#sister!reader

[iinsertblognamee]

'Intro'

[STUDIO; WHITE BACKGROUND, YN & CAITLIN SITTING BEHIND A TABLE WITH TWO DUFFLE BAGS IN FRONT OF THEM - YN LEANING BACK, LAUGHING - CAITLIN LEANING ONTO YN LAUGHING]

YN FOORD (LAUGHING); Give me that! (PULLING OUT A SIGNED 'CAITLIN FOORD, NUMBER NINE' MATILDAS JERSEY OUT OF CAITLIN'S DUFFLE BAG) Oh my God. (SHOWING THE CAMERA, BEFORE THROWING IT BACK AT CAITLIN) Put it on.

CAITLIN FOORD (LAUGHING, TAKING THE JERSEY OFF YN); I don't know who put this in my bag because-

YN FOORD; -You did! Bloody love ya self don't ya.

(CAITLIN LAUGHING, AS SHE SHAKES HER HEAD AND HER RIGHT HAND)

YN FOORD (LOOKS DIRECTLY AT THE CAMERA); Can you believe what I have to put up with (POINTING AT CAITLIN, SHAKING HER HEAD) Bloody ridiculous.

[SCREEN, YN AND CAITLIN FOORD, SITTING BEHIND A TABLE WITH TWO DUFFLE BAGS IN FRONT OF THEM AND LOOKING AT THE CAMERA]

YN FOORD; Hello, I'm Yn Foord (LOOKS RIGHT, AT CAITLIN)

CAITLIN FOORD; I'm Caitlin Foord

YN FOORD & CAITLIN FOORD; And this is our kit bag.

(TURNING TO EACH OTHER, CLAPPING EACH OTHERS HAND)

YN FOORD; Look at us go!

CAITLIN FOORD; Absolute animals.

'Shoes'

[SCREEN, PLAYING CLIPS OF YN AND CAITLIN FOORD AT CAMP FOR THE MATILDAS - SCREEN, YN PULLING OUT SHOES FROM HER DUFFLE BAG]

YN FOORD; Shoes.

[CAITLIN PULLS SHOES OUT OF HER DUFFLE BAG]

CAITLIN FOORD; Shoes.

YN FOORD; Love me some great shoes.

CAITLIN FOORD; Oh yeah. Definitely.

YN FOORD (NODDING TOWARDS CAITLIN'S SHOES IN HER HAND); I see you've copied me with the white shoes.

CAITLIN FOORD; I- (LAUGHING) What? God, you're annoying.

YN FOORD (RAISING HER EYEBROWS, SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS); I'm telling mum you said that.

(CAITLIN FOORD LOOKING AT THE SCREEN WITH HER MOUTH OPEN, 'SHOCKED')

YN FOORD; ANYWAY. Moving on. Shoes, can't really go wrong I guess. I have about five pairs that I just rotate, (LOOKING AT CAITLIN) How many pairs of shoes would you say you have Miss Foord?

CAITLIN FOORD; Um. I don't really know if I wanna say that out loud. Too many. Too many to remember.

YN FOORD; Come on. We all know you know how many you have.

(CAITLIN SHAKING HER HEAD)

YN FOORD (HER HANDS HITTING THE TABLE IN A RYTHME); Tell us. Tell us. Tell us.

CAITLIN FOORD; Ugh! Fine. Like thirty? Forty? I don't know.

(YN LOOKING AT CAITLIN WITH WIDE EYES AND HER MOUTH OEPN, BEFORE SLOWLY TURNING TOWARDS THE CAMERA)

YN FOORD; Forty pairs of shoes?! What on earth do you need forty pairs of shoes for? (CAITLIN OPENS HER MOUTH TO TALK BUT YN CUTS HER OFF) -Nah, nah. I actually can't believe that. That's wild man. Absolutely wild.

'Headphones'

[SCREEN, CAITLIN PULLING OUT HEADPHONES FROM HER DUFFLE BAG]

CAITLIN FOORD; Headphones.

(YN FOORD PULLING HEADPHONES FROM HER DUFFLE BAG)

YN FOORD (SINGING); Headphones!

CAITLIN FOORD (LOOKING AT YN'S HEADPHONES); Yours are so dirty.

YN FOORD (LOOKING OFFENDED); You're dirty. Shut up.

CAITLIN FOORD; Real mature. And you're meant to be the older one out of the two of us?

YN FOORD (MIMICKING); And you're meant to be the older one. Shut up. No one likes you.

CAITLIN FOORD (CAITLIN LAUGHING BEFORE TURNING HER ATTENTION BACK TO THE SCREEN); Headphones. A definite must on camp (SHOWING THE SCREEN, AND THAN YN HER HEADPHONES) I thought I bought noise-cancelling ones, but I didn't so. Guess that's that.

YN FOORD (MUTTERING UNDER HER BREATH); Ha. Loser. (MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH CAITLIN, BEFORE BOTH BURST INTO LAUGHTER)

(OFF SCREEN) UNKNOWN VOICE; What kind of music is normally played in camps?

YN FOORD (LOOKING AT CAITLIN, BEFORE LOOKING PAST THE CAMERA); Um, kinda depends on who has the speaker.

CAITLIN FOORD; Yeah. I feel like we mostly all have the same kind of music, but sometimes when we lose Lydia will put on like 'saddest songs mix' and we all just kinda sit in the bus staring at the window contemplating all our live choices.

YN FOORD (LAUGHING); Oh god. Bloody Lydia and her sad songs. We'll be like turn it off and she just turns the volume up louder. (YN MIMICKING LYDIA TURNING THE SPEAKER VOLUME UP, PRETENDING TO LOOK OUT A WINDOW WITH A SORROW LOOK ON HER FACE) And we're all just sitting there watching her in her feels.

CAITLIN FOORD; In her feels?

YN FOORD (SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS); Yeah I don't know Kyra taught me that.

CAITLIN FOORD; Of course she did.

(OFF SCREEN) UNKNOWN VOICE; What's the fan favourite song currently?

YN FOORD; Ooo. Good question. Um, Strawberry Kisses has been making its way up the ranks lately. Steph loves loves loves that song.

CAITLIN FOORD; You know she never plays it at arsenal

YN FOORD (LAUGHING); It's only allowed at the matildas. Nowhere else.

'Caitlin's Secret Item'

[SCREEN, YN LOOKING INTO CAITLIN'S DUFFLE BAG - YN LEANING BACK, LAUGHING - CAITLIN LEANING ONTO YN LAUGHING]

YN FOORD (LAUGHING); Give me that! (PULLING OUT A SIGNED 'CAITLIN FOORD, NUMBER NINE' MATILDAS JERSEY OUT OF CAITLIN'S DUFFLE BAG) Oh my God. (SHOWING THE CAMERA, BEFORE THROWING IT BACK AT CAITLIN) Put it on.

CAITLIN FOORD (LAUGHING, TAKING THE JERSEY OFF YN); I don't know who put this in my bag because-

YN FOORD; -You did! Bloody love ya self don't ya.

(CAITLIN LAUGHING, AS SHE SHAKES HER HEAD AND HER RIGHT HAND)

YN FOORD (LOOKS DIRECTLY AT THE CAMERA); Can you believe what I have to put up with (POINTING AT CAITLIN, SHAKING HER HEAD) Bloody ridiculous.

(CAITLIN PUTS THE JERSEY ON, PUFFING HER CHEST WHILST LOOKING AT THE CAMERA WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE)

YN FOORD (LAUGHING, PUSHING CAITLIN'S ARM); Oh my god. She loves herself.

CAITLIN FOORD (SMOOTHING HER JERSEY); This one is actually for my mum. I know how much she likes to wear jerseys of good football players.

YN FOORD (CHOKING); Excuse you. Mum won't have time to wear that junk when she's too busy wearing MY jersey.

CAITLIN FOORD: You're dreaming mate. No chance.

YN FOORD: Oh yeah. You wanna know how confident I am that she'll wear my jersey.

CAITLIN FOORD; Tell us then. How confident are you?

YN FOORD (PULLING OUT HER PHONE FROM HER POCKET, THE DIAL TONE STARTING TO RING). Imma call her.

(PHONE RINGS FOR THREE DIALS BEFORE PICKING UP)

SIMONE FOORD (THROUGH THE PHONE); Hello Lovie?

YN FOORD (SMILING); Hi mum, how you going?

SIMONE FOORD; Nothing much, can't complain. How'd the media day go with Cait?

CAITLIN FOORD; We're in the middle of one now, hi mum!

SIMONE FOORD; Hi sweetheart, how are yo- (YN FOORD CUTTING HER OFF)

YN FOORD; -yeah mum, she's fine. Question. At the World Cup who's jersey are you going to wear? Mine or adopted over here?

SIMONE FOORD; My Alanna Kennedy jersey just arrived in the mail this morning. I tried to get one for Mackenzie but they don't sell hers. How ridiculous.

YN & CAITLIN FOORD (WHINING); Mum!

SIMONE FOORD; Anyway I'll leave you two girls to it. Love you both lots and lots. Be nice to each other. Bye! (PHONE CLICKS OFF)

'Boots'

[SCREEN, YN LOOKING AT CAITLIN PULL OUT HER BOOTS FROM HER DUFFLE BAG]

CAITLIN FOORD; Boots.

YN FOORD; Yeah, we got some new boots for the World Cup. Very exciting. (LOOKING AT CAITLIN'S BOOTS, BEFORE PICKING ONE UP) I like yours, they're really nice.

CAITLIN FOORD; Thank you.

YN FOORD (LAUGHING, SHAKING HER HEAD); Thank you? Bloody hell. You are such a dork sometimes, you know that right?

CAITLIN FOORD; Um. (BOTH GIRLS BREAKING INTO LAUGHTER AGAIN)

'Notebook'

[SCREEN, YN PULLING A NOTEBOOK OUT OF HER DUFFLE BAG]

CAITLIN FOORD (SPEAKING AT THE SAME TIME AS YN); Oop. Look at you, you nerd. YN FOORD (SPEAKING AT THE SAME TIME AS CAITLIN); This is my notebook for learning Spanish.

YN FOORD (LAUGHING WITH CAITLIN, SHAKING HER HEAD); Shut up. (CAITLIN PICKING THE NOTEBOOK OUT OF YN'S HANDS). But yeah, that's my notebook that I used to learn Spanish because I'm supposed to be able to speak it.

CAITLIN FOORD (FLIPPING THROUGH THE NOTEBOOK, SHOWING YN A PAGE, AS THEY BOTH LAUGH); Didn't realise it was art class too?

YN FOORD; Yeah, sometimes I get bored, (LAUGHING) so I just kinda draw instead. It's really bad, actually. I should probably stop doing that so much.

CAITLIN FOORD (TRYING TO READ ONE OF THE PAGES); Hola, my. my. (LOOKS AT YN, BOTH LAUGHING) mi nombre es Caitlin?

YN FOORD; Good! (CLAPPING HER HANDS) Hola, mi nombre es Yn. es muy bonito conocerte. 'Hello, my name is YN. it's very nice to meet you'.

CAITLIN FOORD; Hola, mi nombre es Caitlin. (BEAMING AT THE CAMERA ONCE SHE FINISHES)

YN FOORD; There you go! Maybe I can teach you some Spanish during the World Cup.

'Goodbyes!'

[SCREEN, YN AND CAITLIN FOORD, SITTING BEHIND A TABLE WITH TWO DUFFLE BAGS IN FRONT OF THEM AND LOOKING AT THE CAMERA]

YN FOORD; Well there you have it, that's our World Cup kit bag essentials. (YN FOORD GRABBING THE DISCARDED 'CAITLIN FOORD JERSEY' AND THROWING IT AT CAITLIN) Some of us packing absolutely rubbish, but hey. It's a no-judgment zone down under so.

CAITLIN FOORD (SNORTING); no-judgement my ass.

YN FOORD; and with that, it's time to say goodbye! (WAVING AT THE CAMERA) Bye!

CAITLIN FOORD; Bye! (TURNING TO YN, SLAPPING HER ARM) um. oh. adiós! 'goodbye'.

YN FOORD (LOOKING OVER, SMILE ON HER FACE); Hey! Look at you go. (LOOKING BACK AT THE CAMERA WAVING, CAITLIN JOINING IN) adiós! 'goodbye'.

inspired by; lucy bronze & jordan nobbs reveal their world cup kit bag essentials

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics #auswnt x reader #sister!reader #foord!reader #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord

[lonelywitchv2]

Strawberries

summary: it’s safe to say you didn’t expect company when you snuck out for a picnic with Regulus, your relationship more forbidden than the forest itself.

content: the marauders basically being your older brothers after you grew up next door to the Potters, protective and angry James and Sirius, Sirius and Regulus still being on bad terms, fluff turned slight angst, short, food, teasing, mentions of Sirius and Regulus’ parents 

wc: 587 (just a little blurb)

part ii part iii

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“So you’ve never read Pride and Prejudice?” You asked, almost offended by your discovery.

“No. Do you happen to remember that my parents are blood supremacists who forbade me from reading muggle literature?” Regulus responded.

“Okay, maybe I forgot. Either way, this is unacceptable. Reggie, it appears we have found our next book to read.” You announced, picking up a strawberry that Regulus had been reaching for.

“Oi! I was gonna grab that one!” He exclaimed, trying to reach for the red fruit, only to have you pull your arm away from him.

“You snooze, you lose,” You said with a shake of your head.

However, right as you went to bite into the sweet berry, Regulus tackled you, his body hovering over yours and your wrists pinned against the picnic blanket laid on the grass.

Throughout being tackled, you somehow managed to continue your hold on the strawberry, refusing to yield to him.

“You could’ve just asked to split it and I would’ve done it, love,” You pointed out, cocking your eyebrow.

“Well, this is much more fun. Isn’t it?” Regulus’s voice dropped to a whisper, his face lowering closer and closer to yours.

“It is…” You breathed out, lifting your head up until Regulus’s lips were pressed against yours, his hair brushing against your forehead.

The blissful silence was broken by a loud shout.

“What the hell is this?!” Sirius yelled, causing the two sixteen-year-olds to quickly break apart, scrambling to opposite sides of the blanket with their eyes wide in horror, the strawberry long forgotten.

You opened your mouth to respond but faltered at the rage burning in Sirius’s eyes.

“What is it Padfo- what in Merlin’s name is going on here?!” James’s eyes fell upon the sight of Regulus and you, his big brother mode immediately activating.

All words of defense and explanation quickly disappeared from your tongue, unsure of how to respond to the obvious rage emitting from the two boys.

“James, Sirius, I... I can explain- we can explain, please-” You stuttered out, struggling to get any words out of your mouth as your panic set in.

“No. No, c’mon Y/N, we’re leaving,” James said, his voice as firm as his grip on your arm as he pulled you off of the blanket, glaring at Regulus and dragging you away from the Black brothers- one of which was frozen in horror, the other seething with rage.

“Y/N-!” Regulus called out, going to stand before falling back from a shove from Sirius.

“What the fuck, Regulus?!” Sirius exclaimed, “Why her? Out of every girl in this school, you chose the one who’s like a little sister to me- is it to get back at me for leaving?”

“It’s not that, Sirius- I…” Regulus faltered.

“What? Spit it out!”

"Listen, I... I really like Y/N- really like her. Please, I'm not doing this out of vengeance, Sirius. I wouldn't even think about hurting Y/N! Siri… I’m not lying to you, I swear," Regulus stuttered out, the childhood nickname accidentally slipping off his tongue, "It's... real and I've never experienced anything like it before.”

“Godric… I just don’t…” Sirius paused, chewing on his lip, “I can’t do this right now.”

Sirius turned around for a moment, but turned to face his brother once more, “We aren’t done, Regulus. But this? This is.”

Regulus sat there speechless as his brother jogged to catch up to James and you, looking down to see the red strawberry sitting on the blanket, miraculously untouched.

#regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #marauders x reader #marauders #harry potter #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #sirius black x platonic!reader #james potter x platonic!reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #sister!reader #hogwarts #love you #~°~ miranda ~°~

[aurora-starwars]

Oh my gosh your requests are open! I’m so hyped. Can I maybe request like a Dad! Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader where reader is just so much like Tsu’tey, stubborn and always spites him but they still get along? I can picture Jake missing his na’vi brother and his daughter is just him all over again. I mostly think of Ghost by Justin Bieber to be Jake trying to relive the short time that him and Tsu’tey get along.

Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Daughter!reader (platonic)

Summary: Jake can’t stop seeing Tsu’tey in his oldest daughter

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentioned violence, like one or two curse words

Word Bank: Kuru - Neural Queue; Olo'eyktan - Leader of the clan; Ikran - banshee, large flying animal; Iknimaya - rite of passage for the Omatikaya; Omatikaya - na’vi clan on Pandora; Pa’li - direhorse, horse like animal; skxawng - moron, idiot;

A/n: It has been a while, and for that I am truely sorry, life just kept sweeping me away. But I enjoyed writing this! Thank you for requesting! Please enjoy!!!!!!! <333333333333

Masterlist

As soon as she was born, her yellow eyes seemed to pierce Jake Sully’s just as Tsu’tey’s used to.

 Born alongside Neteyam, [Name] bore the distinct features of the Na’vi. Kuru starting at the top of her head, prominent lack of eyebrow, three fingers. All features he should associate with his mate, Neytiri, the mother of the twins. But as Jake watches her grow, he can’t help but see his fallen Na’vi brother.

Jake thought it would fade away, that it was something from his past haunting him and his daughter didn’t actually look like the reincarnate of Tsu’tey at all. Besides, if he were to see Tsu’tey in anyone, surely it would be his remarkably Na’vi son, who bore many of the same traits of his sister. But as they grew, Jake and Neytiri both could see just how similar [Name] and Tsu’tey actually were.

It started early, when they were teaching Neteyam, Kiri, and [Name] to walk, a fairly simple and necessary step for any child. This didn’t stop little [Name], who was a little less than a year old, from being stubborn. Neytiri and Jake started by holding their arms, lifting them up onto their feet so that they could stand. When they could stand, they would let go, moving away slightly in hopes they would follow. The ‘they’ was just Kiri and Neteyam. When they tried to help [Name], she only swatted her hand away and pouted, giving the most hateful glare one could receive.

Regretfully, Jake laughed at this, earning a smack to the shoulder from Neytiri. How could he not have though? [Name] looked just like Tsu’tey like that, acted like him too. Jake smiled fondly at his oldest daughter, who soon after tried to stand on her own, feeling left out from her siblings.

Another time Jake saw Tsu’tey in [Name] was when he was teaching [Name] and Neteyam how to hunt. They weren’t very old, five or six max, and they still had a lot of learning to do. This, however, did not stop [Name] from trying to teach Neteyam how to use a bow, despite hardly knowing how to use one herself. It was day three of teaching the kids and [Name] was on Neteyam’s back about his posture. She kept hitting his belly, telling him that he had to tighten his muscles, hitting his arm, telling him to raise his elbow. While she was right, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, how many times did Tsu’tey mock and criticize his form? Too many to count.

By the time Jake came to the present, Neteyam had half-heartedly thrown his bow down, huffing in frustration before running up to Jake and hugging his leg.

“[Name] is making fun of me!” Neteyam’s weak voice whined.

“It’s not my fault you suck!” [Name] laughed, her small hands on her hips.

Ever since then, [Name] seemed to beat out Neteyam in every subject. In skill, she beat all of the young warriors her age. She was quickly becoming one of the best warriors of her age, of the clan! Jake was more than proud. Proud of not only his daughter’s success, but just how Na’vi she has become. Na’vi, just like the most Na’vi person he knew.

Tsu’tey.

No matter where she went, [Name] would always remind Jake of Tsu’tey. Remind him of when they got along. And when they didn’t.

Like the day after her Iknimaya.

Jake knew he shouldn’t be worried, she wouldn’t be alone, and yet he did not want her to go out riding ikran with her friends. Her friends where nice kids, all warriors like her, that he has taught, but she just bonded with her ikran, the bond was new, and he did not trust [Name]’s ikran just yet. He remembers Bob, it took a few days, at least a week for them to completely trust each other. He did not want [Name]’s ikran to get spooked by something and leave her for dead.

[Name] did not take this news very well.

She was just leaving their family home, a wide smile on her face, when Jake stopped her. He knew she was so excited to attempt her Iknimaya and was even more proud to have successfully bonded with her own ikran. That is why he was not surprised to see her smile fall, her ears pin back, and shoulders slump.

“What? Why?” she wasn’t unreasonable, if her father had a good reason, she would respect his commands.

“Baby girl, I have said you cannot go, do not argue with me,” unfortunately Jake was not great at communicating.

[Name] gave him a piercing glare, shooting daggers that seemed to wound Jake immediately. But he could not show it, would not show it. He is the Olo'eyktan, he must act like it.

But does not stop the pained look that washes over his face once she had walked away.

Later that night, Neytiri scolded him lightly for preventing [Name] from enjoying time kids her age for once, instead of taking care of her siblings or training. While Jake was still apprehensive about the situation, feeling as if his fears were justified, he felt his rules might have been too strict this time.

It was good timing for this resolution because not even an hour later, [Name] arrived back to the family hut, having been gone all night riding her ikran with her friends.

Jake stood up immediately, making his way to the entrance of their home, waiting for [Name]’s eyes to meet his. When they did, [Name] seemed to have more composure than him, he almost felt threatened by her eyes. As if he was the one to do something wrong, not her.

“Where have you been? I thought you were with your siblings?” Jake was more than confused, was she not just sleeping in her room with her siblings?

“Dad, we both knew where I was, no need to do this,” she did not seem angry, but she did stand her ground like the grown warrior she was becoming.

“Do not worry, Father. I have been watching the others,” Neteyam remarks, walking out of the Sully kid’s shared room.

He lays a hand on his father’s shoulder, “If anyone can go out alone on ikran and be fine, it is my sister. If anything, she was protecting the others, and you know they fight well.”

Jake smiles at his son, patting the hand on his shoulder. Jake nods, looking down as if thinking before looking back up at his daughter. He smiles at her, extending a hand, an invitation.

Her piercing gaze drops, her smile reaching her face again as she breaks out into a warm laugh, taking her father’s hand. Jake pulls his daughter and son closer, bringing them into his chest, where they rest their heads.

Later that night, all Jake can think about is how [Name] seemed just like Tsu’tey in that moment.

Tsu’tey patted Jake on the back, a harsh sort of pat, one you would give if you secretly wanted to do harm to the other.

“Jakesully, you do not understand our ways, you will never be one of us,” as much as his words sounded serious, with the smile on his face and the light tone in his voice told Jake that this was more affectionate than hostile.

Jake aimed his bow again, taking in a deep breath, eyes locking onto the makeshift target. He sucked in his stomach, raised his elbow and let go.

“Ah, pretty good,” Tsu’tey nodded, looking at the bulleye. “For a dreamwalker,” he teased, playfully smacking Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noted Tsu’tey’s smile was light, out of character for the Na’vi who usually wore a piercing glare around him. The smile was unusual but welcomed and only helped Jake prove to himself that he was, in face, becoming one of the people.

But what really sealed the deal for Jake, was when he assigned Lo’ak, Neteyam, and [Name] as look out for Lo’ak’s first mission.

He only let Lo’ak join because he had become awfully annoying with his pestering. Always on about how if [Name] and Neteyam could go, why couldn’t he? Jake figured that Lo’ak would lose interest or get too scared to do anymore if he let him join. How wrong he was.

Lo’ak was a pain in the ass as always, and Neteyam and [Name] were doing their best to keep him inline. The whole way to the checkpoint was full of non-stop chatter and jokes about how he was going to destroy the RDA, how he was going to beat them all up all on his own. [Name] though her eyes might get stuck with the amount her eyes would roll.

“Lo’ak, shut your damn mouth or I will tell mum what you keep in that basket in our room,” [Name] practically barks.

Lo’ak goes quiet, and [Name] can see the purple of his cheeks, even from where she is on her ikran. Neteyam smiles at her, and she takes that as a thanks.

The problem came when they arrived at the checkpoint, bombs went off, the train went off track, and Lo’ak decided he wanted a piece of the action, diving his ikran in the direction of the pa’li riders.

[Name] just held her hand up at Neteyam, telling him to keep on look out, and she dove to join her youngest brother.

When she landed, she found Lo’ak holding a gun, letting out a battle cry.

“Lo’ak!” [Name] came running, eyes dark and her ears pinned, straight for Lo’ak.

“Put that thing down,” she ordered, shoving the gun into someone else’s arms. “Today is not the day to be a skxawng, let’s go,” [Name] grabbed him by the ear and dragged him back to his ikran.

Jake watched this from where he was stationed, feeling a glimmer of pride for his daughter in his chest and a sparkle of deep annoyance for his son. But he was left little time to think before Neteyam warned him of an incoming RDA aircraft.

When they made it back to base, the three young warriors lined up, all three practically unscathed but their sisters still came and checked on them.

Jake looked into his eldest daughter’s eyes, he saw a warrior, a warrior that cared for her loved ones, one that did not take BS. He saw Tsu’tey. His na’vi brother. He looked into her eyes, yellow eyes filled with focus and determination, and he brought his hand from his forehead downwards in a smooth motion.

“I see you, daughter.”

Master-list

A/n: Thank you so much for reading! My requests are open so please feel free to request! <3333333

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @adrunkskeletonsduck @luvlykrispy @tainted-artist4161 @gamorxa @valentineheartzz @nighttimemoonlover

#aurora-starwars #x reader #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar movie #star wars #sully family x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam #twin #twins #twin!reader #sister!reader #daughter!reader #thank you for reading #sorry if it is not good #trying to get back into writing #avatar has been on my mind #avatar frontiers of pandora is so good #i have played so much of that damn game i feel like i know so much about na'vi culture #jake sully x reader #avatar 2022 #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar neteyam #atwow neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar twow

[sunflower-lilac42]

✧ 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 & 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 || hughes brothers ♔

album & song: 'more taylor' ; safe and sound (taylor's version)

summary: being sick calls for an immense amount of comfort frmo her brothers, so she’s upset when she gets sick again and they’re not there… well for long

pairings: hughes brothers x sister!reader

warnings: sick, throwing up, coughing up blood, blood, hospitals

published date: 12/17/23

notes: the second fic of the nhl x ts series! i couldn't help myself when i saw this so i had to write as fast as possible. i'm working on hey baby next, promise. also, i know this has the red album cover but because it's from the hunger games i just classified it as 'more taylor'. and as usual, anything hughes brothers i put my heart and soul into so i hope you guys enjoy this one. the grin is real. and if you're wondering, y/n got her nickname 'baby bear' because everyone always calls quinn 'huggy bear' and she's the baby and she's so much like quinn so 'baby bear' it was. add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

more taylor masterlist | nhl x ts masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

'I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here alone But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight'

She was five when she got severely sick the first time and she was terrified. She woke up feeling warm and cold at the same time, her throat was scratchy and dry, and her eyes were watery but she didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if it was just a reaction, and her energy was slim to nonexistent which was scared Ellen and Jim.

By now, their sons would’ve scooped the youngest child out of her bedroom and made their way downstairs to watch something on TV or just play with her. Yet, it was dead silent in the house. Ellen got up from the bed and peeked into each of her son’s rooms and realized to find that they were just asleep still. 

She hoped the same for her daughter but when she walked into the room and saw her five-year-old in tears sitting on her bed, she rushed over.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Mommy!” She let out a loud cry alarming Jim and he came rushing in as well, not noticing the eldest Hughes child in tow. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m here, your brothers are still sleeping, let’s not wake them up. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.” She sniffled and quieted her voice.

Ellen picked her up and placed her daughter on her lap as she sat down, “Jim go get the-” 

Before she even finished, y/n leaned over and threw up, trying not to get it on Ellen, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, hon. Jim go get the thermometer.”

Jim quickly walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom but got stopped as he ran into his son, “Quinn! Morning.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Your sister’s sick, it’s probably nothing.”

Quinn’s face went pale, “Is she okay? Does she have a fever? Is she throwing up?”

“Quinn! Calm down. I promise you, it’s probably just a little cold. You can go see her if you want, Mom is in there with her.”

Quinn walked into the room to see Ellen hugging y/n. He took one step and Ellen turned to him, “Hi, Quinn.”

“How is she?”

“It’s most likely just a cold. Y/n/n, look who’s here.” She directed her head to her son and pointed to him, “Quinny!”

She reached her arms out for him and Quinn gladly took her, placing her on his hip, “Hi baby bear.”

“I no feel good, Quinny.” Quinn nodded his head, “I know but we’re gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Jim walked back into the room, placing the thermometer under the girl’s tongue. Seconds later it beeped and Jim took it out of her mount, “40.6/104”

The parents sigh and start to walk out, “Quinn if you don’t mind can you get her ready quickly, we’re gonna need to go to the hospital.”

Quinn nodded his head and he walked over to his sister’s closet, “Whatcha wanna wear, sweetheart?” Y/n lazily pointed to her brown bear sweatshirt and snuggled her head back into her brother’s chest. Quinn got her ready and sat her on her bed so he could put her shoes on. 

“Quinny?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Of course, not y/n/n. I’m never going to let you go.”

Jack and Luke had both heard the rustling from outside their rooms and they both stepped out into the hallway, “What’s going on?”

Jack shrugged, “No clue, bro. I’m so tired.” The boy saw his sister’s door open and walked in there.

By now, Quinn was sitting on her bed and y/n was lying in his arms, “What’s going on?”

“She’s sick.” Jack and Luke immediately wake up at the news and rush over, spitting out questions left and right.

“She’s got a fever but that’s all I know right now. Mom and Dad are taking her to the hospital.”

“The hospital?!”

“I wanna go.” Luke protests just as their parents walk back into the room, fully dressed, “Oh, good morning you two.”

“Can we go with?”

“Guys, the three of you can’t come with.”

“Please, mommy.” Y/n’s little voice spoke up from her brother’s lap.

Ellen sighed, “Fine. But if you guys aren’t out there in five minutes, dressed, then we’re leaving without you.”

Ellen reached over and grabbed her daughter, the three of them heading out to the car to wait for their sons.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

In the hospital, Jim and Ellen were the only ones allowed to go back with her at least for now, and y/n let her voice be heard. She cried and cried until they relented and let one of them go back with the two. She reached for Quinn immediately and he nodded his head and followed behind his mom and sister, Jim staying with the other two. 

When they got home, the boys sat at the kitchen table as Jim tried to give y/n her medicine, “I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t want to, honey, but you have to. Don’t you want to feel better?”

“Jacky.”

Jack’s head popped up from where he sat and looked at her, “Yeah?”

Y/n pointed to her medicine and then to Jack and glared, “You want Jack to give you your medicine?”

She nodded with purpose and Jim happily gave the medicine to his middle son, “All yours, Jack.”

Jack didn’t complain, it meant that she trusted him and he loved that feeling. Jack poured the liquid into the small cup to the correct fill line and put it near his sister’s mouth. She took it without a hassle and from the corner of his eyes he could see his father throw his hands up in defeat causing everyone to chuckle.

✧༺✎༻∞

'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'

Later that night, y/n lay in bed by herself, looking at the wall. Her stomach hurt and she let out a barely audible whine. Luke, who happened to be walking by heard it and peeked his head into the room, “You doing okay, baby bear?”

“No.”

Luke walked fully into the room and sat on his little sister’s bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Stomach. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, I will.” Luke laid down next to her and she curled into him, “Thank you.”

Luke looked confused, “For what?”

“For making me feel safe. All three of you.”

Luke awed internally, trying not to let tears fall down his face, “No need to thank me for that.”

Five minutes passed and Jack and Quinn got down waiting for their brother, getting up to see where he was. When they saw him lying in y/n’s bed, they made their way over to them, “You guys okay?”

There was no answer as both of them had fallen asleep. Quinn told Jack to stay there as he walked out to grab some pillows and blankets and brought them back to him. The two made their makeshift beds on the ground and fell asleep not long after.

✧༺✎༻∞

'Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone’

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'

Ever since then, it was common that y/n had to go to the hospital. As the boys got older, they got more worried. They were busier, Quinn went to college and eventually, he and Jack made the NHL. Luke went off to college and this year he started his official rookie season with the Devils. 

However, it wasn’t as often that it happened when they were away, and if it did it wasn’t as bad as having to go to the hospital, just more or less the doctor’s office. They weren’t as worried about her when this happened, getting texts from either there or their parents and calling them to make sure she was okay.

This time was different. Ellen and Jim had run out to grab a few things for dinner and they left y/n at home alone, because she was 16 and was capable of being by herself. Yet, in hindsight, they probably shouldn't have. 

They had been gone for twenty minutes already and she thought they wouldn’t be much longer and she could hold on. But she couldn’t. Every couple of minutes it felt like she had a coughing attack, but this last one, blood came up with it. 

Wasting no time she dialed the first person that came up on her contacts, Luke. 

“Lukey.”

“Hey, y/n/n! What’s up?”

She was glad they didn’t have a game today, otherwise she’d be totally screwed. 

“Lukey, I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? Why? What’s wrong?” Luke stood up from his bed and made his way out of his room and towards Jack’s. 

He didn’t knock on the door before entering which left Jack to somewhat argue with him about knocking before entering, not that he was doing anything, but manners, you know? 

“It’s so bad. Really bad.”

“Well, where’s mom and dad? How bad are we talking?” Jack’s interest peaked at the mention of his parents and scrambled to sit next to his younger brother on his bed, motioning for him to put it on speaker. Luke pressed the button and pulled his phone away from his ear, waiting for the girl to talk. 

“They went out to grab-” She took a pause before coughing some more. Jack and Luke looked at each other worriedly, “Y/n?”

“Oh god. There’s more.”

“More what?” Jack inquired, nervousness settling at the bottom of his stomach, “More blood.”

The three were silent, y/n trying not to freak out and Jack and Luke trying not to freak her out. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the oldest of the three-spoke up, “When are Mom and Dad going to be home?”

As soon as she went to say her answer the front door clicked and y/n rushed downstairs, “Dad! Mom!”

She threw her phone on the counter and Luke turned the volume all the way up in an effort to hear the conversation, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I threw up some blood.” 

“Oh my. Get in the car, I’ll meet you two there.” Jim rushed y/n to the car and Ellen ran around the house gathering a few things in case they were there for a while. 

Jack and Luke were freaking out, “Dad, what’s going on? Mom? Y/n?” Ellen spied her daughter’s phone on the counter and looked at it curiously seeing her son’s contact name on it, “Luke?”

“Mom, what is happening?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital. How long ago did she call you?”

“I don’t know like five minutes ago maybe?” Luke’s voice broke as he explained to his mom, Jack placing a hand on his back. 

“I want you to call, Quinn-”

“No!” Y/n interrupted her mom as she got into the passenger seat, “What do you mean no?”

“He has a game, please.”

“Honey, I think you are more important to him than the game. Let Luke and Jack call him.” Ellen’s voice was stern as Jim pulled out of the driveway.

“If you’re gonna call him let me talk to him.”

Ellen, and the boys, went to protest but y/n’s face showed desperation, “Fine. We’ll call you two back when we have answers.”

“Don’t bother. We’re already packing.” 

As Ellen and y/n were squabbling, Jack ushered his younger brother to his room and told him to go back and he left his phone in his room. Jack pulled his suitcase out of his closet and was halfway finished packing when they acknowledged the two again.

“There’s no need-”

“You’re not winning this y/n/n. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Jack hung up and finished packing meeting Luke and in ten minutes, they were on their way to the airport. 

Meanwhile, y/n had dialed Quinn’s contact, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. It was an hour before the game was supposed to start and she had no idea if he would actually answer or not, but to her luck, he did.

“Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n/n. What's up? Need help with some homework?”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

Quinn dropped his stick as he stood in the locker room, some of his teammates glancing at him worriedly, “What is it?”

“Same old, same old, but this-” Her sentence was interrupted by another coughing attack and Quinn could hear their mother telling her to take it easy in the background. 

“What do you mean it’s worse?” Quinn didn’t need her to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant.

Elias was standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder to ground him in case anything got out of hand, “I coughed up some blood.”

“You what?!” Quinn’s voice echoed through the clubhouse, “Quinn what’s wrong?”

The boy shushed his teammates, “Quinn, I’m probably fine-”

“If you’re coughing up blood you are not fine. Do Mom and Dad know? Do Jack and Luke?”

“Yes, Mom and Dad know, you idiot. Who do you think is taking me to the hospital? And yes the other two know, I already called them. I didn’t want to call you because you have a game.”

“I couldn’t care less about the game when my little sister calls and tells me she’s on the way to the hospital. Let me talk to coach, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Quinn, no-”

“Nope, la la la la. Blah blah blah. I’m coming. Give the phone to mom.”

“But-”

“No.”

Y/n reluctantly handed the phone to her mom but as she extended her hand, her arm dropped and the phone clattered to the ground. The only thing Quinn could hear was the faint yelling of his sister’s name from his mom. 

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Y/n was lying in the hospital bed when Jack and Luke, watched the only show that was on this late at night, Family Feud. She was trying to answer but every time she went to speak she’d start coughing. The two ran in just as y/n’s previous coughing attack had subsided and she was now glaring at the TV because someone said a stupid answer.

“I said sex first, asshole. But no one wanted to listen to me.” 

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Jacky! Lu!” Y/n had a dopey smile on her face as she saw her brothers. They couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or if she was just being herself.

“Hey, baby bear. How you feeling?”

“Mom, can I swear?”

Jack laughed, “Aren’t you the one who just called someone an asshole?”

“Mom! Jack’s being mean.”

“Jack stop torturing your sister and yes, y/n, you can swear.”

“I feel like shit.” Luke nodded, the only one who seemed to have sympathy for the girl right now, “What did the doctor say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”

Ellen and Jim explained how it wasn’t a big thing and that she should be able to go home in a couple of hours or so. The two stayed with her until she was discharged and drove home with the three where Luke carried her upstairs to her room because she fell asleep on the way home. 

That’s where Quinn found them when he got there, Jack and Luke on either side of her in her bed as they watched the Game Show Network. One of the many stuffed animals that Quinn had gotten her wrapped in her arms against her chest. 

“Hey guys.”

“Quinn! You’re here.”

“Of course, I’m here. I couldn’t let those two take care of you.”

Jack and Luke feigned offense at the eldest child but Jack moved over so Quinn could sit where he previously was, knowing y/n always chose to be close to him when she was sick. 

“You doing okay?”

“Could be better, but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m never letting you go, none of us are.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was something the three had already talked about, they had already talked to their coaches and were scratched from their next couple of games because their sister needed him. 

Y/n spent the rest of the night surrounded by her brothers feeling safe and sound.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

@hearts-4-luke | @pucks-goals-penalties | @sarawinson78 | @prettyinsatiable | @pucks-goals-penalties | @elegieseulogise | @crazycat-ladys-blog

#sunny lune writes #sunnylunenhlxts #hockey #nhl #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x sister!reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x sister!reader #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes x sister!reader #luke hughes x reader #hughes brothers #hughes brothers x reader #hughes brothers x sister!reader #hughes!sister #hughes!reader #sister!reader #taylor swift #safe and sound #hunger games #Spotify

[barbiedragon]

Scarlet Bound Series

Born in 84 AC, you are the only daughter of Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen and the younger sister to Viserys and Daemon.  The red string of fate wrapped tightly around your wrist begins to guide you down a path that will change the trajectory of the Targaryen Dynasty.  Dragons, deaths, and dreams will dominate your world all while being bound to your brother and husband, Daemon Targaryen.

Fanart

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

#scarlet bound series #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd fic #hotd imagine #canon divergence #daemon x female reader #daemon x fem!reader #targcest #sister!reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #pro daemon targaryen #daemon fic #daemon imagine

[kumimi3]

Imagine the Haitani brothers having a baby sister who is a streetcar racer, driving a car the three of them modified when they were young.

In every race you participate in, you bet your ass they’re in the middle of the crowd cheering you on. Any mechanical pieces you need? It’s already inside the garage, don’t even worry about the money, they got it.

It didn’t matter that you do illegal street racing, your big brothers often even encourage it since racing could be a great benefit to Bonten.

In all honesty, you’re often their escape to when they almost get caught doing their illegal business, giving a sly smile to the police before entering your polished race car as you drove above the normal speed.

Rindou raised his middle finger to taunt them, laughing like a maniac as Ran gave a big kiss on your head, “You really gotta be a part of Bonten with your skills, Y/n."

“I’m only driving Nii-chan…"

“Yeah, but a great one at that!"

*okay that’s all <;33

#tokrev x reader #x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev #haitani brothers #rindou haitani #ran haitani #sister!reader #platonic!reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader

[sakufilms]

please wake up ; h.h.

𓂃 ⋆ 𓈒 masterlist

summary. instead of stoick dying after toothless is under the bewilderbeasts control, you, hiccup's younger sister, are almost hit, resulting in tears and desperation.

pairing. hiccup haddock x sister!reader

genre. angst, hurt/comfort, platonic.

word count. 2.8k

warnings. for plot reasons, valka was taken by cloudjumper when hiccup was 4 and you were a baby, near death experiences, violence, lots of angst.

✐ i couldn’t find the original post for the gif (i found it on pinterest, reposted), but the username is in the top left corner of the gif ^^

The amount of fear that ran through Hiccup when Drago yelled out his bone chilling scream, waving his staff around in the air… it was immeasurable. The aggression that the throaty sound held in it sent a chill down Hiccup’s spine. He knew at that moment, that he was in serious trouble.

The ground shook with each step that the bewilderbeast took towards them, and rather than the calm awe and serenity that Hiccup felt when he met his mothers bewilderbeast, looking into the eyes of this one made him feel a fear that he couldn’t get rid of.

“No dragon can resist the alpha’s command.” Drago said lowly, his voice scratching its way out of his throat. “So, he who controls the alpha, controls them all.”

A hint of rage settled in Hiccups veins as Drago spoke, pointing his staff towards Toothless.

The rage nearly dissipated, a low sound emitting throughout snow and ice covered land. The sound came from the bewilderbeast, it’s pupils narrowed at Toothless. Toothless began shaking his head, making a noise of discomfort. “Toothless?” Hiccup said worriedly.

Toothless continued to whimper, shaking his head around. “T-toothless, you okay, bud? What’s going on?” But all of the words leaving Hiccups mouth did nothing.

Drago’s voice sounded again. “Witness true strength. The strength of will over others.” Drago was holding up his staff again, the pointed end pointing to Toothless, who suddenly rose, ever so still. “In the face of it… you are nothing.”

When Hiccup realized he was now looking at the end of the staff, it being pointed directly at his chest, he knew that trouble was arising. Toothless slowly turned towards him, pupils as narrow as the bewilderbeast’s were. “Uh,” Hiccup slowly backed away from his dragon, “What did he just tell you?”

Toothless got low to the ground, snarling as he slowly crept over towards his rider, who kept backing away. “Toothless, come on. What’s the matter with you?” He felt the desperation begin to tear at his heart, knowing that there was almost nothing he could do. And sudden moves or sounds could result in the controlled Toothless to pounce on him, resulting in his demise. Even if Hiccup could get a hit in, how much would that break his heart? Would he be able to hurt his best friend?

“No, no, no, no. Come on. What are you doing? Knock it off.” Hiccup knew he was being backed up into ice, and soon he would have no where to go. “Stop!” He yelled out, “snap out of it!” But the attempt was useless, as Toothless kept his slow, creeping pace.

The world around his became almost meaningless. It was just him, Toothless, and mountains of ice trapping him in. “Toothless, no! Toothless.”

Toothless hissed, preparing to launch a heated breath of fire at him, and he felt his heart drop. “Don’t!”

He almost didn’t hear the broken cry of his name being shouted, his eyes remaining on Toothless’ sharp ones. “Stop!”

“Hiccup!” The voice shouted again, and with wide eyes, he looked, and his heart sunk further. You were running right towards him, determination and fear in your eyes. The painful realization of what you were doing came all too quick, and his fear that was once reserved for himself was now almost entirely for you. “Y/n! No!”

But it was too late, you were right next to him, and then crashing into him. Hiccup slid across the snow covered ground, gasping in fear of what he’d see when he looked at you.

He looked just in time to see the blast of fire miss you—just in time to see it hit the ice behind you, breaking a peace of it off as it came crashing down onto you.

“No!”

He startled himself with the cry that left his lips. The world around him faded out again. It was only you, him, and his shallow breaths. “No…” He said again, the disbelief strong in his tone. This couldn’t be happening.

He ran over to you, feeling like he was going to collapse. He was by your side in seconds—he was by your side and there you were, covered in shards of teal-blue ice. Your eyes were shut; your breathing was barely there. He feared every one of your breaths would be your last.

He groaned as he pushed the ice off of you, piece by piece. As each shard slid off, an already growing bruise was left in its wake wherever your skin was visible.

The despair was crushing him; engulfing him; making a home into his heart that was sinking even further as it buried itself into the ever so cold snow beneath him. He grabbed and pulled at your left arm, pulling you off of your side and onto your back. “Y/n!”

Hiccup hardly paid attention to his mother dropping by his side, and his father close behind her. Your breaths were still so shallow.

“Y/n… Oh, my Gods.” His breath caught in his throat, and he faintly felt his mothers hand rest on his shoulder. For the better of his own sanity, he pressed to fingers to your neck, sighing in relief at the slow and weak feeling of your heartbeat beneath his fingers. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Wake up… please wake up.” He ignored every sound around him, including the sound of his friends arriving to the scene. He couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around you, being ever so careful and gentle with your injured form. He felt like he had already lost you, the thought making tears roll down his face. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt instead of him: the target.

You—the younger sister who came into his life when he was just 4 years old. The sister who listened to him when everyone turned a blind eye and pretended like he didn’t exist. You were always there, and as he held you close, he couldn’t get rid of the fear that soon you would be here no longer.

All of his attention was on you, until he heard a low coo from his very own dragon: the dragon who did this.

As Toothless’ snout brushed up against your hand, he couldn’t help the anger that enveloped him. Deep down he knew it wasn’t Toothless’ fault, but something else told him he needed something to be angry at. After seeing the way Toothless’ had unknowingly injured you, his emotions got the best of him. “No! Get away from her!” Hiccup harshly shoved Toothless away, feeling guilt at the way his dragon whined in response, but Hiccup was spiralling.

He stood to his feet, looking down at Toothless. “Go on! Get out of here!”

Toothless took a small step forward, his eyes holding sadness at being shouted at, but Hiccup shouted again. “Get away!”

Hiccup was a mix of emotions as Toothless coward away and ran off.

“It’s not his fault.” Valka said softly, her sadness making her voice wobble only slightly. “You know that.”

And Hiccup did know that. He fell to his knees again, fresh tears rolling down his face as he looked at you. Your eyes were still closed.

The bewilderbeast roared out, but Hiccup almost didn’t hear it as his mother spoke. “Good dragons under the control of bad people… do bad things.”

“Come on!” Hiccup heard someone shout, along with the sound of Toothless whimpering. He looked up, and Drago was riding a once again controlled Toothless, leading him away. “Gather the men and meet me at Berk!”

Hiccup felt an urgency rush through him, and he jumped up onto his feet. “Toothless!” He cried out to him, but Valka held him back. He felt useless as the alpha roared out, and Drago’s men prepared to leave the island.

He couldn’t help but to continue to cry. He just lost his best friend, and he looked down at you, worried that he would lose another. He dropped down beside you again, feeling like the entire world was against him. He felt lost and scared. He couldn’t lose you. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you.

“Hiccup…” Stoick said from behind him. Hiccup could already picture the look on his face based of the sadness in his voice.

“No, Dad.” Why were they acting like you were already dead? You just had to wake up.

As the tears kept falling down his cheeks, his friends backed away and watched from a good distance, as he needed his space. His parents stayed close behind him.

“We have to— we have to do something. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? My sister is dying and you’re all just standing around waiting for—“ Waiting for her to die.

“Hiccup,” Gobber said softly, a pained sigh leaving the man’s lips, “there’s not much we can do, right now. Not here. Back home, maybe things would be better. But we don’t have our dragons to get there, Hiccup.”

Hiccup remained looking at you, still. “So, why are you all acting like you don’t care?” Maybe that was harsh, but he was still spiralling.

“Hiccup, of course we care.” When Astrid spoke, Hiccup looked at her and found a world of sadness in her eyes. Maybe she was worried for you; maybe she felt guilt and pity for him; maybe it was both. The the look in her eyes made him feel less alone.

Hiccup was silent for a few moments, and then, “There’s nothing we can do?” He chose to ignore the way his voice cracked with emotion.

His father sighed, and removed his helmet, holding it to his chest. “Nothing we can do but pray that she wakes up.”

Hiccup inhaled deeply. “I need a second alone with her.”

He didn’t receive a response, he only heard the sound of footsteps slowly backing away.

With a shaking hand, he took your hand into his, watching a teardrop fall down and land on your fingertip. The desperation in him had been making a slow incline, and he wasn’t sure how much of this he could take.

“You have to wake up.” He whispered, falling back down to wrap an arm around you. “Come on. Wake up.”

But as your breathing remained slow, he felt the tears roll down a little faster, and he couldn’t help the sob that slipped past his lips. “Wake up. Come on, what are you doing? Get up…”

A hitch in your breath.

As the sound reaches his ears, and he feels the pattern of your breath change for only a moment, his head snaps up. Your face is neutral, a scrape and bruise on your right cheekbone.

“Y/n?…”

He’s filled with a sense of hope, and just as it feels like it was a trick of his mind, your breath catches again, and your brows move the smallest amount.

“Oh, my Gods.” Hiccup breathes out. “Y/n? Hey… wake up, come on.”

Your eyes began to flutter open and it’s like Hiccup and finally breathe again. He leans forward so that you see him, and your eyes meet his. “Hiccup?”

Hiccup laughs, light and airy, and nods. “Yeah, I’m here. You’re okay.

Your face scrunches up a little as you become aware of the pain running across your skin. Hiccup notices and a slight frown lands on his face.

Your hand squeezes his, “I’m glad you’re okay, Hiccup.”

Hiccup can’t help the shock that runs through him. “You’re glad I’m okay? I’m glad you’re okay…” he then sighs, thinking about how he nearly lost you. The ache in his heart was still there, like a poison latching onto him, killing him slowly. He couldn’t believe how close to death you had gotten. “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

And then he was hugging you again, being as gentle as possible. He felt you wrap an arm around his back, but he could tell that by the way your arm was shaking, it was taking more of a toll on you than you’d like to admit. Hiccup pulled back. “Don’t strain yourself.”

Your eyes were still only about half open and he wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out soon. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

But his words could only be heard so clearly as the world began to fade once again. It had taken so much of your energy to stay conscious as long as you did.

“No, no, no. Keep your eyes open, okay? Stay awake, stay awake— Dad!”

The last thing you saw was your brother and parents hovering over you, and then you were welcomed into a deep sleep once again.

⿻

The rest of the day went by so fast, yet so slow. Hiccup felt pride for him and Toothless—who he had since forgiven and apologized to—for being able to fight against Drago and the alpha. After this, it was clear that Toothless had earned his place as the alpha. However, as all of this had been happening, you were the only thing on Hiccup’s mind. He was fighting for everyone, and most importantly to avenge you. This was Drago’s fault—all of this. Hiccup had to do something about it, and he did.

It was likely clear how much he was worrying for you, because not long after the bewilderbeast had dove into the water, taking Drago with him, his mother was at his side. He knew from the look on her face alone that she was saying he should go to you. He didn’t waste a second.

He ran up to his house, passing by people cheering and shouting out of glee, and he pushed open his front door and ran straight to your room. There you were, under the care of Gothi, tucked into your bed and bandaged wherever needed. It was honestly a wonder that they were even able to get you to Berk while you were unconscious, but they managed. Hiccup was just glad to see you now, alive and breathing.

Gothi nodded at him, making her way out of the room. Hiccup remained still for a moment, looking down at you. It pained him to see you like this.

Eventually he sat on the edge of the bed, and looked down at his hands. He felt so guilty about you getting hurt. It felt like it was his fault, somehow. You had jumped to save him, and this is where it brought the both of you. Surely, he was partially at fault for this outcome.

“You’re not blamin’ yourself, are you?”

At the sound of your voice, Hiccup whipped his head around, eyes wide and burning with tears that haven’t even quite built up yet. “You’re awake.”

You nodded lightly, looking down at your bandaged and bruised body. You didn’t regret a thing you did.

“Why… did you do that?” Hiccup started slowly. He didn’t expect this to be what he decided to talk about, but he got to thinking and his mouth was moving before he even realized it. “I mean… save me—“ He took a deep breath, brows furrowing at the topic at hand.

“What else did you want me to do?” You said. You sounded determined, strangely enough.

“I—“

“I couldn’t just… stand there.”

“I wanted you to.”

You sighed this time. “And what? Watch you die? You could’ve.”

Hiccup saw tears begin to form in your own eyes, and he somewhat felt bad for bringing this up right now. “You could’ve, too.”

“I know.” You stated. There was a brief pause as you both collected your thoughts. You didn’t want to argue about this. Neither of you wanted to make anger out of grieving for someone who hadn’t even died. “I care about you, Hiccup. You looked just as scared as I felt. Even if you don’t want to admit it. I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if you got hurt, or worse. I love you, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I’d rather be hurt than you be hurt instead.”

Hiccup gazed down at you and realized in that moment that you were just like any other Haddock—stubborn as hell. Hiccup and his father were some of the most stubborn people on Berk, if not the most stubborn, and he wouldn’t be surprised that if he got to know his mother a little more, she would turn out to be the same.

Having such a quality can be unbearable at times, but it made for some pretty promising trust with the people you love.

“Well,” Hiccup broke into a smile, chuckling lightly. “I would do the same for you.”

You laughed softly. “I’d hope so.”

Hiccup was shocked when you started pushing yourself up on the bed all of a sudden. “Hey, woah, woah, woah. What are you doing?”

“Relax. I know my limits.” You snickered, and then winced. All of a sudden your arms were around Hiccup and Hiccup wasn’t sure if it was the stupidest or sweetest thing you’ve ever done. Probably both.

Hiccup hugged you back, his eyes closing as it felt like the day was finally calming down. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

An amused scoff, and then, “no promises.”

Definitely a Haddock.

@ sakufilms

#♡.httyd #hiccup haddock #how to train your dragon #httyd #hiccup #hiccup haddock x reader #hiccup x reader #httyd x reader #hiccup haddock x sister reader #hiccup haddock x sister!reader #hiccup haddock x fem!reader #httyd x sister reader #httyd x sister!reader #teen reader #teen!reader #sister reader #sister!reader #x fem!reader #how to train your dragon 2 #httyd 2 #httyd hiccup #angst #hurt comfort #platonic #no romance #no romantic relationships #all my works

[rustys-lodge]

Requested by anon : Can you write a spn fic of dad sam/dean where she texts her dad from her room about needing help because depression gets really bad and she wants to self harm? And dad just helps her ride the wave and comforts her. Thank you

Warnings : Depression, self harm

-------

And without a single warning, the door to your room flew open. And there he was, standing with that empathetic smile on his face.

You'd believe it if you couldn't clearly see the worry glistening in his eyes.

"Is this where my beauty needs help for her sleep ?"

Your lips quivered and a whimper left your lips, causing your dad's shoulders to slump.

Nice try. But the wound is too deep to close up with a simple joke. And the joke is not funny. But your dad got the memo, since he flew to your bed and sat himself beside you.

"Scooch" He commanded before bringing your upper half over his chest. So you layed diagonally on the bed, with your back up to his chest, giving him scape to wrap his arms completely around your neck.

You needed that. Badly. And when your whimpers got louder, your dad hugged you tighter.

"It's bad, dad..." You choked on a sob.

"I know...kid...i know" Your father planted a kiss on your head. And his hands let you go....discreetly traveling down your arms.

He was checking to see if you'd flinch...that would mean you did it again. And you know this move because you've been through this as well.

Him randomly touching your arms, squeezing from time to time to see if it hurts you. At first you pretended like it didn't. But at some point, you realized there's no need to pretend. He knows.

"I didn't do it." You informed him and a slight sigh of relief hit your ear.

"That's my girl." Another kiss fell on the back of your back of your head. "Give me those hands."

You complied and your dad criss-crossed your arms and set your hands on your opposite shoulders, before bringing his own arms over yours.

"I'm here now, kid."

And as weird and narrow as it may have seemed. You were wrapped in a loving embrace.

And although your drowning thoughts were not ceasing, warmth flooded your body and your muscles tensed down...you hadn't slept in a while. It's been hard..Really hard.

With his arms still wrapped around your chest, your dad sung to you, considerably low, guiding you to sleep.

-----

Sorry for the never-changing ending. It seems that comfy fics cannot end any other way. Anyways, hope this helps someone on a lonely night !! ❤️❤️❤️⚘️⚘️⚘️

#winchester daughter #little winchester #father x daughter!reader #daughter reader #daughter!reader #protective father #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester xdaughter #sam winchester x daughter #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #sister!reader #winchester sister #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister

[ellieslittleburrow]

Siblings

Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?

Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister

Warnings : nooone, just fluff.

A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.

------

Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.

The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.

Oh my god!

"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.

"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."

"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.

"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.

You let out a little chuckle, following behind.

-----

After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.

"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.

"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.

"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..

"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."

You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...

"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.

"No!"

"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.

"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.

He did not want to go either.

"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."

Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."

You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.

"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.

Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.

And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.

You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.

"I won."

You nodded. "And you spend the night here."

Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."

----

And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀

#winchester sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sister x brothers #baby winchester #father figure fic #sibling fic #platonic!reader #dean winchester × platonic!reader

[lonelywitchv2]

Shattered (Strawberries pt. 2)

summary: the discovery of your relationship leaves an aftermath that shatters more than just an inkpot.

content: lots of anger, lots of dialogue, lots of angst, lots of anger (again), sirius and james lowkey being assholes, mentions of food, the marauders basically controlling your life, sirius and regulus being on extra-bad terms, the marauders also stalking you (to an extent)

wc: 2350 (literally almost 4x longer than part 1)

join my taglist!

the long-awaited part 2 is here! hope y'all enjoy <3

The walk back to the school was quiet, all attempts at defending you and Regulus had been long abandoned. James’ grip on your forearm remained as he marched you away from the forest while Sirius refused to even look at you, choosing to glare ahead like James. 

When you, Sirius, and James entered the common room, Remus, Lily, and Marlene looked up, all three caught off guard by the sight in front of them. None of them had seen James look as angry as he did, not in the seven years of knowing him. You, on the other hand, were stuck in his iron grip, your eyes cast downwards. They watched as James and Sirius made a move to take you up to the boys' dormitories, only stopping when Remus jumped up and blocked them.

“What the hell is going on?” Remus asked, his tall frame standing in front of the staircase, glancing between the two boys and you.

“We caught her out on a little date,” James responded, his upset expression unchanged.

“Why is that such a big deal? She’s sixteen, she’s allowed to go on dates, Prongs,” Remus said, confused.

“Well, she isn’t allowed to go on dates with my little brother!” Sirius exclaimed, his face twisted in anger.

Remus, Marlene, and Lily all paused, shock written across each of their faces.

“She was on a date with Regulus?” Lily asked from the couch.

“Yes!” James responded, his head turning towards the redhead.

“And in the Forbidden Forest too!” Sirius added.

“It was just a picnic,” You uttered.

“I’m pretty sure it was more than ‘just a picnic’ given that I saw Regulus on top of you,” Sirius argued.

“Regulus was on top of her?” Marlene asked, still shocked.

“It wasn’t like that! We were just kissing!” You said, a weak defense against the five seventeen-year-olds beginning to crowd around you.

“Oh, so Regulus pins your wrists down every time you two kiss?” Sirius asked bitterly.

“No-!”

“Well, then it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ to me!” 

“You guys don’t understand!” You exclaimed.

“Well then help us understand,” Remus responded, trying to remain calm.

“I’m trying! Regulus and I were going on a picnic-” You started before swiftly getting interrupted.

“Why was it in the Forbidden Forest?” Sirius pestered.

“Because we knew you would freak if you saw- which we were right about!” You argued back.

“Anyways….?” Lily said, trying to draw the story out from you.

“And we were talking about books-” You said, trying to continue.

“I didn’t know talking about books involved lying on top of someone,” James muttered, hostility lacing his words

“Oh shush, James,” Marlene groaned.

“We were talking about books and then had a play fight over a strawberry and kissed. That’s it. Nothing more to it,” You finished.

“Still doesn’t explain why it was all with Regulus,” Sirius grumbled.

“Listen, Sirius, I get that you’re pissed off and I’m sorry for keeping it a secret, but I’m not sorry that it was with Regulus. I know he’s your brother but I really like him, Siri,” You said, looking up at the dark-haired boy.

“I just… I don’t get it. How’d this even happen?” Sirius asked, quieter this time.

“Potions- we, uh, we have potions together. And a few prefects rounds now and then,” You answered.

“Prefect rounds… Lily, did you put the two of them together for rounds? Cause I know I sure as hell didn’t,” James accused, turning towards the red-haired girl.

“No- James, you know the pairs are rotated, I didn’t put them together on purpose, it was bound to happen!” Lily exclaimed, stepping away from the group.

“Lily, none of this would’ve happened if they weren’t put on rounds together!”

“The pairs aren’t picked out by hand, I already told you it wasn’t intentional-”

“Dear Godric- will you guys stop fighting? James, listen, Regulus and I had classes together- we would’ve met regardless of if we were paired up for rounds or not, so don’t go blaming Lily for it,” You interrupted.

“Everyone, just stop. I just need to think.” Sirius said, waving you, Lily, Marlene, Remus, and James off as he walked up the stairs and into his dormitory.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Remus muttered, following the path of Sirius. James, who momentarily turned to glare at you, walked behind Remus.

Left in the common room with Lily and Marlene, you let out an exasperated huff as you watched the boys’ heads disappear up the stairs. Turning around, you saw the two older girls staring at you.

“What?” You asked, not oblivious to their curious expressions.

“How long has this been going on?” Lily asked quietly, Marlene leaning in slightly to hear the conversation.

You stayed silent for a moment, your gaze trailing down to the scuffed material of your shoes.

“A few months,” You said quietly, slight shame enveloping you as you felt the burning stares from Lily and Marlene.

“How many months?”

“Four.”

“Four months?!” Marlene exclaimed, a gasp leaving her mouth.

Your head turned to the side, avoiding the gaze of the two as you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Yeah, four months,” You repeated, looking everywhere but at the girls in front of you.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Lily asked, brows furrowed.

“You’re really gonna ask that after what just happened? Blimey, Lily, it’s a mess whatever I do. None of them are going to trust me again. They… they’re gonna do everything they can to keep me away from Regulus and there’s about nothing I can do about it,” You muttered, frustrated tears forming in your eyes.

“I need to be alone for a little while. I’ll see you later,” You said after a few moments of silence, raking your hands through your hair as you left for your dorm.

The sight of your bed was a welcoming sight, prompting you to kick off your shoes and flop down onto it. Despite it only being late afternoon, you were already exhausted from the stress of the day. It started off good, with you getting to be with Regulus, but it was quickly ruined by James and Sirius discovering the two of you.

Regulus.

The thought of him normally brought a wave of happiness, butterflies swarming in your stomach when you saw him. Right now, though, you felt everything but the pleasant fluttering in your stomach. It was more like there were moths inhabiting your body, covering whatever light that was once in your heart. It wasn’t because of Regulus himself, dear Godric, of course not, it was over the fact that, just like you told Lily and Marlene, you would have all four boys, or at the very least James and Sirius, working against your relationship and working to keep you apart from him. It made you sick to the stomach.

Some might say to sneak around and meet up in abandoned corridors, broom closets, or empty classrooms, which would (theoretically) work if it wasn’t for the damned Marauder’s Map. At first, the piece of enchanted parchment was a blessing when you needed to check for professors before leaving the common room past curfew but, as you grew older and would meet up with boys, you would have about five minutes, maybe ten if you were lucky, until the marauders would appear. Your resentment for the paper only grew when you realized there was no way you could be with Regulus in an empty room or corridor at night without one of the marauders catching on, so you had to get creative. You and Regulus would make out in empty sections of the library, hold hands in the back of the classroom, talk and kiss during prefect rounds, and exchange love notes passed using either magic or by being left in between the pages of a book.

The rest of the day, you stayed holed up in your room, only leaving when dinner came around, followed by Lily and Marlene, who dragged you out of bed and down to the Great Hall. Dinner was a quiet affair, something incredibly unusual for the group but, with the lingering air of hostility emitting from Sirius, no one was really in the mood for talking. You were sat in between Remus and Lily, placed strategically so you couldn’t look over at the Slytherin table. Sirius, however, was sitting across from you and refused to even glance at you, his eyes either on his plate or glaring at the Slytherin table, most definitely aimed at Regulus. 

You could feel the stares, watching as Marlene’s eyes flickered between you, Sirius, and Regulus. Lily, who would repeatedly would glance at you through her peripheral view, also caught your attention with her gaze. You were almost positive you could feel Regulus’ stare on the back of your head, yet you refrained from turning to meet the gaze. Sirius was mad enough as it was, he didn’t need to catch you looking at his little brother.

Not particularly hungry, especially given the day’s events, you spent the majority of dinner pushing around the food on your plate rather than eating it. You felt almost nauseous as you sat on the bench, the idea of eating englufed by the still-present feeling of moths within your body.

When dinner was finally finished, you were ready to bolt out of the Great Hall and into your dorm. Remus, however, had other plans, placing an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his tall frame. Although it might’ve looked like an act of affection to some, you knew it wasn’t. You were certain Sirius had given Remus some sort of signal to make sure you didn’t leave their sight, something he was keen on avoiding after finding you and Regulus in the forest.

The over-protective behavior continued for days. You were always in the company of at least one of the marauders, whether it was in the library or walking to class, you were never alone. They had even gone so far as to bribe one of your Potions classmates into keeping an eye on you and Regulus. Of course, this was only after the plan of forcing you to switch partners failed and so began your life of constant surveillance. James had even put it upon himself to use his Head Boy status and hand-pick the prefect pairs that would patrol the halls, ensuring that you and Regulus were never together.

The only time you were ever alone was when you were in your dorm. Even then, the three girls, with whom you shared a room, had told you that James interrogated them every time they left the dorm, trying to squeeze information out of them on if you had gotten any letters or anything of the such. The girls, thankfully, had refused to answer any of James’ questions, leaving him to question what happened behind the wooden door of Gryffindor tower’s dormitory thirteen.

Around a week after you and Regulus were discovered, you finally received a letter from him. It had come Saturday morning while you were getting ready for breakfast, delivered by the midnight-colored owl Regulus had named Pluto, after the Roman god of the underworld. After petting Pluto for a moment, you sat down on your bed to read the piece of parchment. Inside the letter, Regulus wrote about how greatly was he missing you and how he wanted nothing more than to be able to hold your hand without receiving a scathing glare from his brother. You folded the letter back up and went rummaging through your bag, pulling out parchment, ink, and a quill as you wrote a response, talking about how you were planning on trying to get Sirius to let up and not keep you on watch every moment. You rolled your letter up, tied it to Plato, and sent him off, storing Regulus’ letter inside your DADA textbook before hurrying down to breakfast.

While you were sitting with your friends, your eyes would briefly glance at the door every time a student entered, looking for a particular curly-headed boy. When you made eye contact with the one you had been searching for, you could feel the redness in your cheeks. You quickly looked down, avoiding the side-eyed glance you received from Sirius, his eyes trailed over to where Regulus was walking towards the Slytherin table.

Catching on, Sirius dropped his fork onto his plate, storming out of the Great Hall in a fit of rage. You, James, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Lily all watched him disappear before you stood up and began to follow him.

By the time you reached the painting of the Fat Lady, Sirius was already ahead of you and inside Gryffindor tower. Muttering the password, you entered the common room, pausing to look for Sirius. After you realized he wasn’t downstairs, your ears caught the sounds of things being tossed around and falling from the girls' dormitories.

In a matter of seconds, you rushed up the stairs and into your dorm, where Sirius was rummaging through your bag, your nightstand already ransacked and gutted, its contents scattered across the floor. 

“What the hell are you doing, Sirius?!” You shouted, attempting to pull the bag out of the boy’s grip. The fight over the bag was essentially tug of war, ending when the contents spilled out, books and quills on the ground. 

“I don’t know what else you’re hiding from me, but I’m going to find it so bugger off,” Sirius growled, anger burning in his eyes as he glanced at you.

You watched as Sirius reached for your Defense Against the Dark Arts book, freezing as the letter from Regulus fluttered out from the pages and onto the ground. Sirius picked it up, unfolded it, and turned to you with a look of betrayal and fury on his face after reading it. 

“How could you?” Sirius said, leaving your dormitory and taking the letter with him.

Left in the mess surrounding your bed, you looked down to see your inkpot on the ground, shattered.

tysm for reading!

@serialghost @abq654 @scrletletter @readtomeregulus @anny-bah

#regulus black x reader #james potter x reader #regulus black #regulus x reader #marauders x reader #james potter #harry potter #james potter x platonic!reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #sister!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x platonic!reader #sirius black #remus lupin x platonic!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin

[frost-queen]

Shattered dreams (Reader!sister & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07,@melsunshine, @goldenmoonbeam, @freyathehuntress

Summary: You are debuted (around Eloise's age) and have met someone in secret. Unaware to any of your brothers. One faithful day they find out that someone is trying to hurt you for 'not listening & not being a good wife to be'. Hearing of this your brothers boil with anger and come to your aid.

The weather was nice, a soft breeze cooling the warming spring season. You took a deep breath, taking it all in. Spring was your favorite season after all. Not too hot, not too cold. Flowers blooming, birds singing and ducks enjoying their ponds. From afar you could already see the lake. Boats set on them to take a tour. Colin noticed your eagerness tapping you on your hand. – “Would you like a tour around the lake sister?” – he asked with a smile. He knew just how much you’d like that.

You formed a smile, holding your hand on his arm. – “Perhaps later.” – you answered. Colin furrowed his brows a bit confused. Why you wanted to wait stunned him. To be fair you wanted to take a tour on the boats, just with that someone special. With Hubert so to speak. You met him a few balls ago. None of your relatives aware of the meeting.

You were absolutely smitten with him. He’d be the one to save you. To care and comfort himself over you till he drew his last breath. You didn’t know why you kept it a secret. Perhaps because the encounter was so secretive and unproper by any standards set up by the ton you perhaps feared it.

Looking around you wondered where he is. Eyes slowly widening when your gaze met with his from afar. Your heart leaped and fluttered. He slightly motioned with his head for you to come and see him. You couldn’t hide the giddy smile on your lips. Slowly removing your arm from around your brother Colin’s. Colin frowned. – “I must ask mama something.”- you lied before he could question your intentions.

He nodded, turning his posture to Benedict and Eloise who were in a deep conversation. Colin over-heard their conversation, sighing loud with an eye roll. They were so headstrong in bickering about nonsense. You made your way over the green fields, keeping a close eye on your siblings behind you. You didn’t want any of them to see where you were heading. Taking several detours between small gatherings, you hoped to blend in and possible disappear from their eye.

The secrecy send a thrill through your body. Excitement bubbling up in your stomach. You gasped, turning sharply around with your back to them after spotting mama with Anthony. They were chatting with Miss Edwina and Lady Danbury. Anthony looking as if he’d rather chew off his own foot then be present any longer. It made you chuckle a bit at the idea.

You moved further, closer to the lake with your back kept towards them. Dipping through a gathering you hoped to blend in. Some ladies gave you a nasty look for suddenly joining in as if you were to eavesdrop or steal their possible suitor from them. You shook your head at them, letting them know that were not your intentions. You moved on nearing the lake. By the lake you looked confused around. Was he not here? Hearing loud a psst made you jump out of your skin. By your left, lurking behind a tree he stood.

You glanced barely over your shoulder before heading over to him. Hubert took you by your hand, pulling you closer to him. – “Miss Y/n.” – he said kissing your hand. You smiled lovestruck and flattered by the gesture. – “I have counted the days till I’d meet you again.” – he whispered. His compliment warmed your heart if he would’ve asked for your hand you would’ve accepted it within a heartbeat. You looked behind you to the lake. – “Shall… shall we go for a tour?” – you asked eager to go round the lake.

Hubert smiled leaving a kiss higher up your arm. You smiled a bit uneasy hoping no one had seen it as it was against standards. – “As the lady pleases.” – Hubert spoke. He offered you his arm as you took it. Hubert and you came in sight, making your way over to the lake. You kept your head down not wanting any of your siblings to recognize you.

You got on the platform. A boat waiting for you to get on. Hubert got in first. You smiled waiting for him to take your hand and help you down when he didn’t. He just sat himself down staring at the other side of the lake. You smiled sheepishly, lifting a bit of your skirt up. Foot dangling in the air, finding balance to set it down. The boat wobbled a bit when your foot touched the boat. – “Hurry up will you.” – Hubert said with a hastened wave. His comment made you stare stunned at him for a brief second.

Without thinking much further about it, you got onto the boat. Hubert took the oars, rowing the boat away. You took a deep breath, enjoying the ride. He rowed the boat further away from the mainland and out of sight. – “Is it not a lovely day My lord?” – you asked to stir up a conversation. His face made a ‘meh’ expression making you regret your question. – “My lord is everything…” – you started wanting to ask about his sudden mood when he stopped rowing. You blinked perplex when he threw the oars to you.

You caught them, staring confused at them. – “My lord… I do not understand…” – you said, looking back up to him. – “I am tired!” – he hissed out. – “Why don’t you row!” – he insisted upon. Your eyes widened at his request. – “Row… my lord?” – you repeated wanting to be sure you understood. – “Yes!” – he called out bothered. – “I spoke clear didn’t I or is your head filled with novelty nonsense?” – he said loudly startling you.

You quickly shook your head. – “Then start rowing.” – he insisted rubbing his shoulder as if it was sore. You nodded obedient with a nervous swallow. You set the oars in the water, giving it a turn. One oar plopped up from the water, splashing the boat a bit. It made you lose your balance a bit, nearly falling forwards. Hubert caught some water, wiping his vest with disgust. – “Apologies My lord.” – you quickly said. – “I shall do my best.” – you set the oar right, giving it another go. After a few failed attempts you found a steady pace to row the boat.

It didn’t took you long to start huffing and puffing at the weight you needed to row. His and yours. To be honest you weren’t that strong compared to Hubert. – “Can you not go a bit faster?” – he spoke with annoyance. You huffed loud, muscles soring up. – “Yes my lord.” – you obliged like a good girl. You started rowing faster and harder, feeling it immediately in your muscles. A pair in another boat raised their eyebrows at you.

Gritting your teeth you pushed through to row the boat around. – “My lord are … you enjoying … the view?” – you asked out of breath. Cheeks flashing with heat from the work-out. He remained silent, haunting the boat ride with it. Clenching your jaw, you felt yourself weaken with rows. Wondering why he was making you do this labor? You felt the wood roughen your palms.

Biting your lip, you tried to keep in any tears. It was so obvious to anyone he was making you do the labor he should be doing. It didn’t even seem to care him. Suddenly the idea of Hubert was very different. From someone you thought would be yours truly, he sure made you do work hard for it. You were slowing down, unable to keep up with it. Your muscles were so sore it used up a lot of effort to even move them. – “Why are you slowing down? Keep it up girl!” – he made clear.

His words stinging like a sharp knife in your heart. Looking up, you blinked rapidly to stop yourself from crying. – “Yes my lord.” – you replied softly. You groaned quietly rowing harder. Putting more work to your labor. Out of breath, you needed to use both hands to push one oar to make the turn. Grabbing the other one once more, you rowed back. – “My lord… are… are you rested well enough?” – you asked hinting to him to take over. He shook his head. Barely lifting a finger in assisting you. Your shoulders slouched with sadness.

Hardening your expression there even boiled some anger towards him. If this was how married life with him would be, you didn’t want it. Him making you do all the work while he enjoys your torture. You kept rowing as the mainland got in view. The colorful tents overtowering the ton. Hearing their laugher carry over with the wind it made you even angrier.

On the mainland looked Anthony briefly up, eyelashes fluttering to be certain it was you he saw on the lake. His eye narrowed trying to focus on you. – “Mama.” – Anthony said without adverting his eyes from you. Violet stopped talking to Lady Danbury, acknowledging her son. – “Is that Y/n on the lake?” – he wondered wanting to be certain. Violet turned her head. – “Why yes she is.” – she answered with smile. – “With a lord.” – she expressed giddy. Anthony’s eyes widened Violet tapped him on the chest.

“Do you know the lord? What is his name?” – she wanted to know. – “I don’t know.” – Anthony replied slightly worried. His eyes widened even more silencing his mother from asking any more questions, seeing you row. His expression hardened with anger. – “He’s making her row!” – he blurted out angered. He looked back, putting his fingers in his mouth to whistle loud. Colin and Benedict looked his way. Anthony called them over with one firm motion of his head. Colin and Benedict didn’t waste another second, hurrying over to his side.

He pointed at you on the lake. – “That little liar.” – Colin cursed out, clenching his hand. Anthony looked confused with a sharp edge to it at him. – “She told me she needed to ask mama a question.” – Colin filled in. – “Clearly she didn’t.” – Anthony bit back bothered. – “Why is she rowing?” – Benedict questioned. – “Shouldn’t he be rowing? Why is he making her do the labor?” – it didn’t sit right with him. – “I’m going to end this.” – Anthony said heading towards the lake. Benedict and Colin hurrying behind him.

On the lake Hubert put you to a stop. You exhaled loud and exhausted. Perhaps a bit too loud. You offered him the oars, smiling at his gratitude of taking over your task. You furrowed your brows when he pushed the oar down. He came closer making you wary. – “What are you acting upon my lord?” – you wondered. He forced himself onto you, making you push him off. It clearly didn’t set with him. – “Do you not love me?” – he asked or rather demanded.

His question baffled you. – “If you want to become a good wife you’ll listen to me!” – he said coming closer again. – “No!” – you called out, battling him away as he tried to force a kiss on you once more. – “I am just showing you my love!” – he yelled getting angry. – “It isn’t love if you force me!” – you yelled back kicking him against the knee. He groaned in pain, holding his knee.

You crawled further up the boat, wondering how you’d get out of this situation. Heck you’d jump out of this boat if it meant escaping him. Hubert rose standing tall. He grabbed you by your arm, yanking on it. – “ A good wife does as she is told.” – he rose his hand ready to strike you.

Anthony was boiling with rage already undoing one shoe of his to jump in the water. Benedict stopped a pair from getting in a boat so they could get in. Colin calling out your name from afar. You gasped seeing his hand go down ready to hurt you. Looking away, you kicked your foot up out of instinct. You felt his chest under your shoe followed by a splash. Opening your eyes, you stared at an empty boat. You crawled over to the other side, looking over the edge. Hubert resurfacing as he spewed out some water. – “Good thing we aren’t married yet!” – you shouted at him.

You grabbed the oars, finding the last bit of strength of yours to row back to shore. Out of breath you reached the platform. Anthony and Benedict hoisted you up from the boat, wrapping their arms around you. – “Where is he? Who is he?” – Benedict called out angered. You cried against your brothers chest. – “I am sorry… I thought he was the one, but he is not. He was so commanding all of the sudden. Making me row, the silence, the insults…” – you cried out.

Anthony hugged you tighter. Hubert swam to the platform as Colin stepped away to let him get up on it. – “Look what you did!” – he shouted with a stern finger at you. Benedict puffed his chest up. He pushed Hubert hard, sending him back into the water. – “If I see you near my sister one more time I’ll make you scream for mercy!” – Benedict threatened.

Anthony handed you over to Colin who comforted you. Hubert came climbing up the platform once more, chest laying on the edge ready to push himself up. Anthony lowered himself smiling angrily. He pushed Hubert back by his forehead, sending him back down.

“You are lucky there are witnesses or I wouldn’t be so well-mannered!” – Anthony called out. Hubert staid in the water afraid to get out and be plunged back by any of your brothers. Your brothers and you left returning to mama. – “Thank you.” – you told them. – “Family is always a priority. First and upmost.” – Anthony answered.  

--------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! 

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #violet bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #edwina sheffield #lady danbury #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #sister!reader #bridgerton brothers #benedict bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton x you #bridgerton siblings #sibling!reader #reader x bridgerton #bridgerton imagines

[sunflower-lilac42]

✧ 𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | the hughes brothers ♔

summary: y/n hughes was always there for her brothers except for the first time they played against each other and she's worried they are mad at her.

warnings: crappy writing; kinda rushed bc i was excited, doesn't 100% make sense

notes: another one because i seriously can't help myself :)

part two (uncovered feelings) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Y/n had always felt left out. It wasn’t anyone’s fault and she was used to it by now. It was the story of her life. When she was younger she’d always go to her brothers' hockey games and support them no matter what. She hadn’t missed one and if she had it was only one or two due to something significant going on that she couldn’t miss, whether it was for school or if it was for an extracurricular. 

The same couldn’t be said about her brothers. It wasn’t that they weren’t supportive of her, but rather they were too tired or some other (lame) excuse as to why they wouldn’t go. She wasn’t completely bothered by it but she would’ve liked it if they came just once or twice. She understood they were busy and at least she had her parents, that’s more than some people could say.

So when the day came when the three of them were playing each other for the first time in NHL history, she felt bothered that she couldn’t come. She wanted to come so badly but simply couldn’t drop her schoolwork to go to a different country to watch her brothers play hockey, especially on a Tuesday. 

She was worried her brothers would think differently of her, this was the first time that she wouldn’t be able to go to an important game without a concrete reason except for the fact that she didn’t want to have to deal with flying when she had class the next day. It wouldn’t have been the first time when she was at school she would’ve missed class but she relented missing class if it wasn’t for a good reason. Not that this milestone of her brothers and them making history is not important but at some point, she had to put herself first. 

She couldn’t sit still at all the whole day, anxiously awaiting for the game to start, It wouldn’t start until 10 her time but she wasn’t about to miss this game especially if she wasn’t there in person to see it. In the back of her mind, she had this nagging feeling that her brothers were mad at her. This feeling that they were pissed that she couldn’t be there for an important game. 

It seems that throughout their careers they had always seemed to forget that she was there for everything for them and they weren’t there for almost anything.  Their first game in the NHL, she was there missing school because she had nothing going on the day of/the next day. Their first NHL point, by some miracle she was there too. The first time Jack played Quinn in the NHL, she was there. She was there for everything and all they were there for was her graduation, not that she had complained about it. But when it was senior night for her, they weren’t there. In her last performance/game in high school, they weren’t there. She understood that being a professional hockey player was extremely time-consuming but was it too much to ask for them to be there just once?

They always forgot about the little things. She sacrificed a majority of her after-school hours when she was younger going to their games. It was her choice, yes, but most of the time she was a tiny bit forced to go. She didn’t complain though.

✧༺✎༻∞

Being in college was a different experience for her. She felt free but alone at the same time. When the brothers were at school, well Quinn and Luke, they had the other(s) at home in school. They were never truly by themselves. But now Quinn’s in Vancouver and Jack and Luke are in New Jersey, and she was all alone in Michigan. She was honestly falling apart. 

The days leading up to the game she felt horrid. The three of them got to hang out with each other since both of their teams had off days and she could only wish to be out there with them. She listened to each of their interviews, including her parents, and she was sad. It got so bad and she felt so guilty that she couldn’t do anything but call them in hopes that they would answer. 

When she called it was late, for her, at night and she was hoping that the three of them would be together despite their pregame rituals. Hitting the call button under Luke’s contact, she waited in anticipation for them to answer. 

In Vancouver, the three were sitting at the table in Quinn’s place playing games and catching up and their parents had decided to go out for dinner so they were alone. Luke’s phone sat beside him on the table as he made his move. The phone vibrated against the table but in the middle of the action in the game, he didn’t answer nor did he see who was calling. 

When he finally looked down at his phone to see who called him his eyebrows furrowed and called back but didn’t receive any response, “That’s weird.”

Jack and Quinn look up from their respective seats and tilt their heads, “What?”

“Y/n called and I tried calling her back but she didn’t answer.”

“Maybe it was on accident?” Jack asked but Quinn knew better, “It’s almost midnight in Michigan and she always sleeps with her phone on her desk, there’s no way it was an accident.”

Quinn pulled out his phone from his pocket and attempted to call his sister as well, but like his brother, he received no answer. The three brothers looked at each other worriedly when Jack’s phone rang. It was an unknown number and he didn’t know if he should answer or not. Too worried about his sister, he answered the call without precaution, “Hello?”

His older and younger brother watched him intently, waiting for any tell-tale signs that he had information on their sister. 

“Is this Jack?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“It’s Lila, y/n’s roommate. I know you guys are probably busy right now but I think she’s having a panic attack. She was in the living room with me and some of our other friends and she was on her phone but she locked herself in her room not too long ago and she left her phone out here.”

Jack’s eyes widened, “Can you give her the phone please?” Jack put the phone on speaker and pulled it away, turning the volume up and quietly explaining to his brothers what had happened.

They could hear Lila on the other end trying to get y/n to open the door, “Y/n/n, come on open up. Your brothers are on the phone, they want to talk to you.”

She didn’t get a response, so she tried again, “Y/n, we’re worried about you. Please open the door, or at least talk to your brothers.” The door clicked open and she held out her hand. Lila hung up on her end, causing a breif panic to flow through the Hughes boys, but Lila called back from y/n’s phone and handed gave it back to the girl.

Y/n sat back on the bed as she waited to hear her brothers’ voices, “Y/n/n? You okay?”

“No.” She cried.

Quinn ended up taking the lead role of the phone call, proceeding to ask what was wrong. 

“I’m sorry.”

Luke questioned, “For what?”

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for you guys.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not mad at you, we promise.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’, okay. You’re at school, school is more important than seeing us play. You will have plenty of opportunities to see us play.” Quinn argued with the girl but she wasn’t having it.

“It’s your first time playing against Luke.”

Luke’s eyes held tears, he hated to hear his little sister in tears over him. Sure it wasn’t directly because of him but it had something to do with him, which overall meant he made his sister cry even though, that’s not the case. 

“So what? We play him again later on in the season and we will make sure you come out to see us. No biggie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure.”

The four Hughes’ continued to talk until she fell asleep and when Ellen and Jim came home and saw their three sons abandoned game at the kitchen table and sitting in the living room curled up on the couches near each other and Jack’s phone on coffee table with their daughter’s contact on it, it warmed their hearts.

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x sister!reader #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x sister!reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x sister!reader #qh43 #lh43 #jh86 #hughes brothers #hughes!sister #hughes brothers x reader #hughes brothers x sister!reader #sister!reader

[barbiedragon]

Scarlet Bound Chapter 1

Daemon Targaryen x sister!reader

Rating: T (will be adjusted for each chapter)

Warnings: Canon character deaths, heavy on the angst, shifting perspectives, canon divergence, Targcest, arranged marriage

Summary: Born in 84 AC, you are the only daughter of Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen and the younger sister to Viserys and Daemon.  Nurtured at the hands of your grandmother, Alysanne, the red string of fate begins to pull you down your chosen path, beginning with your marriage to Daemon.

WC: 3.5k

A/N: While series are usually not my preferred storytelling method, I had this little brain worm that wouldn’t let go.  I did a wee bit of timeline adjusting. A big thanks to  @obsidian-hearts for beta reading for me. 💕💕

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

84 AC

“The babe is a healthy girl!” the Maester proclaimed once the newborn was safely emerged and in his hands. This labor had been most strenuous on Alyssa, but she was certain she would recover soon.

“A girl?” Alyssa asked in surprise.  She had been certain it would be a third boy.  

“Indeed, princess, she is lovely, it seems she has inherited your eyes, but that might change with time,” the Maester replied before he placed the wrapped bundle in her arms.  She was surprised to see an eye of green and an eye of violet peering up at her.  Unnerving, if she truly admitted her thoughts at that moment, but it was of no matter.  She was sure the boys would adore their sister, and Baelon would certainly be smitten.

“I heard the wonderful news,” Baelon grinned as he entered the room. He had oft wanted to be present, but the moment Alyssa would groan in pain, he would be ready to punch the Maester and yell everyone away from the room.  He bent to kiss his cherished wife before he held his daughter in his arms.

“I had hoped to give you another son,” Alyssa chuckled.

“You have already given me two, a daughter is most welcomed. The Targaryen line cannot survive on men alone,” Baelon said, feeling his heart swell as he looked down at those same mismatched eyes that he had fallen in love with many years ago. The look of pride in his eyes made warmth spread through Alyssa.

“You were made for battle; I was made for this.  Viserys, and Daemon, and Aenya.”

“Oh, so you’ve decided I see,” Baelon chuckled.

“I did bring her into this world,” Alyssa countered with a smirk, “Do you like it?”

“Very much.  Our little Aenya.”

“As soon as I am well, let’s make another.  I want to give you twenty sons, mayhaps another daughter. An army of your own!”

“Seven hells, I’m not sure how we would handle so many. Let us focus on getting you healed and rested my heart, then we shall see.” Baelon smiled as Aenya closed her eyes.  “I heard from the keepers that a fresh clutch was found,” he continued, “and they believe it to be from Meleys.”

“Mayhaps you can take the boys to fetch one for her cradle later,” Alyssa smiled before she winced.

“Rest, my love,” Baelon said fondly, “I will introduce the boys to their sister.”

“I love you,” Alyssa whispered.  

Those would be the last words he would ever hear from his beloved wife before the wretched curse of childbirth stole her away, as it had many women before.

~~

Even at a young age, Daemon possessed the fire of a true Targaryen.  Fearless and brazen, he dashed his way into the dragon pit to procure an egg for his baby sister.  Rumor was that Meleys had laid a clutch, and it seemed only fitting that the egg given to the newest Targaryen princess be from the dragon that belonged to their mother.  Unafraid, he darted past the keepers when he spotted the shiny crimson egg that emulated the fiery color of Meleys’s scales. However, he barely managed to wrap his small fingers around it before he was pulled away.  He clutched it tightly to his chest as he was carried back inside. He, Viserys, and their baby sister had already lost their mother; Daemon would not lose this small piece of her.

“Daemon, what in the seven hells were you thinking?!” Baelon scolded once the guards had returned the boy safely.

Daemon held the egg up proudly.  “For her,” he whispered, lilac eyes filled with unshed tears.  Baelon softened as he bent to kiss his son’s silver hair.  Alysanne stood by the cradle, her hand resting on the small babe’s stomach as she wrestled with her own grief.  Another child lost (Aegon, Daenerys, Daella, Gaemon, and Valerion; names she would never forget - nor Saera, who was now banished), but she swore upon the old and new Gods to protect this one with every bit of her.

“Go and help your brother,” Jaehaerys encouraged Viserys as he gave the boy a gentle nudge forward.

“You picked a good one,” Baelon praised as the boys placed it into their sister’s cradle.  “Your mother would have….” His voice caught and broke as tears spilled down his cheeks while he watched Viserys tuck the scaled egg against the pillow.  The small babe cooed; having no understanding of the grief that overtook them.

Daemon hoisted himself up to peer in at her.  Her eyes were the same as their mothers; one of green and one of violet, but her hair was kissed with the beautiful Targaryen silver.  His young heart felt heavy, yet hopeful as he watched her small chest rise and fall with each breath. He would ensure nothing in this world ever harmed her.

The next morning when daylight broke through the room, Baelon wrapped the babe securely against his chest.  A sleepy yawn escaped her tiny mouth before she snuggled into him for warmth.  The crimson egg - still nestled in the cradle - sparkled in the sunbeams.  His small daughter remained in a peaceful sleep during the ride to the dragon pit.  The sounds of Meleys braying deeply in her grief could be heard throughout the Kingdom.  Vhagar loomed just outside, sensing her rider close by.  While Alyssa no longer lived, Baelon was determined to continue the tradition.  Viserys and Daemon had flown at this age and now his daughter would as well.

Once secured in the saddle, he commanded Vhagar to fly.  When among the white, fluffy clouds and bright blue sky, Aenya opened her eyes and smiled. With one hand on the reins, and one hand gently pressed to her small back to keep her secure, Baelon felt his heart lift for the first time in months. While the fleeting, teasing promise of twenty children did not come to fruition, he dearly loved the three with which Alyssa had blessed him, and he would do everything he must to protect them.

~~

90 AC

“Mumuñus, tell me more about Mama, please?” you requested as you crawled clumsily into Alysanne’s lap while hugging the red dragon egg close to your chest.  It had not hatched, yet you still clung to it with wide-eyed hope.  You were always seen about the castle with it in your arms.  Even your father couldn’t pry it from you when he tucked you in for slumber.

“My darling Alyssa,” Alysanne smiled as she stroked your soft, silver hair that reminded you of the sweet, first born daughter she had lost long ago. “I believed she would be a delicate little princess like my Daenerys, but I was wrong.  She was as bold as her brothers.”

“Like Daemon!” you chirped happily.  Your small fingers gently traced the Myrish lace that decorated the cuffs of Alysanne’s black sleeves.  It seemed the Gods cursed the Targaryens almost (mayhaps more) as much as blessed them.  Tragedy seemed to loom in the air for as long as your little mind could remember.  Vissera had died three years before and you still had the vague memory of sobbing into your grandmother’s skirt while she prepared to leave on Silverwing for Dragonstone.  Your father’s softness for you, and pity for his mother, had allowed you to accompany her.  Daemon had thrown a fit, your brother already upset from Rhaenys claiming Meleys, whom he thought should be his once he was older. Baelon’s steady hand on his shoulder settled him. “She will return to us, my boy.  Stand strong and firm.”

“Precisely like your mischievous brother,” Alysanne chuckled.  “Alyssa loved to spar in the yard with her brothers, ‘tis how she broke her nose.”

“Daemon promised to teach me how to hold a sword,” you informed her.

Jonquil let out an amused chuckle from her post by the Queen’s door.

“Oh, why does that not surprise me? It would be a useful skill,” Alysanne agreed.  Her sworn shield was a woman after all.  “So long as your Kepa approves, you have my blessing.  Just don’t beat the boys too hard,” she teased before giving you a soft tickle that made you squirm and squeal.

“I promise to work on my stitching too, and I told Septa Jenelle that I will learn the lyre,” you smiled.

“You will be very skilled, my little princess.  Blessed with beauty too, many will be after your hand.”

You shook your head.  “I will marry Daemon!”

Alysanne chuckled, thinking your mind may change as you grew older, but she also understood how strong the pull of one’s heart could be.  They had tried to keep her away from Jaehaerys and had failed.  Baelon and Alyssa’s love had shone through, and nothing could step between them.  Only the cruel hand of the Stranger had been able to sever that strong bond.

“Not Viserys? He is your eldest brother after all,” Alysanne said as she stroked your hair, thinking of tradition.  You wrinkled your nose in response.

“I love him, but no.  It will be Daemon,” you replied before you leaned closer to whisper into her ear.  “I have seen it, mumuñus!  In my dreams, leaves of red, my hand in his. Later, he shall wear a crown of bone, then the Conqueror’s.”

You felt her stiffen beneath you.  “We shall see, my little dreamer.  Now, how about we start our lessons today?  Especially if you will be Queen, there are many things you must know.”

You mustered the most serious look your six-year-old face could hold before giving a nod.

“I am ready!” you declared.  When you looked back upon your life in later years, the time spent with your grandmother was some of your favorite memories and prepared you for the path the Gods laid out for you.  Rocky though it would be.

~~

97 AC

“Daemon kelin!” (stop) you yelled when you saw his fist connect with Willas Bracken’s face, even though you knew there was no stopping him once the fire had taken over.  

“Do you think yourself worthy of my sister?  That a dragon would marry a horse?” he seethed with rage.  All the poor Bracken boy had done was place a kiss on your cheek and present you with a beautiful bronze looking-glass that fit in your hand.  It now laid shattered upon the floor.

“Daemon!” Viserys yelled when he finally joined the scene and managed to drag your brother away.  It could have been worse than the split lip, bruised eye, and bleeding nose.

“If I ever see you touch her again, I’ll find a hungry dragon,” Daemon growled as he struggled in Viserys’s grip.  You heard Aemma’s soft gasp followed by the clack of her shoes as she ran to fetch a Maester. A pang of guilt hit you, knowing that your good-sister was with child and should not be involving herself in such matters.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to Willas as you tore a piece from your underskirts to press to his bleeding face before shooting Daemon a cross look.  “You behave like the wild dragons at times,” you huffed at your brother before storming off to your rooms. 

You did not wish to admit that you were upset over the broken gift, now desiring only to sulk in peace in your chambers. You procured your crimson egg from the chest in which it was always safely nestled and hugged it close.  There was no chance of it hatching now, but it brought you comfort, especially during these times.

Lately, it seemed that turmoil and strife churned in the air at every turn.  Your uncle Aemon had been killed in Tarth, and your father had been named heir to the Iron Throne, though many believed your cousin Rhaenys should inherit, including your grandmother.  You hated to see her in such pain and knew the depression of not being able to ride Silverwing due to a broken hip, along with the loss of so many of her own children, weighed heavily upon her.

You curled into the corner of the chaise while your cheek pressed into the raised scales of the egg.  Now in the privacy and safety of your own space, your tears were finally allowed to fall.  You remained there well into the night, not attending supper despite your growling stomach.  As the hour of the eel approached, your guard opened the door to announce Daemon’s presence.

“Come,” you whispered softly and as the doors were shut, you slowly unfurled your limbs and pressed your feet to the floor.  The dragon egg rested by your side.  

His head bowed slightly as he held the broken looking-glass he had seemingly attempted to repair.  The silver strands of his hair glinted in the firelight before he placed it on the table and then approached you.  Neither you nor your brother spoke as he knelt before you, resting his head gently in your lap and wrapping his arms around your legs. His way of apologizing.  Your fingers moved gently through the silken strands to show your forgiveness.  You never could stay mad at him, and you were certain that both your father and grandfather had already given him severe tongue-lashings.  After a few minutes of the warm embrace, Daemon pulled away and reached inside of his tunic, producing two lemon cakes wrapped in clean linen.

You laughed softly before you pulled him up to sit with you while indulging in the cakes.  It satiated the hunger pains for now.  The night hours drew on, and Daemon fell asleep with you in the bed; neither you nor he were even bothered with changing out of your clothing.  You fell asleep with your older brother’s arms wrapped tightly around you, your head nestled under his chin.  You did not think such an innocent act would bear consequences the next morning when a guard was sent to summon you both before your grandfather.

Jaehaerys wore a stern look on his face as the two of you stood before him in the council chambers with unbrushed hair and disheveled clothing.  You gazed down at your clasped hands and then heard the familiar click of Alysanne’s cane.  Your father looked slightly perturbed by this gathering and would most likely blame Daemon.

“A young prince spending the night in a young princess’s chambers…did you think gossip would not spread like wildfire?” Jaehaerys boomed.  The lingering legacy of Saera was fresh in his mind and rumors still spread among the castle.

When you lifted your head, you saw Daemon’s clenched jaw.  “We merely fell asleep, your Grace.  You needn’t worry about it,” he hissed.  Your elbow gently nudged his side.  

“Daemon,” Baelon warned.

“Aenya?” Alysanne asked you, ignoring the men in the room.

“Nothing happened, mumuñus.  I haven’t even flowered yet,” you admitted honestly even if heat flooded your cheeks as you said so.

“Then the matter is settled.  Put the rumors to rest,” Alysanne told Jaehaerys sternly.

“You are to take the word of ch —”

She raised her cane menacingly at him, and the old king immediately fell silent.  “I take the word of my granddaughter, whom I trust, while you believe the lies of meddling fools.  Do not make me leave you for a third time, for I shall not return.”  The threat was heavy and rang true in the air.

“Mayhaps we can settle this all with a simple solution.  Viserys has already wed Aemma.  We should announce a betrothal of Daemon to Aenya,” Baelon said simply.  The golden pin of the hand clasped to his black tunic sparkled when the sunlight caught on it.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach.  Many dreams had floated through your mind; images of your hand bound to Daemon’s beneath the red leaves of the weirwood tree, the secret cutting and mingling of blood later, and his lips warm against yours.

Alysanne’s scowl turned into a smile.  “I had…thought of the Royce girl for Daemon, but this is a much better match.  You show good insight, my son,” she praised.

“So be it,” Jaehaerys sighed as he realized he would not win this round and did not wish to lose his wife in the process.

“Make it your decision, Father.  The realm will have reason to celebrate,” Baelon said.  A soft smile clung to Daemon’s mouth as he turned to look at you.  Those were rare these days and usually saved just for you. After he unfolded his hands from behind his back, he took hold of yours then pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The announcement was made, and preparations began.

99 AC

Aemma and Rhaenys along with your ladies helped to prepare you under Alysanne’s watchful eye.  Gnarled fingers gripped her cane while the golden cup laced with milk of the poppy trembled in her other hand.  It was clear how much pain she was in, but she was determined to see you wed.  There was pride in her heart as she watched her three granddaughters.  She did not think she would last much longer in this world.  The Stranger loomed close by again, but she’d rather it be her than another young life taken.  Gael’s recent death had almost crushed her. There was a soft swell under Aemma’s silver and sky blue gown, a new babe grew inside of her.  Mayhaps this one would be born healthy, unlike the other two, lost before they could finish growing inside of her.  Rhaenys had produced two healthy children, so hope was not lost.  Her elegant, dark hair was twisted in intricate braids on top of her head. A bit of mischief sparkled in her lilac eyes.

“Are you nervous, cousin?” she asked.

“A bit,” you admitted as she helped to lace you into the crimson gown decorated with delicate golden thread and black Myrish lace that rested just above your bust.  A gold necklace with a beautiful ruby drop rested at the base of your throat. The bauble had been a wedding gift from your father — an heirloom that had belonged to the mother you would never know.  Aemma’s nimble fingers helped to finish braiding your hair as young Alicent Hightower shifted forward with the rubies to weave through the strands.  She was only one and ten, but very comely and admired at court.  Alysanne thought she would do well in your service.  The butterflies in your tummy flapped harder once you were dressed and led out to the Godswood.  You glanced up into the bright sky when you heard the roar of Caraxes as Daemon flew him above the castle before landing the large red beast in the gardens.

“Seven hells,” Baelon sighed, watching as the young man climbed off the dragon before he took hold of your hand.

“Taking a page out of my book, cousin?” Rhaenys teased, having done something similar with Meleys when she married the Sea Snake.  Jaehaerys called an end to this nonsense while the soft sound of Alyanne’s laughter echoed in your ear as she patted Daemon’s shoulder. 

Your fingers laced through his, drawing in his strength and confidence to combat your nerves.  The day you had long dreamed of was finally here.  You barely heard the words of the Septon while you stared into Daemon’s lilac eyes as the red leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze. You don’t even remember repeating the binding vows while you watched Daemon’s lips move.  But you did remember the soft kiss pressed upon your lips and his hand cupping your cheek.  Fire bloomed inside of you. His forehead rested against yours as the union was met with thunderous applause.

The celebrations began; flowing wine, delicious food including lobster from Driftmark which quickly became your favorite, and people danced while you took in everything while holding Daemon’s hand under the table.  You were nervous about the bedding ceremony that followed, but Aemma and Rhaenys assured you it was not as bad as it seemed.

“We can see the love he has in his eyes for you, cousin. He’ll make sure you enjoy it,” Aemma whispered into your ear.

“You might be as bawdy as your mother,” Rhaenys teased, and it made you giggle.  You had heard those tales many times growing up.  You trusted Daemon would never hurt you in such a way that other men could.  The soft feeling of his thumb rubbing against your hand helped to assure those feelings.  The rest became a blur as you were delivered to the chambers you would share with your husband in just a thin sheath.  Daemon’s warm laugh chased away the nerves as he hugged you close.

“Avy jorrāelan,” he whispered as his thumb traced over your lower lip before he kissed you.

“Avy jorrāelan,” you repeated, still learning the tongue of your ancestors, but that one you knew well.

“Let us bind our blood,” Daemon said, pulling away to lift the shard of dragonglass off the table.

You wanted nothing more as you eagerly held your palm towards him.  A sharp cut followed by a burst of blood before palms pressed together.  Nothing would rip you apart.

Tag List: @borikenlove @welcometothelioncage @megatardisbaby @evisnotok @targaryenbrainrot @aemondsumbilicalcord @watercolorskyy @shruie @simbaaas-stuff @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @obsidian-hearts

#scarlet bound series #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #sister!reader #pro daemon targaryen #hotd fic #hotd imagine #daemon x female reader #daemon x fem!reader #canon divergence #targcest

[criminalamnesia]

If it's not too much would you consider a roommates! Gaz and Soap where you need temporary housing and they offer to put you up for a couple of months in return for some housekeeping and cooking? But then it's awkward sharing a space with three people and two bedrooms so you end up a free use maid ✨

so I’ve been thinking about this,,, and I’m actually changing your idea a little bit (I hope that’s okay!)

also I got completely carried away with this and I miiight already be thinking about a part two where things get a little spicier, like you asked! 👀 keep a look out :))

(also I will 100% write for roommate!johnny&gaz eventually but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head!)

you’re soap’s sister, and when you tell him you need a place to stay, he doesn’t hesitate.

it didn’t click in his mind how your moving in may pose a problem until he’s helping you pack your stuff into a van.

one— he lives with gaz, and he may have forgotten to tell his roommate that they’re adding a third to their already small apartment.

two— there’s only two bedrooms.

gaz was currently on a special assignment, so these two things weren’t a huge problem at the moment. johnny shoots his teammate a text, informing him of the predicament and apologizing for just now telling him.

gaz responds, obviously a little peeved, and johnny’s suddenly absorbed in his phone, trying to soothe ruffled feathers and make this work.

you’re huffing as you keep shoving boxes into the van, your muscly brother now too preoccupied to continue helping.

“little help here, johnny?” you call from the trunk, and johnny startles from his spot leaning against the side of the truck.

by the time he clicks his phone off and resumes helping you, him and gaz have settled things.

you’d have johnny’s bedroom. johnny could sleep in gaz’s room until gaz got back home. and the rest would be worked out at a later date.

————————————————

you’ve never met gaz before. sure, johnny has told you all about his teammates and his roommate in particular, but you’ve never actually met the man until now.

he makes you screech in terror, holding the broom you’d been using to sweep the kitchen up like a sword. he chuckles.

“how’d you get in here?” your eyes are wide, taking in the man in front of you, and then it clicks. you remember the pictures johnny had shown you.

this was gaz.

and fuck, he was hot.

“I live here, love.” he says, his tone obviously amused as he looks you up and down. “gonna put that down? or will I be sporting some broom-shaped bruises for the next week?”

“oh, sorry—” you scramble to put the broom down, leaning it against one of the kitchen counters. “I didn’t hear you come in, and johnny didn’t tell me you’d be home today.”

“he didn’t know,” gaz shrugged, walking further into the kitchen now that your weapon of choice had been set aside. “where is he, by the way? we’ve got a lot of talking to do. gotta figure out this room situation.”

you pick at your cuticles anxiously as you shuffle out of the way, allowing gaz to open the fridge. he grabs a bottle of water and twists the lid off, and you’re mesmerized.

wait, what?

you mentally shake yourself from your stupor.

“um, he’s at the gym i think. he should be home soon.”

gaz nods, taking a swig from his water. his eyes settle on you once more as he shuts the fridge door.

“but about the bedrooms,” you start, taking a step towards him. “johnny can have his back. im fine with the couch, and—”

“oh, absolutely not, love. I’d sooner take the couch than make you sleep on it.”

“no no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve already caused enough problems by moving in. please let me—”

he cuts you off again with a dazzling smile. “it’s settled, love. you’re not sleeping on the couch. and your moving in isn’t a problem, trust me.”

damn, he’s smooth. you feel your cheeks getting hot, and you have to force yourself to look away from him before you melt.

“okay, well, if you won’t let me take the couch, at least let me do the chores and stuff, yeah? it’s not like I have much else to do,” you tell him with a dry chuckle. the whole reason you’d resorted to moving in with johnny was because you were between jobs right now.

you quite literally had all the time in the world to help around the apartment.

kyle almost looks like he’s going to protest again, but he doesn’t. he must see how much you want to do this, how badly you feel for ‘interrupting’ (you’re absolutely not, and although he’d been miffed about johnny not asking him about you moving in at first, he couldn’t care less now. you were stunning).

at his silence, you give a firm nod. “alright then,” you grin, and he matches your expression. “nice to finally meet you, gaz.”

“kyle,” he says, and your smile widens the tiniest bit.

“kyle.” you say, as if testing the word out on your tongue.

“sis, y’home? I was thinking chinese for dinner!” johnny calls out as the door to the apartment opens. he steps inside, toeing off his shoes before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

“you shite!” johnny laughs out as he spots gaz in the kitchen. they both chuckle, embracing each other in short hug, slapping each other on the back.

“y’broken?” you hear johnny ask, and gaz shakes his head.

“nah, all good.”

johnny nods, patting gaz on the shoulder before his eyes shift to you.

“see y’ve met my sis,” he says, moving towards you and ruffling your hair. you groan, slapping at his hand. gaz laughs. “hope she hasn’ given ya trouble.”

“I just came in,” gaz says, eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

“so she hasn’ had the chance yet, then,” johnny jokes, and you roll your eyes. “chinese alrigh’ gaz?”

the other man nods, and the two soldiers fall into familiar conversation. you feel as though you’re intruding, and you attempt to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed, but gaz stops you by mentioning your name.

“I was just telling your sister that she’s not sleeping on the couch,” he tells johnny, and then his eyes slide to you. you look sheepish, like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“oh, o’course not,” johnny agrees. “I can take the couch, she’s my sister.”

“we could switch, yeah?” kyle looks at johnny. “that couch isn’t that comfortable, mate. I don’t wanna be hearin’ you complain about your back in a few days.”

johnny laughs, but nods. “sounds good. looks like you’re livin’ the life then, aye?” he says to you, and you open your mouth to speak, but kyle beats you to it.

“actually, we were just talking about all that. your lovely sister here was saying she’d like to keep the flat clean.”

“s’that so?” johnny questions, eyebrows raised as he looks at you. “y’don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, johnny. it’s the least I can do after barging in on your lives.”

you can tell by the look on your brother’s face that he’s going to argue, so you swiftly cut him off.

“no arguments! it’ll give me something to do anyways.”

johnny concedes, then excuses himself to shower. you tell him you’ll order the food as he leaves the kitchen.

you and kyle are alone again, and his eyes are trained on you. you clear your throat before fishing your phone out of your pocket.

“what’s your order?” you ask him.

kyle grins. he knows what he’s doing to you.

god, this was going to be an interesting stay.

—————————————————

author’s note:

this is my first time really writing both johnny and Kyle, so I apologize if they seem ooc!

#criminalamnesiaasks #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x you #kyle garrick fluff #roommates!gaz and johnny #sister!reader #f!reader #Johnny’s sister!reader #Mactavish!reader #call of duty fic #soap call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #gaz call of duty #gaz fluff #gaz x reader #gaz garrick #cod mw2 fic #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #fluff #best friends brother #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick x y/n

[cas-kingdom]

Dean Winchester x sister reader “Don’t tell Sam!”

(PS: I love your blog so so much 🥰)

The light suddenly switched on and your fork paused mere inches from your open mouth. Dressed in an oversized shirt and slippers, you'd tiptoed down to the kitchen the moment the clock had turned midnight, determined to fill your stomach with food you'd been deprived of for the entire day.

"You're not being deprived of food," Sam had insisted as he blended up the third green concoction of the day, "it's called a juice cleanse, and you promised you'd do it with me. Please don't be so dramatic."

Dramatic was the last thing you would call this. You couldn't quite remember agreeing to such a thing, though you'd been half asleep when he'd asked, and the sly thing had known it.

You turned towards the door, not even caring to hope it wasn't Sam. It wasn't. Dean, wrapped in a dressing gown, stood in the open doorway. When he noticed the pie on the end of the fork and his sister's obvious determination to eat it, he chuckled and leant against the frame.

"Well, well, well," he said with a click of his tongue. "Look who broke."

As he crossed his arms, you rolled your eyes and stuffed the piece of pie in your mouth. Blackcurrant. Your favourite. You shut your eyes, savoured the juicy explosion, and decided there and then that you would never again subject your poor body to one of Sam's healthy excursions.

Still... "Don't tell Sam?" you asked sheepishly.

Dean snorted and grabbed a fork on his way to sit beside you. "Like hell I would. Can't have my pietner in crime disappear on me now, can I?"

SPN Masterpost

#supernatural #Dean Winchester #Sam winchester #Dean x reader #Sam x reader #Dean Winchester x reader #Sam winchester x reader #reader #reader fic #sister reader #sister!reader #teen reader #teen!reader #mine #spn #Dean x Sam #Sam x Dean

[featherandferns]

slipping (fic)

jj maybank x fem!barry's sister!reader | the reader is canonically adopted so all my POC lovelies aren't left out!

content warning: drinking; brief mentions of drug abuse and suicide; sexual content (p in v, oral, hand-stuff)

word count: 18k.

Blurb: you and JJ have been in a secret relationship for seven months. And it's great. It's perfect. It's just what JJ's always wanted. Except, you don't want to be a secret forever, and JJ can't risk you finding out his history with Barry.

Barry’s house looks like a crack den. To be frank, the word ‘house’ is rather generous. It’s a run-down trailer which looks half-abandoned: surrounded by ditched appliances (like busted washing machines that people had driven out to the farthest stretch of the marsh rather than making the trip to the rubbish tip); overgrown grass and unkept shrubs; a car that no longer runs, pawned off for the valuable parts, now claimed by nature as roots grow within. The only sign that there’s life at this place - outside of the rats and critters and birds - is the tire-tracked make-shift driveway along the grass, so deep that it’s clearly well used.   

JJ parked his bike near the road, hidden in the trees of the marsh. His heavy boots sink into the grass - damp from the rainfall last night - and he shoves his hands in his pockets as he works his way up the drive. He knows he’s being somewhat brazen about the whole thing, heading up to the house in clear view, but he has good reason to. As he gets nearer, rounding to face the netted porch, he feels his smile beginning to show.

“Hey,” he calls.

You look from the motor you’re tinkering with. Smile pretty like the first sunrise of the year.

“Hey,” you say.

JJ steps up the three stairs in two steps. Leans against the frame of the porch.

“You here to pick up for your dad?” you ask. You’re wiping your hands on a rag that’s tucked into your short’s pocket.

“Not quite,” JJ says, watching as you stand. “Your brother home?”

“Who? Barry?” you wonder, playing dumb.

JJ rolls his eyes and smiles wider. “That one, yeah.”

“Nah,” you say casually, sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the back pockets of your shorts. “He’s running an errand.”

“Damn. Guess I came at the perfect time,” JJ plays along.

“Almost like someone tipped you off,” you reply.

You’re standing in front of him now, a little shorter than him. He can’t keep his hands to himself any longer. Hooking one around your waist, JJ leans down to press his lips to yours. The abruptness makes you giggle against his mouth and it keens him on. One of your hands lifts to stroke at his face; your fingers gently tracing over his stubble that’s coming through since the last shave. Pulling back, you smile up at him. That sweet, soft smile that he’s privy to.

“Thought you weren’t gonna get here ‘til later,” you quietly say. He notices that your eyes keep flitting down to his lips, half-distracted.

“Missed my girl.”

“Your girl?” you echo, quirking a brow.

JJ doesn’t reply outside of a shrug. You chuckle, blinking up into his eyes. He feels like he could drown in yours. Bathe in the endlessness of them.

Your arms loop around his neck, tugging him down nearer to your face. JJ lets his hands rest on your hips a moment before swooping down to find home just under your shorts. His fingers tease under the denim, tracing the soft skin of your backside.

“You gonna take care of your girl or what, then?”

“Impatient, huh?” JJ chuckles. He cuts off his own laugh by pressing his mouth to yours once more.

You mould against him as if the two of you were made to be together. Follow the tilt of his head with yours as he deepens the kiss. Lusciously tease your tongue against his, pulling back enough to have him chasing your mouth. If he could – if there weren’t too high a risk with him doing so – he’d take you right here on the porch. Bend you over the abandoned entryway table or have you atop of him on the couch. But inside is better and safer, so he lets you guide him in, fingers dancing through yours as you flash a smile at him over your shoulder.

He can remember a time you used to be embarrassed of the interior of your house. JJ knew rough living – his dad was far from house proud – but Barry’s place was a different level. The stove didn’t work and the door hung forever open, broken on the hinges. Half the cupboards didn’t shut right and roaches were so frequent they may as well pay rent. But he never judged and never commented. Especially now, as you pull the two of you into your bedroom, pushing him against the wall with that contagious laugh of yours that makes him smile.

“Was thinking ‘bout you this morning,” you tell him. Your hands are working at the fly of his shorts.

“What about?”

He’s watching the nimbleness of your fingers as you pull down his zip. Has him grinning, body tingling at the thought and the excitement. Being wrapped up in you is like opium: euphoric and addictive.

“Just how good you fucked me last time,” you casually sigh.

JJ gasps through his brimming grin when you shove a hand into his boxers, rubbing at his semi. The way you look up at him, innocence faked on your expression like butter couldn’t melt in your mouth…it’s a deadly trap.  

“I got a little impatient waiting. Had to take care of myself this morning. All alone,” you go on, coiling a hand around his neck to coax his mouth nearer to yours.

Your hand is still working at him, pulling him out of his boxers now, and JJ stammers a moan against your grinning lips as you squeeze gently around the head.

“Guess I gotta make it up to you then,” he somehow manages.

“Guess you gotta.”

Moving to kiss him again, you move your hand faster. Take a moment to spit on your palm, to help it slide easier. JJ lets his hands roam your clothed body (why are you still dressed?) and settles on palming at your breast under your t-shirt, touch half-restricted by your bralette. As he feels himself edging, he groans against your mouth, breaking the messy kiss.

“’M close,” he sighs, eyes slipping shut.

The way your spare hand caresses his jaw is a stark juxtaposition to what you’re doing to him, under the belt. It reminds JJ that it’s you – familiar, perfect, wonderful you – and that only drives him closer. Has him moaning out, unashamed for you to hear the sounds he makes. Only for you.

“We got time,” is all you say, voice quiet like it’s a secret, and JJ knows that he can let go.

We got time for more.

He comes with a shudder, groaning against your mouth, eyes clamped shut as he pumps himself in your closed fist, chasing the pleasure. You kiss him through his orgasm, trailing them along his cheekbone and eyelids. He chuckles as he comes down, opening his eyes to take in the mess on your shorts.

“Fuck. Sorry,” JJ mumbles.

You shake your head. “They needed a wash anyway.”

The two of you laugh, prompting his eyes to meet yours once more. You’re smiling at him, leaning forward to kiss him again, like a diver coming back for air, over and over. JJ’s impatient now. Tugs your tee-shirt over your head and shucks down your shorts and panties, following them to the floor as he lowers onto his knees. Your skin smells like rose and bergamot from your lotion. The smell screams of you and makes him smile against your skin, leaning his face softly against your thigh as he presses kisses, teething gently at the skin. You sigh out a moan above him, leaning your hands on the wall for support. JJ eases your legs open wider, mumbling playful demands under breath that have you lustfully giggling. Then he’s going at you, eating you out like a man starved for dinner, and the sounds you make are fucking heavenly. Gasping out his name, your moans are cutting into each other like there’s two sides of your brain competing. He’s only motivated more, lifting higher onto his knees, moving a hand around to roughly grasp at your cheek, manhandling you to appease his hunger. Fingers dig deep into the flesh. He could quite gladly die here, JJ thinks, as he goes down on you. Sinfully sweet and salty on his tongue, like a forbidden fruit. The tell-tale squeak in your voice is his signal that you’re close, but JJ doesn’t want you to come yet. Not yet.

He pulls away with a breath. You whine in protest, one hand even trying to shove his face back on you.

“JJ…”

He can’t help but laugh. Teasing and dark. He gets to his feet.

Your hands are shaky as they cup at his face, pulling his lips to yours. JJ pulls you off him, forces you so your chest is against the wall. The hastiness has you panting. All of your snarky quips are gone, lost to his mouth and tongue. Shoving his boxers down and pulling off his shirt, JJ grabs one of your hands in his, holding it against the wall, fingers interlocked. He’s already hard again, guiding himself to your entrance, forcing your legs apart wider once more with a foot against yours. Eases in with a groan, collapsing his head against your shoulder, fixated on your wanton moan.

JJ fucks you good and hard. He knows how you like it and what you want. His finger slips down to your clit, rubbing fervently, and you whine against the peeling wallpaper of your bedroom walls. His other hand never leaves yours. Squeezing at your interlocked fingers lovingly, strikingly different from the painful pace he’s set.

“Feel so fucking good,” he pants against your clammy skin. Your only reply is a whine. “You getting close, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” you shiver.

It spurs him on. Makes you louder. It’s obscene and filthy and…And it’s over too soon.

You collapse against the wall when you come, voice so loud he’s only half-worried it might carry across the marsh. JJ shifts his hand away from your bruised clit to help hold you up. It’s like your limbs have turned to jelly. You let JJ use you to find his own relief, groaning against your clammy back as he finishes inside you and thank Christ for the pill. Through the euphoric haze, he half registers your fingers teasing softly at his hair, soothing him through it.

Breathing heavy, he lifts his head to find yours glancing over your shoulder, eyes watching him. You’re veering for a kiss and JJ gladly indulges.

“Jesus fuck,” JJ dozily mumbles against your swollen mouth.

“Language,” you reply with a small, breathless laugh.

The two of you can’t help but groan as he slides out. You wiggle your fingers against the wall.

“My hand’s going dead, JayJ,” you mumble, almost apologetic.

He lets go. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle.

Turning around, back now against the wall, you loop your arms around his bare chest and lean against him, the way a sloth might wrap itself around a tree. JJ sniggers, brushing a hand through your hair. He feels you press a tender kiss to his chest that’s still struggling to catch breath.

“You tired, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “You came at the perfect time. I was like one minute away from throwing that motor out into the marsh.”

JJ quietly grunts as he lifts you up – your legs hooking loosely around his waist – and he walks the two of you back to your bed. The pair of you cuddle up atop of the sheets, letting the few rays of sunlight that leak into the room warm strips of your skin. He finds himself drawing mindless patterns on the skin of your thigh, and you appear to be doing the same on his chest.

“Who you fixing it up for? The motor?”

“You know Mr Lewis?”

“Is that the guy who works at the deli?” JJ checks.

“Mhm. It’s from the delivery van. I told him I’d have it done by Thursday,” you reply, yawning. It’s currently Tuesday.

JJ forgets sometimes that you’re a high school dropout. You’re smart enough to graduate. Easily smarter than him. One time, when he was losing his mind over some algebra homework that his teacher insisted he do (that was, if he wanted to skip out on retaking a year), you had taken the time to explain it to him. The way you laid it out was so simple and easy, like reciting the alphabet or counting to ten. But whenever he asked why you dropped out you would just reel off the usual self-deprecating excuse. That people from your family don’t get high school diplomas - it just wasn’t a thing.

“How’s school?” you ask as if you’d been following his line of thought.

“Boring,” JJ sighs. “Bit more fun now that John B’s back though.”

“Still can’t believe they survived,” you say. Then, shifting to meet his gaze, you add, “not in a bad way, just-”

“No, no, I know what you mean,” he eases. One of his fingers comes to tease at a strand of your hair, smiling down at you. “I mean, I wouldn’t believe it either. Hell, I didn’t, for a while.”

You chuckle at that, nodding, lowering your head back down onto his chest.

This is good. This is good for JJ and good for you. Not only is it good, but it’s fun. A secret is fun. Nobody else knows: not even the Pogues or your brother. These clandestine meetings and rendezvous and unknown dates are the definition of excitement. Nobody knows that JJ spends nearly every night buried in you, and that the unsaved number on his phone is filled with sweet, soft and sometimes sensual texts that came from you. Inside jokes than have accumulated over the seven months of your relationship. Nobody knows that JJ knows Barry’s younger sister as more than just that flippant title. That he knows your favourite television show and your favourite singer, and he knows the way to twist his fingers just right to have you bordering on screaming. He knows what it feels like to have your mouth on him and your teeth biting down onto the skin of his shoulders, but also what it feels like to make you laugh and to see you work. What it feels like to be at the mercy of your stare. He’s lucky enough to be in your light and be acknowledged by someone so strangely pure for all the shit the universe had thrown your way. If JJ got dealt a bad hand, then you got dealt fake cards. But all the darkness and grit hadn’t made you mean or distant. Instead, it made you glow, like tossing logs into an open flame.

“Wish I could meet him.”

“Who?” JJ asks. He’s lost in thought, eyes staring up at your ceiling. There’s a patch of mould in the corner that you’ve tried to conceal with some cheap, fake ivy vines.

“The president.”

“Really?”

You snort. “No, you moron. John B.”

JJ’s attention comes back to the conversation. He swallows, somewhat nervous. He hates when you bring this stuff up.

“I mean, you have met him.”

“Sure, like I’ve spoken to him at a kegger like…Two years ago?”

“He’s really not that interesting of a guy so,” JJ lamely says.

“Not that interesting? JJ, John B was a wanted fugitive who lived in Nassau with Sarah for like a month or something? Come on!” you reply with a laugh.

He closes his eyes at the sound. You sound so light and cheerful. He just knows whatever he replies with is going to crush it, like treading on a freshly blossomed flower. Why did you have to bring this up?

JJ shifts so he can slip out of your hold. You move to sit, legs half crossed, and he can feel your eyes watching him as he leans to your bedside table for the box of cigarettes you keep there.

“It doesn’t have to be soon,” you quietly say to his back.

He retrieves a cig and slots it between his lips, reaching for the lighter. He’d engraved your initials in it the same way he had ‘JJ’ engraved on his own. Please, please drop it.

“Just…Maybe sometime this month?”

“They’re not very interesting people,” JJ manages out, voice muffled by the cigarette as he flicks at the lighter. He hopes it’ll discourage whatever interest you have in meeting his friends. Hopes his voice sounds casual. “We don’t do much, either. Just sit around and surf and stuff.”

“Well, same,” you eventually reply, happiness already dwindling. “So, I guess I have that in common with them.”

JJ leans against the creaky headboard of your bed and takes a puff of the cigarette. He looks down at the lighter as he fiddles with it in one hand. It seems you won’t let the topic go (not that he expected you to, if he’s being honest with himself). You grab at his attention by taking the cigarette from him, having a drag yourself. He watches as you exhale, smoke filling the space before you as you sit, naked and sweet. Holding it out to him, your smile is now gone. Instead, there’s this shadow of anxiety looming over your features.

“We’re together, right?”

JJ takes the cigarette back. “Yeah?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“An answer,” JJ clarifies. Then, “Yes, we’re together.”

“And we have been for seven months now, right?”

JJ takes another pull, looking away from you and to the doorway. “I mean, I don’t know the exact length of—”

“We have,” you interrupt, firmly. “Seven months, one week and two days.”

Crap.

“Didn’t know we were keeping score,” JJ nervously chuckles, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.

But when he looks to you again, you’re not smiling. You’re shaking your head.

“I don’t want to be a secret forever, JJ,” you say. “I understand why you wanted to keep it quiet at first. I mean, I did too. Whilst we figured it all out and what this actually is.”

As you speak, you gesture between the two of you.

“But…I’m tired of sneaking around, JayJ. Of lying to my friends and my brother. Of not being able to talk about you to them. Because…Well, because I want to,” you meekly admit, shrugging. “I want to kiss you when everyone’s watching, as fucking dumb as that sounds, and I wantpeople to know that you’re taken, and that you’re taken by me.”

It takes everything in JJ not to wince at that. He swallows down your words with an inhale of the nicotine. Doesn’t hold your gaze because how can he? He knew his lie would catch up to him eventually. JJ has a bad habit of spinning these fables as if he won’t get tangled in the mess of it. Hell, his bad habit to run his mouth is the reason why JJ can’t let you two come out to anybody, not even the Pogues. If even one person knows about the pair of you, then Barry will find out. It’s inevitable. The Outer Banks is a small place and news travels fast. The moment Barry finds out is the moment you find out what he did. It’ll be the moment he’ll lose you, forever. And that fear – that genuine risk – is far worse than having to sneak around, in JJ’s world.

“Hey.”

Your fingers brush against his, coaxing his hand into yours, intertwining the digits until you’re holding hands. He looks up at that, looks into your eyes. You’re smiling again, soft but solemn, like you’ve read some mellowing news.

“I don’t wanna rush you, okay? I just…I need to know that eventually, we won’t be a secret anymore,” you say quietly.

JJ smiles at you – the best smile he can manage – and nods. Lifts your interlocked hands to his tobacco tasting lips, pressing a kiss against the skin. Rose and bergamot.

“We won’t be,” JJ tells you. Nods, affirming it. Almost willing it into reality. “We won’t be, alright? Just a little more time.”

When you smile, he swears he feels his heartbeat ease. JJ’s thankful that you kiss him, because he can’t keep looking you in the eyes and act like it doesn’t kill a part of him to lie, straight to your face.

~*~*~*~*~*

U lol

JJ can’t help but smile at the meme you’ve sent him. It’s so stupid, hardly even a joke, but somehow it taps into his sense of humour perfectly. JJ sniggers as he replies.

“What you smiling at?” John B wonders.

JJ looks up from his phone. Instinctively turns it off before anyone can catch a glimpse of the screen.

“Just this thing,” JJ shrugs.

Kiara’s plucking the strings of her ukelele, lounging in the hammock that JJ nearly fought her for. He’s taken one of the deckchair loungers instead. Pope’s sat by the tree. He’s flicking through local history books, trying to see if there might be any clues in there about the island room. JJ thinks it’s a lost cause but got shut down the moment he started to say so. John B is still brooding from his break-up with Sarah. At least the boy wants to drink – now that’s something JJ’s glad to get on board with.

“You’ve been texting someone for the past half hour,” John B says.

“You stalking me or something?”

“It’s hard not to notice when you keep giggling like a girl at your phone.”

“Since when do I giggle?” JJ counters.

“Since today,” John B quickly replies. Then, he pulls out his phone and gives an award-winning impersonation. JJ gladly flips him off.

“I think our little playboy is whipped,” Kiara says from the hammock.

“I’m not whipped,” JJ says.

“But you are talking to someone?” she checks.

JJ rolls his eyes. He hates the grilling. Wishes they’d all back off. Despite his lack of an answer, it seems to be more than enough for Kie.

“Who is she?”

“Nobody. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ says.

“Those are two different answers, man,” John B tells him.

“I thought JB was bad at lying but that might’ve been your worst,” Pope indirectly agrees, not looking up from his book.

“Look, the important thing right now is getting John B macking on someone else, alright?” JJ redirects, pointing to his best friend. “The fastest way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, I’m telling ya.”

“Spoken like a poet,” Kie comments.

“I’m not interested in anyone else, JJ,” John B says. “Sides, even if I wanted to hook up with someone else – which I don’t - who the hell would it be?”

“Bro, I’m telling you, that chick in English is totally into you,” JJ says. “Like she’s practically drooling at her desk whenever she looks at you.”

“Is she now?”

“Yeah, man. I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”

“Debatable,” John B mutters, looking back to his phone.

JJ feels himself relax back in his chair again.

After the conversation the two of you shared the other night, JJ’s feels haunted. The way that you kissed him, all happy and sweet, when he’d just lied to your face…Kie would tell him that karma was waiting at the ready. That is, she would if she knew about it. JJ didn’t like lying to you. If he could, he’d go back in time and he’d leave the house and the money like the rest of the Pogues said he should. He’d do the right thing for once his sorry life.

Sighing, JJ rocks his head backwards and glances absentmindedly to the hammock. He’s a little surprised to see that Kie’s already looking at him. She’s watching him, practically studying him, and has this expression on her face that makes JJ swallow nervously.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. Looks back down to her ukelele.

JJ watches her a moment longer before finally looking away. It takes a liar to know one.

~*~*~*~*~*

The tide’s come in.

There’s barely any beach left and it’s pushed you back to the sand dunes. JJ cusses as he spots you, sat with your knees near your chest, staring out to the water like something from a poem.

“Hey! I’m here! I’m here!” he hollers, jogging over.

You turn around at the sound of his voice. No smile. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know,” he says, coming to a stop before you. “I’m sorry, alright? This thing, with the Pogues, it just ran over but—”

“And you didn’t think to text me?” you sigh, holding up your phone. “I mean, my legs are bitten to hell now by the skeeters.”

“I’m sorry,” JJ repeats, dropping to sit beside you. You shake your head, looking away, but don’t move your hand from his when he reaches for it. “I should’ve made up an excuse or something to leave early.”

“Or you should’ve just told them the actual reason why you needed to leave,” you mumble, ticked off.

JJ sighs and leans over, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. It prompts you to look to him. Your lips are still pressed in an unimpressed frown. He gazes into your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” JJ tells you once more, sincere and genuine.

You deliberate it over with a small sigh, rubbing your lips together in thought. Eyes scan his face and his features.

“Okay,” you relent. A twitch in your cheeks, teasing for a smile. “You’re off the hook. Don’t do it again, though.”

JJ nods, smiling too. “I won’t. I won’t, alright?”

“Okay,” you smile, properly. He kisses you, making you chuckle through your nose.

“You look cute, by the way. I like this,” he says, thumbing at the fabric of your top.

“Thanks,” you say. “If you weren’t late maybe I’d tell you that I like your shorts.”

“I thought that I was off the hook!” JJ loudly returns, making you laugh.

He grins at that. He likes when you laugh, and even better when he’s the cause of it. It makes your eyes go all crinkly and cute.

“Not all the way,” you playfully reply. “What were you guys caught up with, anyway?”

JJ shrugs and leans back on his elbows. The sunset looks pretty from here, over the horizon. It shines a tapestry of colours on your legs.

“Nothing important.”

Nothing important, asides from trying to figure out what the hell an island room might be.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?”

JJ’s head darts round to you with that, but you’re grinning at him, dispelling his worry that you’re onto him. There’s a smudge of oil near your eye from the latest handy-man job you’ve taken on. He licks his thumb and moves to wipe it away, smiling when you cringe.

“Like I would ever lie to you,” he jests as he wipes at your face.

You bat his hand away. “Ah, the thing every girlfriend wants to hear.”

JJ leans in to kiss you, unable to help it as if he’s craving another hit. He’s gently grabbing at your face to draw you closer. He swears he could make-out with you forever and never get bored. Screw food and screw water and screw air. This. This is what livings about. Humming out a moan, JJ eases you onto your back on the sand, hovering atop of you. His lips leave yours to trail delicately down your jawline. He practically purrs when you bring a hand up to play with his hair.

“You know the bonfire’s this Friday?”

“Mhm,” JJ hums against you, half-listening. His senses are flooded by the smell of you: roses and bergamot.

“You busy that night?”

“Don’t know yet,” he says, barely breaking away from the hickey he’s started working on, at the underside of your jaw. One of his hands slips under the pretty top you’re wearing, palming at your breast.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go,” you tell him. Your voice is a little breathless now. “I was wondering if you wanted to come too?”

“As in whether I’m going or…?”

“As in us going together,” you correct.

JJ slowly eases up on his assault on your throat. He closes his eyes, briefly tensing his lips together. Fuck.

“Well, I don’t know if I’m gonna be free that night,” he says, hoping to sound casual.

Your fingers tether in his hair enough to pull him away from your neck. It’s like you force him to meet your gaze.

“Well, if you are free, then do you wanna? I don’t know, I thought it’d be kinda nice? Could meet your friends and stuff, and you could meet mine,” you say, smiling bashfully.

And it’s sweet. It’s so sweet, and thoughtful, and if JJ wasn’t such a fucking idiot, it’d be the perfect way to publicise your relationship. It isn’t that JJ doesn’t want to. He wants to, more than anything. To have your hand in his in front of everyone at school, and to have you dancing with him and drinking with him, and to let everyone know that you’re his as much as he’s yours.

It isn’t that JJ doesn’t want to. It’s that he can’t.

“I, um,” he pulls away, resting back on his haunches. His hand slips out of your top.

You shift up to sit, watch as he looks away, down the beach. There’s nobody else around. The only thing you can hear is the lapping of the waves, the steady crash and break of the tide, and the distant calling of birds.

Clearing his throat, JJ rubs at the back of his neck and fixes his cap.

“I think if I go, it’ll, uh, be with my friends, you know?”

Quiet. Another bird. Another wave.

His heart clenches at the sound of your sigh. It’s heavy with disappointment.

“Yeah. Uh, right. Of course,” you mumble.

“Just cause like, it’s like a tradition that we go together, you know?” JJ tags on, looking to you. “And John B’s proper losing it with this whole Sarah shit-show.”

You’re nodding, lips pursed, staring down at your hands that twiddle together in your lap. You sniff sharply and force your face up to meet his. The smile you flash him is brief and fake. He can see right through it, like you’re made of sea glass.

“No, yeah. It was a dumb idea anyway,” you chuckle dejectedly, shaking your head. JJ frowns.

“No, hey, it wasn’t dumb—”

“—Look, I gotta be heading back soon. Well, now, actually,” you say, moving to stand up.

JJ watches you do for from his spot on the ground. From here, under the light of the setting sun, he can see the sheen to her eyes as if there are tears welling. Fuck.

“Baby, no, you don’t—”

“—No, no, it’s just cause it’s late,” you weakly continue, grabbing for your cardigan. You wrap it round you and glance behind you. “And I told Barry I’d help him with some stuff tonight and…”

By the time JJ’s on his feet, you’re already starting to walk backwards. You flash him another tense, painful smile.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Well, I’ll…I’ll see you soon, right?”

You nod. Give an awkward wave, in a way you never have with him before. “Yeah. Um, have fun at school tomorrow.”

Then you turn your back to him and walk away.

JJ watches after you, frozen in place like he’s stupefied until you’re out of sight, heading around the bend of a tree. He sighs loudly. He’s mad at himself. Frustrated at the bullshit of the whole situation. Why did he have to steal that money, all those months ago? John B tried to warn him off it but at the time, it just seemed so simple. He didn’t know you then. You were just Barry’s sister: a name in an anecdote, usually revolving about how you dropped out of Kildare High. But now…Now you’re you.

Yanking off his cap, JJ tosses it on the ground, grunting. Rakes his fingers roughly through his hair. He looks out to the water and the dusk-painted sky. Once he’s gathered himself enough to walk home, JJ leans down to collect his cap. He brushes some sand off it and watches how easily it slips away, and how much it resonates with the feeling that you’re slipping through his fingers, too.

~*~*~*~*~*

The bonfire is swarming with people. They stand in crowds and droves, chatting and laughing and heckling one another. Empty bottles and cans lay scattered around, making Kiara sneer and roll her eyes. JJ follows his friends out the van, hooking an arm over John B’s neck. It still feels a little surreal to have him close again and to be able to lean on him whenever. Part of him wonders if he’s still in shock, of having his brother back.

As they walk past Kathy, she’s handing over a red solo cup to John B with a smile. JJ smiles back at her, grins as John B takes a sip, and tries to pretend like his heart isn’t going to beat out of his chest with the anxiety that you might be here tonight. He hasn’t spoken to you since the evening on the beach. Doesn’t really know what to say or where to start, and you haven’t reached out to him either. JJ’s not sure a silence has ever stretched so loud.

John B’s still complaining about the break-up with Sarah. JJ tunes back in and forces his mind away from the incident on the beach. Thinking about it only makes him feel sick.

“So she’s like, ‘that’s it’.”

“I know. I know, I know, but dude, her father blew up right in front of her,” JJ reminds him, moving to stand to his side. “Just give her a minute, alright?”

Ironic, spewing dating advice whilst his own secret relationship is falling apart behind the scenes. But, hey, nobody sees you lose when you’re playing solitaire.

JJ’s eyes catch on to a small pile of cans of larger. Hell yes, he could do with a drink. He swipes a couple of beers and passes one to John B.

“In the meantime, shot gun, right now. Like the old times.”

“Hey derelicts!”

He spins around as an empty cup hits him on the back, coming face to face with the girl that had been eyeing up John B in class.

“Hey! There she is! That’s you,” JJ says, gesturing to John B. He whips out his pocketknife, slicing into the can. “I’m outta here.”

 JJ hunches forward a moment when John B jabs him low, making him spill his beer. Turning away, taking a swig, JJ looks around. No sign of you so far. Maybe you didn’t show up. Sighing, he glances down at his phone. No texts, no calls. Nothing. Pocketing it, finishing his beer and already starting on a second that he swipes off a pop-up table, JJ moves to make the most of the night and to get his mind off you.

The drinks continue to flow and the conversations come and go. The warmth from the flames of the fire lap gently at his skin, keeping away any summer night chill. About an hour in or so, he’s leaning against the wall, chatting to Pope and Kiara.

“What I don’t understand is, if Karen’s a computer then how come she still works under water?” JJ says.

“JJ. It’s a show about a living sponge at the bottom of the sea,” Kiara deadpans, raising a brow.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s aiming for realism, dude,” Pope agrees.

JJ shrugs and looks out to the bonfire, absentmindedly scanning the crowds. There’s a nice buzz to him, helping the drinks go down smoothly. “Just always bothered me is all. Like whenever Sandy—”

JJ could recognise you anywhere, even blind. You’re looking at him too. He freezes, beer halfway raised to his mouth.

You look pretty. A pair of shorts – the pair of shorts – and a t-shirt, tucked in. Hair styled all nice, with colourful grips that he can make out, even from over here. There’s a bottle of beer in your hand. At the sight of him, you seem to take a swig. It’s almost like you scoff, but JJ can’t be sure. Then, one of your friends seems to be gathering your attention and you don’t spare another glance to him. Strange, how awful it feels to have you look away from him; to act like you don’t know him from Adam.

“That Barry’s sister?” Kiara asks.

JJ comes back to reality. Looks to his friends to see their eyes on you, too. He takes a swig of his drink, digging in his brain for a new conversation starter to drive the attention away from you. He really doesn’t want to think about all of that right now.

“She the one that dropped out?” Pope checks.

“Yeah. Probably a junkie like her brother,” Kie says.

“She’s not a junkie,” JJ can’t help but defend.

She frowns at him. “How’d you know?”

“Well, cause, like…My dad buys from her brother, right? So, he’s seen her around,” JJ shrugs, cutting himself off with another swig of his drink.

She raises a brow. “And he’s told you that she’s not a junkie? How does that line up?”

“Didn’t you used to have calc with her?” Pope asks Kiara, accidentally saving JJ in the process.

“Yeah. She was actually kinda brainy, too,” Kie replies, glancing back to you.

You’re laughing. JJ’s not sure if he’s imaging the sound or if the noise is carrying.

“I’ve gotta say, didn’t expect someone who looks like Barry to have a sister like that,” Pope mutters.

“Well, she’s adopted, so,” Kie explains simply. It wasn’t a secret, exactly. People just seemed to know that about you. “There used to be three of them: her, Barry and Louis.”

“Louis?”

“The eldest,” Kiara says. “He joined the army too but died in action or something.”

He didn’t die in action. JJ knows that for a fact. He killed himself from the trauma of shooting a man dead-on, leaving a suicide note to explain. He also knows that’s what drove your mom to start abusing pills, becoming hooked on oxy and eventually heroin, until she died with a needle in her arm. He also knows that’s what brought Barry back home, from the army, to take care of you, as a minor, so you didn’t have to go into foster care. Only knows that he did it because it was his mom’s dying wish. He knows that you don’t do drugs, outside of drinking and cigarettes - not even weed. He knows it’s because you’re scared of becoming a junkie like your mom and dying like she did. He knows you didn’t join the army because of what happened to your eldest brother. He knows you prefer to do handy-man jobs instead of following after Barry with the drug-dealing business. That you try to talk Barry out of it almost every day because of all the shit hegets into. Like being involved in fights and helping fugitives and being robbed of twenty-thousand dollars.

JJ finishes his drink in two large gulps.

“I need a refill,” he mutters, crushing the can in his grip.

Pope and Kiara aren’t listening though. He looks up to see they’re now watching something else. He follows their gaze to see a fight breaking out. Squinting through the flicker of the embers, he recognises the flash of blonde hair and the dart of brown. Topper and John B. The trio rush over to help.

It seems the fight with John B and Topper is the warm-up act to the large tiff coming. Before things can get anymore ugly, the Pogues are rushing away from the rowdy crowd, back to the Twinkie. JJ leans against the open window, finishing his beer with a burp.

“Well, that was a little unexpected,” he sardonically quips.

“Was it?” Kie asks from inside the Twinkie.

JJ shrugs, bobbing his head from side to side in deliberation. Then, his eyes catch someone moving in the distance. It’s like you’re a magnetic, always grabbing his attention. Wiping the back of his mouth, gaze still fixed on you as you seemingly mess with your backpack, as if preparing to leave, he deliberates going over. JJ has enough alcohol in him to swallow his pride and do so.

“Hey, I’m gonna be right back,” JJ mumbles, stepping away from the van.

Kiara frowns at him. “What’re you doing?”

“I need to ring it out,” JJ casually lies.

Kie rolls her eyes. The other Pogues are too distracted by discussing the fight to pay too much mind. JJ slips away and follows you out of sight. Then, he quietly calls out your name. You turn around on reflex.

“JJ?”

“Hey, I just…Are you leaving?” he asks, stopping a safe, unnatural distance from you.

Your backpack is slung over your shoulder. You shrug. “Well, you and your friends kind of broke up the party.”

“Topper started that, actually, so,” JJ lamely corrects, gesturing back to the fire.

You roll your eyes. “What do you want, JJ?”

“I wanna talk,” he says, stepping closer. “About what happened at the beach and everything.”

“It’s whatever,” you sigh. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, almost nervously. “It’s in the past now.”

“Is it? Cause we haven’t spoken since and…”

You quirk a brow as JJ trials off. “And?”

“Well,” he sighs, sticks his hands in his pockets. Strange, how after being with you for nearly eight months, it still feels abnormal to be so affectionately open. “Well, I miss you.”

“Wow, what lovely luke-warm sentiment.”

“Look, I’m serious, alright?” JJ says, walking over to you. He grabs for one of your hands and fights to keep it in his hold. You’re obviously reluctant to talk to him but JJ knows you have a weakness for him. That he can sweet talk his way out of anything with you. Part of him feels guilty for it, but the other part is nothing short of relieved. He battles to try and have your gaze meet his. “Where’s your brother tonight?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

JJ’s pretty sure you’re lying. He gently cups at your jaw, coaxing you to look up at him. The two of you hold the gaze for a while. There’s a plethora of emotions swimming in your eyes.

Sighing, relenting, you confess, “he’s collecting. Won’t be back until early morning.”

“Like six-ish?”

“More like eight-ish,” you reply.

Leaning down slowly, pressing his forehead against yours, he lets his eyes slip shut. “I’m sorry for being an asshole on the beach, okay?"

Nothing. Then,

"Asshole’s a strong word.”

JJ smiles. If you’re cracking jokes in his favour, then you’re warming back up to him already. The spool isn’t too far unwound to be past the point of repair.

“I have to go deal with John B, but can I come by afterwards? Make it up to you?”

“There’s a lot of making up you have to do,” you tell him.

JJ grins. “Well, we’ve got a lot of time to get it done.”

His smile dwindles only slightly when you pull your face away from his. He opens his eyes into yours. You’re gnawing on your lower lip, deliberating.

“You hurt me, JJ,” you whisper.

He looks down. Nods and purses his lips. Hearing you say something like that to him feels akin to you hurling a well-deserved insult.

“Don’t do it again, alright?”

“Okay,” he nods. At the squeeze of your hand in his, he finds himself looking back up, meeting your gaze. He nods again, firmer. “I won’t.”

“Okay,” you nod back. There’s a hint of a smile peaking through again, like rays of sunshine breaking through clouds on an overcast day.

Kiara hollers JJ’s name from the Twinkie, in the distance. You lean up and press a chaste kiss to his lips. It’s rude how quick it is.

“Come by later.”

JJ nods. Kisses you back, harder, making you chuckle. Then he’s heading back to his friends, sending you one last smile over his shoulder. It feels so secretive as if something taken from Romeo and Juliet; it’s almost exhilarating.

When JJ gets back to the van, Pope is sat behind the wheel, drumming a tune on it. Kiara and John B are talking in the back, the latter holding a cold can against his banging head.

“Where the hell were you, bro?” Kie asks.

“Did you take a dump in the woods?” John B adds.

JJ clambers into the front seat. Pope starts the engine.

“All them cans, man,” he lies, glancing out the window. “We heading back to the chateau?”

“Uh-huh,” Kie affirms. She sounds sceptical, like she’s deep in thought.

JJ doesn’t pay much mind to it. Instead, he nods and hides his smile behind his fist, leaning an arm against the open window frame.

~*~*~*~*~*

Echoing around JJ’s head is the preen of your voice from when you came. Sedated and spent, it almost works well as a lullaby, soothing him as JJ lies on his back on your bed. Your head has found home in the nook beneath his collarbone, tucked under his arm, nestled like a bird on its favourite branch. He leisurely strokes his fingers against the bare skin of your back, drawing patterns, writing incoherent sonnets. You’ve taken to joining his sparse freckles up by an invisible line, traced with your finger. It’s peaceful and perfect, and you’re not mad at him anymore, and JJ feels as though he can breathe right again. He sighs. Stares at the ceiling.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“What the hell am I gonna buy with a penny?”

“Fine. Quarter for your thoughts?”

“Do I get that now or should I request a down-payment.”

“You know what? Forget it,” you huff, amused, nonetheless.

JJ sniggers. Gently presses his fingers into the flesh of your back as an undefined apology.

“What do you wanna know?”

“What you’re thinking about,” you quietly reply.

“I’m thinking about us,” JJ privately returns.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

And he is. Thinking about the way you were crying out his name, tears in your water line that only turned him on more. The way you whined when he roughly grabbed at your hips, pulling you any which way to appease the both of you. He’s still replaying back the crack in your voice when you came around him. After sleeping with you, JJ’s not sure how he can be expected to think of anything else.

“So, I wanted to ask you something,” you say, pulling away from his hold.

JJ’s peaceful threatens to break, like a truck rattling through a country line road. Please don’t let it be about the Pogues again.

“Yeah?”

The two of you naturally shift so you can look eye to eye, bodies now only connected by JJ’s lose hold around your waist and your entangled feet. It takes all his will power not to stare at your exposed chest. Namely, at the love bite he’s left on your clavicle.

“It’s my birthday next week,” you tell him, voice a little reserved, “and I thought we could celebrate together?”

“Oh yeah? I might have a few ideas on how,” JJ slimily jokes. He suggestively squeezes your hip as a smirk grows on his face. You roll your eyes and flush under his stare.

“Well, yes, that, but also…I was thinking a picnic? On the beach, at our usual spot? Just the two of us.”

JJ’s expression softens. He nods. You grin back in reply.

“Yeah?”

“Sounds good, pretty thing,” he says.

You laugh, raking a finger through your hair. “I don’t think I look all pretty like this but—”

“—I think you look the prettiest like this,” JJ grins in disagreement, leaning up to nudge his nose against yours.

Your laugh bounces off his lips.

JJ’s not lying. Seeing you post-sex is like seeing a Greek goddess in the flesh. Better, even. You sit bare for him, no shame in your figure and any of the so-called imperfections it holds. At the thought, JJ suddenly becomes more aware that he’s naked, too. To be so casual about it requires a trust between two people, surely, and JJ’s never been good at trusting. You, however, are trusting from the get-go. Naïve might be a better word, but that implies that you’re dumb and foolish, which you aren’t. You just have this hopefulness that everybody has a goodness to them, somewhere, deep down. Maybe living with Barry and his crowd drives that trait for you. People do bad things but they’re not bad people was the quote JJ knew you lived by.

JJ kisses you, sliding a hand up your thigh, chasing what the two of you had shared only ten or so minutes ago. You don’t seem to complain. You melt into his touch, kiss him back gladly, hook your arms around his shoulders.

“Wednesday. Next week.”

“Mhm,” JJ hums. He guides you to lay down, clambering atop.

“I’m serious. Seven P.M.”

“Yeah, yeah, seven,” he repeats against the flesh of your neck. He starts kissing down your sweat-sheened body.

Sighing, your fingers loops into the strands of his hair, tugging him to look up at you. JJ can’t hold back the quiet groan it elicits. He loves when you do shit like that. He meets your gaze and this might be the best angle he’s ever had of you, looking up from down below, making out your hooded gaze past your breasts. He feels himself harden at the sight.

“Tell me when and where,” you demand.

JJ manages not to roll his eyes. He presses a kiss to your tummy. “Seven P.M.”

A kiss to your abdomen. “Wednesday.”

A kiss to your pelvic bone, that has you exhaling in bated anticipation. He grins. “At our spot on the beach.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

With that, JJ goes down on you. He’s insatiable.

You’re still soaked from the last time you two fucked. The flavour of your cum mixed with his is fucking pornographic. Pair that with the sounds JJ spurs from you and he’s sure that the two of you have your tickets for hell already in your wallets. No complaints. If this is hell, JJ will gladly burn, all day long.

“Stop wriggling,” he says, lips wet.

“‘m sensitive, you asshole,” you slur.

“That how you should be talking to the guy eating you out right now?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

You hook a leg over his shoulder, urging him back to your cunt. JJ chuckles darkly before pushing your legs open wider, going in again with newfound hunger, bathing in your cries and cusses. He’s only known religion when he’s lied with you. As he lips suckle at your clit, he teases your weeping entrance with his finger. Pushing in, his silver ring cooly slides against your walls. You whine out, fucked up and pretty, and JJ rocks against the mattress, hard again.

“Fuck, JJ,” you whimper.

He glances up a moment to see you’re rubbing a hand to your forehead. Face contorted in overwhelming pleasure, there’s tears in your waterline again for the second time that night, and its JJ’s doing. It feels fucking fantastic.

“You close, baby?”

“Mhm,” you moan.

He uses his other hand that isn’t finger fucking your pussy to hold your hips down to the mattress. Picking up the pace, JJ works at you, watching your face as you teeter closer and closer to the edge.

“Come on, baby. Show me how fucking pretty you look when you come,” JJ grins.

Your body swallows at his fingers when you finish. Walls contracting again and again, JJ mouths swears against the soft skin of your stomach as he gently eases you through your high. There’s a quiet sob of euphoria.  

“Nobody fucks you as good as I do,” JJ can’t help but boast, slipping his fingers out of you. “Gonna fuck you so good baby.”

He’s shifting you onto your stomach. Your body’s pliant like a rag doll but he knows you can take more. You’d tell him if you couldn’t; if you wanted him to stop. But as you raise your hips up for him, body dripping with cum that has JJ almost falling over the edge himself, he knows you want more. It’s like you were built for him or something. The yin to his libido-oriented yan. When JJ fucks you into the mattress, your face is mushed against the pillow. Wailing and moaning and fucking desperate. JJ finds himself coming all too soon and he does so with a groan of your name.

~*~*~*~*~*

In between school and treasure hunting and sneaking to and from your house, life still happens. Bills still need paying and food still needs eating.

JJ became used to working like a grown man ever since his mother left. His dad was less than reliable so if he wanted a full stomach and a roof over his head (unless he took advantage of John B), JJ had to start earning. Mostly odd jobs and side hustles to prevent the pockets from going empty. Running groceries to figure eight with Pope always helped. The other Pogues decided to tag along for the ride, too. They’re lounging on the boat, waiting for Heyward to finish bagging up all the produce they needed to deliver.

Sound carries easy on open water. It’s the sound of your laughter that catches JJ’s attention. He glances over instinctively. There you are, stood with three people along the jetty. You’re wearing a pair of denim-short overalls with a tee-shirt underneath. Not any tee-shirt: his tee-shirt. It sits a little big on you. Your hair is pulled back and you’re smiling. One hand in a pocket and the other holding a screwdriver. You must be doing an odd job on one of the local’s boats.

“I didn’t know she worked on boats,” Pope says.

JJ looks to him. He hadn’t realised that the others had clocked you too.

“Junkies gotta pay for their stuff somehow,” John B mutters.

“She’s not a junkie, dude,” JJ sighs. “Just cause her brother is don’t mean the whole family is.”

“Why’re you getting so mad about this?” Kiara wonders, glancing to her friend.

JJ shrugs. Shoves his hands in his short’s pockets. “Jus’ don’t think it’s fair talking crap about someone when there’s no need.”

“Not just anyone though, JayJ,” Kie says.

“Yeah. I mean, did you forget the fact that her brother literally robbed us at gunpoint?”

“And that you stole from him?”

“And that he laid you out for it,” John B finishes.

“I don’t need reminding of all that crap, alright? I’m perfectly aware. Damn,” JJ snaps, shooting the trio a glare.

Pope and John B seem to shrug it off. Kiara’s watching JJ again. It’s starting to become irritating, like a pebble that you can’t get out of your trainer.

“Kie what?”

“Nothing.”

“If you’ve got something to say to me, just say it,” JJ tells her.

She shrugs and glances back to you. Then, she shakes her head.

“Doesn’t matter.”

JJ can’t help but use the opportunity steel another look of you himself. You’re nodding at something one of the fisherman’s saying. Taking a glance over your shoulder at the boat, you point at something. It must be about the job they’ve asked for you to do.

“I wouldn’t trust her to work on my boat,” Pope says. “All I’m saying is, that family is bad news.”

“Since when did we judge others from the cut?” JJ mumbles, looking to his trainers as he scuffs them on the boat floor.

“Since their brother attacked us,” Pope returns.

JJ decides keeping quiet is best. It has to be, because if not, he won’t be able to hold his tongue any longer. He’s going to fly off the handle, in your defence, and they’re going to catch on. Worse, it might catch your attention, and you might just come over and casually introduce yourself to his friends, as if they hadn’t been speculating about you behind your back. The whole situation fills JJ with anxiety. The secret isn’t feeling so fun anymore. It’s bordering on dirty work, pummelling him with dread and shame, the same way a dealer might sleep with one eye open.

Heyward is JJ’s saving grace. He appears with reams of carrier bags in a small cart, calling out for the Pogues to start loading up. Later, as they set off towards figure eight, JJ glances your way one final time. You’re watching him. The smile on your face is gone and JJ’s never wanted to see it more.

~*~*~*~*~*

Time always passes quickly with you. It feels to JJ as though you’ve both been sat on your bed playing board games for less than an hour when two have passed. He sits across from you, messing with his lighter, as you deliberate over your concealed letters. He loves the way your brain works. You always have the most creative mind. It’s a shame it’s going to waste, out here, in the trailer.

A small grin comes to your face. You gather up your letters and lean forward to reach the board that sits atop of your duvet. JJ shamelessly glances down your tee shirt as it gapes open by the collar. It used to be his but you’d claimed it a month into dating him. He didn’t much mind. It looked better on you anyway. It was the one you were wearing at the docks, yesterday. Neither of you had mentioned that though.

“Zealous,” you say as you spell it out on the board.

Your fingers tap on each block as you count up your points. The chipped blue nail varnish shines bright in the sunlight streaking through your bedroom window.

“16 points with a double letter score on the ‘s’, making it 17.”

“17 big ones,” JJ mumbles as he writes your score down.

“Read it and weep, baby.”

JJ sighs in thought and leans back on his arms, deliberating over his letters. The room smells like incense, done to counteract the stench of mould, damp and cannabis.

JJ didn’t even know ‘zealous’ was a word. He debates on asking you what it means but decides against it. He sort of wants you to think he knows the word like you do, well enough to pluck it easily from your mind. It’d be funny to see you and Pope go head-to-head in this game, JJ comes to think. It’s a shame that’ll never come to be.

“Okay,” JJ says after homing in on his word. He begins to spell it on the board. “Asshole.”

“JJ, curse words aren’t allowed,” you tell him.

JJ glances up at you, midway through spelling. “Since when?”

“Since always. It’s in the rule book.”

“Who actually reads the rule book?” JJ snorts. He keeps spelling. “Sides. It’s not a curse word, it’s a factual term. The hole of the ass: asshole.”

“Thank you for that definition,” you sarcastically reply.

JJ finishes spelling and he begins to count up his points. He feels his grin begin to morph into a cocky smirk as he totals up.

“10 points anda triple letter score and a double word score, making this…”

He drumrolls on his knees as he takes a moment to do the maths in his head. “44 baby.”

“What?” you bark, leaning over to check.

JJ sniggers to himself as he goes to write his points. The pen is snatched from his hold.

“Hey!”

“You’re cheating!”

“How am I cheating?” JJ laughs.

“Swear words aren’t allowed!” you loudly tell him. You begin to remove his letters from the board.

“Hey!” JJ repeats, lunging over to grab them off you. You refuse to yield, holding them against your chest. “Gimme them!”

“You’re such a child!” you say, beginning to laugh.

JJ glances up to meet your gaze as he replies, “and you’re not? Stealing my letters from the board cause I got a better score?”

“I can’t give up my ‘z’ just for you to get more than double the amount of points with ‘asshole’!”

“Sore loser,” JJ mutters.

He’s still battling you for the plastic letters. In the process, he ends up knocking the board, sending all the other letters out of whack.

“JJ!”

“That was technically you, bro…”

“Let go!” you laugh.

You’ve tumbled onto your back now. JJ’s laughing too, trying to prise your hands open. He grins as he moves a hand under the shirt to tickle at your rib cages. Now you’re in hysterics, crying out, shaking from the humour.

“Stop! Stop! You win, alright! You win!”

Your hand tumbles open and JJ steals the letters back. He lamely tosses them onto the ruined scrabble board with a chuckle, instead leaning down to kiss your giggling mouth. You barely kiss him back through your laughter. JJ doesn’t much care. Hearing you laugh might be the best sound on earth.

“You can’t just kiss me and think you’re off the hook for ruining the game,” you say, opening your eyes into his.

JJ rolls his eyes mirthfully, propping himself above you with one arm. “Well, I didn’t ruin the game—”

“—You messed up the board!”

“Because you wouldn’t give me back my letters!”

You’re vivaciously laughing again, prompting JJ to do so, too. He presses wet kisses to your jawline. Breathes in the scent of you – rose and bergamot – and wishes he could bathe in the smell. Wishes he could bottle it up and carry it around with him, so he never has to be without. He doesn’t say that though. Knows you’ll laugh at him if he does. Instead, he kisses you once more before pulling back to meet your gaze. You’ve mostly calmed your laughter now. Reaching up a hand, you steal his skew-whiff cap and place it on your head with a playful grin.

“How’s it look?”

“You’re almost as handsome as me,” JJ returns, flicking at the lip of it.

You snort. “Impossible.”

JJ can’t help but kiss you again. You sigh into it. Stroke lovingly at his jaw. The moment he pulls away for breath, you’re talking again. He thinks he could listen to your ramblings and never get bored.

“Can you sleep over tonight?”

Plucking out a strand of her to mess with, JJ replies, “what time’s your brother home?”

“Why? You wanna sleep in his bed instead?”

“Har har,” he deadpans. Blows a raspberry against your throat, making you laugh. “Seriously, though. What time?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Maybe one-ish, in the morning?”

JJ nods. He tucks the hair behind your ear. “I don’t think I can.”

You sigh, not particularly irritated, smile still on your face. “He’s not that scary, JJ. I don’t get why you won’t just meet him. When you talk to him, you’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t want him thinking I’m treating his little sister badly. Gotta wine and dine you first,” JJ returns teasingly. He lies through his teeth as if it comes as natural as breathing.

“We’re not Catholics, JayJ,” you snicker. “I don’t think he’d drop dead if he knew there was a guy in my bed.”

“Still,” JJ says. “I don’t want to meet him by bumping into him in the morning.”

You sigh. You run your fingers through his hair in a way that has him weak in the knees. JJ loves how you touch him like he’s something precious; dote on him like a rich parent might to their only child. The way you look at him, it makes JJ feel somewhere between a young God and an innocent man. It’s like he couldn’t do wrong in your eyes. The thought shouldn’t bring as much dread to JJ as it does.

“Could you at least stay over on Wednesday night? Barry’s out of town for a couple of days, then.”

“Sure,” JJ shrugs. “Why Wednesday?”

Your smile momentarily falters. “Wait, for real?”

Oh. Fuck, of course. The picnic. Your birthday. His mind has been so scattered lately, with sneaking around and throwing the Pogues off his scent, and the chaos with the cross and the island room and Sarah and John B…Days seem to merge into one. It’s hard to keep track sometimes.

JJ hopes he plays it off well as he grins. “I’m just messing with you. I know it’s your birthday.”

Your sigh of relief is a little too real. It makes him feel guilty like a man on trial. You gently bat at his chest. “Asshole.”

“Hey! That’s a 44-point word,” JJ winks.

You roll your eyes and smile up at him, and JJ considers staying like this forever.

He doesn’t miss how your smile doesn’t stretch all the way like usual.

~*~*~*~*~*

It’s starting to feel like JJ needs organisers for his mind and thoughts. They’re racing, twenty-four-seven, robbing him of sleep. Daydreams about the cross and what the hell the island room might be. Daydreams about riches if they somehow find it. Daydreams about the future, with you always finding yourself at the forefront. White dress, gold ring, swollen belly…Thoughts about you and fears about people finding out. About the robbery that haunts him and how, because of his own stupid choices, the two of you may never reach that future. How he knows that you’re slipping away from him, slowly but surely, like sand falling through his fingers, grain by grain. How he might not be able to keep his grip. How it might all have been inevitably doomed from the start. I mean, aren’t all the greatest love affairs?

“You’re thinking an awful lot over there, JayJ,” Kiara says.

“Yeah. You’re probably gonna end up hurting yourself,” John B adds.

“Charming, man. Thank you,” JJ sighs.

He tugs off his cap and tosses his head back with another deep exhale. The Pogues are lounging around at the chateau.

“What’s bothering you so much?” Kie wonders.

“You know, just…” JJ gestures lamely. “All this bullshit cross stuff. No offence, Pope.”

“None taken, I don’t think,” he replies.

“I mean, couldn’t Denmark have just written co-ordinates or something. And made a spare key,” JJ mutters. He’s aware of the glare Pope shoots his way. “Jus’ saying.”

“It is a bit cryptic,” Kie backs.

Pope sighs. “Look, it’s somewhere on this island. If we get to it first, then the key doesn’t really matter. All I know is that it’s somewhere on this island.”

“Great. That narrows down our hunt,” JJ says under-breath.

“So broody,” John B teases.

“Yeah. I refuse to believe the cross is bothering you this much,” Kiara says.

“Why’s everyone on my back all of a sudden?” JJ snaps, looking to his friends. “Like, can we all just back off for now, alright? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

John B holds his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “Easy, JayJ.”

“We’ve woken the beast,” Pope mumbles, making the other two laugh.

JJ rolls his eyes. He lays back on the hammock and folds his arms under his head. The weed and the liquor haven’t made him loosen up. His eyes trace the clouds in the sky above, through the canopy of the tree. Somewhere in his daydreams and thoughts, as the rest of the Pogues chatter, he ends up closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

When JJ comes to, it’s with a start. It seems to startle Kie, too, who’s sat on the grass, lazily thrumming her ukulele.

“You good?”

He sits up slowly. Rubbing his face, JJ retrieves his cap. “How long was I out for?”

“Three hours.”

JJ is suddenly awake, any drowsiness gone in a second.

“What?”

Kiara shrugs and keeps plucking out the easily melody she’s invented.

“We tried to wake you up but you just shrugged us off, so we thought it was better if we just let you sleep. Seemed like you needed it.”

JJ only half hears her. His mind is still reeling from the reality that he was asleep for three hours.

“Wait, what time is it?”

He retrieves his phone from his short’s pocket. Pressing the power button, JJ cusses when he realises it’s dead.

“What’s the big deal?” Kie mutters, watching him get to his feet in a hurry.

“What fucking time is it?” he sharply returns. He’s lacing up his boots again.

She mumbles a less than needed comment under breath but pulls out her phone nonetheless, glancing at the screen.

“Almost nine.”

No.

No, no, no.

It must be written on his face, the soul-crushing, body numbing horror overcoming JJ. The kind of dread one gets when they remember on some idle Thursday a piece of paperwork they needed to do the previous day, though only worse. A million times worse. Kiara frowns up at him in concern.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” JJ mumbles darkly.

He yanks his cap off and paces the garden. He can’t call you – his phone’s dead. Would you even answer anyway? Will you still be at the beach? Should he go? No, of course, he should go. He has to go.  

“JJ, it’s clearly not ‘nothing’.”

“It’s none of your goddamn business, Kie, alright?” he snaps.

JJ doesn’t have time to feel guilty for snapping at his friend. He has to see you. He has to make this right. The sand is falling through his fingers now, the gaps between digits nothing more than gaping caverns.

JJ pulls back on his cap and heads straight for his bike. He kicks off the stand and starts the engine in a hurry. Then he’s hurling towards the beach-spot; secluded and quiet and serene - everything JJ feels as though he’s not. He practically dumps his bike in the process of rushing to see you, racing down the familiar track to the dunes. He’s panting, panic deep in his chest, a hand coming up to rub at his heart as if worried it might beat out his body. He looks up and down the beach, searching for any sign of you, and then his eyes fixate on something. He runs over, ducking down to see it’s your cardigan.

“Fuck,” JJ mumbles.

He looks out to the water. It’s sunset. Reflects on the water, shimmers on the sand.

“Fuck.”

JJ tightens his grip on your cardigan like it’s a part of you and heads to the house without thinking. He needs to find you and make this right. The stairs creak under foot as he hurries up them, onto the porch and inside the house. Ditching the cardigan on the kitchen table, he makes a b-line for your bedroom. The door’s shut. Rapping twice on the wood, quick and short, impatient, JJ leans against the doorframe. Calls out your name.

“I know you’re home, okay? Look, can we just talk?”

Knocks again, louder. Tries the handle. Locked. He repeats your name, calling out to you, tone desperate.

“I just wanna talk, alright!? Please! I know I messed up but just hear me out and—”

The door swings open. He’s breathing heavy, trying uselessly to alleviate his anxiety, and looks down to meet your gaze. His stomach constricts like a boa snake. You’re crying. Shoulders hung like you’ve lost a battle and body sagging like you’re exhausted.

“I…”

JJ’s words die on his tongue. An apology seems so minuscule now. It’s like trying to put out a dumpster fire with a glass of water.

“I lost track of time.”

You scoff. Shake your head, breaking his gaze.

“You lost track of time,” you repeat, under breath, voice unfamiliar.

“I did and…I know I messed up, okay? I’m sorry I just…I forgot and--”

“You forgot? You forgot, huh?”

You’re looking up at him now but your eyes are narrowed. The pain has morphed into anger. Lips are downturned into a disapproving frown.

“Did you think that’s how I wanted to spend my birthday, JJ?”

“I know, but I—”

“No,” you interrupt, holding up a hand. The tears are still falling and each one feels like a pinprick to JJ’s chest. “I’m talking now.”

JJ swallows thickly.

“Did you think that I wanted to spend my eighteenth birthday on the beach having a picnic? I mean, did you think I didn’t have better offers? That my friends didn’t want to throw me a party, and that I didn’t want to get drunk and celebrate with the people in my life that care about me? No! I wanted to go for a picnic because I wanted to spend my birthday with you. And you don’t even show up! You don’t call me, you don’t text! You just leave me, sitting there, like a fucking idiot, on my own. And do you know the worst part, JJ?”

He can feel his own lips quivering. Purses them together to fight back the tears. He can feel the tapestry ripping.

You hold his gaze as your lips form a demented smile. A solemn laugh accompanies your confession. “The worst part is, I wasn’t even surprised when you didn’t show up. In fact, I had a feeling that it would happen.”

“Don’t say that,” JJ whispers.

“‘Don’t say that?’ What? Say that you treat me like shit?”

“I don’t treat you like shit,” JJ argues back. Because he doesn’t, does he?

“You don’t—JJ! What can’t you see here?” you snap at him, gesturing around you. “You’ve been losing me for a long time and you’ve just let it fucking happen! It’s like you knew you were on thin ice and you just kept on jumping! I mean, did you want us to fail? Was it easier than just breaking up with me?”

“Why would I want us to fail!?” JJ shouts back.

You turn around and retreat into your bedroom, shaking your head. JJ finds himself following.

“Answer me!”

“I don’t have to answer you, JJ!” you scream at him, spinning around. “I mean, how else am I supposed to interpret this whole situation!?”

“I love you, alright? Isn’t that enough for you?” JJ yells. His tone is angry but his face is crumbling.

You shake your head. Wrap your arms around yourself like a hug. “No! It isn’t! It can’t be, okay? I told you before: I don’t want to be a secret forever, JJ.”

“You’re not a secret—”

“Then tell me why I can’t meet your friends? Why you can’t meet my brother? I know I don’t come from the best home, JJ, and I know my family is a mess and I’m probably gonna end up in an early grave like the rest of them—”

“-Don’t say that—”

“And I know I’m not the kind of thing that people want to show off but…” You catch your breath through your sobs. Steel yourself. “But I’m a good person, JJ. I know I’m a good person, and I deserve good things, and I deserve someone who makes me feel good.”

“I can,” JJ pleads. He clears the space between you. Grabs for your hands. Feels the ground break beneath him when you fight out of his grip. “I can make you feel good.”

“You don’t, though,” you cry. “I don’t feel good, JJ. I feel fucking used.”

No.

No, no…It’s falling apart and JJ can’t lose you. He can’t…This can’t end like this. He feels like he’s a kid again, begging for his mom not to walk out, begging for forgiveness from his dad. It’s screamingly familiar. He can’t lose another thing. He can’t lose you. Wasn’t that what all this was for? The lying and the secrets was all some desperate attempt to keep you. JJ had to keep you.

JJ pants, stood before you, feeling more vulnerable than he ever has before, even more so than when he’s laid bare in front of you. You’re still crying and it’s because of him, and that hurts worse than any punch JJ’s ever had thrown at him.

“Tell me how to fix this,” JJ begs.

You shake your head.

“Tell me how to fix this,” he repeats, demanding it. “I need to fix this!”

You lift your head slowly to meet his gaze. He knows he looks desperate. Sounds it, too. But he doesn’t care. Hell, he is. He needs you in his life. With everything else that has been going on, you’re the one ray of sun, always warming his soul. His smile and his shine. JJ doesn’t know joy without you. Doesn’t know love or pleasure or trust, like he does with you. His daydreams of the future are falling apart in this moment. No dress and no house and no family. Nothing. Just him and a bottle and his wasted heart.

“Let me meet your friends,” you manage out. “I meet your friends, and you meet my brother and meet my friends, and we go on dates together like normal people, and we don’t keep this a secret. And you show up to my birthdays and you’re not late to our dates and you stay overnight and…And I get to have you. All of you. Just…Just do that and we can try and make this work, JJ.”

JJ starts crying. He’s sobbing, stood before you, because he knows that this is over now. It’s over.

You nod. It seems his tears are answer enough.

“You can’t,” you whisper. You say it, as though something has just become clear to you. Shaking your head, taking a step away from him, the distance is already gaping. You cry. “Even when you know you’re going to lose me. Your reputation is still more important to you than I am.”

“That’s not it,” he argues, wiping at his face. “That’s not what it is.”

“I don’t care, JJ,” you confess in a breath. Wipe furiously at your cheeks and stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t have the energy to care, anymore.”

JJ hadn’t experienced heartbreak before. The songs and the films lied about it, though. They play it down. It’s torturous. Slow and cavernous and insurmountably painful. He clutches at his t-shirt, over his chest, as if thinking he could make the pain stop. He wants all of this to stop. And with the next words you utter, he feels as if it does. He feels as if his whole world stops.

“We’re done, JJ.”

 ~*~*~*~*~*

Since the break-up, JJ feels as though he’s sailing through a storm-ridden sea without a compass or guide. No direction and no sign of freedom from the turmoil. He’s drowned his sorrows and anxieties with drugs. Booze for the tears and cannabis for the regret. Numbs the anger with nicotine and waits until he’s exhausted to drop to sleep for fear of dreaming about you, in any capacity. He can’t decide which dreams are worse: the ones where you’re mad at him and crying, or the one’s where you’re happy and laughing over a scrabble board. All of them feel like nightmares.

The group must’ve sensed a difference in him, but if they have, they don’t bother to mention it. JJ’s grateful. It’s not like he could talk about it anyway.

“Wake up, JayJ,” Kiara says. She kicks at his feet.

“Quit it,” JJ mumbles into the pillow.

“Come on. We’re going on a walk.”

“Have fun,” JJ sighs. He’s been awake for about five minutes and can already feel the craving for another beer starting up.

Kiara keeps kicking at his feet. It’s starting to tick him off.

“I mean me and you are going for a walk. Now get up,” Kie tells him.

“I don’t feel like walking, Kie,” JJ says impatiently.

“I don’t care, bro. I’m sick of seeing you wallow in the chateau. We could find the island room at any moment and we don’t need you like this when we do.”

He knows that’s not the truth. JJ knows his friends care about him (as hard as it is to fathom sometimes) and he knows that the way he’s acting must be of concern. Especially because they don’t know why. Who would suspect a break-up for a guy who’s been nothing but single his whole life?

But JJ doesn’t feel like pity. He doesn’t feel like talking or spending time with anyone else but a bottle of corona. His plans to fall back to sleep and ignore Kiara’s demands are thrown out the window, however, when she dunks a pint of cold water on his back. JJ cusses out, shooting up, feeling his head pound at the motion. Still a little drunk.

“What the hell Kiara!”

“Rise and shine,” she smiles in faux sweetness. She ditches the glass on countertop and heads out the front door, onto the porch. “You got five minutes, princess.”

“Fuck off,” JJ mutters under breath.

Clearly, Kie’s not going to lay off anytime soon. If he goes on this walk, even for five minutes, maybe JJ can be left in peace for the rest of the day to drink himself stupid. Besides, it would work as a nice distraction from falling into thoughts of you and checking his phone every five minutes in case you decided to text him. With that motivation, JJ tugs on a muscle tee and ties up the laces on his boots. Kiara holds out a joint in an act of peace when he steps onto the porch. It works in moving her back into his good books.

“Come on, man. Let’s go into the marsh,” Kiara says, standing up.

JJ walks by her side, smoking the blunt, passing it to her now and then. The sounds of the world somewhat mellow out when they pass the threshold into the marsh. Trees and shrubberies and bushes surrounding them. Their feet follow a path made purely from being trodden so many times. JJ kicks at a nettle plant as they pass. He’s taken to trying to distinguish the different birds around them purely from their calls.

“I know, by the way,” Kiara says, breaking their silence.

JJ looks at her. “Huh?”

“I know. About Barry’s sister,” she tells him.

JJ’s stomach drops. He’s surprised he doesn’t lose his footing. Clearing his throat, looking ahead again, he shrugs.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was kinda obvious, JayJ.”

JJ clenches his eyes shut. “Kie…I really don’t wanna talk about this, alright?”

“I had a feeling about it at the bonfire,” she says, ignoring him. “I mean, I knew you were into someone that day at the chateau, but I didn’t know who. And then you were jumping to her defence for like no reason. The real clue was when you went into the woods literally right after she did. Like, seriously, bro? Subtle much?”

“Did you not hear what I said, Kiara? I don’t wanna talk about it,” JJ hisses.

Kiara continues, nonetheless. “Then at the docks, you were defending her again. That wasn’t the giveaway though. The giveaway was the fact that she was wearing your tee-shirt, bro. That just sealed the deal for me.”

“Congratulations, alright? You solved the mystery. Now can you please just let it go,” JJ sharply tells her. He takes another hit of the bud, hoping it’ll help to calm him down.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell us,” Kie says.

“Kiara-”

“I mean, I get wanting to keep it on the downlow maybe, but we’d have been cool with it,” Kiara tells him.

“I don’t wanna—”

“I haven’t told the others yet but—”

“Just shut up, alright!? Shut up!” JJ snaps.

His patience snaps like the fraying rope of a river swing. Plummets him into anger and drenches him in regret.

“What the hell, JJ? I’m saying that we support you, alright?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Kiara,” JJ shouts. He tugs off his cap and wrings it angrily in his hands. “None of it fucking matters!”

It seems as if he’s yelling at her, but he isn’t. Not actually. He’s mad at himself. Furious at managing to muck up one of the only good things in his life. JJ meets Kie’s gaze dead on.

“She left me, alright? It’s over. So, it doesn’t matter anymore, okay? So just drop it.”

Saying it out loud feels as though JJ’s shoving his nails into an open gash.

He collapses onto a fallen tree trunk, dropping his cap and hanging his head into his hands. When he rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration, it isn’t sweet like when you do it, and it only makes him miss you more.

JJ hears Kiara sigh. She sits down next to him and he watches her in his peripheral a moment.

“Is this why you’ve been acting the way you have?”

JJ doesn’t reply. He only sighs deeply into the clamminess of his palms. It seems to work as an answer in and of itself.

“Shit, JJ.”

“Don’t pity me.”

“Too late.”

He sighs again. Slowly, he lifts his head out his hands, keeping his fingers pressed near his lips as if in silent prayer.

“Can I ask how?”

“How what?”

“How it all ended,” she clarifies.

JJ glances to her. Kiara’s eyes are soft with sympathy. JJ shrugs as if he doesn’t know. As if it’s a mystery why you up and left, when the clues are as a clear as a confession note.

“I fucked it up. That’s how.”

“I feel like that’s not the whole truth, JayJ.”

“But it’s the point, okay? I fucked it up, like I fuck up everything, like I knew I would. It was a fucking pipe dream anyway.”

“I don’t understand,” Kiara mumbles.

Leaning down, she retrieves his cap and dusts it off. It stings just to look at it. It’s the same one you stole from him during one of your usual scrabble-offs. You always beat him. Always.

 “Can you just tell me what happened?”

“Why?” JJ sighs tiredly.

“So I can understand why you didn’t trust us enough to tell us,” she replies. JJ hates the momentary hurt that swipes across her features. “Pogues don’t keep secrets from Pogues.”

JJ shakes his head smally, like a boy in confessional. “It wasn’t because of you guys.”

“Then…Why?”

“It’s because of me,” JJ admits.

“JJ. Self-blame isn’t going to work—”

“No, Kiara. I actually mean it this time, alright? It’s because of me,” JJ doubles-down, holding her gaze. It’s suddenly exhausting to try and keep a lid on his emotions. “She didn’t want to keep it a secret, okay? She wanted to meet you guys, and for me to meet her friends and stuff. And it wasn’t that I didn’t want to. She’d get along great with you lot. I mean, she’s as damn smart as Pope and funny as hell. And she’s kind. Like actually kind, but not in a boring way, or in a push-over way. Just in a pure perfect kinda way. When she looks at me…God, this is going to sound corny as hell, but she makes me feel like I’m a good person. Like I can’t do anything wrong in her eyes. Least, she used to.”

A consoling hand is placed on his shoulder. It spurs him on.

“In all honesty, it started out as a secret because I didn’t think it’d last longer than a month. But then I started to fall for her, so hard and so fucking fast, and it scared the shit out of me. And I knew that if I wanted to keep her around, then she couldn’t ever find out about what I did to Barry.”

Kiara frowns as he says that, as if trying to follow. “Wait. Do you mean with the money and stuff?”

JJ nods, pursing his lips.

She shakes her head with a deep sigh. “JJ. That shit was so long ago—”

“It doesn’t matter. I still did it, alright? Barry’s all she’s got in terms of family and I stole from him. And not just a little bit. A lot. So if she ever found out; she’d leave me.”

Kie holds his gaze. “‘She’d leave you’? How do you know that?”

“I just do, okay?”

“No, JayJ, you don’t,” Kie tells him. “I mean, if she’s as good a person as you say she is, then how do you know she wouldn’t look past it? I’m sure she’s not blind to the fact that you do stupid shit, bro. Or that her brother isn’t the nicest of guys. He had a gun to our head, man.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Cause I lost her anyway,” JJ returns, perhaps a little sharply.

Out of guilt, JJ looks away from his friend’s eyes. He rubs at his face, perhaps in an attempt to distract himself from this pitiful conversation. JJ could do with a shower and a shave. Didn’t seem all that important in the last week, though.

“Can I say something?”

“I have a feeling that you’re going to anyway,” JJ mutters.

“Is there a chance that you were using the thing with Barry as an excuse?”

JJ face darkens into a deep frown. Looking to her, he asks, “what?”

“I mean…I don’t think it’s exactly a secret that you aren’t good at accepting love.”

“Gee, thanks, Kie.”

“Just, hear me out,” she says, stopping him before he can go off in a huff. JJ does so reluctantly. “Telling her about Barry means that she sees you for your good and your bad, and keeping it from her, and from us, and from everyone really, means that it doesn’t actually become real.”

“I’m not following,” JJ mumbles.

“Lemme put it another way then,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Maybe – on some level – by keeping it a secret, you felt like you couldn’t really lose her if things turned out bad.”

JJ frowns again, though this time, it isn’t out of offence. Instead, it teeters on the line of confusion and understanding.

Kiara doesn’t expand more. Just lets him sit with it for a moment. JJ looks down at his feet, skimming at the overgrown plants.

Was that it? Was the thing with Barry – JJ’s big motivation to keep your relationship a secret – mostly an excuse?

He didn’t want Barry to find out because he’d definitely beat JJ’s ass again and hound on him for getting with his sister, and you probably would be crushed to know he stole from your brother, but…But then what? Then things would surely move on. He’d either have you or lose you, but it’d be reality. By keeping things secret, it was as if JJ was only playing half his hand. That maybe the stakes would be somehow smaller if he didn’t have you completely, because then he wouldn’t lose you completely either. Ironic, how wrong that was. How it didn’t matter in the end.

JJ had taken beatings before. He could stomach another from Barry if it meant he got to have you in his life. He knows that now. In fact, having you leave him hurt worse than any right-hook Barry could send his way. Being down in the dirt wouldn’t matter all that much if you were there to pull him out and dust him off. It wouldn’t matter if you were just there.

Looking to Kiara, JJ swallows his pride. “I don’t know how to fix it, Kiara. I…I don’t know if I can.”

She sighs and nods in thought.

“Tell me what the last straw was.”

“The last straw?”

“The thing that made it all end, for good,” Kie says.

JJ purses his lips. The shame comes slow and simmering when he replies. “I stood her up. On her birthday. Her eighteenth birthday.”

“Ouch,” Kie eventually whispers.

JJ nods, looking down at the ground. “Yep. ‘Ouch’.”

“Okay, you know what you gotta do then,” she sighs, hopping to her feet. JJ looks up and takes her in.

“What?”

“You gotta go all out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You gotta swallow your pride and pull a romantic gesture.”

JJ doesn’t have it in him to burst into fits of laughter. Instead, he stares at Kiara as if she’s sprouted an extra head. All he can do is repeat himself.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re righting your wrongs and throwing her a birthday gesture, and you’re going to do some serious sucking up and swoon the shit out of this girl,” Kiara instructs. She holds out his cap for him.

JJ eyes it as if it might be laced with chloroform. “She’s really not the romantic gesture type, man.”

“Every girl is, deep down. Sides. Not like you have anything much to lose now.”

His eyes dart back up to Kie’s. She’s not wrong.

With that numbing thought, JJ grabs his cap back, shoves it on, and jumps onto his feet. “Fine. Fuck it.”

“Atta boy.”

~*~*~*~*~*

It was nice to realise that JJ’s week in purgatory hadn’t impaired his planning capabilities. Once he’d finished confessing to the rest of the Pogues about his nearly year-long secret relationship with Barry’s sister (and taken the brunt of the onslaught of questions, teasing and berating), they were more than willing to help out their friend.

JJ took advantage of your trustworthiness and willingness to help others to lure you out, with Kiara as bait. She’d go to your trailer, sneak to your bedroom window (which JJ identified in his incredible, Louvre-worthy drawing) and lure you out to ‘help with her faulty car motor’. JJ knew Barry was out collecting until later that day, so it was fairly safe to send Kie out there. She was more than willing to do it anyway. In the meantime, John B and Pope helped JJ set up some romantic gesture per Kie’s instruction. He felt like an idiot as he did it. This wasn’t your style or his, but he was throwing the hail Mary now. In for a penny, in for a pound.

I.E. Fuck it.

But now that everything is set up, JJ feels like he might throw-up with nerves. He’s already ran his vape dry and it feels like the nicotine has hardly touched him. Sat on the jetty, illuminated by a myriad of candles which are definitely a huge fire risk, JJ meddles with his lighter anxiously as he waits for Kie to come back with you on the boat. The water laps at the rotting podiums, holding him up. He sighs and listens to the sounds of nightlife, as the clock nears midnight. Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees your tear-soaked face, the moment before you broke up with him. JJ doesn’t close his eyes.

The symphony of nature is broken apart by the hum of a motorboat. He glances to the sound to see Kiara stood behind the wheel. You’re sat in the back, legs crossed; face the look of scepticism. It morphs into daylight-clear betrayal when you spot JJ.

“Wait. What the…”

JJ shakily exhales and gets to his feet. He’s not used to feeling this nervous around you. Kiara slows the motor to a stop at the jetty, but you don’t move.

“You said you needed help with your motor,” you say to Kiara.

She smiles apologetically. “Well, JJ said you were pretty trusting.”

“I don’t want to see you,” you say to JJ now.

JJ nods. Instinctively he shoves his hands in his pockets, letting his nails anxiously dig into the flesh of his palms. “I know. I know you don’t but I can’t let you have a shit birthday, no matter how things go between us.”

It seems with that; you take in the sights of the jetty. The candles placed around the peeling-paint wood. Two pillows to save you both from splinters. Between them sits a scrabble board, already set up. You gnaw at your lower lip. There’s the smallest movement of your head as you try to shake it.

“Just…Just give me this, and then you don’t have to talk to me ever again, if you don’t wanna. Okay?” JJ sighs.

He extends out a hand for you. His heart thrums with anxiety as he waits for your reaction.

Your eyes move up to his. You regard him a moment. Then, with a sigh, you’re getting to your feet and taking his hand, letting him help you onto the jetty. Kiara flashes JJ a small, reassuring smile, and then she’s making off into the night.

“This might be the corniest thing you’ve ever done, by the way,” you mumble.

You remove your hand from his and stand defensively on the edge of the wood, making him a little nervous that you might fall in.

“I know,” JJ chuckles uneasily, glancing down to the set-up. “Don’t bust my balls yet though, alright?”

He sits down on one of the pillows. Nods for you to take the other spot. After a moment’s consideration, you do. You bring your cargo-covered legs near to your chest as if closing yourself off from him. He watches as your eyes dart down to the scrabble board, void of letters, and then down to your selection.

“What is this?”

“One last game.”

“JJ…”

“Just one,” he almost pleads. The two of you look at one another. Sighing, he shrugs. “I can’t let our last conversation end the way it did.”

“I don’t feel like scrabble,” you say.

JJ nods and looks down to pick at his fingernails. This was such a dumb idea. Why the hell did he let Kiara talk him into this? John B and Pope are probably watching from the chateau, placing bets on how long it takes for you to leave him there, sniggering at his uselessness.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t wanna do this, JJ,” you tell him, glancing out to the water.

“Just please let me get this out,” JJ says. “Then I can get John B to drive you home, if you want. Or Kiara can come back with the boat. Whatever you prefer.”

You swallow. “John B knows I’m here?”

“Yeah,” JJ nods. “They all do. They all know.”

“Know what, exactly?”

“That I’m a fucking idiot, for starters,” JJ tells you. “And that I was dumb enough to lose you.”

“The pity parade isn’t going to win you points, JJ,” you say.

JJ shakes his head. “I’m not trying to win anything.”

“So this isn’t a ploy to try and win me back? Shame. You had me going for a second.”

“I’m a fucking idiot.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I am,” he affirms. It makes you chuckle quietly. He can’t tell if the humour is genuine. “This whole time, I was telling myself we had to stay as a secret because of something I did, but I was bullshitting myself. I just…Well, I think a part of me just wanted you to myself, and none of the pressures of everyone else, but I think another part of me didn’t want to risk losing you.”

You frown.

“Yeah, dumb, I know, cause I did anyway,” JJ mutters. Makes your smile halfway return. “But then you thought that it was because of you, for some reason. That it’s because of who you are. That’s not it. That was never it. It’s just…It’s hard to explain…”

“You don’t have to explain it, then,” you say. JJ closes his eyes at the sound of your voice, sweet with understanding. “But you do have to explain this thing you did. The thing that made you want to keep us a secret.”

JJ shakes his head and purses his lips. “You’re gonna hate me.”

“I don’t hate anyone,” you tell him.

Shakily exhaling, JJ looks out to the water. He steadies himself like a first-time surfer, then looks to you. You’re watching him expectantly, waiting.

“I have a past with doing stupid things. I mean, I think you know that but…I can do really stupid things sometimes. I don’t think ten steps ahead and I make bad choices and I can’t be talked down from them. And it makes messes. I’m not proud of it, I need you to know that.”

You nod.

JJ sighs. “Do you remember when I told you about the gold?”

You nod once more.

“Well, we tried to pawn some of it off one time. We got sent out into the middle of nowhere on a fake-out and this guy stops us and robs us all at gunpoint.”

“Wait, what?”  

JJ swallows and nods. “Somehow we got the upper hand and it turns out to be Barry. I recognised him as my dad’s dealer, you know?”

You’re shaking your head. “He wouldn’t…Why would he do that? He wouldn’t do that…”

“I got angry, like a fucking idiot,” JJ sighs, dragging his fingers through his hair as he hangs his head a moment. “So I take the wheel and take us to his house and…And I rob him. Twenty-thousand.”

There’s no reply for a while. Merely the lapping of the water and the faint crackle of the candle’s wicker as it burns.

“You robbed him?”

“Eye for an eye, you know?” JJ mumbles, no conviction to his words.

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me this?” you can’t help but ask.

JJ swallows thickly. He shrugs as he raises his head to look at you.

“I don’t know. I guess because I wasn’t sure if you’d tell Barry, or if you’d leave me, maybe? Or maybe I just…You always do the right thing and you have this way of looking at me like I’m this good person. I didn’t want that to go away.”

Your expression is stoic. He can’t quite read the emotions on your face, as each seems to come and go so quickly as you process JJ’s big confession. It’s like trying to understand a story from a torn-up foreign book.

In the silence of your deliberation, JJ feels himself shrug again. He meddles his fingers together, gazing down at them; his forearms resting atop of his knees, legs brought up to his chest similar to your own.

“I’m not a good person. I do bad things and I make bad choices and I suck at doing the right thing.”

“Stop it, JJ.”

He looks up to you with that. You’re shaking your head.

“There are no good people and bad people, so don’t start falling into some self-destructive spiel thinking it’s going to make me feel better about any of this,” you tell him.

JJ nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I just…Why would Barry…I don’t understand,” you sigh. You clasp your hands over your face.

In that moment, JJ’s nearly certain he’s lost you for good. He half wants to gloat to Kiara that he was right; that you saw the real him and didn’t like it. But it isn’t a nice feeling. JJ hangs his head and prepares himself for the final blow. He’s already planning his request for John B to drive you back home. Debating if he’ll try and kiss you goodbye. Wonders which alcohol to wash it all down with.

“I’m sorry he did that to you, JJ.”

JJ’s head nearly flies off his head with how quickly it darts back up.

“What?”

“He told me he doesn’t do shit like that anymore,” you’re saying. JJ’s taken to watching your mouth, like he’s having trouble following your words in the silence of the night. “I told him I didn’t want him doing shit like that anymore. He lied to me.”

“I don’t understand,” JJ manages out.

You shake your head. “I’m not mad at you, for robbing him. People make bad choices, JJ, but that doesn’t make them bad people. The same way he went after you guys first. The same way I jumped to conclusions about why you wanted to keep this a secret.”

“How is that a bad choice?” JJ frowns. “I didn’t give you any better explanation for why. I was just so fucking scared that I’d lose you if you knew the truth.”

“Because I knew you weren’t the type of dumbass who gives a shit about family and reputation and appearances, but I still let my own fucking insecurities lead me to think that it was because of me. That you didn’t want to be seen with me because of my family, and all of their shitty choices. Including the gunpoint bullshit thing he pulled on you and your friends.”

JJ shakes his head. He instinctively reaches a hand out to you, grabbing at your trainer clad shoes and squeezing.

“I know more than anyone that people are more than their dumbass families.”

You chuckle solemnly at that. Moving your hand, you lay it atop of his and you don’t pull away when he flips his, palm up, and intertwines your fingers. It feels like you’re mending all his gashes from that single touch alone.

“I know you have every reason to say no to me here,” JJ begins. “I mean, I’ve been nothing short of a dumbass and…Well, I’m kinda beating around the bush here, but…”

You quirk a brow. There’s that smile he loves. Teasing and playful and perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.

“But here’s a crazy idea. How about we date, like normal people, and I don’t forget your birthdays, and I’m not late for our dates, and I sleep over at night. And you meet my friends, and I meet yours, and maybe I steer a bit clear of your brother still. Just to be safe.”

“Just so you can keep your balls.”

“Ideally, yeah.”

You both laugh at that. Both somewhat tearful.

You squeeze his hand.

“Well, if your friends know about us, we can just crash at the chateau more, I guess,” you say, voice reserved still, as if he might laugh in your face.

JJ doesn’t though. He smiles wider. Nods. “Now there’s an idea.”

“I think I’d be cool with that, then,” you half-whisper.

JJ smiles at you like you’re the sun and he’s the moon, and he’d spend forever in your orbit if you’d only let him. You might just.

Leaning forward, he kisses you, sweet and tender. You don’t let him pull back; moving to slide a hand around his neck, another slipping along his jaw like a priest’s gentle touch during baptism. This close, he can smell your perfume: rose and bergamot. And this; this is what living is for.

“I love you,” JJ confesses, the moment your lips break apart.

You laugh smally; your cherubic voice easing the cacophony of thoughts that had been plaguing JJ for the past month or so.

“I love you too, you idiot,” you return. Swiping your thumb over his cheek, smiling wider as he leans shamelessly into your touch, you add, “just stop doing stupid things, please.”

“Darling, there’s no way I can promise you that,” JJ returns.

He cuts off your wonderful laughter with a grinning kiss. He doesn’t care if his friends can see. If they’re making fun of him for how much he’s at your mercy. Afterall, JJ is in love with you. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything.

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