauce he was making. I found it strange how I never knew he could cook til now. Or at least I hoped he could, I was supposed to be eating this.

“Nah, not that he doesn’t like him. Just thinks he’s a bit…” He replied, searching for the right word.

“Over the top? Eccentric? Loud?”

With a snort, George nodded. “Yeah. So, just be wary.”

I hummed, fiddling with the coasters that sat nearby. George’s house was nice, looked hardly lived in but it was tidy and inviting. Nothing as extravagant as Matty’s, but not quite like mine either. His family did well for themselves, you could see it.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I was just pulling your leg earlier.” He told me after a minute or two had passed in quiet.

I shook my head. “I said I would, didn’t I? Don’t go back on my word.” I ridiculed, giving him a knowing look as I thought back to his first agreement over the trip to London. George just rolled his eyes at me and turned back towards the stove again.

Besides, I thought to myself, I was here now. Might as well.

The telltale sign of a car pulling up onto the drive sounded then and my eyes widened on their own accord. “Oh shit.”

I was regretting everything now. I had no idea how to act, or what to say. I wanted to crawl under the table and hide until it was safe to come out again. My mind screaming at me to just make a run for it before I fucked the entire thing up.

I was sat staring a hole into the kitchen door, just waiting anxiously, when George carded a hand through my hair. I hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Don’t stress.”

I glanced up towards him, then blew a heavy breath out of my nose, letting my forehead fall against his stomach.

“How can you say that? I’m freaking out, G.” My words were muffled by his t-shirt and so I felt it when he gave a muted chuckle in return. Strangely, the movement soothed me, but the gentle hand he held to the back of my head helped too.

“You’ll be fine, B.” He murmured out into the kitchen and I pulled away when I heard the front door rattle. “Besides, when have I ever let you down?”

I released a shallow breath and then plastered on a more convincing smile. I caught George’s hand in mine just before he went back to watching the boiling pot and squeezed the digits, he returned the gesture kindly. I was thankful to have him, I realised in that moment, the easy way we worked only just hitting me then.

George was back by the stove when the kitchen handle turned and we both glanced over in the direction of the door to watch his dad walk on through it. The man was tall, that was the first thing I noticed, he had to duck his head to wander through the frame so that he wouldn’t hit it, and he also looked a lot like George. They shared the same eyes.

“Oh.” The older man paused when he spotted me at the table, slowing his movements ever so slightly to process it. It seemed that syllabic reactions were also something that the pair shared too.

“Hi, Mr Daniel. Hope me being here isn’t too much of a bother.” I greeted him, trying for polite, my voice was quieter than I expected though and I noted the way George’s furrowed brow turned towards me when he heard it too.

George’s dad stepped further into the kitchen, placing a carrier bag down on the kitchen counter before he walked over to drop his briefcase onto a wooden chair.

“Not a bother.” His accent was peculiar, it held a hint of, what I could only assume to be, Dutch, that was overpowered slightly by his low speech. “And I’m Jules, no need for formalities. You must be Y/n.”

I nodded and gave a smile when he quirked one of his own, however tiny. “I am, it’s nice to properly meet you.” I told him as he propped himself into the seat sat opposite me.

“Yes, I agree. Though I have heard a lot about you, George has spoken of you before.” Jules informed, analysing eyes flitting over to where his son was stood, pretending to be absorbed in his cooking, before they settled back on me, “He speaks highly of you.”

A genuine smile broke out across my face then and, unable to stop it, I glanced down to my lap in hopes to hide it.

“That’s kind of him.” I laughed softly and was pleased when George’s dad chuckled along with me, it was a resonant sound one that came from deep within.

“My son’s a good boy. A kind one. I hope he’ll turn into a good man also.”

The look he casted George was sweet, one I couldn’t relate to but adored all the same. This man held his son in high regard, he loved him.

George decided to grace us with a bit of input then. “Are we done talking about me now?” He quipped, looking a bit self-conscious which was new. “Just waiting for him to start telling you my most embarrassing moments or pull out the baby photos.”

I flashed his dad a hopeful grin, “I’d love that.”

Jules just laughed and glanced towards his son. “I like this girl. Where did you find her?”

George shook his head in retort, rolling his eyes but not hiding his fond smile. “She found me.”

The two of us shared a look then and laughed- he had a point.

“Oh?” Jules said, questioning gaze jumping between the both of us now.

“I heard him play. At school.” I acquiesced the older man’s wondering and instinctively he knew I was talking about drumming. “He was hiding away in the music room when I’d been walking past, decided to poke my head in.”

“Ambushed me, more like.” George scoffed, a tea towel slung over his shoulder, looking every bit like the chef he was feigning to be.

“I did not!” I gasped.

George laughed loudly, I was marvelled by the sound but I didn’t let it put me off upholding my honour.

“You did.” He affirmed, “Gave me an address on a piece of paper like some slick gangster and told me to be there.”

“I- it was-” I tried to find the right response but he had me there- although, slick gangster was quite the compliment if I was being honest. “I was just trying to be helpful! Besides, you hardly said a word to me. I thought you hated me at first!”

George quirked a brow, as though this was a surprise to him, maybe it was.

Jules cut in, his question held a hint of mirth, “An address?”

George glanced towards his dad and nodded once more, “For the band. That’s how I joined.”

“Ah.” George’s dad sounded, “Are you in this band too?” He asked me.

George snickered and I tried not to glare at him as I answered Jules. “No, just the boys. I keep them all in order though.”

“The world would crumble without a woman in charge. Count yourselves lucky.” Jules sent a grin towards his son, it was toothy and I noted that the fine lines around both his eyes and mouth resembled those I’d seen on George. His familiar eyes found mine next, “Do you play though?”

I shook my head, if only. “I can play a few chords on the piano but I’m no Chopin.” Adam’s doing, that.

“Sing?” Jules questioned and I found myself wringing my hands beneath the tabletop.

“A little. Not in front of people though.” I told him honestly, not paying mind to the pause George made or the way his expression deepened. “It’s something of my own.”

Jules looked to me then, really looked at me I mean, and dipped his head in an earnest understanding. “Some things are meant for the heart, these are the things that keep us grounded.”

I nodded too, thankful that he could relate in some way, and the kitchen settled into a peaceful lull for once. No nervous energy to be found. George turned his back on us to drain the pasta and stir a pot.

After a few muted minutes filled with George just puttering about, he padded his way over and placed two plates before his dad and I. We thanked him and he returned with one of his own as well as a bowl of grated cheese. He and his dad tucked right in, loading up on the mountain of parmesan, I however passed.

George cleared his throat once we’d all settled in, his foot finding my ankle beneath the table. I peered over to him but he was still staring down at his dinner. “I forgot to mention, dad. There’s this trip coming up.”

“At school?” Jules asked him, not noticing George’s awkward stance, the way his shoulders were hunched over his plate. I nudged my knee against his encouragingly.

“No, um just a group of us. To celebrate the end of the year.” He replied, having paused in his eating now to watch his dad’s reaction, who was still chewing happily away. “Camping.”

That did catch the man’s attention. “Camping?” He mimicked, one brow raising as he looked to George. “Where?”

“Down by the coast. Margate way.” Wow, he’d really thought this through.

His dad hummed around his next mouthful, then turned to me. I tried not to falter under his attention and the sudden pressure I felt. “Are you going, Y/n?”

I swallowed.

“I am. It’s a big group of us. Seven or so.” I replied. In truth, there was an actual trip happening with some of the kids in our year- Vicky was actually going. They were all headed to some festival, a few of them camping out there, others staying in hotels nearby or with mates. When Matty had first heard about it he’d wanted to tag along, but then he’d saw the lineup and thought better of it.

“And your parents don’t mind?” Jules prodded, ignoring the sharp look George sent him.

“My mum is looking forward to the peace.” I joked with a soft chuckle, aiming to ease some of the nervousness I felt. “But she doesn’t mind, as long as I keep in touch and stay safe.”

God, I’d really pulled that one out of my arse, hadn’t I?

Jules seemed to buy it though and hummed again, folding his hands together. “When is this?”

“Next week, they’re leaving Sunday.” George answered, taking a sip of the drink he’d made us earlier.

“Your mother-” His dad attempted to say but George was swifter, “I know, that’s why I’m asking you now.”

Jules didn’t look too happy about the interruption or having been put on the spot, but didn’t comment on it, nor did he add to George’s explanation.

“I could call her, mention it.” Jules murmured, thinking it over as his eyes passed over his son’s. “But I don’t think she will mind. As long as you have fun, ah?”

The older man grinned and I felt the tightness in my chest loosen, going back to my food as the duo continued to talk more about the trip and then the football match that was supposedly on later tonight.

I smiled to myself, figuring that this was probably the most normal family interaction I’d been apart of in a long time. And my smile only grew when George trapped my ankle between both of his feet, a silent acknowledgement.

He walked me home later that evening, hands in our pockets after having said a quiet goodbye to his dad, who’d looked just about ready to nod off on the sofa.

It was quiet out and the walk was short so we decided on taking the long way, talking amongst ourselves, me staring up at the stars, him kicking at the pebbles we passed by.

“You never mentioned singing before.”

George’s sudden mention of the earlier topic faltered my step briefly, but I kept looking on. “Not something I tell most people.” I replied with a lazy shrug.

“Why?” He asked me, and if it’d been anyone else I’d’ve told them to mind their own. But this was George. George who new more parts of me than most. Who knew and didn’t judge. Who never whispered a word of it to anyone.

I rolled my lips against one another. “It was just something I always shared with my dad.”

George didn’t say anything for a minute or so, probably mulling it over, thinking of something to say. People always got so tense whenever I mentioned him. Death made people weird.

“You any good?”

That ask prompted an unexpected laugh from me and I peered over at him with a bright smile, teeth brushing against my lower lip.

He knew me so well. I didn’t need pity, apologies, sympathy.

“The next Britney, me.”

George grimaced and I chuckled some more before gazing down at my feet.

“I don’t know. My dad liked to hear me, said it reminded him of when his grandad used to take him to the local market down by the lock near their house. The women there used to sing on the barges that passed.”

George hummed around a sweet smile, “Will you sing to me?”

“Not even on your dying day.” I quipped right back, laughing when he stopped to narrow his eyes at me.

“Come on, just a song. A verse!” He attempted to bargain but I wouldn’t budge, shaking my head.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, you know.” I told him with a laugh, “Was meant to be home twenty minutes ago, I’ll have to shuffle up the drain again.”

“Well, we’re already late so you’ll still have to make do with that drainpipe of yours, or I can offer you a shoulder up.”

I snorted softly, “What a sight that’d be if a neighbour saw.”

George gifted me a lopsided grin and continued on walking, “So no chance of a song then?”

I shook my head.

“Not even if I swore to moon the headmaster tomorrow morning?”

I wasn’t quick enough to swallow down my loud cackle, not having expected that response from him.

“As if you’d showcase your spotty arse to the entire school.”

George hip-checked me, “Fuck you, I do not have a spotty arse.”

“Well, how would I know? I’ve never seen it.”

“This your way of asking?” He smirked back, winking at me.

My jaw dropped at his blatant cheek, honestly so surprised I struggled to find a proper retort. “You wish.”

George snorted at the flustered reply and continued walking on with a proud grin. He’d bested me there, we both knew it.

I huffed and let him have the win. Mostly because we were fast approaching my house and I could already see that the lights were still on.

With a sigh, I slowed my steps, all but lugging myself along the pavement now. George seemed to notice, but when did he not?

“You can always call me, you know? Just a text away.” He spoke, voice trailing out along the late summer air.

He knew I was dreading going inside, but that was to be expected. I always felt that way.

Instead of making any fuss though I merely grinned, waving him off. “I’ll be fine. But make sure you put your dad to bed, hey? Heard him complain about his back as he bent down to get in the freezer. He’ll regret kipping on that settee come morning.”

George gave me a small smile, finding amusement in my truthful words, but I could see the concern in his eyes. The worry lines that aged his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” I assured, smiling up at him. “Last day and then we’re home free, G!”

George nodded at the reminder and tugged a hand out from his pocket to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips trailing along my jaw ever so gently. I held my breath. Wondering if he’d finally close that distance between us. If he knew I wanted it just as badly.

But then he pulled away again and I tried to hide my sinking disappointment.

“See you tomorrow, Birdie.”

I gave him a crooked smile and pushed up on my tiptoes to press a careful kiss to his cheek. “Tomorrow. Night, G.”

…

I was on a bit of a high as I made my way around the side of the house, trainers dodging the dried out mud puddled beneath the kitchen window before I slid through the wearing wooden gate.

George hadn’t made a move but it was a baby step.

Ross’s words repeated on a loop in my head as I climbed my way up onto the garden wall to grab at the ledge sat just above the backdoor. Once I was stable there I shuffled my way up and over to my bedroom window, always just leaving it off the latch.

‘He’s half fucking in love with you.’

‘But that’s alright, I guess. Seeing as he has no clue that you like him too.’

He was a wise one, our Ross. But I don’t know, part of me was desperate to believe him, the other fearful- of what, I wasn’t quite sure.

I forced out a heavy breath as I lugged my body in through the open window, being mindful not to make too much noise as I stuck my landing.

With a breathless exhale I spun around to close the window again, startling when I saw a figure sat in the corner of my room, looming in the old wicker chair I’d had there for years.

My hand jumped up to my racing heart as I processed the shock, biting back the sudden fear that crawled its way up the back of my neck when I noticed his predatory grin.

“Been wonderin’ how you’ve been sneakin’ in and out without me noticing.” Steven commented causally, as though it was perfectly normal for a grown man to be sat up waiting for a teenage girl in her bedroom. “‘Cause at first, you see, at first I reckoned you were just pretty stealthy. Funny that, what with you bein’ so lard.”

He snorted at his own joke, but I paid his cruel words no attention, far too used to the rotten things he’d often spout. Men were all the same, only Steven just didn’t have a single good bone in his body.

I walked over to my dresser, fiddling with the rings there before I reached for a hair tie. I was trying not to show him that I cared, that I hated him for invading my space, that I wanted to run as quick as my legs would let me away. If I did then it was game over, he’d win.

I almost didn’t hear him stand, so I tensed slightly when a floorboard creaked beneath his weight. He approached from behind, his face coming into view beside mine in the dresser mirror. I didn’t look him in the eye.

“Where you been then? Out with yer mates, or were you gettin’ your leg over?”

Bile rose, it suffocated my senses for a moment before I steeled myself. He wouldn’t get the upper hand here. I wouldn’t give him a reaction.

“Saw you outside with that lad. Harry down the pub says your often with him, sees the two of you out late most nights.” Steven said snidely, “Do you love him, pet? Reckon he loves you back, do ya?”

My eyes flew up towards his in the mirror, “Did you want something, Steven?”

He whistled lowly then and I watched his mouth tug up into a menacing smirk as his eyes grazed over my face in the reflection, slowly making their way down to the curve of my neck and then lower. I kept my head held high even as I turned to slide out from between him and the dresser, only I wasn’t quick enough.

His hips jerked out instinctively and he pinned me to the wooden drawers. My mind buzzed, I was panicking now. He’d never gotten close like this. A punch here, a shove there. But, never like this.

“Let me go.”

“Why, petal? Don’t you think we could have some fun?”

“Let me go.” I repeated, firmer this time, fists steeled against the countertop.

When he only laughed at my reaction I took the chance his ego gave me, kicking back swiftly with my leg to hit him just below his knee and buckle him. He did, but only just, springing out to claw at me as I darted my way to the bedroom door.

I screamed when I felt his hands catch at my waist, but the handle was already in my hand and so I tugged as hard as I could. It opened, flying out to catch the side of my face.

Shocked by the sudden impact, my head fell limply and I stopped struggling for a moment. His hold tightened though and I knew I had to keep on, get to the stairs, then to the front door.

Just get out.

“Let go!” I screeched, scratching at his greedy hands and tugging my body relentlessly towards the hallway.

It was a game of tug-of-war, and for him I supposed I was the prize. But I wasn’t too easily won. I sent another kick backwards, he avoided it. I used the same foot to crash down hard on his toes, he yelped and loosened his arms slightly in surprise, enough for me to break out into the hall, crashing into the wall opposite my room.

His fist collided with the back of my head just as my cheek bounced off the photo frame mum had hung there, I slumped lower, wiggling my way downwards and towards where I knew the banister would be.

“Don’t, be, difficult.” He grunted out.

“Fuck you.” I spat back.

On the floor now, I rolled over and ignored the carpet that burned the skin of my arms. I kicked harder, vision hazy as he loomed over me. He struck me again for talking back, like he often did whenever he was home, but then hit me twice more just because he could. Laughing about it now.

I forced myself backwards, the hallway was dim, the only light coming from the bedroom at the end of the walkway. I wondered if she was in there. If she could hear all of this. “Mum?” I called out, wailing almost. “Mum!”

Steven laughed harder at that. “She ain’t here. Even if she were, she’d be no help to you, you little tramp. Now get up!” He ordered and I felt the back of my hand brush against the wooden beam of the banister. “Up!”

I did as I was told, legs trembling before me. He struck me back down again, then ordered the same. “Up!”

I could hardly feel anything but the licking fire that flooded my veins, every inch of my body hurting. But I couldn’t let it show.

I stumbled to my feet, vision so blurred I ought to be concussed. He pinned me to the wall there, hands roaming, I whimpered and he only grinned, getting in my face.

“Pretty when you try, ain’t you?” He snarked. I gritted my teeth and thrashed about, spitting in his face when I couldn’t smash his head away with my own.

He worked his jaw for a moment, blinking once at me before another disgusting smirk replaced his thinly pressed lips.

“I could kill you, here and now. Make it hurt, do it nice and slow. No one would even notice. Would they? No one would be none the wiser. You hear me?” He hissed brutally into my ear, I was quivering now, whimpering as he drew closer and closer, pressing against me. “Yer mum would thank me, kiss my feet even, for having gotten rid of the tart she birthed. She cries, you know. All the time. Tells me she wishes it were you who died, and not your old man.”

I choked on a sob, thrashing again. He laughed joyfully.

“Is that it? Do you miss yer daddy, little girl?” He taunted, mouth pressing against the skin of my cheek now, breath hot as his fingers worked at the button of my shorts. “But he ain’t comin’ to help you, petal. No one is.”

I turned my face further away from him, as far as I possibly could. Lip trembling and arms falling slack. He chuckled, shaking his head at me and tutting, but his mistake was thinking I’d make this easy for him. He could go fuck himself.

As soon as he released one of my wrists to paw at the cut of my shorts, I shot my knee out, colliding with his lower half hard. He groaned in pain, fingers flexing against the jut of my wrist when I shoved him as hard as I could away with my free hand.

He twisted the arm he still held as he stumbled slightly, but I couldn’t react, not even to the sharp pain that flew up towards my elbow. I had to take the chance while I still had it, thrashing even more and grabbing blindly for the ancient ornament my mum had kept on the shelf nearby for years. I brought it down hard once my fingers wrapped around its metal, smashing it against the hand that still encased my arm. He shouted out and in his agony flew his uninjured arm back at me, knocking the side of the ornament I still gripped and sending its pointed top sailing towards my neck. It pierced the thin skin between my collar and shoulder blade.

I pulled it free thoughtlessly, gawking at the sight of it before he came flying towards me. On instinct I chucked the hefty ornament back his way, catching the side of his head when he attempted to duck away from it. I darted towards the bathroom in the same second, the closest room available, and slammed the door shut behind me. Fiddling with the lock, it slipped through my fingers three times before it finally latched.

I looked around the room for anything to protect myself with, shaking violently, but my only option was the plunger and the cabinet on the adjacent wall. But I wasn’t even sure that it could come away. My next idea was the window.

Steven banged at the door then, a flight of fury, anger creeping in from the tiny gap beneath it as he shouted at the top of his lungs. I was already crouched in the sink, heartbeat filling up my ears. I fumbled with the window’s latch, coating the white windowsill in red as I forced the tiny pane open as far as it’d go.

I glanced out helplessly, trying to actively ignore the harsh thumping coming from behind me. I was a whole story up and had nothing to catch me down below, not even a ledge or a pipe to help me with my descent.

I paused for a moment to try and think things through, but that was my mistake, the bathroom door behind me splintered under the full force of his weight and he all but jumped across the tiled floor to grab at me.

I didn’t even think about it, throwing myself out of the open window in my panic, but not quick enough it seemed because his hand wrapped itself halfway around my leg like a snake would its prey. I was practically dangling upside down out of the window now, my hands desperately clawing at the brickwork to find something to hang onto. Still kicking as he tried to pull me back inside.

I’d rather die, I thought in the hectic haze, or maybe I screamed it.

I heard her voice then. Her screaming out his name, my eyes shot up to see a flash of her hair above me in the bathroom. But it was in that moment that he chose to finally release me. That he finally let me go. And I fell. Dropped. Barely even feeling the ground as I splattered against it, face full of grass, hip colliding with the concrete patio.

She called out for me then. Said my name. It was the first time I’d heard her say it in weeks.

My vision begun to flash, coming in and out of focus in thick streaks, I dragged myself upwards. Pain radiated throughout the length of my body as I did, but I just kept on going. Knowing if I kept on going then this would be the last of it. It would all be over.

Struggling, fighting with myself to just keep on, to escape, I staggered down the garden path to pass through the side gate and out onto the sheltered drive. I clung to the wall there, using it as a crutch to aid me along.

I could still hear their shouts over the ringing, the incessant ringing that distracted me from most of the pain. I kept on pushing, forcing myself out onto the street now. Someone was coming after me, I’d heard the door rattle open but hadn’t dared look back, too focused on moving forward.

My name.

I heard her call my name over and over.

But somehow, by some miracle, I managed to break into a limping run. My lungs ached and I was gasping for air, but once I’d made it far enough, as far as I was capable, I felt my body drop against the curbed pavement. Head buried in the gravel road, hand clutching at my throbbing shoulder.

Next thing I knew there were lights, people. Sirens.

I kept on screaming.

“Don’t touch me! Please!” I sobbed, utterly distraught, “Don’t!”

They couldn’t touch me. I wouldn’t- they couldn’t. I wouldn’t let them.

So many voices flittered in and out of focus, attempts to talk me down, to help.

Everyone had gathered around to witness, it seemed, and I caved further into my shivering body, unable to focus on their whispers, the gasps, the looks. I didn’t know where I was. I was too scared to even ask. Too shocked to notice the familiar faces that littered the neighbourhood, looking down at me. Too terrified that he’d find me. That I’d be dragged back.

I sobbed harder. Eyes flicking to and fro. Trying to assess the situation, looking for any and all warning signs. An escape. But I couldn’t. Head too heavy to concentrate, my thoughts shutting down.

Then there was a scuffle off to the far side and I tensed at the shouting that pursued, someone nearby was ordering people to step back, to go home.

Home, I wanted so desperately to scoff. How could I go home?

“Hey! You can’t be here.” They repeated, their voice itching at my skin, tightening every single muscle in my body. “Move away. Step away now!”

“She’s my friend! Let me fucking through. Y/n! Y/n!”

Breathless, my head snapped up at the call of my name and through my hazy vision, I caught a glimpse of him. Him. How he’d known I was here, I had no idea, but he was there.

“George.” I sobbed openly, and that was the signal that seemed to allow him access.

He all but threw himself towards me and the woman crouched about a foot away called out a warning to him, but I was reaching out too. Desperate for that safety that’d been so easily ripped away from me.

I continued to sob, for who knows how long. He held me, tight. An anchor and a protector. He never let anyone get near. The sirens and flashing lights faded, and all I could hear was his voice. He sounded so lost. I wanted to apologise. I wanted him to hold me tighter.

“Come on, B. You need to get up now, alright? I need you to let them check you over. You won’t stop bleeding.”

He kept on repeating himself. Over and over. I couldn’t understand why. I was fine. Terrified but fine. I didn’t need them. I didn’t need to be touched. I didn’t want to be looked at.

I wanted to go home. But where the fuck was home?

It wasn’t back there. It wasn’t with him.

I cried harder.

“Birdie. Hey, Birdie, babe. Listen to me please. I’m here. I’m here and I’ve got you. Come on, we’re going to get into the ambulance, okay? Together. Just me and you.”

Me and you. “Me and you.” I repeated, his hand tightening a fraction in mine.

“That okay? Can you do that for me, love?”

I think I nodded, I couldn’t be sure. Uncertain of which way was up and which way was down. I leaned against his sturdy frame. “George, I lied.” I gasped out to him through my relentless spluttering, clawing at his chest.

He didn’t reply.

“I lied, G! I said I’d be fine.” I cracked, barely even aware of the words I was spewing to him. “Can you stay? Please can you stay? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He wrapped himself further around me, hand in my matted hair.

“Yeah, Birdie. I’ll stay. I’m not going nowhere.” He assured me, gentle as he lifted me up and into the ambulance. “I’ve got you.”

—

I’d always hated hospitals. Ever since my dad had died.

I hated the fact that I was here again, in the same one he’d left us in. Left me in.

I didn’t pay much attention to anything, only ever reacting when someone touched me without warning. Waking when a nurse would pop her head in or when someone would pass outside the door.

George was dozing in the chair beside my bed. I couldn’t remember calling him. I couldn’t remember much. I suppose I didn’t want to.

I ached. Everywhere.

But it was my mind that caused the most pain. Relentless in its pursuit to keep me under. To never let me forget.

I could still feel his hands. The groping, the press of his mouth. The breath on my ear.

I shivered, forcing back the tears and swallowing past the harsh lump.

My eyes fluttered again. Heavy now. Heavier than ever. The room faded, George’s faint breaths lulling my mind, sleep dragging me under.

——

“Fuck!” George hissed out, slamming his fist into the opposing wall to keep from chucking up whatever else his stomach had left to give. “Fuck.” He repeated, only with a lot less conviction, less drive.

She wouldn’t stop crying. She wouldn’t let them come near. She’d been so defenceless.

And where was I? His head screamed at him.

Where the hell was I?

His fist collided with the wall above the toilet again, face scrunched up tight to keep from crying too.

His breaths grew ragged, hands clenched hard enough to hurt, all whilst feeling sick to his stomach.

He startled.

A knock had sounded from just outside and he inhaled a sharp breath, waiting a moment, before he croaked out, “Yeah?”

He sounded so weak. Voice shaking.

“Um, there’s a call here for you, sir.” An unfamiliar voice spoke through the thick door, “Asking for a George Daniel.”

He swallowed thickly, the action doing nothing at all to dull the nausea that rolled through him. “Yeah.” He rasped in reply, pulling the toilet chain and moving towards the door as his insides flushed away.

He stepped out into the quiet corridor, to where she now laid asleep in the room opposite. George’s tired, albeit alert, gaze honed in on a nurse dressed in blue staring carefully back at him.

“They’ve phone three times now.” She told him, voice soft. “I kept them on the line, but I can’t hold them off any longer.”

George swallowed again and nodded to her, casting a long glance into the room beside them.

The nurse followed his eye, “She’s strong. They’ll let her go soon enough.”

He dipped his head and reluctantly let her lead him down towards the ward’s reception desk, to where a phone was sat off the hook. She gestured towards it with a nod and then left him to it.

It was late enough that there weren’t many people mulling about, let alone any visitors, he’d only been allowed to stay because she’d refused to be treated otherwise.

“Hello?” George answered, voice cracking, having picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

“Fuck. George, that you, mate?”

Ross.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me.” He answered in a slow breath, “How’d you know to call?”

“It’s everywhere, mate. They say she got jumped, is it true? Is she alright?”

Jumped.

His mind lingered on that word. Staring off down the corridor. Lingered on the fact that people in their shitty fucking town were already gossiping about it. It made him hate himself a little bit more.

“She’s asleep.” Was all that he replied.

“Is she. Okay. George.” Ross demanded before the line went quiet once more, eerily George could still hear the other boy’s resolved glare from down the phone. It was a hard image not to picture.

“She’s,” He had to pause, force down the wetness in his tone, the tears that were coming. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Ross stressed and George had never heard him sound so serious. So grown up.

“They found her on the road just off of mine. Some woman.” He swallowed again, though the salvia was just pooling in his mouth at this point. “Y/n. She, she was screaming- sobbing. I only knew about it when I heard the sirens, the lights. I- I just had a feeling, Ross. I ran down, hoping, praying, but… Fuck.”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, breaths laboured.

“George?” Ross called out to him, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” He rasped in reply, straining to keep his voice even as he wet the flesh of his lip. “She. She’s been checked over, they have her on a drip. No broken bones, just a few sprains. Said she jumped from a window.”

“She did what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know what happened, but it weren’t good.” George muttered to himself, bloodshot eyes trained on an off-centred tile a way away. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. She- there was so much blood, Ross.”

“Blood? What the fuck are you talking about, what went on?” Ross hissed down the phone, George knew that he wasn’t really asking him.

“Stab wound to her shoulder.” He answered though, needing to get it all out, in fear he’d never be able to again. “Wasn’t very deep but they stitched it up. Along with the cut on her head.”

“Hang on- stabbed? George, what?”

“I don’t know, Ross!” He stressed, tears blurring his vision now as he thought back to her sat there on that roadside, beaten, alone, sobbing. “I don’t know, okay! I just- I don’t know what to do. What do I do? What do I say?”

A long pause.

“It’s my fault.” He whispered brokenly into the receiver, “I let her leave. I let her go home.” He admitted quietly, tear rolling down the skin of his cheek. “It’s my fault, Ross.”

“G… mate, you can’t say that. It’s- you didn’t know.”

He did. He knew. He’d known for a long time how bad it was. How bad it’d been. He knew. He knew. He knew.

“It’s all my fault.”

A piercing scream startled him then and he all but dropped the phone to dart in its direction. Three long strides and he was at her door, shouting at the idiot that’d come in to tamper with the IV beside her, his entire body trembling.

“Get out!” He demanded, hands shaking in fury, in fear. Before he looked towards her, hating that he saw that same terror reflected on her face. He rushed to her side and she grabbed aimlessly for his hand, he let her take it. Let her burrow her face in his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and settled on the edge of the bed. “I’m here.” He murmured into her hair, “I’m here, Birdie.”

——

No one should’ve known, no one had heard it from me.

But everyone did.

The police had been by. Twice.

So had Matty’s mum, she’d charged in this morning and started making demands. Not daring to touch me, to ask questions.

She sat with me whilst they ran more tests, George outside with the boys. They were quiet. All four of them. I would’ve felt humiliated, deep down I probably did, but I couldn’t feel much of anything with how horrified I was. With how my mind never let up, never let me rest.

He’d been arrested, an officer had told me. Not charged, not yet. Maybe not ever.

My mum had come by asking questions, someone had sent her away. I hadn’t seen her.

Next thing I knew I was being carted out of the hospital and into the back of Denise’s car with a pile of leaflets and a therapist to contact. No one said a word.

The police were outside of Matty’s when we arrived, I ignored them until my eyes found George hunched on the settee. He was still in the same trackie bottoms from before, I could tell because they were still littered with specs of my blood. The white t-shirt was gone though, replaced by one of Matty’s biggest hoodies, which still looked too small on him.

Denise and George stayed with me whilst I was questioned again, repeating the same answers again and again. The boys just outside. I told the officers most of what happened. Told them about the way he’d treated me, and mum. How she wasn’t to blame. How scared she’d been. Liar.

They spoke to Denise as though I wasn’t there afterwards and, in a way, I supposed I wasn’t. Not really. Mind off elsewhere.

George had let me hold his hand through the entire thing, fingers pale against mine. He’d kept looking at me, every few seconds, as though he was scared I was going to disappear or maybe just fall apart.

I kept thinking back to him. To the ambulance ride. To the whispers he’d gifted me, the promises he’d made. How I’d lied. Liar.

School had been and gone, my last day snatched from not just me, but all the boys too.

Denise let me have the guest room, running me a hot bath and laying out some clothes. I’d been thankful for the offer but wary, George had followed me up in silence and then planted himself on the floor outside the bathroom without a word.

He’d still been there when I’d let the door creak back open, lifted his head and given me a tired smile before we’d both puttered into the bedroom.

It was barely even afternoon before I crawled into the bed upstairs. Larger than I was used to, having been holed up on the same twin sized mattress I’d had since I was thirteen.

I was fearful that George would go home at that point, but he merely showered and borrowed some more clothes off of Matty. He dwarfed them but I smiled as he entered the room to silently set up the blow up mattress Denise had brought in.

Matty had stopped by to say goodnight, pain in his pretty brown eyes, but with a brave smile limning his lips. I’d let him squeeze my hand before he’d left, shutting the door quietly behind him. George took up space on the mattress below and I shuffled all the way to one end of the bed to reach my hand out towards him. He took it without a second thought and I fell asleep like that, with his hand tucked safely in mine, his thumb soothing careful circles into the back of my wrist.

—

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I mean, you’re barely even out of hospital.” Denise fussed over me as I waited for George to join us downstairs.

It was finally Sunday. Which meant we were leaving.

“I’m sure.” I told her quietly, she hid her frown well but I could still see it there, behind the lingering look she gave me.

“At least let me drop you both to the station, or pack you something to take with you.” Denise continued, I smiled when she cradled my cheek. “You’ve hardly eaten since I’ve seen you! Worries me.”

I knew it did. Matty had already brought me up both breakfast and lunch, and it was barely gone ten.

“I’ll take the lift if you really are offering.” I acquiesced and watched a smile bloom on her face.

“Right then, I’ll go grab my keys.”

She puttered off just before George shuffled his way down the stairs, Matty talking his ear off all the while. I smiled at the sight of them, at the way George rolled his tired eyes.

He’d hardly slept, same as me, but I still felt a twinge of guilt ripple through me when he caught my staring.

“Oh look! It’s the second half to the pair of traitors I once called friends.” Matty scoffed as he bounced off the third step and dropped down onto the floor, he turned his nose up at me and I rolled my eyes in return. Unfazed by his melodramatics.

“Don’t be jealous, Healy. You’ll always be my favourite.” I smirked at him, hoping it looked as genuine as it felt.

Matty grinned in turn whilst George settled the duffle he’d picked up from his yesterday by the front door, he strolled back over to join us.

“Hear that, G? I’m her favourite.” Matty boasted, sniffing with an overly pleased smile.

George wrapped an arm around my shoulder and, naturally, I leant into him. “Don’t think it matters, mate. You’ll still be stuck here, whilst we’re off in the city.”

Yeah. Matty now knew of our little secret.

It had all come out late last night, when I’d fought tooth and nail with George about the trip down south. I still wanted to go, more now than ever. But he’d had his reservations.

With a childish scowl, Matty made a face in retaliation and propped himself up against the banister bar. “Still can’t believe you lied to us. I mean, where’s your sense of camaraderie?”

I chuckled to myself, hiding the soft sound in the groove of George’s shoulder.

“I’m stuck here, all fucking summer long, with Hann and Ross… mum too! I can already picture it! The four of us down at the pub, just drowning our sorrows and sniffling into our pints. You can’t actually leave me here with them!”

When I glanced back up Matty had seemingly decided to drop to his knees to beg for an invitation, hands clasped before him, that was also the same moment Denise decided to pop back in.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Matthew. What in heavens are you up to now?” She scolded with a half-hearted huff, tutting as she shook her head at her eldest son.

“I’m making a plea, mum.” Matty told her in all seriousness, barely sparing her a glance as she passed by.

“For goodness sake.” Denise sighed, unable to do much else, which was almost always a given with anything Matty related. “Get up off the floor and make yourself useful, would you? I’ve got the hoover plugged in, be a dear and run over the rugs for me.”

Matty’s hands fell limply to his sides just as his mouth dropped in disbelief. He glanced back towards George and I. “You see what kind of hell you’re leaving me in? What teenage boy hoovers??”

“Mine!” Denise told him simply, poking at his shoulder to get him to stand with smile, “Now, run along. I’ve got to drop these two off before their train leaves, haven’t I?”

George and I took that as our queue to start grabbing at our things, him swiping up the small suitcase Denise had taken from mine yesterday before I had the chance. I flattened my expression, showing my displeasure.

“Mum.” Matty all but whined, neither one of them paying much attention to us now. “Can’t I just come? You know, see my mates off and all.”

Denise wasn’t a woman to be bargained with. “No, you’ll see them soon enough. Now, if you’d like to make your goodbyes while I start the car then have at.”

I bit back the giggle that wanted to escape me upon seeing Matty’s dejected face, whilst Denise double checked for her car keys and purse then slid out the front door yelling, “Five minutes!”

“You make it sound like I’d been sentenced to death, woman!” Matty shouted out after her and his mum’s reply was what broke the dam, letting a flood of muffled laughter escape me. “Hoover and you might just live to tell the tale, Matthew!”

Matty grumbled to himself, shaking his head before he peered back over at us with his hands on his hips, looking like a little old lady.

“So, you know what happened here then if I’m missing when you two get back.” He sighed, as though he’d already gone and accepted his fate. “Tell the coppers it was her, yeah? And have a party at my funeral, no fuckin’ tears or nothin’ either. Oh, and I want my coffin a bright pink, the flowers can-”

“Matt.” George spoke with an amused chuckle, cutting into Matty’s longwinded rant. He opened his arm out wide and snorted when the curly haired freak catapulted himself across the hall at him.

“Gonna miss you lot.” Matty mumbled into George’s shoulder before he pulled away and stepped towards me, a little warily. I moved over to him, silently assuring him that I wanted a good cuddle too. He grinned down at me and I felt him press a gentle peck to the top of my head when he’d wrapped me up in his arms. “Make sure you bring me something back, yeah? Something sick.”

I smiled fondly as we parted, squeezing his fingers briefly. “Promise.”

Matty’s gaze trailed between the two of us then and a sly smirk begun to overwhelm his features. “And I want all the details about this-” he waved a hand between us, “when you get back.”

The fucker. Way to make things awkward, I thought.

I honestly did go to correct him, to tell him that nothing had happened between George and I. But G beat me to it.

Well, not really, because he didn’t deny anything of the sort, just laughed as he treaded closer to the door. “Bye, Matty.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Matty called out after us, and I chuckled as I followed George out.

Always one to make a scene though, Matty stood and waved us off from the front step of the house once we’d both settled in the car and Denise had just begun to pull away.

His mum only sighed.

—

I shifted again for what felt like the umpteenth time.

I was uncomfortable. Incredibly so, enough that I was quickly beginning to regret having been so stubborn about not postponing this entire trip when the offer had been there.

“You alright?” George asked from where he sat across the table from me, his hands toying with a ticket.

We were on the train now, the journey just under three hours. But we weren’t even a quarter of the way through yet and I was already dreading the rest of it.

I nodded in reply, still shuffling about. “Just can’t get comfortable.”

My body ached, my head and spine were bruised to bits, but it was just my hip that wouldn’t allow me to settle in my seat. The doctors reckoned I’d sprained it falling out that upstairs window, but they couldn’t do anything for the cramping I kept feeling other than offer me a prescription, which had just been an over-the-counter pain relief.

Tough fucking luck, hey?

“Here.” George motioned to me. I watched him jump up from the seat he’d fallen into when we’d first boarded and then jerk his head down at it.

I frowned slightly but stood carefully before rounding the tiny table which had separated us, observing closely as he rolled up his hoodie and bundled it against the car’s window. He ushered me in afterwards and I went, letting him take the seat beside me so that he could pull my legs up to lay across his lap.

“Better?” He questioned, a hand wrapped loosely around my ankle now.

I smiled and gifted him a grateful nod. It’d helped a ton actually.

“Good.” He replied, then pulled out a tiny notebook from the duffle he’d brought with him, “‘Cause now there’ll be no excuses when I beat you in hangman.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, you’re on.”

—

George’s quiet laughter only agitated me further as I mumbled to myself about ‘fucking trains’ and ‘toffy twats who didn’t know when to shut the fuck up’ as we manoeuvred our way through the hectic crowds of Kings Cross Station.

We’d spent the last half of our journey surrounded by a bunch of rowdy university lads, who were obviously on their way back home. But listen, because I’m the very last person to have a bitch and a moan about people just enjoying themselves or having fun- even when it inconvenienced me, yeah? But these fucking ignorant twats had really pushed my limit.

I mean, who the fuck starts a loud debate over their fucking political crushes? And then go on to boast to one another about where they’d be spending their summers whilst simultaneously mocking anyone who holidayed in ‘the isles’ or didn’t at all.

I’d sent a wide eyed glance at George when they’d first started up and my disbelieving frown had quickly grown into me just biting my tongue to keep from ripping them each a new one when they’d started snickering at the rest of us. At the tiny family down the far end of the car, with its single mother and her chocolate covered toddler who was sporting an upset frown. At the elderly bloke cooped up in the far corner, who kept nervously jumping whenever the train rattled too hard against the tracks. Even at George and I. Because of my fucked up face and George’s nonplussed reaction.

George’s calming hand had been the only thing to keep me stated. Otherwise they never would’ve made it to the station.

Should count themselves lucky.

“Don’t laugh, George. I hate people like that.” I grunted out as I rubbed at my hip again, thankful that I hadn’t fought him when he’d taken my suitcase. “Looking down on others, acting like their shit don’t stink the same.”

George visibly fought not to snort outright at that and I huffed.

“Keep on, Daniel, and you’ll be hearing a lot worse.” I told him pointedly, but smiled politely at the ticket officer as we passed through the barriers.

“Don’t doubt it.” George replied, hiking his duffle up higher over his shoulder. “But B, you’ve got to learn not to let people like that affect you. Otherwise I’d be having to fight off every idiot that looked at you funny.”

“I can fight my own battles, thank you.” I retorted primly.

George huffed out a chuckle. “I know that much, but no one’s gonna hurt you again with me around.”

My gaze focused on the buzzing swarm ahead, at the giant boards hanging high above us, anything but him. “I thought we weren’t talking about it.” I murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and wincing when I forgot about the stitches in my shoulder.

I heard him sigh and said nothing more on the topic.

We’d just about made it to the taxi rank, where Aunt Del had said she’d be waiting for us yesterday, when George spoke up again. “I’m gonna grab some deodorant and shit from the pharmacy over there- forgot to pack it in with the rest. You want anything?”

I watched as he settled our bags down beside a bench and then jerk his head over towards a Boots nearby. I shrugged, “Maybe a drink. If you don’t mind?”

George flashed me a smile, waving off the second part of my comment. “Diet Coke, yeah?”

I nodded, flashing him an overdue smile, “You know me so well.”

He shook his head lightly, lips still upturned as he headed in the other direction. I sighed whilst slumping onto the bench.

I’d been in London five minutes and already I felt overwhelmed. The station was hectic, even on a Sunday! There were people everywhere, lights and signs adorned every possible space, and there was never a lulling moment of peace. Everyone was just go, go, go.

Saying that, it was possibly the best place I’d ever people watched. There were all sorts of personalities down here. I mean, it wasn’t everyday you spotted a 6ft woman with a mohawk the length of a tennis racket walking through the streets of Wilmslow. Or an old hippy dressed in a black bin bag, waving a guitar.

It was pretty incredible. And I took the time to search for all the anomalies littered amongst the suits and denim jeans, a game of Where's Wally?. I much preferred their eccentricity.

“Alright, they were out of the stuff I usually get so I got this instead, smelt nice enough though.” I glanced up at the sound of George’s voice and spotted him making his way back to me whilst peering down at the deodorant can he held in his hand. My drink was tucked up under his left arm and he had a carrier bag dangling from his wrist. “What d’you think?” He asked when he reached the bench, holding the can out towards me. I sniffed at the scent whilst he settled the drink he’d purchased beside me and quickly tucked the bag into his duffle.

“I like it.” I told him honestly, glancing down at the label. “It’s different.”

“That good or bad?” He chuckled in reply and I smiled.

“Good. You’ll pull any one you fancy now that you’ve got something to cover that awful smell that often follows you about.”

His eyes wrinkled as he pulled a face in retaliation, “Hilarious, you. Why’d I ever let you talk me into coming again?”

I chuckled to myself, grinning up at him when he moved in closer to swipe the deodorant from my grasp. “‘Cause you’d be lost without me- dead bored too.”

He hummed, as though mulling it all over. Then leaned down towards me, nose almost touching mine as his face broke into a smile. “Sounds about right.”

I wanted to crane my neck up in that moment, let my lips brush against his. It was all I wanted in truth. But I didn’t dare. Too terrified of how he’d react. If every lie I’d heard ever told about me turned out to be true. If I was just as worthless as their words painted me to be.

“Yeah. It does, don’t it?”

George’s grin was large but still soft somehow, and his brown eyes danced between my own whilst the station continued to buzz around us. He hummed again, rocking on his feet, edging ever so closer.

Smash!

We both jolted apart at the sudden commotion, heads snapping up and over towards the loud bang. We both snorted at the same time, having spotted the culprit.

“They’re a fucking whole different breed down here.” George laughed lowly, shaking his head at a hefty looking pigeon that had seemingly taken the opportunity to try and nab a sandwich from out of an older woman’s hand- only it’d flown headfirst into a shop’s swinging sign.

I could only agree with his statement before I pivoted slightly, pausing only when I spotted another older woman waving her arms about wildly just outside the station doors. My jaw dropped for a second before I found myself chuckling at the sight, nudging George’s side to grab his attention too. He only raised his brows at the mad cow dressed in orange dungarees and a striped tee who was so obviously waving at us.

“I reckon everything down here’s different, G.” I snorted before I was waving back at my Aunt just as eagerly, already gathering up our stuff.

“No shit.” Is all I heard George say in return.

…

“Oh my Christ, ain’t you just grown so big!” Was the first thing Aunt Del said after she’d sprinted over to wrap me up in a long-overdue hug. “My, I swear you look like the double of me when I was your age.” She breathed out, her bright red lips matching her cherry coloured hair, gentle green eyes gazing down at me.

“Hi to you too, Aunt Del.” I chuckled, smiling back at her. She hadn’t changed at all from the day I remembered her, just as bubbly and as lovable as ever.

“Oh psh, none of that hello nonsense!” She retorted, blowing out a willowy breath as she waved a hand between us both. “I’m too excited! Have been ever since your Nan mentioned the visit. I can’t believe how long it’s been, doll!”

“I know.” I said in quiet agreement, my hand finding hers just before I shuffled over to reveal the tall teenage boy stood not too far behind me. “Oh Aunt Del, this is my friend, George. G, this is my Auntie Delany.”

Aunt Del’s eyes brightened as she took in all George had to offer, grinning a wry little smile before she squeezed my hand tightly. “Your Nana mentioned you were bringing a friend…” She let slip and then nodded her head for George to come closer, “But she never said he’d be a looker. How’re you, love? The train treat you alright?”

I gave a silent snort at the wobbly expression George’s face pulled itself into when my aunt tugged him into a hug as well. He gifted me a bewildered glance from over her shoulder and I shrugged, attempting to bite back my mad smile. He knew it was there though, I could tell from the brief scowl he sent me before they were pulling apart.

“Tall, handsome… you smart as well, darlin’? Or are you only a pretty face?” Aunt Del pondered as she stepped back and tilted her head up at him.

“Del.” I warned, but George’s mouth just quirked upwards ever so slightly.

“Smart enough to know when to use the pretty face to my advantage.” He quipped back easily, and I was relieved to hear Del’s sweet laugh.

“Oh, I like this one, Y/n.” She whispered theatrically, glancing over her shoulder at me before another flood of people escaped the station and she started ushering us away. “Come on now, kiddos. Parked the car over here, din’t I?”

My forehead pinched in concern, “In a taxi rank?”

“Well, where else?” Del laughed, dragging my suitcase along ahead of us while George shot me another bewildered look.

I could only assume that we’d be loaded with a hefty fucking fine.

But before I could voice that, or at least allude to it, Aunt Del had already pulled out a chain of gangly keys on an old piece of string and wandered over to a pink coloured cab.

I blinked at the sight of it. Del caught the look because she was grinning over at me from where she’d just placed my suitcase in the boot. “Good old Hewson here always gets a few heads turning, don’t you, beaut?” Aunt Del said as she patted the cab’s side, I was still taking it all in.

“Sorry, Hewson?” I questioned as she motioned to George to throw his duffle in the back too, “You named your car Hewson?”

But before Aunt Del could answer me, George cut in. He had his thinking face on.

“Hewson as in Bono?” He wondered aloud and Del spun right around to grin at him, he shut the boot for her.

“Bingo. I knew I had a good feeling about you!” Aunt Del exclaimed with a finger extended towards the chuckling teenager. She turned back to me, shaking her head in mock disappointment, “I thought for sure you’d get it, dove.”

With a wry grin I could only shrug my shoulder at her, “Sorry to disappoint, Aunt Del, but G here is the music expert between us.”

Del’s smile only appeared to widen as she shot around to the drivers side door, “Well have I got a playlist in here for you then! Only the greats, mind. So you’d best have brushed up on your seventies trivia.”

George all but beamed as he followed her over and opened up the backdoor for me, very much in his element now. I slid into the cab first, smiling at the leopard print seats and sequinned roof, then G swiftly followed.

“Oh, a gentleman too, is he?” Aunt Del cooed from the front where a pair of fuzzy dice hung from the rearview mirror, her hands gripping at the neon coloured wheel. “You’ve hit the jackpot with this one.” She winked at me and I looked away to hide my flush. “So my Georgie-pie, you get on alright with The Jam?”

George’s hand found my knee as he leant forward in his seat to grin alongside my aunt, the pair of them chatting away whilst she jolted into reverse and out of the bay. I gripped at the door’s handle to keep from being thrown about when we took off down Pancras Road, Town Called Malice blasting out over the noise of the noisy city.

…

My cheeks had begun to hurt from how hard I’d been smiling throughout the entire ride down to the simple terraced house my grandparents owned in Bethnal Green. From what I could recall, it’d been the house my grandfather had grown up in, he’d only inherited it after the Second World War when his own mother had passed away from fever, his father having died earlier on whilst stationed at the frontline. He’d raised both of his kids there, my dad and Aunt Del, after his stoop in prison, before they’d both grown up and he’d eventually passed on as well. Leaving only my Nan and Delaney left.

It wasn’t a very busy street, all the houses old and built right beside the other, but it was nice, pretty even. A vast change in pace to the busy streets of the city we’d driven through on the way over.

Del was still talking a mile a minute when she pulled up into a marked bay, only narrowly avoiding hitting the curb whilst an old Grateful Dead tune continued to blare through the speakers. George hopped out first, slipping around to my side and opening the door for me so that he could help ease me out as well, his hand stayed in mine even as we moved to join Aunt Del by the boot.

“Here’re.” Del said, divvying up the luggage between George and herself. I sighed, but it fell into more of an unhappy groan when I reached up to shut the back door of the car only to have George beat me to it.

“I haven’t lost all capability.” I muttered to him whilst Aunt Del locked up the cab and took off down the pavement, excited to get us inside.

George’s fingers linked between mine and he tugged me closer, his duffle back on his shoulder. “I know that,” He murmured into my ear, breath tickling the skin of my neck, “But it makes me feel useful, yeah?”

I sighed again, only softer this time around, as I slumped into his embrace, letting him have this one thing. At least for a short while. I knew that soon enough it’d start to drive me mad.

“You two lovebirds comin’ or am I gonna have to stand here all day?” Del mocked from where she was now rocking back and forth at the top of a set of high steps, stood in front of an indistinct door.

I shot her a sharp look which she only grinned to, before George and I ascended the short staircase too. Del already had her gangly keys back out again and we watched on as she shoved a Yale cut key into the top lock, shouting out a warning as she tumbled on through it, “Mum, I’ve brought back Northerners!”

I giggled to myself as I followed in after her, eyes racking over everything that they possibly could. We’d entered into a long narrow hallway where an old cast iron radiator still stood atop a mosaic tiled floor. The walls here had been painted a softened white and victorian blue, the blue sat beneath a moulding halfway up and spilled out onto the staircase that’d been fitted with a warm beige runner. Photo frames littered the place, diving beneath a carved ceiling arch and around a few brass fixtures. It was beautiful, homey.

George shut the heavy wooden door quietly behind us and I heard a shuffle sound farther up ahead. Del gestured us further inside, dropping our luggage at the foot of the stairs before wandering down the walkway. We followed silently, both George and I feeling the nerves edge in now, and we were quite surprised to shuffle into an open kitchen and spot a petite looking woman relaxed in an dining chair, cigarette in one hand and a TV Times in the other. She glanced up once we’d entered and the sight of her had my heart climbing to my throat, her toothy smile reminded me a lot of the pictures I'd seen of my dad.

“Well, ain’t this lovely?” My Nana chirped, already moving to stub out the remnants of her fag in a glass ashtray before standing. George released my hand so I could go meet her, legs trembling slightly. “My little dove, how you’ve grown, hey? All big now. Too tall.” She grinned at me as I dipped down a tad to bury my face into her neck.

“Hey, Nana.” I whispered, my smile shaky as she ran a soothing hand over the length of my back.

When she pulled away she pressed a thin, ring clad hand to my cheek, eyes taking me in. “You’re alright, darlin’. Looking so beautiful too. Oh, how I’ve missed ya.”

I chuckled wetly, but didn’t let the shimmering tears that’d begun to well fall, “Missed you too.” More than she knew. “It feels so mad to be here, I remember bits and pieces but not much.”

“Ah the last time you were ‘ere, ought to’ve been when you were about six. You made a right old mess of this kitchen. Treckin’ in mud and kickin’ your feet. My God, your dad had gone mad- couldnt help his grin though when you’d started singin’ that tune he so loved. What was it again, my darlin’?”

“You Make My Pants Want to Get Up and Dance.” I answered her in a whispered chuckle, the song a vivid reminder of days we’d spent dancing around this very room.

Nana released a sweet laugh and turned to Del, “You remember, don’t you, Del? The pair of ‘em, prattling about the place.”

Aunt Del shared a conspiratorial grin with me, nodding from where she’d taken perch over by the fridge. “Oh yeah. That one Christmas mornin’, it was all that’d been on. Drove me bloody mental.”

“See?” Nana enforced, hand falling to my upper arm, “What I tell ya? Might be gettin’ on a bit but my mind’s still as quick as a whip.”

I smiled, but that was when she finally took note of the giant stood crowding her kitchen doorway. George wore a soft smile that only grew in nervousness when my nan’s gaze sought him out. “And this must be the famous friend!” She teased, already motioning him over. “Come on, love. I don’t bite.”

George blew out a small chuckle and walked over to join us, surprising me when he leaned down to wrap an arm around the petite woman. My Nana smiled proudly and gently squeezed George’s wrist when they pulled apart.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” George assured her, his tone quiet, warm.

“And you, sweetheart.” My Nana spoke, smiling up at him. “But my, ain’t you tall? Remind me a bit of my Charlie, you do. He was a giant too, always dwarfed me in size whenever he took my hand. Only ever saw his tie when we was dancin’, and din’t he just love to complain of a sore neck, bendin’ down to greet me whenever he came home from wherever he’d been.”

I giggled quietly to myself, watching the pair. Enamoured.

“Got those eyes of his too, kind but quick. Too smart for yer own good, ain’t ya sometimes? Trouble finds you.”

George’s eyes glanced over towards me at that and he could only agree. “She does.”

Both my Nana and Aunt Del laughed at that, catching on to his sentiment whilst I just tutted and shook my head. “You’re lucky to have me.”

“Ain’t he just.” Nana confirmed with a dip of her chin, her blue eyes twinkling now beneath the kitchen light. “A right pair you make. Reckon we’ll have a few more stories to tell once you leave.”

“You’ve gone and jinxed it now.” George chuckled teasingly, obviously settling in fine, “Only got yourself to blame.”

Nana clucked her tongue, eyes on Del whilst she motioned her head in G’s direction, “Funny, this one. You hearin’ this too, Del? Quite the joker we have.”

I could only grin and watch on as my seventy-three year old nan cajoled George into the chair beside hers. It quickly fell though when I heard how she was planning to spill a few stories from my childhood to him. And I couldn’t even stop her because Aunt Del was already dragging me back out of the kitchen, claiming she needed help picking up dinner from the local takeaway. George merely sent me a reassuring grin when I’d casted an alarmed glance back over my shoulder, and I felt the anxiety in me fall away.

—

It was a long while after dinner when George and I finally got the first bit of quiet since having left Manchester.

The four of us, being Nana, George, Aunt Del and I, had all camped out in the living-room shortly after Del and I had returned to the house with a couple bags of food- fish and chips actually, from this tiny little shop up on the main road that Del had raved about.

We’d all been more than hungry so we’d been quick settle down. The tele had been stuck straight on, the very same that’d been there a decade prior, and apparently Nana’s preference for game shows hadn’t changed either, so we’d all spaced out around it, not paying much attention to who was winning or losing. Just talking about the things you did with family.

Nana’s dog, Cyril, had plodded in from the upstairs landing as soon as he’d sniffed out the food. He was this big slobbering beast of a thing that I immediately fell in love with. A great bullmastiff with a red and fawn-coloured coat, who’d gone and plopped himself down on the tops of my feet. George had been taken with him too, cooing to him in the armchair opposite and pouting when the dog hardly spared him a glance. Both Nana and Del had chuckled, Aunt Del saying, “Cyril ain’t too fond of men- din’t give dad the time of day when he was home either. Only ever noticed him when he had a lead in his hand.” George had looked determined though.

When the plates had been cleared away, Cyril jumped up on the sofa between Nana and I, he’d sniffed at her leg before she’d shooed him off down my end, and he did as he was told, looking over at me with these big puppy-dog eyes. I’d let him curl up beside me, head in my lap, stroking the scruff of his neck as we continued to catch up, Nana asking after George and his life. She was set on getting to know him.

A couple hours had passed before the older woman had shuffled the pair of us on up the staircase when I’d started yawning though, and Aunt Del said that she’d let Cyril out into the garden before she took off home herself, promising to pop back round the very next day. George had helped tidy the living-room away as I’d said my goodbyes to her, catching Nana in the hallway once the door had closed.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but thank you.” I’d whispered to her in the quiet warmth of the evening light that’d fluttered in. She’d simply taken my hand and gifted me a soft smile in turn.

“You were always welcome here, sweetheart. Just needed you to see it.” Nana had replied, “And anyway, I should be the one thankin’ you. Ain’t had such a lovely time since it was all of us living here together. Feels nice havin’ the house full of people again. And that lad of yours is a real charmer, in’t he? Lovely, lovely boy.”

I’d gone to correct her, mouth halfway agape when she’d just chuckled and pointed a finger up at me. “None of that now. Only known him a couple of hours but I see the way he looks at you, my love.”

It was eerily similar to what Ross had said to me all those weeks before.

“He’s patient too. Bit like your grandfather there. And gentle, which is somethin’ that’s obviously needed when knockin’ about with you. ’Cause don’t think for one second I’ve not noticed the big black eye you’re sporting under that makeup of yours, or the face you pull each time you sit or stand up.”

I’d looked away from her aged eyes, so full of emotion, to hide my guilt. Nana had only grasped my chin though and steered my face back towards her, “But that’s for another time, alright darlin’? You need sleep- must’ve been mental bein’ on all those silly trains. I’ll tell you something now, I never could step on another after the war’d ended, too many reminders, you know?”

Too many reminders. Yeah, that was something I did know.

I’d only nodded silently at her though and the pair of us listened to the quiet murmur George had made when he’d tried once more to make friends with Cyril. Nana had chuckled and squeezed my chin between her fingers before George had stepped out into the hallway to join us, a little surprised to find us there. An apology had been on the tip of his tongue, obviously not having meant to interrupt, but Nana had swiftly cut him off, stating that she’d already made up the spare bed and laid out a few towels for us.

I’d given her cheek a gentle kiss in an unsaid thanks, still so beyond grateful, and George had followed, smiling to himself when he’d bent down for her and the older woman had whispered something in his ear. She’d shooed us on up after quickly after, patting George’s back just as Cyril trotted to stand beside her at the bottom of the stairs. Our light footsteps had trailed all the way up and then across the landing.

So as I’d been saying, the quiet that’d settled upstairs in the far bedroom was something of a reprieve. As much as I’d loved spending time with Nana, Aunt Del, and Cyril too, it was nice to shut the door on all the noise and madness and take a second to just breathe.

The spare bedroom sat at the very front of the house, it looked out onto the street below and homed sash-windows which were currently being illuminated by the evening sun shining through. The floor was made of hardwood, glossy and dark in comparison to the lighter walls that had been panelled with pretty mouldings. A fireplace sat at one end too, directly opposite the bed, it was old, one I’d have to ask Nana about using, but had a delicate vase of lilies sat atop it as well as a brass framed mirror.

My eyes flittered about the space, taking in the ancient radio on the windowsill with its lengthy aerial, the large chest sat at the foot of the bed, as well as the wearing guitar propped up against the wall in the corner. George’s eye caught on that too and he wandered over to it first.

“Belonged to my dad.” I told him as I tiptoed over to the edge of the bed, taking a seat there as my gaze continued to roam. “It was his room, shared it with Del when they were kids but then she took over the downstairs den when she’d hit fourteen. Den’s gone now, think they knocked it through to make more room for the kitchen’s renovation after she moved out.”

George hummed and put the instrument back in its place before spinning on his heel, his gaze trailing between me and the bed.

“You still alright to share?” I asked him, wondering if perhaps he was thinking better of it now. “I could set up the sofa if not.”

Shaking his head, George must’ve shaken off whatever other emotion that’d made him pause because he padded over to join me. “Nah, it’ll be fine.”

His voice was low and as he flopped down onto the mattress beside me I could only smile, thankful for the fact that he hadn’t changed his mind.

“Good.” I responded, grinning over at his slumped form sprawled out on the crisp white sheets, “‘Cause if you can spoon with Matty then you should be alright spending a couple nights shacked up with me.”

George snorted, hands resting on his chest, eyes turned towards the ceiling. “That’s different. We fell asleep on the settee, and he’s a cuddler.”

Still amused by the picture my mind conjured up, I hummed. “And to think you two once hated each other.”

“Wouldn’t say hate. Bit strong there, B.”

I rolled my eyes before glancing down at the spot beside him, silently deliberating. George must’ve noticed because he took my hand in his and tugged me down, laughing when I yelped in surprise.

We stayed there for a short while in silence, his fingers grazing gently at my arm, both of us listening to the heavy paws of Cyril on the stairs and the cars that passed by outside.

He inhaled a little deeper, “How you feeling then?”

I turned my head against the sheets to peer up at him. “Being here?” I questioned him and he nodded, “I feel good. Tired, but good. Happy. Didn’t realise home could feel like this, you know?”

George blew out a breath and scooted a little closer, close enough to drape an arm across the space above my head and come to rest on his side. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

I knew what he meant. He wanted to talk about that night.

I raised my good shoulder in a shrug. “Not much to say. I hope he rots in a cell for a bit though, ‘cause we both know they’ll let him back out soon enough.”

George’s jaw tightened at my words but his eyes stayed soft, locked on me. “Well I hope he finds a decent cliff and takes a dive off it.”

I shot him a look. “G..”

He shrugged, uncaring, but the gentle touch of his fingers tangling themselves into my hair was anything but. “Ain’t gonna lie to you, Birdie. He deserves worse. I-” His eyes slipped closed as he took a breath to calm himself, “Look, I can’t take back what happened. Turn back time and all that just to erase it all. But I can make sure that it never happens again.”

“You can’t be sure though, George. That’s not how life works.” I murmured into the quiet that followed his solemn assurance.

“Well it’s how it’s gonna have to work.” Was all that he replied to me. Ever so stubborn.

His eyes were still closed, that familiar warmth of his sheltered behind fluttering lids, I reached out to trail my fingers across them and then down the bridge of his nose. “This okay?”

He hummed sweetly, mouth twitching when my fingertips traced its curve. He was always so close, only ever a breath away, but even now it felt like we were toeing at invisible lines, both of us too afraid to make that jump.

“I like your nan.” He told me then and I huffed out a small chuckle at the unexpected revelation. “Del too.” He added.

“I’m glad.” I replied with a soft smile of my own, staring down at him even as he blinked his eyes back open. They roamed the entirety of my face, taking in every detail.

“They remind me of you.”

My smile broadened, pleased to hear that. “Oh yeah?”

George hummed a low confirmation. “You want to know what your Nana to me said as we were headin’ up?”

My eyes flickered up to meet his whilst I trailed over a constellation of freckles on his cheek. “What?”

He chuckled deeply, grin wrinkling his nose. “She said, run her a bath, will you? And keep the noise down if you ever do get the balls to make a move.”

A sharp laugh escaped me, eyes wide and alive. “I swear, she’s an actual menace.”

George smirked lazily, “Right though.”

I blinked, all humour suddenly lost as I stared back at him.

“Right about what?” I asked him quietly, heart in my throat.

His hand stilled in my hair and he knocked his forehead against my own, our noses brushed just above the sheets and he gifted me the sweetest smile. “This.” He whispered back, right before he titled his head and grazed his lips against mine.

—

I’d been on a high all morning. Having woken up in George’s arms under a stream of sunlight.

There’d been a light scuffle out in the hallway, probably Nana getting up to let Cyril out, and I’d laid there listening to the gentle song of the birds outside as well as George’s quiet breathing. He looked different in this light, lashes casting dark shadows across his apples of his cheeks and lips poutier than I’d ever seen them. It’d been struggle not to reach out.

Instead, I’d reluctantly slipped from his grasp when the urge to use the loo became too much to bare and decided to finally have that bath Nana had suggested last night whilst I waited for him to wake.

Yesterday had honestly been everything I’d been waiting for. With George I just felt so safe, so… loved. Was that a strange way to feel? Maybe it was. But I didn’t care, I thought about it though as I let the steam from the water engulf me, the heat of it doing wonders for my aching bones.

We hadn’t gone any further than kissing. Though if he had tried to cop a feel I wouldn’t of denied him. He was rather sweet about the whole thing actually and we’d spent the time afterwards shooting each other coy smiles as we got ready for bed.

I pulled myself up out of the tub once my hands had begun to wrinkle, hating the feel of it. I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and combed through my hair once my feet had dampened the bath mat, but groaned when I realised I’d forgotten to grab some clothes beforehand.

Wiggling my jaw as I clasped my bottom lip between my forefinger and thumb, I contemplated just heading back out into the bedroom. George was probably still asleep and I could simply roll my suitcase back in here without waking him.

Yeah, that sounded like the best option.

So I took a deep breath as I silently slipped out of the bathroom and across the landing into the shared room. I was in for the shock of my life though when I spotted George sat up in bed, duvet pooled around his hips as he rubbed tiredly at his eye. His head turned towards me when he heard the handle lift and he stilled in his movements.

I must’ve looked a right picture, frozen in the doorway with my gob halfway to the floor, and I watched a slow but obvious smirk creep across George’s features as he dropped his arm to get a good old look at me.

I narrowed my eyes in retort and feigned as much confidence as I possibly could with his eyes stuck on me, before I made my way over to where my suitcase was sat. “It’s rude to stare, you know.”

George laughed, it was a gruff and low sound, littered with sleep. “Just wonderin’ if I’m still dreamin’- nice sight to wake up to ’s all.”

I scoffed out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle, “Oh yeah, black eyes get you going, do they?”

“On you? Anything would.”

I flushed at his comment and dropped down to hide it as I worked my way through the pile of clothes I had in my case, gripping the top of my towel.

“Who are you and what have you done with George?” I tossed the question over my shoulder, still feeling his eyes on me. “‘Cause the real George would never act this shameless.”

I could feel his shrug ripple throughout the room. “Teenage boy. Besides, you know I’m the real deal ‘cause when have I ever lied to you?”

My tongue was in my cheek as I shifted through a few tops, he wasn’t wrong there. “I just forgot to grab some clothes before I jumped in the bath. Thought you’d still be asleep.”

“Woke up just before you came in.”

I hummed. Talk about timing.

“You sleep alright?” He asked and I could hear him shuffling about now behind me. I wanted to take a peek, see what he was up to, but focused on grabbing what I needed instead.

What had he asked again? Oh, “Um, yeah actually.” Best one I’d had in weeks, if we were being painfully honest. “You?”

“Knackered after that journey yesterday but I stayed up a bit after you passed out.” George replied and I jumped ever so slightly when I felt him drape his arms over my shoulders, chin resting against the side of my head. “You look angelic even when you snore.”

I elbowed him lightly and shook my head. “I don’t snore, you knob.”

“Oh but you do.” George chuckled roughly, “Sounds a bit like this.”

He then proceeded to make horrible snoring sounds in my ear, making me cringe and forcing me to wiggle out of his grasp to escape them. “Ah don’t do that! It makes me feel all bleh.” I shivered to exaggerate the feeling whilst he simply laughed.

“What?” He exclaimed teasingly, “That’s what I had to deal with, all night!”

I chucked the top I’d been holding at him. “Idiot. And to think I let you kiss me.”

A beat passed between us and I feared I’d fucked things by bringing it up. I casted a nervous glance at him when I went to try and retrieve a hoodie or something like it.

“Surprised you broke first. Was betting that I’d have to.” George told me, wearing a lopsided grin, he walked over to the duffle that was laid open by the dresser and grabbed at a grey sweatshirt. “Here’re have this.”

I glanced down at it, then back up at his face. I took it carefully, “Thanks.”

He hummed and moved back towards the duffle to find some clothes of his own to wear.

I was then reminded of what he’d just said, “Hang on, you made a bet with yourself?”

George shot me a toothy grin, “‘You don’t do that?”

I shrugged, unsure. Hadn’t really thought about it. “So, we’re still okay then? You know-”

“After you kissed me?” He teased and I scowled.

“After you kissed me, you mean.”

“Whatever you say, Birdie. But I ‘spose we’ll never truly know.” He was being a twat.

“You’re being a twat.” I told him rightly, but unable to help my light chuckle, “You know you kissed me first.”

He hummed, unconvinced.

“G!” I complained but he merely laughed before waving me off.

“Go get changed, will you?”

“Why?” I challenged him, a bundle of clothes tucked up under my arm. “I’m rather alright as I am, thanks.”

“‘Cause you’re driving me half mad stood there like that.” He quipped back with a hand extended out towards me, “Besides, your nan will come looking if neither one of us turns up to breakfast.”

I grinned, “Reckon I’m that easy do you, Georgie?”

He paused and stopped his riffling to meet my gaze head-on. “No, I just know that if you’d let me I’d spend as long as I could admiring every part of you.”

Pursing my lips to fight my smile, I said, “Nana was right about another thing.”

George titled his head at me, sporting a pleased grin. “And what would that be?”

“You, George Daniel, are a right charmer.”

He snorted with a roll of his eyes then turned back to his duffle. “You love it.” He snarked back, sounding sure.

And he had every right to be, because that was one of the many things I loved about him.

Part Twenty-five>

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