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writingonleaves · 1 year ago

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it's so hard to watch everything i want (everything i was spinning down the drain) - trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras x original female character

warnings: swearing, angst-ish, mentions of cheating (not between the two main characters), self-loathing, fluff

based on: "bleach" by 5 seconds of summer + "the archer" by taylor swift. title from "bleach"

word count: 15.6k

author's note: tried my hand at writing trevor's pov and it was Hard. this one means a lot to me personally so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! takes place at least five ish years from now so future fic alert!! trevor is finally employed again and that motivated me to finish this LOL

*****

Trevor Zegras is good at a lot of things. Remembering names and faces is at the top of the list.

It kinda makes sense. He’s been meeting and shaking hands with people ever since he was a teenager, most of them wanting something from him in one way shape or form. It’s not completely a bad thing. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without knowing who he was talking to.

So that’s why it’s such a surprise that it took him a whole damn hour to figure out why the wedding planner for Jack and Amelie’s wedding looked so familiar. Isabelle, she introduced herself as, and he keeps racking his mind to see if he knows an Isabelle, but he comes up empty.

As a groomsman, Trevor was expected to come to the venue earlier. He didn’t have to come a whole week earlier, but he had nothing else going on and the wedding’s in Michigan, so it wasn’t completely inconvenient for him. He just crashed at Jack and Quinn’s, to which the latter rolled his eyes at. But the soon-to-be-married couple were thrilled that he was coming early so they could put him to work, and he was more than happy to help out.

It’s halfway through assembling floral centerpieces when he shoots his head up to the wedding planner across from him. “Belle Holloway?”

Belle looks up with a small smile. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”

“Holy shit. I knew you looked familiar. It’s been so long.”

“Z, are you bothering Isabelle?” Jack calls out from another table. “Please don’t scare her away. She’s been our lifesaver the last year.”

Belle chuckles. “You don’t need to worry, Jack.”

“Yeah, Hughesy. Belle and I go way back.”

Amelie is passing by and hears that comment, raising her eyebrows. “You two know each other?”

“We grew up in the same town,” Belle explains, tying a ribbon around a bunch of flowers. “My brother was in Trevor’s grade in school. They played hockey together for a bit before Trevor got too good and left.”

“Belle was probably the smartest girl in school,” Trevor adds with a hint of pride in his tone. “Can’t say the same about her brother. Where did you end up going to college?”

“University of Michigan.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack smirk. Weirdo. He literally didn’t even go to Michigan.

Trevor whistles. “Still smart. Where is Connor these days? He went to UConn, right?”

“Yup. He’s with his wife in Chicago now. Doing something with finance.”

Trevor makes a mental note to reach out to his old friend the next time he’s in Chicago. “And little Lily?”

Belle chuckles. “Not so little anymore. She graduated from Parsons last year and works at Michael Kors as a designer.”

Trevor smiles knowingly. “Guess her styling Connor all those years paid off, eh?”

“Guess so.”

(Amelie and Jack are at another table working on centerpieces, overhearing this conversation. They give each other a knowing look as they keep eavesdropping. This is why Belle didn’t seem surprised during their initial consultation when they had to explain Jack’s hockey schedule and why he wouldn’t be able to adhere to the traditional timeline if he wanted to be at all the appointments. Little did they know, she already knew someone in the NHL)

She then asks about his family, because while Trevor was always her brother’s friend, their parents got to know each other pretty well to the point where they would go over to each other’s for dinner enough for her to remember. Trevor talks about how Griffin is off doing God knows what in Florida but having a good time at his sports marketing job and how Ava, who’s the same age as Lily, graduated from Elon and is now in the Philly area as a nurse.

They’re now moving pots of flowers around as they venture into their lives post-grad. “So have you been in Michigan this whole time?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah, though I had a brief stint in Santa Ana. This wedding is my last one here, actually, so a fun one to end on.”

Trevor follows her eye-line at the soon-to-be-newlyweds, who are now decorating the photo station but more fucking around then decorating. Amelie’s slapping Jack’s shoulder as he laughs loudly. Trevor smiles at the sight. “They’re great, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Belle admits. “I’ve worked with a lot of couples, but they’re one of my favorites. From the fact that they’re organized and flexible and so kind and understanding to the fact that they seem to be super in love with each other.”

“You said this is your last wedding here?” Belle nods. “Where you off to next?”

Trevor notices her stiffening a bit, and he immediately wants to take the question back. But the discomfort leaves as fast as it came. “Not sure. Gonna do some last minute packing up and then go home to New York next week to reset and figure it out from there. Connor offered his guest room in Chicago so I might take that. I have some friends that are dispersed around the country as well.” She shakes her head and switches topics and he makes a mental note of her vague answer. “Enough about me. How about you, Mr. NHL? Not gonna lie, when I saw Jack’s list of groomsmen, I had to brace myself mentally when I saw your name.”

“Brace yourself? What does that mean?”

Belle chuckles and his smile widens at the sound. “It’s been awhile, but not everything is different. I’m sure you’re still the life of the party everywhere you go, which means you’re at high risk of intruding on my meticulous plans on the day. Mind grabbing those shears for me next to you?”

He passes her the shears, standing up straight. “Jack’s conned you. He is way worse than I am.”

“Jack is also the groom so he knows that he has to listen to what I say if he wants things to go well,” Belle says. “How have you been, though? Has Anaheim been treating you well?”

“It has. The team’s great. The weather’s great. The beach is right there. Very different from Bedford.”

“Congrats on a great season. The playoff run was fun to watch.”

His eyebrow shoots up. “You watched?”

She shrugs a bit sheepishly. “If a game is on, I’ll usually watch. It’s like white noise to me now, after going to Connor’s, and I guess your games growing up. I went to a couple of Ducks games during the two years I lived in Cali.”

“And you didn’t reach out?”

She wipes her hands on her jeans. “I…you were always more Connor’s friend than mine. Didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It wouldn’t have been,” he assures. “Next time, let me know and I’ll get you tickets. You still have my number?”

“I do.”

“Perfect,” Amelie then comes up and seems like she has a question. “I’ll let you ladies be. Where’s your fiance?” He asks the bride-to-be.

“Quinn just arrived, so probably making sure the bar is all good, since you guys have your weird ass drink preferences,” Amelie says. “We should be almost done here though. Just have a couple last questions for Belle and then we’ll head back.”

Trevor snorts. “Typical. I’ll go find them.” He turns back to Belle with a grin. “Good to see you, Belle. Don’t be a stranger.”

Belle smiles. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Trevor promises, before walking away.

When things finally settle down a couple of hours later and he settles into one of the guest rooms for the night, he reflects back to his own childhood and memories of Isabelle Holloway, or Belle, as everyone used to call her. Brunette and green-eyed, Belle was decently quiet compared to him and Connor’s wild teenage boy energy, but she was talkative with her own friends and Trevor’s parents adored her. She loved Taylor Swift, and if Trevor looked into it deeper, her blasting her music around all the time probably got Trevor to like it purely through osmosis. She was always clean, happy to do the dishes and Trevor often caught her organizing the living room and basement without being asked. She was incredibly smart, always had her homework done before hanging out with her friends and seemed to always ace her classes with minimal difficulty. Even when Connor gave her shit just because he was the oldest sibling, she rarely dished it back. That kindness extended to all of Connor’s friends as well, including Trevor, even when they were loud and playing video games when she came home from school. Every memory he has of Connor growing up, Belle’s right around the corner.

Belle Holloway had always been too good to them. It’s a no-brainer that her profession is based on giving something to others.

He still follows Connor on Instagram, so he goes to his old friend’s page to find his sister’s page. She’s private, but he doesn’t hesitate on requesting her account. He goes to take a shower and brush his teeth and when he comes back to his phone, he’s delighted to see that she’s accepted his follow request.

Thus begins his stalking.

There’s not many posts to stalk — she only has 47 — but it does span the amount of years he lost touch with the Holloways. There are posts from her later high school years when Trevor had already left Bedford, and he smiles to himself when he sees the post from her high school graduation, with Connor, Belle and Lily all cheesing in one photo. There are various posts from her college years — she must’ve spent a semester or a summer abroad in Barcelona — mixed with some various travels from Yellowstone to Sweden to Miami. Then it gets less frequent after she graduates college, posts of the Michigan landscape, posts with friends on a night out, at a friend’s wedding, the rare photos of just herself. She notices there’s a guy in some of those posts, but no one’s tagged and the caption doesn’t reveal anything, so he figures it must be a friend or ex-boyfriend of some sort.

One thing that hasn’t changed much, he thinks, is how beautiful she is. As he scrolls on her Instagram and thinks back to seeing her earlier today, he kinda can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.

The day of the wedding comes by and it’s an early start for the bridal party. Trevor rolls into the Planterra Conservatory at 8:47 a.m. with coffees for himself, Quinn, Luke and Jack while Cole had gotten coffees for himself, Nico and Alex earlier. The suits are already hung up by the window of the spacious room and beers have already been opened.

“Starting off early, eh?” He sets down the coffees on the table.

“It’s a big day,” Luke calls out from steaming everyone’s suits.

“That it is,” he stops by the chair Jack is sitting in and gives him a hug. “Congrats, man. You nervous?”

“Nah,” Jack smiles. “More excited than anything.”

Quinn grabs his coffee and sits down. “I stopped by the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. Amelie said the same thing.”

Jack lights up at the mere mention of her. “I’m just anxious to see her, to be honest.”

Belle walks in then, clad in a light green jumpsuit and a tan blazer, with a bright smile on his face. “Oh good, Trevor made it. Everyone all good in here? Do you guys need anything?”

Jack grins. “We’re all good here, Isabelle. Thank you. I’ll holler if we need anything. Promise.”

She shoots the groom a semi-skeptical look before nodding. “Okay. I’ll check back in, in 30 minutes.”

“Do you need any help at all?” Nico asks.

She shakes her head with a thankful smile. “You all are too kind. I’m good. Michelle and I are manning the floor. She’s kinda doing my job better than I am, when she has her own bridesmaid duties to worry about.”

“Impossible.” Quinn remarks. “You’re fabulous at your job.”

Belle rolls her eyes fondly, and Trevor’s reminded that even though she’s the one running the show, she’s younger than a majority of the bridal party. “Flatterer.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and clicks her tongue. “Alright. I’m out.” She looks at Trevor with a pointed look. “Zegras. You better come find me if anything goes wrong.”

“Why are you entrusting that responsibility onto me?”

“Because I have so many stories about you that I could tell everyone if you don’t listen to me.”

Trevor gasps in mock offense. “Belle, oh Belle! Resorting to blackmail?”

The whole room laughs as she grins. She stops in front of him, a more serious look on her face. “Call me if anything goes wrong?”

“I gotcha.” He assures her with a firm nod and she shoots everyone one last grin before walking out. If his eyes linger on her, no one has to know.

(Everyone in the room knows. He doesn’t notice them all giving each other knowing smirks)

Jack speaks up first. “Z, if you end up hooking up with my wedding planner, give her a good time at least. She deserves it.”

“Jesus Christ, Jacky.” Trevor groans as everyone cackles. Thankfully for him, they drop it after that.

The next time he and Belle get to interact is after the ceremony — to which he couldn’t stop smiling watching one of his his long-time best friends marry the girl of his dreams, proudly watching at the front as they exchanged vows to love each other forever — when it’s time for pictures and Belle and the photographer are working together to direct everybody where they need to go. Belle stops directly in front of Trevor and focuses on fixing his boutonniere. Her tongue pokes out as she focuses on making it straight after several attempts. Even amongst a crazy day, he feels a sense of calm surrounding him.

She huffs. “Why won’t your boutonniere stay still?”

He smiles down at her cheekily. “On my worst behavior.”

She snorts, before softening. “Thank you for earlier.” He knows she’s referencing when there was a minor mix up with the rings right before the ceremony was about to start and Trevor got it under control within 10 minutes.

“Of course.”

She puts a piece of stray hair back on his head away from his forehead and he feels his heart flutter at her light touch. She smirks a bit. “On your best behavior today, actually. Like you promised.”

“Don’t count on it once the open bar hits.”

She laughs before moving on to fix Luke’s collar and Trevor gets a second to finally take a normal breath.

The next time he spots Belle is well into the reception, when the dance floor is full and the drinks are flowing and everyone is enjoying themselves. She’s nibbling on a slice of cake in the corner, eyes sweeping through the crowd with a small smile on her face

Trevor, who ditched his blazer after ‘Mr. Brightside’ brought the place down at least 7 songs ago, strolls over, hands in his slacks. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Belle of the Ball.”

Her nose wrinkles. “No one’s called me that since I was 6.”

“A good wedding to end off on?”

“I think so,” she smiles, staring at Amelie giggling as she pours a bottle of champagne into Jack’s mouth. “You having a good time?”

“The best. And I’ve been to a lot of weddings. You did beautifully.”

Belle waves him off. “All in a day’s work.”

“Do you still have fun at weddings? Since you have to work them?”

“Yes and no,” she admits. ‘Yes, because the end result is always worth it and seeing the happy couple live their day is always worth it. No because now when I go to weddings of my friends and family, it’s hard to turn my work brain off.”

“Are you allowed to dance at your clients’ weddings?”

“I usually wouldn’t,” she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Make an exception for an old friend? To celebrate your last wedding in Michigan?”

She looks away for a second. “I don’t want to make Jack or Amelie feel weird.”

“Those two couldn’t care less. I’m sure they’d actually encourage it.”

He shoots what he hopes is an encouraging smile as he offers a hand. She looks at him for a couple of seconds before letting him help her up.

It’s perfect timing as ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift comes on and the once rowdy floor is calmer, with couples dancing with each other or families dancing with their kids. It’s a dance floor filled with love.

He guides Belle to put her arms around his neck as he carefully places his on her waist.

“I told Connor about seeing you again.” She starts

“Oh yeah? What did he say?”

“He told me to tell you to hit him up the next time you’re in Chicago.”

“Was already planning on it.”

“He also said and I quote ‘if the next thing I hear is that Zegras is dating my sister, I will kill him.’” Trevor tips his head back in laughter as Belle chuckles. “He’s lucky I never dated any of his friends. He had some cute ones.”

“Was I one of them?”

“Nice try. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Trevor.” She says dryly. “Besides, I was kinda kidding. It’s not like you or any of his friends would’ve gone for me anyways.”

Now he’s confused. “What?” He thinks she’s joking, but from her face he realizes she’s not. “You do know that like, half of the hockey team had a crush on you, right?” She tips her head back in laughter as he squeezes her waist. “I’m not kidding. It annoyed Connor to no end.”

She snorts. “There’s no way.”

“Up to you whether to believe it or not. Just know that I never lie, Belle.”

She hums, and the way she’s looking at him makes his hands start sweating. He hopes she can’t feel it through her jumpsuit. “What you’ve done with your hockey career and everything, it’s really cool. I’m happy for you, Trevor. You deserve it.”

And he’s heard so many compliments about his career throughout his whole career, but it’s different coming from someone from his hometown. Someone who knew him before he left and knew what he was like before the NHL — before his days at the NTDP, even. Someone who has nothing to gain from complimenting him.

“Thank you, Belle. That-that means a lot coming from you.”

She just smiles back before they fall into a comfortable silence and keep dancing. He twirls her and does an exaggerated dip that has her giggling. They keep dancing and dancing, even as the songs change tempo.

(Amelie, who’s resting her feet right by the dance floor, nudges Jack and gives him a look. She picks up a disposable camera and points it at them, before taking her phone and also taking a picture. She has an inkling that Trevor and Isabelle may want these someday)

“What are you up to before the season starts?”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually. I just need to be back in Anaheim for pre-season in three weeks.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Quinn and Jack have been letting me crash at their place. Don’t have an exact date of when I’m leaving yet.”

Belle snorts, though it’s paired with a smile that seems fond. “Still the same, huh, Trev?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your spontaneity used to stress my parents out, even back then. The reason they still liked you is because you could charm your way out of it.”

“I stressed Kurt and Susan out?” He says, actually worried.

“Oh, hush. It’s not that deep. My dad loves watching you play. There’s been many a family call where I hear a Ducks game on in the background. Unless it’s against the Rangers, of course, in which you don’t matter.”

“To be expected,” Trevor says, heart lifting at the fact that two people who used to drive him around so much still support him, even from afar. “Do they still live in Bedford?”

“Yup. Though with the amount of time my dad spends in White Plains golfing, you’d think they lived there now. He’s loving retirement, clearly.”

Trevor laughs. “I’ll have to hit up Kurt when I’m back for a couple rounds. Does Susan still make the best apple pie?”

“Yup. And everyone still raves about it when she brings it to parties.”

“You think she’d make me a slice?”

“She’d bake you three pies and send you home with them to Julie and Gary.”

He grins. “Never knew little Belle was this sassy.”

“Because you wasted all your time with Connor.” She shoots back with a laugh.

(Honestly, he thinks as he twirls her again, maybe she’s right. Who knows what could’ve been if he had seen Belle as more than just Connor’s quieter, talented sister.)

“You said you’re leaving next week?”

“Yeah. Just need to sort out some boxes to move to storage before driving back to New York.”

“You’re driving all the way back to Bedford?”

She laughs at his slight disbelief. “Well, yeah. It’s only a 10 hour drive.”

Suddenly, an idea pops into Trevor’s head, and before he can overthink it, he blurts it out. “What if I came with you?” She blinks, and he forges on. “I mean, I don’t have much going on and it’d be nice to go home before pre-season. I’ll help you load your car and pay for your gas and meals and-”

“Trevor, I-are you sure? You don’t have to…we literally just reconnected after not seeing each other for over a decade.”

“I know I don’t have to do anything,” he says, now trying everything to convince her. “If I’m overstepping, you can tell me and I’ll immediately lay off. But it just seems like…maybe some company could be nice. And we could switch off driving too.”

She bites her lip and tilts her head curiously, trying to find something in his face. It only took her a couple of seconds to chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure. Why not? Come join me on my drive back home.”

He lights up, grinning widely. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“When are you planning on leaving?”

“Monday.”

In two days. Perfect.

“This is gonna be so fun. Just you wait.”

“I don’t doubt it. Fun seems to always follow you wherever you go.”

He has to let her go, since she has some last things to do as the wedding planner. He kisses her cheek quickly before he leaves the reception, to which Quinn raises an eyebrow at but doesn’t say anything. The next morning, during the quick and informal thank you breakfast for the bridal party at a nearby, fancy-ish brunch place, Jack throws him under the bus (“Saw you getting pretty comfortable with Isabelle yesterday,”) and he reveals their plan for the next day.

It might be one of the most TV show worthy reactions from every single person, bridesmaid and groomsmen. Luke chokes on his mimosa, Quinn shakes his head, Alex blinks, Nico has a shit-eating grin on his face, Jack smirks and Cole lets out a bark of laughter. The girls have all been filled in and equally have similar reactions. Amelie immediately says “you’re joking,” Michelle, at the same time as Amelie, says “ain’t no way,” Kaia, like Alex, just blinks. Nicole and Sarah’s jaws drop wide open, Annemarie starts cackling and Isla drops her fork.

“What?” Trevor responds, munching on his bacon. “Why all the reactions?”

“Z, are you sure about this?” Quinn asks, ever the voice of reason.

“Yes? It’s just a drive. Everyone needs a car buddy for that long of a drive. Gives me an excuse to go home too.”

“Trevor,” Amelie starts. “I think we’re all just a bit confused because this is…not that we don’t like Isabelle! She’s wonderful. But this just seems out of the blue.”

Jack snorts. “There’s nothing confusing about this at all.” Everyone, Trevor included, turns to look at the new groom, who just shrugs while taking a sip of his coffee. “He likes her.”

“For real?”

“Oh my.”

“Okay, Z! Atta boy.”

“Haven’t you not seen her for like, 10 years?”

“Have you liked her this whole time?”

“That’s crazy.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Trevor says above everyone’s exclamations. He waits until everyone’s settled. “I don’t like her. Not like that, at least. She’s just…I don’t know. It was good to see her again after so long. It felt like going back to old times. Simpler times.”

“It’s giving childhood friends to lovers,” Michelle says, making everyone laugh. Trevor rolls his eyes again and the subject is dropped.

Jack volunteers to drive Trevor to Belle’s before him and Amelie’s flight to Greece tonight for their honeymoon. He doesn’t leave Quinn and Jack’s place without chirps from every single person still there, gathering their things and cleaning up. He makes sure to leave with giving Amelie a tight hug and a fond kiss on her cheek before playfully glaring at everyone else as he leaves.

He climbs into the passenger seat. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“We’ve known each other since we were 16, Z.” Jack says, starting the car. “Nothing you do fazes me anymore.”

Trevor just hums, staring at one of his dearest friends who is now a husband. “Congrats, Jacky. I know I’ve said it a lot recently, but I’m really happy for you.”

A small smile spreads across Jack’s face, as he automatically goes to touch his wedding ring. “Thanks, man.” Silence falls between them. “Did you ever, even just the slightest, like Isabelle as more than a friend? And be honest with me.”

“No,” Trevor replies honestly. “I always knew she was kind and thoughtful, but she was always just Connor’s little sister and kept to herself and her own friends most of the time.”

“And now? Do you like her now?”

“I don’t know,” Trevor replies honestly. If Jack is shocked, he doesn’t show it. Trevor clears his throat, “We haven’t seen each other in over 10 years. I don’t know her enough anymore to know if I like her.”

Jack just hums. “Look, I…”

“You what?” Silence. “Jack.”

“Amelie and I got pretty close with Isabelle beyond her being our wedding planner. Maybe it’s because she’s close to our age or just easy to get along with. I think…she never told us directly, but I think something happened, Z.”

“What do you mean something happened?”

“Well, I wasn’t there, but her and Amelie went out for casual drinks once to plan some stuff out and Amelie was, you know, casually asking her about relationships and if she ever dreamed of her own wedding, and she got super…not defensive. But Amelie said it was like a switch turned on. All she said is that at some point she did, but she’s not at that point of her life anymore, and then she immediately changed the topic. It’s none of my business, I get that, but she’s also my friend, Z. Just…look out for her, okay?”

“Of course I will,” Trevor promises as Jack slows down in front of Belle’s house. They both climb out of the car and Trevor grabs his backpack, duffle and garment bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for driving.” Trevor embraces his friend in a tight hug.

“Anytime,” Jack says. “Thanks for everything this last week. And just in general. I love you.”

“Love you too, man. Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Jack smiles. “Thank you. You two drive safe, eh? Let Amelie and I know when you're back in New York.”

Trevor just nods, before walking up to the front door and knocking. Within seconds, Belle opens the door with a wide smile. She looks beyond Trevor’s shoulder and waves at Jack as he drives away.

“Hi!”

Trevor can’t help but smile at her energy. It’s infectious. “Hey, Belle. Are you sure you don’t mind letting me crash for the night? I can always get Quinn to come get me later.”

She opens the door wider to let him in. “It’s not a bother at all. As long as you’re good with sleeping on the floor.” He just waves her off, setting his duffle and backpack down and looking around at the barren household. “I would give you a tour, but there’s really not much to see anymore.”

“You need any help?”

She smiles at him sweetly. “I have some boxes in the garage that you could help me move?”

He’s eager to help, until he lifts the first box, grunting about how heavy it is. Belle just chuckles, because why else had she not moved these in her car yet? If she has a professional hockey player volunteering to help her move, then she might as well put him to use, right? Trevor just rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but let a smile peek through at hearing Belle’s giggles. Once the car is packed (it takes longer than usual, as they stand out in the driveway and in the garage inbetween moving, chirping at each other and catching up), they realize it’s getting close to dinner time especially if they want to get an early start in the morning. Trevor asks what she wants to have (“as your last night living in the state of Michigan”) and she lights up, dialing up the place of her favorite Asian fusion takeout place. Trevor tries to hand over his card but she smacks it out of his hand, glaring at him while still on the phone.

It’s a nice day outside, so they decide to venture out and have dinner on the front porch that she’s going to miss very much, leaning their backs against the panels of the house, sitting a comfortable 4 feet apart, Trevor’s knees pulled up and Belle with her legs outstretched and ankles crossed. He watches as she looks out at the sunset painting the quiet residential street, which is even more stunning than usual. If you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of kids gleefully screaming and dogs barking here and there. For a moment, Trevor feels like he’s intruding as Belle continues staring out, lost in her own world. Her focus only shifts a few minutes later when a car rolls up with their take out, as she jumps up and accepts the food with a gracious smile.

He helps her open boxes and suddenly there’s a generous spread of food between them as they start eating.

Trevor breaks the silence. “You never told me why.”

“Why what?”

“Why you’re leaving Michigan.”

She’s in the middle of stuffing a crab rangoon in her mouth. She chews and swallows for a couple of seconds. “It’s a long story.”

“I have nothing but time if you want to share.”

“I lied. It’s not really a long story. Just a sad one. That’s just my go-to when people ask.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Ever. But you also don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She lets out a deep sigh. “I was supposed to get married earlier this year.”

He blinks. Once. twice. And he’s speechless for once in his life. She barrels on.

“Nate and I…I met him at UMich my junior year. I had full plans to leave Michigan right after college. Not that I don’t love it here, but I just wanted to go home. But he got an offer here after graduation and I found a gig working for a great wedding planner so I stayed. And it was good. The brief stint in Santa Ana I mentioned was because of his job, so we moved out there. But I really didn’t mind. I actually really enjoyed California.” She picks at her fingernails, “He proposed to me the beginning of last year, a week before we were gonna move back to Michigan. And I was happy. Really happy. So many years I had been planning other people’s weddings and I was finally going to have my own with someone I loved.”

“Belle, you don’t have to-”

She waves him off. “The day of our cake tasting, we were running late and he was in the shower and I grabbed his phone to put in my bag. And there was a text that flashed on my lock screen. ‘Missed you, baby. See you tonight’ and that was it. He had been cheating on me for almost a year. I moved out that night and crashed with a friend for a few weeks before finding this place. Grabbed my shit when I knew he was gone during the day at work. Canceled all of the deposits. Gave the ring back.” She chuckles, albeit sadly. “Funny. The week after I found out, I had my first consultation with Amelie and Jack and honestly, throwing myself into their wedding planning may have saved me, not that they know that. Anyways, yeah. That’s why I’m leaving Michigan. I honestly would’ve done it sooner but I had to stick it out for those two. They deserved it.”

Trevor’s silent for a couple more moments. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“If we see him out and about, point him out so I can kick his ass.”

Her chuckle comes out broken but genuine. “Connor was real close when I told him. I was afraid he’d just start driving here. So you’d have to get behind him in line.”

“Gladly,” he scoots closer to her and offers an arm. She collapses into his side. “God, Belle. I’m so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you.”

She sniffles. “It’s okay.”

“No, Belle. It’s not okay. What an asshole.” He can feel tears on his shirt and he starts rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You deserve someone to love you just as much as you love them. Someone to put you above all, who views your love and presence as a privilege. Because it is a privilege. I would know.”

She snorts, still sniffling. “You made fun of me all the time when we were younger.”

“Nah ah ah. Connor did. I didn’t. And that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how lovely you were even back then. Why do you think Connor and I were so against you going on a date with that guy…what was his name?”

“Trent.”

“Yeah. Trent. First of all, just sounds like a douchebag.”

“And Trevor is so much better?”

“Second, because he was an ass. We didn’t terrorize you about it just because. We terrorized you about it because we knew he had cheated on his ex-girlfriend.”

“Maybe if you had ever met Nate, you could’ve sniffed out his bullshit right away. Took me around 6 years to figure it out.”

“You’ve always had good judgment, Belle. No need to blame yourself when you did nothing wrong.”

“Did I though?” She whispers. “Do nothing wrong, I mean. What if-what if I was working too much or I wasn’t attentive enough or I didn’t-”

Trevor shakes his head adamantly. “Belle, no. Stop. Absolutely not. You did enough. You were enough. I’m not gonna sit here and let you pick apart yourself unfairly. You stayed in Michigan for him. You moved to Santa Ana for him. You gave all you had. And he’s the one who fucked it all up. That’s not on you.”

She signs, a bit defeated but musters a small smile. “Thanks, Trevor.”

“Of course.” He stuffs a piece of sushi in his mouth.

She shoots him a small smile that has him swallowing roughly. “Nonetheless, I’m really happy we ran into each other. It’s been nice to have a slice of home back in my life again.”

Trevor just smiles, staring into her warm eyes. “Me too.”

…..

It’s hour two into the 10 hour drive when she breeches the subject again.

“Connor never liked him.” Trevor turns to look at Belle, who has one hand on the wheel casually. He automatically turns the music down as she continues. “He tried to get along with him, for my sake. But Connor was never sold. I always thought it was just him being a protective older brother. When I asked why, he always just gave some vague answer. Didn’t like his vibe, or whatever. It’s been hard not to agonize over now. If I should’ve just listened to him from the start.” Trevor doesn’t know what to say, but just faces her fully so she knows that he’s listening. She lets out a heavy breath as she puts her sunglasses atop her head. “I never asked. How’s your love life?”

Trevor snorts and the playfulness is back in the air again. “Well, not married like Connor is. I’ve had a couple things here or there. Clearly nothing that’s stuck.”

“Any particular reason why?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit small even though he knows that’s not her intention whatsoever. “I think when people date me, they don’t necessarily want all of me, you know? They want the jokester and the charmer. They don’t want the shifts in mood or the obsession of figuring out why I’m in a scoring drought or the insecurities.”

Belle hums sympathetically. “I think you just haven’t found the right one yet.”

“You sound like Quinn.”

She laughs. “From the small amount of interactions I’ve had with him, I’d say that sounds pretty on brand.” She shrugs. “You have time though. We all do. If that’s something you even want.”

“What? Marriage?”

“Yeah.”

“I do, I think. Want that, I mean. It’s just…hard. And scary. The thought of giving someone all of you? That’s giving them a lot of power.”

“I get it,” she says. “God, I really get that.”

“Is marriage not something you want anymore?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. I think I still do. It’s just…it’s still too soon, you know? And I don’t know if I have the energy to, like you said, give someone all of me again. I got hurt once. I don’t know if I can afford that again.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. So anybody would be lucky to love you.”

And shit, that kinda slipped out. His heart starts racing as she looks at him briefly in surprise. “That’s…that’s very kind of you, Trevor. Probably too big of a compliment.”

“Not too big of a compliment,” he automatically responds, digging himself into a deeper hole that he can’t even decipher. If he thinks about it too hard, he would realize that this is the most open he’s been with someone outside of his tight circle in awhile. And a week ago, she hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“You know, you were my favorite out of Connor’s friends back then.”

A pang of satisfaction touches his heart and he’s grinning. “Yeah?”

Belle rolls her eyes at his slight smugness. “Don’t let that get to your head.”

“Too late.”

“I don’t know. I just..liked how friendly you were to everyone you encountered. I don’t think there was ever a time when you came over and didn’t strike up a conversation with me. Even though I was quiet and shy, you still always treated me like a person.”

“I feel like that’s the bare minimum, no?”

She shrugs. “Now that we’re in our late twenties, sure. But back when we were 12, 13 years old? You’d be surprised.”

He watches her drum her fingers against the steering wheel, the patterned bandana in her ponytail swinging with the wind, wispies from her ponytail framing her face. If he looks hard enough, he can see 10 year old Belle sitting on the sofa in the Holloway’s living room, a sketchbook on her lap and a glass of apple juice next to her. If he listens hard enough, he can hear her humming to ‘Love Story’ as he leaves Connor’s room to walk past her room in the hallway to the bathroom. Maybe he can even smell her vanilla body spray that used to always filter out of her room if he breathes in deeply enough.

All he can see and hear and feel is his childhood self. Looking at her makes him feel blissfully young, a bit naive and incredibly out of his depth.

She casts him a casual glance. “You good?”

Trevor grins easily. “Never better.”

It’s hour five after stopping for lunch. Trevor’s behind the wheel now and her legs are up on the seat with her as she stares out the window, her chin on her knees. He has an urge to put a hand on her knee. To comfort her or to let her know that he’s there, he doesn’t know. But he refrains.

“Belle?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

She turns to face him, chin still on her knees. “Should I be nervous?”

He snorts. “No. I’m just a dumb hockey player. What could I possibly say that would catch you off guard?”

“You’re not dumb. And plenty. You knew me when I was 13 and in my awkward phase. That’s longer than most of the people I’ve seen in the last five years. What’s your question?”

Okay, Trevor can dissect all of that later. ““Are you going to miss Michigan?”

She lets out a thoughtful hum. “I’ll miss parts of it. I loved going to college at Michigan, made a lot of friends from college and work. And I grew up a lot here. Not to mention, Michigan’s almost unfairly beautiful. I’ll also weirdly miss my porch a lot. But also, it’s tough driving around with thoughts of Nate at every corner. Because he’s present in practically all the memories I have here. So I’m glad I’m leaving because I know I need to.” He turns to her quickly and sees her lip quiver. Almost as if he had imagined it, she offers a small smirk. “That’s the question you were so afraid to ask me?”

He sputters out a laugh. “What does that mean?” He asks defensively.

She shakes out her hair to redo her ponytail. "You never had a problem asking anything to anyone back in the day.”

“Things change.”

She pauses for a split second before tying up her hair and looking at him. “They do. I’m sorry for assuming they don’t.”

Hour eight and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a bit now. One can only talk for so long, even someone as chatty as Trevor. Belle’s behind the wheel again and her phone is plugged in playing music. The playlist he had put on initially has cycled through and without asking, he plugged her phone in and shuffled a random playlist of hers.

He vaguely recognizes Taylor Swift’s voice and looks to see what song it is. ‘The Archer.’ His ears perk up as he listens to her softly sing along, and then, he’s actually listening to the words.

Belle’s eyebrows are pinched together as she sings about people seeing right through her and how all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put her together again. He wants to offer her a hand to squeeze, a touch for support, but he doesn’t.

He clears his throat. “So. Santa Ana. What was your favorite part?”

She automatically grins. “All of it? I don’t know. I liked my job. I liked the area. I liked the weather. It felt like a breath of fresh air, in a way.”

“Would you consider moving back?”

“Maybe. I honestly haven’t really thought of anything but leaving Michigan recently.”

He stops asking her questions. He doesn’t want to keep bringing up the pain.

By the time she rolls into the driveway of Trevor’s childhood home, it’s almost 8 pm. Almost as soon as she kills the engine, the front door opens, revealing both his parents. Julie runs out, only barely letting Belle step out of the car before throwing her arms around her. He smiles fondly as his mother puts her hands on Belle’s cheeks as the younger woman chuckles, before turning to Gary and giving him a quick hug as well. Trevor drags his stuff out of the trunk and shuts it, smiling to himself as he listens to his mother invite Belle and her parents over for dinner the next night and watching Belle nod enthusiastically.

She then turns to him and it feels like someone has reached into his heart and punched it. She smiles. “Thanks for the company.”

He puts down his duffle and scoops her into a tight hug, only letting her go after giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

(And if he catches his mom giving him an inquisitive look as they all watch Belle back out of the driveway, he doesn’t say anything)

Tomorrow comes and Trevor’s content with mostly being lazy, adjusting to being home and around his parents. It feels weird to be in these walls without Griffin and Ava, but then again, he’s sure it’s one-sided. He moved away when he was so young, leaving behind his supportive parents and his even-more-supportive siblings. They got used to Trevor not being around.

He’s recapping Jack’s wedding to his father on the patio while his mom is preparing pies in preparation for the Holloways, the mouthwatering smell filtering through the screen door. He smiles as he recalls the week leading up when he went early and was roped into helping out, how beautiful Amelie looked and how he had never seen Jack that excited and happy before, not when he was drafted first overall, not when he won the Eastern Conference Final. He talks about how their vows made Trevor tear up and just how fun it was to celebrate two people he loves. He talks about reconnecting with Belle and briefly brushes over their drive back. He gives vague answers when his parents — mostly his mom — try to pry more, partially because it’s so much that he’s still trying to decipher it himself and partially because some of it isn’t his place to tell.

An hour later, he can’t help but beam as Belle’s parents greet him similarly to how his greeted Belle the day before. He helps Susan bring in the pasta salad and shakes Kurt’s hand, his slight nerves settling as the first thing Kurt says is how proud of Trevor he is. Belle is the last one who walks through the door, listening to the moms talking animatedly in her ear. She’s wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a denim jacket over her shoulders and she’s glowing. He itches to give her a hug but just settles for a grin instead before turning his full attention to Kurt.

It’s when the parents are filtering outside does he get a chance to say hello to her as they both hang back in the kitchen. She bumps her hip with his. “Long time no see.”

He pulls her into a side hug. “Hilarious. Want anything to drink before heading out there?”

She eyes the few bottles of wine in the mini wine cabinet. “White wine if it’s not too much of a hassle?”

He opens the fridge and grabs a wine glass. “My mom put a bottle in the fridge earlier. It’s her favorite, so if it’s bad, it’s not my fault.” She takes the glass from him graciously and he grabs a bottle of beer for himself as they both head outside.

“It’s weird being here without Connor.”

“I was just thinking earlier how it’s weird being here without Griffin and Ava.”

“At least we have each other, right?”

He hums. “Good thing.” She then gets roped into a conversation with his father and he happily takes a backseat, answering when a question is directed towards him but perfectly content in watching her.

(Julie and Susan, who had never really considered these two as a pair, nudge each other and exchange a few words, watching as Belle laughs while sipping her wine and Trevor just stares at her.

“She was supposed to get married last year. To a guy she met in college.”

Julie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that right?”

“Yup. Until she caught him cheating.”

Julie sighs. “I wish we could protect our kids from everything that could hurt them.”

“I do too.” Susan watches her daughter wistfully and lovingly. “She’s always thrown herself into work, But especially after the break-up. You have no idea how relieved I was when she told me she was coming home.”

“Does she know where she’s going next?”

“Not that I know of. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t know.”

“She’ll be okay,” Julie says confidently, rubbing her old friend’s shoulder. “I’ve never had any doubt about Belle.”

“But you had doubt in the others?” Susan teases as Julie snorts. “All our kids are doing well for themselves, but you have one who is the definition of achieving their childhood dream.”

Julie sighs thoughtfully, looking at Trevor. “He’s done well for himself, I think.”

“You think?”

Julie just smiles, clinking her glass against Susan’s.)

Meat is grilled, salads are tossed and food is eaten as the sun fades away. Sometime between sunset and when the sky becomes black, the fireplace is lit and the outdoor lamps are turned on. Trevor switched to water after his second beer, liver still trying to recover from the wedding festivities.

Trevor finds Belle sitting by the edge of the pool with her feet dipped in, sandals to the side of her. Her hands are folded on her lap as she stares down, occasionally kicking her feet a bit to make the water ripple. He clears his throat so he doesn’t startle her. She looks up and her lips quirk up at seeing him, but they soon fall, as she turns back to the water and tilts her head to the side, taking a deep breath.

Trevor licks his dry lips. “Come with me?”

“Where are we going?” She asks, accepting the hand he offers as she gets up and slips on her shoes, adjusting her dress.

“You’ll see. We won’t be long.” Wordlessly, they go around the side of the house to go to the driveway. He catches his mom’s eye and just offers a small smile. Julie’s eyes flicker between him and Belle before she nods. Belle doesn’t say anything as Julie tosses her son the keys to her car, letting Trevor lightly tug her along by loosely intertwining their hands. He opens the passenger door for her and she gives him a grateful look as she slips in.

He hasn’t been to his intended destination in at least five years, but he knows the route all the same, easily driving the seven minutes. He sneaks a glance or two at Belle as the minimal streetlights light her face aglow for a few seconds at a time. Before he overthinks it, he reaches out and grabs her hand gently, waiting for her to pull away. She doesn’t, instead lacing her hand with his and squeezing once.

“I haven’t been here since I was in high school,” Belle says as Trevor kills the engine, the tranquility of the small lake and lookout everyone who grew up in Bedford called “Pink Sun” due to the incredibly beautiful sunsets one could see if they were lucky, no one knowing that it’s actual government name was. He’s almost confident that this specific lookout is private property, due to the string lights adorning the trees meticulously that seem to always be on, but whoever owns the property clearly doesn’t care. He would come in the summers from time to time with friends like Connor after he moved away for hockey, but he knows he didn’t experience it the same way as others did.

“Which tree did you have sex under?” Trevor asks as they get out of the car and open the trunk. He quickly fluffs up the two pillows his mom has in the car at all times and pulls the blanket over them both as they get comfortable.

She chuckles and Trevor immediately smiles at the sound. “Gross.”

“What? Isn’t that what people did?” She just lightly slaps him before they both fall into a comfortable silence again. She takes her hand from under the blanket and reaches out to find Trevor’s. He offers his hand immediately. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

She starts sniffling, and when he turns to her, concerned, he sees tears rushing down her face. He immediately wraps his arms around her and maneuvers her so that she’s crying into his chest. He tries to be steady for her shaking body, rubbing her back and muttering sweet nothings to assure that he’s here and she’s not alone. He places a couple of kisses on top of her head without thinking because there’s a split down the middle of his heart that’s widening everytime she whimpers.

She cries. The water ripples. Trevor holds her close.

…..

The entire time Trevor’s back home, he doesn’t go more than a day without seeing Belle. They get ice cream, sitting in the chairs that haven’t been replaced in at least 30 years and giggling as the ice cream drips over their fingers. They go back to Pink Sun to watch the sunset. Because this whole month has him feeling nostalgic, he goes back to his old rink in Stamford and she tags along, indulging him as he pulls up his hoodie over himself as they watch the last 15 minutes of a game the AAA team that Trevor used to be a part of is playing in. Some of the front office staff is still the same and they all immediately beam when seeing Trevor. He chokes up a bit when talking to some of them. He’s missed it here more than he thought he would.

After training sessions, he just shows up to her house without any warning. They take a lot of drives, passing by landmarks they know well and ones they don’t know at all. They spend hours chatting on the porch of her parents’ place, waving at neighbors as they walk by and petting their dogs. She doesn’t cry in his chest again, but there are stretches of silence where she craves a comforting shoulder. Trevor doesn’t hesitate to offer his.

He learns more about why she enjoys wedding planning and her time in Michigan. She learns more about how his goals have changed the longer he’s been in the league and his time in Anaheim. They both talk about times they feel like they’ve had their heart ripped to pieces and he finds himself admitting things he’s never admitted out loud to anyone — not Jamie, not Jack, not Cole, not Alex.

He wonders to himself how he’s lived this long without her in his life.

The day Trevor has to leave for Anaheim, she offers to drive him to LaGuardia, smiling as he hugs his parents goodbye in the driveway, promising to see them soon when the Ducks are playing in New York.

She shuts the trunk at the departures drop-off area with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss you, Trev.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” And then he practically manhandles her into a tight hug, his chin resting on her shoulder, rubbing her back before pulling away. “If you ever wanna come out to Anaheim, there’s always a place for you to stay.”

“I’ll think about it.” With most people, it’s an empty promise. But with Belle, he knows she means it. “Good luck this season. Score some goals, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes, arms still around her waist. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You have my number. Use it.”

She nods, tilting her head to the side. “Okay.” She presses a kiss on his cheek before he forces himself to let go. She sticks her hands in her jean pockets. “Text me when you land?”

“Of course. Bye, Belle. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye. Travel safe.”

Trevor forces himself not to look back as he walks through the automatic doors.

…..

The first roadie of the season includes a stop in Chicago, and Trevor doesn’t hesitate to text Connor. He feels the familiar pang in his heart again, guilty that he hasn’t reached out until now. But when he and Connor meet up for a quick coffee the morning of the game, it washes away quickly. They fall right back to where they were when they were 16, even though they’re both over a decade older and a bit wiser now. Trevor practically shoves two tickets for the game for him and his wife, even though Connor is trying to bat his hand away.

After the game, the three of them go to dinner and he gets introduced to Ashley, Connor’s wife, who is peppy and fun and he loves seeing her and Connor together. After dinner, Ashley excuses herself to go home as the two of them migrate to a nearby pub. They have years to catch up on.

“Belle tell you about the break-up?”

Trevor scoffs, taking a hefty sip of his beer. “Yeah. Fucking asshole.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth. When she decided to get the fuck out of Michigan, I was relieved.”

“Yeah?”

Connor sighs. “Yeah. I know she says she stayed because of the Hughes wedding, but I also think it’s because she had a hard time letting go. Which, you know, who can blame her, right?” Trevor just nods sympathetically. Connor leans back, eyes flickering elsewhere for a moment. “Thanks, by the way.”

“What for, man?”

“For looking out for her.” There’s a hint of relief in Connor’s tone. “She’s always been independent, I’m sure you remember. And she has a hard time letting people know that she’s struggling, even if we all see it and want to help. Whatever you did, thank you, man. It’s appreciated.”

Trevor bites his tongue. He wants to say that he doesn’t have to thank him for being a good friend, but Connor is adamant. So Trevor just smiles.

…..

The season’s in full swing, but Trevor makes the effort to keep in contact with Belle frequently. Whether it’s sending a meme or calling on his way to practice, Belle becomes a part of his daily life.

A month in Bedford now and he can tell she’s getting a bit restless. She’s taken up crocheting, which Trevor loves to make fun of her for. Until he finds a little box on his doorstep and opens it to find a crocheted Wild Wing. He hands it on his rearview mirror in the car. He doesn’t fully realize she’s watching his games until he sees a text from her after a game against New Jersey (“Don’t let Jack hang the win over your head too much. That slapshot was insane.”) and that has him grinning much too widely for someone who just lost.

On Thanksgiving Day, after one of the guys’ families hosts a Friendsgiving for the whole team, he’s back at his place on the couch when she calls him.

Her face comes up on the screen and he has to smile. “Oh. Hey.” she says gently. “I didn’t actually expect an answer.”

“You just caught me. I just got home from Friendsgiving with the team. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

He doesn’t recognize her background. “Where you at?”

“My aunt’s. They’re all watching the game in the basement so I decided to take a break up in the living room.”

“Good food?”

“I’m fucking stuffed,” she admits, making Trevor laugh. “I’m not bad in the kitchen, but nothing beats a good homemade turkey and stuffing.”

“I feel you. So what’s been happening? Haven’t called in a bit.”

“It’s been, like, a week, Trev.”

“Exactly. A bit.”

She rolls her eyes, before leaning back further into the couch. “Actually, I do have news. Kinda.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I, uh, heard back from two people about a job. My old boss from Santa Ana said there’s a spot open for me if I want it. And then my boss in Michigan recommended me to someone in Manhattan, and she called me yesterday and also said I had a job if I wanted it.”

He grins. “Belle. That’s amazing! Congratulations. I’m not surprised though. I know firsthand how damn good you are at your job.”

He sees her blush slightly and he thinks it’s adorable. She twirls her hair around her finger. “Thanks. I’m, yeah. It’s pretty exciting. I’m excited to get back into it again.”

“So. California and New York. Those are two pretty different places.”

She sighs. “Yeah. That’s partially why I called you. Kinda want to get another opinion.”

Before he can stop himself, he snorts. “You’re telling me you haven’t made a pros and cons list already? Don’t think I don’t remember you forcing me to make one when I was deciding if I should go to Avon.”

She tilts her head to the side. “You remember that?”

“There’s not a lot of memories I have from growing up here that don’t have you in them. Of course I remember.”

She bites her lip but Trevor can see the smile peeking through. She clears her throat. “I do. Have a list.”

“So you’ve already made your decision.”

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. “Yes and no. I really do want your opinion, Trevor.”

“Floor’s all yours.”

“I love New York, but I don’t know if I can stay here. If I go back to Santa Ana, is it going to be like Michigan again? I don’t know what Santa Ana is like without Nate.”

“No,” he responds immediately. “It won’t be.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because Santa Ana is yours, Belle. No one else’s. You said it yourself. You loved your time there. If Michigan doesn’t feel like home anymore and New York feels too much like your past self, California is waiting for you.”

A couple seconds of silence before a small chuckle erupts from Belle. “You take a creative writing class at BU or something? That was actually eloquent.”

If he were next to her, he’d shove her off the couch. He just huffs as she keeps laughing. “My point is, is that you can make fresh starts in familiar areas. Plus, not that I have anything to do with this, but Santa Ana is pretty damn close to Anaheim.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“I mean, can you blame me? ” He leans back on the couch. “I don’t think you’re incapable of moving on. I think, in a way, you aren’t ready to, and that’s why Santa Ana scares you. You have to and are inevitably going to make new memories wherever you are, but you just have to do it. Take the leap. Dive in the deep end. Whatever the fuck they say.”

And well, that came out a bit harsher than Trevor intended, if the slight flinch on Belle’s face is an indication. But she sighs, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Fuck, Trev. Maybe I shouldn’t have quit and stayed in Michigan.”

“Stop,” he says. “We’re not doing that. Now you have to come out to California. Who else is gonna tell you to get your head out of your ass?” His goal is achieved as she laughs. “Seriously though. Whatever choice you make, you have my full support.”

Four days later, he sees that Belle left him a voicemail in the middle of the game. She’s coming to Santa Ana. Trevor starts organizing the guest room.

…..

Three days into the new year and Trevor finds himself running out of morning skate to drive to LAX. Belle’s staying with him while she looks for her own place, at Trevor’s insistence. He told her she can stay as long as she needs. He hopes she takes that offer seriously.

He rolls up to the arrivals terminal and idles his car, seeing a text from Belle indicating that she’s still waiting to pick up her luggage. He leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath adjusting the baseball cap on his head, bopping along to the latest playlist that he made for this season.

He’s about to do a drum solo on his steering wheel when he spots Belle come out of the double doors, rolling two suitcases, backpack on her back and a tired but genuine smile on her face. He immediately leaps out of the car, running to lift her up in a hug, making her chuckle.

“Hey Trevor.”

He kisses her cheek before putting her down. “Belle of the Ball. How was your flight?”

“Good. Long,” she reaches to get her suitcases and he waves her off, lifting her suitcases easily into his trunk as she slips into the passenger seat. She sags into the seat and turns to him with a bigger smile as he turns on the engine. “It’s really good to see you.”

He reaches to ruffle her hair to ignore the funny feeling in his stomach. “Missed you too.”

They catch each other up on what’s been happening since the last time they talked, so only really the last week. Once he turns off the highway, he opens the windows and he periodically glances at Belle, who’s leaning her head on the seatbelt strap as the houses blur by. She tucks her hair behind both her ears and Trevor feels his throat start to close up.

“Hungry?”

“A bit.”

“Enough to wait a bit so I can cook something up?”

She looks toward him in subdued delight. “You cook?”

“Decently, I’d say.”

“What are you gonna make me?”

Whatever you want, he thinks. “I make a pretty good steak.”

“Well, I’m not gonna say no to a personal chef.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he points at her jokingly. She laughs, but honestly, Trevor doesn’t hate the idea.

Belle’s car got shipped yesterday to Trevor’s place the week prior, so two days later, when Belle starts work and Trevor has to go to morning skate, they leave the house at the same time after cups of coffee and climb into their own cars, Belle wearing a red sleeveless blouse and white jeans and Trevor wearing a Duck t-shirt and shorts.

Before she can fully get into her car, Trevor runs around and squeezes her, making her squeal. “Good luck today. You’re gonna kill it.”

“Thanks Trevor. Have fun at morning skate.”

“Are you still cool with a couple of the guys coming over for dinner?”

“It’s your house, dude. You can invite over whoever you want.”

“It’s also your home too,” Trevor insists.

She rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not. But of course you can have your friends over. I’m excited to meet them.” She gets in her car, but before she shuts the door, she puts her head out. “Do you mind grabbing some orange juice? I think you’re running out and I drink more of it than you do. Just Venmo request me.”

“Yeah, I gotcha. Won’t Venmo request you though,” she opens her mouth to protest but he just taps the roof of her car twice. “We can talk about splitting stuff later. Bye now!”

“Dick,” she mutters as she shuts her door. He chuckles. He lets her back out of the driveway first.

That night, Mason, Jamie and Leo come over and the four of them are finishing up cooking dinner when Belle walks in. A bit flushed and sweaty, she’s nothing but smiles as she slips off her shoes, putting down her bag and introducing herself. She hugs each of them with a sweet smile before finally reaching Trevor. She hugs him like she did with the other three, but he thinks she holds on a bit longer. He smacks a friendly kiss on her cheek, but he catches Jamie’s eye as she pulls away and he knows he’s going to absolutely be grilled about this tomorrow.

Dinner’s practically ready and the guys just shoo Belle away to the dining table, Leo pouring out a glass of wine for her. They chat and swap stories over chicken alfredo and salad, and Trevor’s content sitting back and watching two different parts of his life come together, not even jumping in to defend himself that much when she recalls some shenanigans from Jack’s wedding. Sure, they at least know of Jack, Alex, Cole and other various members of the NTDP crew who knew him when he was 17 and stupid, but Belle’s known him since they were children. Whether she — or Trevor even — realizes it or not, Belle and Trevor know each other in the purest way. The way only childhood allows, where filters of judgment, insecurities and expectations cease to exist.

Even with almost two decades lost in translation, Trevor thinks, in a way, Belle might know him better than most. And he might know her better than most.

Which is why he can sense that an hour after dinner, that Belle is exhausted, so he takes the initiative and the guys immediately pick up on it, bidding Belle goodbye and making her promise that she’ll come to a game soon. Once the door shuts, Trevor goes to start washing the dishes, batting her hand away when she tries to help.

“Trevor. You cooked. I’ll clean.”

“Nope. Go to take a shower. You’ve had a long day.”

“You have too.”

He waves her off. “Go. I got this.” Her shoulders sag in defeat, but she shoots him a thankful smile and heads to shower.

He’s just about finishing up the dishes and wiping down the counter when she walks back in, an old Michigan t-shirt and flannel pants on. She has her book in her hands but comes by next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up?”

He puts the kitchen towel back on the hook and swings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her against his side. “I’m sure. Where you unwinding for the night?”

“Probably the living room, if you don’t mind?”

“Belle. My home is your home. I mean it. I’ll probably join you after I shower.”

And he does, coming back in afterwards with only the living room light being on. He sees Belle curled up on the couch, engrossed in her book as one of the candles he rarely uses is lit up on the table in front of her. The air smells faintly of pine.

“Do you mind if I put on some football? I’ll put the volume low.”

She hums. “Not at all.” With her feet in his lap, blanket tucked over both of them, Trevor thinks that he could get used to this.

…..

Two weeks later, they’re finishing up their takeout when Belle clears her throat. “So I found a place that seems promising.”

Trevor stiffens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s about 10 minutes from here. Just renting for now, which isn’t ideal. But it’s so soon, you know? I don’t wanna buy yet.”

Trevor understands the latter part, absolutely. But he’s still stuck on the first part of what she said. “When would you think of moving out?”

“At the start of the month.”

“That’s next week.”

She grimaces, washing their utensils. “Yeah. I just…I want to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Belle,” his voice lowers into a serious tone that doesn’t come out of him that often. It works, because it gets Belle to look at him. “If you want to move out, I can’t stop you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I love having you here. So please don’t…don’t think you have to move out to get out of my hair. Because you don’t. I’d love for you to stay and live with me. Full time.”

Belle swallows, searching for something in his face. “You mean that?” She whispers.

“Of course I do.” He pushes on. “And you know I’m a shitty liar.”

She chuckles as she finishes washing the dishes. On her way to the bathroom, she stops and just hugs Trevor. He welcomes it with a big smile. “You 100% sure?”

“Yes.”

She pulls away with a smile. “Okay. Your porch is better anyways.”

Trevor laughs, his mind briefly flashing to an image of this place that had been only his for so long one day becoming theirs, with her throw pillows on the couch and fairy lights on the porch and photos of their friends and loved ones hanging on the walls, some they share, some they don’t.

…..

Trevor fully admits it to himself when Christmas rolls up and Belle refuses to go back to New York.

(“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone for Christmas, Trev,” she insists with an eye roll. “We’ll start our own tradition here. It’ll be great.”)

He doesn’t even try to hide his fondness as he watches Belle teetering at the edge of a chair to hang up lights around their living room. Some random Christmas playlist he had queued up at Belle’s prodding is playing through his speaker, and he doesn’t think “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” deserves the grin plastered on his face.

Belle, though. She might deserve it. Be the origin of it, really.

They make too many cookies that they'll have to gift his teammates and her coworkers just so they don’t end up eating all of them. They have holiday movies on in the background for three days straight, some they pay attention to, some they just leave on for background noise. On Christmas morning, after two cups of coffee on Belle’s end to deal with Trevor’s incessant rambling, they’re sat in the front of their tree. The curtains are drawn, offering minimal lighting into their living room. Yet, the twinkling lights on the tree and around their living room paint Belle in the warmest of lights. The blue fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders only adds to her softness and Trevor has to excuse himself after they exchange presents to go in the bathroom.

He splashes cold water in his face and stares at himself. He’s fully in fucking love. Shit.

…..

After that realization, he does the only thing that makes sense to him. Two days later, on the way to practice, he calls Jack. As the phone rings, he thinks that he probably should’ve checked to see if the Devils were playing today, but he also couldn’t be bothered.

Three rings later, Jack’s scratchy voice is projected through Trevor’s car. “Hello?”

“Hey dude.”

“You’re cutting into my pre-game nap. This better be fucking good.”

“I think I’m in love with Belle.”

Silence. A rustle on Jack’s end, before, “Jesus Christ. I knew Amelie should’ve taken the day off today.”

“Jacky,” Trevor practically whines. “Be helpful.”

“Give me a second to think and I will be,” Trevor stops at a light. “Dude. I mean, not completely out of left field. But in love love? That’s big. Considering you only reconnected, what, three months ago?”

“Yeah, I know. Am I being stupid? And I need you to be real with me and tell me if I am.”

“No.”

“I’m not being stupid?”

“No, you’re not being stupid. Z, I knew I wanted to marry Amelie, like, two months after I met her, and we weren’t even dating yet. You and Isabelle have known each other since you were kids.”

“Yeah, but we lost touch for over a decade.”

“Okay and? You spent a good amount of time together when you went back home, right? And she lives with you now, right?”

“She was the only one around at home, and we’ve been living together for maybe a month.”

“Dude, are you trying to convince yourself you are in love with her or that you’re not?”

Trevor shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. Right.”

He hears Jack let out a sigh. “I know you’ve been burned in the past with relationships and stuff, but this is a good thing, okay? She’s a great person. Try not to freak out about it so much.”

“And do what instead?”

“I don’t know,” Jack says sarcastically. “Maybe tell her?”

“Absolutely not,” Trevor says.

“Why not?”

Trevor’s about to tell him that Belle literally was supposed to be married a year ago but clamps his mouth shut. He’s not sure if Jack knows and that’s not his story to tell. “It’s just not a good idea.”

“Lame.”

“I’m gonna hang up and call literally anyone else.”

“Do it,” Jack challenges the empty threat, before softening. “Do you have any idea if she likes you back?”

“No,” Trevor says. “But I also haven’t been thinking about that because I don’t wanna…scare her off? I know she likes me as a friend, otherwise we wouldn’t be living together. But that’s probably all there is to it.”

“Maybe,” Jack says. “Or maybe you’re making assumptions. I’m not saying you have to do anything now, but you’re not stupid, Trev. Especially with stuff like this. And hey, at least you’re in love with someone as awesome as she is. Ooh, can you imagine you two getting married? It would be full circle!”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Trevor says as Jack chuckles. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Anytime. And Z?” Trevor hums to tell Jack to go on. “Don’t beat yourself up so much. You don’t know until you ask.”

Those last two sentences echo through Trevor’s head for the rest of the day, even when he’s at practice and going through the drills. After so many years in the league, he usually always can leave his thoughts at the entrance of the rink and just focus on hockey. But not today. He can tell Troy wants to ask something, but he refrains. It’s not like a distracted Trevor appears often, and Trevor’s thankful his teammate doesn’t push.

When the front door swings open that night and Belle calls out her greeting, Trevor is coming back from being outside the last few hours, where he sat and listened to the birds and just stared at the grass, lost in thought.

Then Belle comes into view, gray sweater over a cream satin dress, tote bag on her shoulder and a tired but bright smile on her face, and Trevor’s not lost anymore.

In fact, as she slides over to him in her socks across the hardwood floor and hugs him in greeting, immediately talking about what they should make for dinner tonight, Trevor’s never felt more sure of where he is and where he should be.

…..

Trevor’s on a long roadie during Valentine’s Day, but he makes sure that he delivers flowers to the house before Belle has to get to work. He had spent an ungodly amount of time selecting which bouquet he wanted to send, and Jamie, the saint that he is, had only blinked when he saw what Trevor was looking at on his phone on the bus home from the game before Trevor could lock his phone.

Imagine if it was Troy. Or Mason. Or fucking Leo, who’s just as much a menace as he was the first day Trevor met him. Everyone loves him and thinks he’s a darling, but Trevor knows better.

He ended up choosing a bouquet from Fresh Sends because the packaging looks sick with the newspaper and the bright colored box and the reviews are all high. Without hesitation, he had picked the largest bouquet, which he knew if Belle knew how much it cost, would probably kick him out of the house or something. But she doesn’t ever need to find out. On the bus, he had hastily typed out a custom note.

Belle,

Happy Valentine’s Day!! Wish we could be watching shitty rom-coms together but I hope this makes up for it. Thankful to have you in my life again. See you when I get back!

It’s not overly romantic, but he can’t exactly confess his love for her over a note when he’s across the country. If he ever confesses, he’s gonna tell her in person, not hide behind a note like a coward.

He wakes up on February 14 in a hotel room with a bleary smile as he wipes the sleep away from his face.

Belle of The Ball

*picture of the flowers*

Trevor!!! these are so so beautiful thank you

You really didn’t have to

Good luck against the Rangers tonight! And tell your parents (and mine) that i said hello❤️

Trevor nets two goals and an assist. He’s on top of the world.

…..

He’s pleasantly surprised to see that he has an incoming call from Amelie on his way home from the rink a week later.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Hughes.”

Amelie chuckles. “Quinn’s gonna be devastated.”

“Quinner has nothing on you.”

“Flatterer,” she says dryly.

“What’s up?”

“Jack told me. About you and Isabelle.”

Trevor almost snorts. When he first met Amelie, way back when they were in their early twenties, she had been way more hesitant on giving her opinion among Jack’s oldest friends. But with time, her sarcasm and vivacity came out, and while Trevor had been initially surprised and amused, it made sense. Anyone who would choose to spend their life with Jack Hughes has to be able to hold their own purely to rival his constant need for attention.

“Did he now?”

“You’re the worst. I’m not gonna tell you the same stuff he did, which by the way, I’m actually pretty impressed by. From the recap he gave me, he actually said some useful stuff. But I will say something that he forgot to tell you.”

“And what is that?”

“That you’re wonderful, Trevor.”

That’s not at all what he was expecting to come out of the photographer’s mouth. All he can muster out is an “Oh?”

“Yeah. And obviously Jack believes the same thing. You know that. But you’re such a lovely guy, Trevor. I’ve known that since the day we met, don’t get me wrong. But I-I’ve talked to Isabelle a few times since the wedding, and she always brings you up. And it’s always positive.”

“What does this have to do with my feelings for her?”

“Do you feel like maybe you feel like you’re not good enough for her? Is that partially why you’re hesitating on telling her? Take out the fact that she was in a long relationship before and broke off an engagement.”

He blinks. “She told you about the engagement thing?”

“Yeah. She came out to Jersey to grab dinner with Jack and I, like, two weeks before she moved to California and told us then. That’s not the point.”

He doesn’t remember Belle mentioning that. But like Amelie said, not the point. “I-I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Trevor. You’re one of the best people I know.”

“That can’t be true,” he tries to protest.

“But it is,” Amelie presses on. “You’re loyal. You’re funny. You have the ability to make anyone feel comfortable, even if you just met them. Your infectious energy elevates every room you walk into. You care deeply about everyone in your life. You were the first of Jack’s friends to be so openly kind to me and you continued to be kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m loud. Harsh. Always has to be on the go or I get bored. Life of the party maybe and a fun time usually, but that’s it.”

Amelie scoffs. “Respectfully, shut the fuck up. Okay, you’re all of those things, so what? You think she doesn’t already know? She probably knows better than any of us. I get being hesitant to do anything because she’s maybe on a different page, I get that. But it’s not because you’re not good enough. Get that shit out of your head.”

Trevor has to laugh, both at the abruptness of this call and unbridled honesty from Amelie’s voice. “I’m not gonna lie. Getting chewed out by my best friend’s wife wasn’t on the list of things I expected today.”

“If you think I’m chewing you out now, you’re lucky Clementine doesn’t know about this yet.”

Trevor actually shudders at the possibility of Clementine Sandoval (well, Clementine Hischier as of two years ago but old habits die hard), lecturing him about this. He still remembers Clem’s lectures she would give Quinn, Jack and Luke when they were all in Michigan. They would usually be over the phone, since she was already out in California for school by then, but even at 17, Trevor knew she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Who else in the world, besides Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, can somehow lecture all three Hughes brothers successfully in one breath?

“She doesn’t?”

“Eh, usually she would. But she’s in her last trimester and Nico would kill me if I stressed her out more.”

And well, Trevor thinks that’s fair enough. He quiets again, thinking. “You think we could be a good match? Belle and I?”

“Yes,” Amelie says with no hesitation. “And I’m not going to tell you why, because I’m pretty sure deep down, you already know.”

He kinda hates that she’s right. Damn, is he this easy to read? He hangs up, but not before promising to give her a call more often.

As they’re leaving practice, Jamie nudges him with his shoulder. “How’s Isabelle?”

“She’s good. She has a wedding in Santa Monica this weekend so I haven’t seen her that much this week.”

“She a good roommate?”

Trevor smirks and elbows him lightly. “Better than you ever were.”

Jamie’s jaw drops, indignant. “Hey! I was a great roommate, thank you very much.”

“You were, you were. Nah, she’s great. We did Christmas just the two of us and it was really nice.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Fuck off, Jimmy.”

“I’m just asking! She chose not to fly home and stayed here with you instead. Ever think about what that could mean?”

Trevor has thought about it a lot recently, actually. But Jamie doesn’t need to know that. He lets out an uncommitted noise, but the look on Jamie’s face tells him that he’s not fooling anyone. Least of all, one of his dearest friends.

Trevor needs to tell her soon. Or get over it.

…..

Trevor never thought to really ask Belle if she wanted to go to a game, which is weird, because why wouldn’t he want a friend out in the stands to cheer him on? But he also knows that Belle wouldn’t be afraid to just ask if she wanted to go, and that her ideal time to unwind after work isn’t necessarily to go into a rowdy arena. She’s perfectly content snuggling in on the couch and watching the game on TV.

But when he mentions that Cole and the Canadiens are coming into town to play, she perks up. During the whole wedding weekend, Trevor could tell that she got pretty comfortable with Cole. Which, to Trevor, makes complete sense. Cole has the ability to make friends quickly and genuinely anywhere he goes. He leaves a ticket on the counter before heading to morning skate, as well as a note allowing her permission to raid his closet for any Ducks merch she so desires to wear.

The game is a fun battle that goes into OT, but Leo gets the game winner with an assist from Trevor and the Honda Center goes nuts. Trevor has plans to grab dinner with Cole and Belle, and he’s in good spirits during media before he meets up with Cole and goes outside to where he told Belle to meet them.

The boys see her before she sees them. Belle’s leaning against the wall of the arena on her phone, one of his jerseys tucked into black jeans and a black blazer completing the look. Cole calls out her name and she immediately puts her phone away with a smile, letting Cole hug her tightly with a chuckle. Trevor trails behind, watching the scene in happiness. Trevor tells Belle where he made dinner reservations, and she gets into her own car to follow them.

As Trevor watches Cole and Belle talk at dinner, it’s overwhelming, his love for her. Cole’s pulling out some old-school stories from way back during their program days and Belle’s absolutely loving it, pulling out some of her own stories from her college days and Trevor feels so fucking lucky. There’s a particular thing that Cole says that has her coughing up her water and she’s laughing so hard and Trevor feels so fucking fond.

Tomorrow, he promises himself. He has to tell her tomorrow.

…..

He doesn’t tell her tomorrow. But in his defense, he has to go on a road trip and she’s busy at work.

Somehow, after dinner with Cole, he had gone to sleep earlier than she did but had woken up before her to a short but sweet note on the kitchen counter. In her cursive, he smiles at her words.

Trev,

Thank you for dinner and a fun game <3 Wanted to tell you tonight but by the time I got out of the bathroom you were already in bed (old man). Good luck on your road trip to wherever!!

Love,

Belle

He takes the note and folds it carefully, tucking it into his wallet.

…..

At the end of the day, he ends up just blurting it out.

He comes home from the road trip to the smell of something absolutely delicious floating through the house. He peeks his head around the corner to see Belle flittering around the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. The oven beeps and Trevor decides to make his presence known.

“Smells good in here.”

Belle looks over her shoulder and he realizes she’s wearing one of his Ducks hoodies he must’ve had lying around. She beams. “Hey! Welcome home. I felt like making some good old grilled cheese and tomato soup with some roasted vegetables because I guess we need those. Don’t tell your coaches if this fucks up your diet-”

“I love you.”

And well, shit, because that’s definitely not how he pictured this going. For a split second, he thinks he imagined it. But Belle freezes, her back towards him, and he has no idea what to do.

After what seems like a lifetime, she turns off the stove and turns around. “What?”

Trevor walks forward, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that’s okay! I really don’t want this to change anything between us because I love our friendship. But I-I had to say it because it’s driving me crazy not saying it.”

“Trevor-”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Y-you’re such an important part of my life and I really hope this didn’t fuck everything up-”

Belle rushes towards him to put her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to stop his hands from shaking, staring at his feet. He’s breathing really fast, but Belle’s orange blossom perfume and touch calms him down ever so slightly.

“You good?”

He swallows roughly. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly. He gets the courage to look at her face. He sees her smile and he can’t help but smile too. She clears her throat. “I-I thought it was clear, but I guess I’m out of practice. I feel the same way, Trevor. I like you a lot. Maybe not…love. Yet. B-but you’ve become my favorite person. And these last few months have been so…lovely. I just-I haven’t said anything because I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

“That’s okay,” Trevor rushes to assure. Because holy shit, she likes him back? This was farther than he thought he was going to get. He chuckles lightly. “I…shit. Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like me like that.”

“Trevor,” she trails her hands down his arms to grab both of his hands. “Of course I do.”

“Oh,” he says softly.

Belle’s eyes water, and Trevor immediately feels the surge to make her feel better. “But I don’t know if I’m ready, Trev. I don’t know when I will be. And I can’t be the asshole and ask you to wait.”

“Why not?” Trevor challenges.

Belle looks at him incredulously. “Because that’s unfair.”

“Well too bad. Because I’m not gonna listen to you.”

“What?”

“As long as you need. Take your time. I mean it. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I promise.”

She bites her lip, “Trevor, you can’t possibly promise something like that.”

“I can, actually. And I will.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it, before laughing. She squeezes her eyes shut as he places his hands on her cheeks to cup her face. “Okay.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully. “You’re not gonna fight me?”

She shakes her head. “You’ve never been the kind of person to back down.”

He laughs and he so wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t, instead just placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready?”

“If you’re still around,” she jokes.

Trevor grins, his heart growing four times its size. He feels like it might explode out of his chest. “I’ll always be around for you.”

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #anaheim ducks #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x oc #trevor zegras fic #nhl

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myveryownfanfiction · 5 months ago

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Chapter 5

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, period accurate sexism and misogyny, bigotry

After taking me out cruising around Castle Rock, Ace had backed off slightly. I went back to work and Ace tried not to hang around all the time. I looked up from the register as Eyeball came into the shop.

"Hey." I said as he walked over. He smiled at me.

"Hey." Eyeball handed me a piece of paper. "Ace didn't think he'd be able to come in today." I noticed the second piece of paper tucked behind the first and looked at the top of it. In Ace's neat handwriting was his reason for not coming himself. He thought he'd blow my cover. I ducked my head to hide my smile as Eyeball chuckled. "Sent me with the list."

"That busy today huh?" I asked as Gary came out onto the floor. Eyeball wasn't a stranger to the shop, but Gary really only tolerated Ace. The other boys he seemed to have a vendetta against.

“yeah. I finished my car pretty quick so ace said to come get the shit we need.” Eyeball said, eyeing Gary who was skirting around the edge of the shop. “He said stop by the office for rent on your way to the apartment.” I nodded as I grabbed the stuff off the list. Ducking behind the counter, I folded up aces note and shoved it in my pocket. I grabbed a can of oil and slid it onto the counter.

“alright that’s all of it.” I said. “I can bring the paint that came in when I get off. I know those cars aren’t coming in until next week.” Eyeball nodded and handed over the money.

“see ya later (Y/B/N).” Eyeball said as he lugged everything out the door.

“I still can’t believe you live above that shop.” Gary said, standing at the window and watching eyeball head into the garage.

“It was cheap and clean.” I shrugged. “Ace isn’t a terrible landlord and our hours work out. By the time I’m here, they’re opening. When I’m going home, they’re closing. I can’t complain much about that.” Gary shook his head.

“guess not.” He shrugged. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Relax for a bit.” I shrugged.

“sure. Why not?” I joked. I went in back to grab the paint and boxed it up. “See ya tomorrow Gary.” I called as I walked through the shop.

“take the week off! Consider it a perk of employee of the month!” Gary called back. I laughed and waved over my shoulder. I headed over to the garage and nodded at the guys as I walked over to the office.

“ace!” I called, leaning against the door and looking over the shop.

“out back smoking!” Billy called back. “Remind me to cut your hair tomorrow. It’s getting a bit long!” I saluted him before heading out back.

“hey handsome.” I said, walking over to ace. He smirked at me as he leaned against the building. “Gary can see us so don’t do anything.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, smiling at me as I leaned against the wall next to him. “Get my note?”

“yeah but I didn’t read the whole thing.” I said. “Gary cut me once eyeball left. Gave me the rest of the week off.” Ace nodded.

“sounds nice.” He said. “Got any plans?” I shook my head.

“not unless you wanna head to the next town over…” I hinted. Ace smiled at me.

“Sounds like a plan.” Ace agreed. He put out his cigarette and we headed back in. “Thanks for bringing the paint over.” I nodded and ace sat down on the couch, ushering me over. I sat down next to him and he threw an arm over my shoulders. “Feels nice to just sit for a minute.”

“yeah it does.” I agreed. “Remind me to have Billy cut my hair tomorrow. He said it was getting long.” Ace nodded before leaning his head against mine.

“sounds good. We can head out before he does it.” Ace said. “I’ll talk to him.” We settled into a comfortable silence. Ace grabbed my legs and pulled them into his lap. I laughed and kissed him softly. “Been wanting to do that all day. It’s why I didn’t go over there.” I nodded and kissed him again. “Why don’t you read my note?” I pulled it out of my pocket and unfolded it.

“Or you could tell me what you said?” I bargained. Ace chuckled before nodded.

“Well first off, you look very nice today.” Ace said, kissing my cheek. “And I explained that I couldn’t go in today because I didn’t think I could stop myself. I don’t know how I’m holding back now.” Ace teased. I smiled at him and pulled him in for another kiss.

“you don’t need to anymore ace.” I whispered. “We’re in your office. In your garage. You can kiss me all you want.” Ace squeezed my waist as he kissed me deeply. He hummed as I cupped his cheeks.

“you need to shave soon.” I said as I pulled away. Ace laughed before running his hand over his jaw.

“probably.” He agreed. “Wouldn’t want to grow a beard.”

“I like the stubble. But a beard would be a bit much.” I agreed.

“hmmm.” Ace smirked at me. “That gives me an idea.”

“what idea?” I asked. Ace picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I laughed as I grabbed onto his shirt.

“you’ll see.” He laughed as he headed up to my apartment.

#Ace merrill #ace Merrill x reader #Ace Merrill fanfic #ace Merrill fanfiction #ace Merrill imagine #kiefer sutherland #kiefer sutherland imagine #kiefer Sutherland x reader #Kiefer sutherland fanfic #kiefer Sutherland fanfiction #ace of hearts #ace of hearts series

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luniviravosshipper · 4 months ago

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Okay, I can’t post any theories right now, but I’m seeing so many posts talking about the new information and images that have been released recently and what people are thinking will happen in season 7 based off them. And how specifically all these ideas and possibilities pertain to Rayla and Aaravos. And I just want to talk about some of my thoughts really quickly, because I am genuinely so curious about the idea of Aaravos and Rayla interacting with and impacting each other more this season.

I mean, I have a lot of complaints about how they handled Viren’s arc and the amount of potential they built up for him that ultimately didn’t culminate to anything. (You’re allowed to disagree with me, I’m still not ready to vocalize my exact thoughts on his writing this past season and, regardless, this post isn’t really about Viren anyways.) And one of the reasons for my overarching disappointment with the handling of his character was the fact that they hinted multiple times from the Through the Moon graphic novel to season 5 at a possible Rayla and Viren interaction or confrontation in the future, or at least more parallels/foils that we’d get to see between the two of them, that led nowhere.

But, now seeing everyone speculating about what’s been put out so far about this upcoming season finale… Seeing that there’s a chance we might see Aaravos and Rayla play more of an important role in each other’s lives this season, I can’t help but to anticipate what’s going to happen next between these two.

There’s just, so much potential.

Like, with the Rayla and Leola trials and themes of receiving judgement parallels, how Rayla and Claudia act as foils/parallels to each other, how Runaan and Aaravos act as parallels/foils to each other as parents, the whole theme of life and death that plays a big part in Aaravos and Rayla’s stories and in Moonshadow culture.

And, of course. The Rayla and Aaravos paralleled themes with “ripples” and what does justice mean and when is killing justified and can you take life without compromising your own moral character and at what point are you going too far to try to obtain justice that you are just repeating the cycles of the past and what’s the proper way to grieve someone who was unjustly taken away from you, etc., etc. (I honestly could write a whole essay between the numerous ways Rayla, Callum, Aaravos, and Viren all sort of parallel each other.)

Like, I’m legitimately so stoked to see what they decide to do with these two, if anything. And from the looks of it, there seems to be a lot more concrete evidence now to indicate that they will, unlike they ended up doing with Viren and Rayla.

Originally, I would have said the relationship dynamics I was most interested in seeing play out this upcoming season would be Aaravos and Terry and Aaravos and Janai. But now seeing that there might be a chance that Aaravos and Rayla’s arcs will intertwine, I might have to move them up to the top of my list.

#the dragon prince #tdp #tdp season 7 #tdp s7 #tdp s7 speculation #tdp speculation #aaravos #rayla #tdp rayla #rayla tdp #tdp aaravos #aaravos tdp #I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense #it’s rlly late at night where I’m from #I can’t think clearly rn #my typing is sort of off

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gotham-ruaidh · 1 year ago

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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 14B: Where Do We Go Now?

Soundtrack: “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Guns N’ Roses, 1987 [click here to listen]

Now and then when I see her face She takes me away to that special place And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry

- Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine” (1987)

Tucson || July 1988

It didn’t matter what Colum or the label or anyone else said – all recording studios looked the same on the inside.

Sure, there were always small differences. The really comfortable couches at Sound City in Los Angeles. Electric Lady in Manhattan still had the really cool paint scheme that Jimi Hendrix himself had designed. Muscle Shoals in Alabama oozed coolness.

But this studio, whose name he couldn’t and didn’t care to remember, nestled down a back street in Tuscon was…tired.

Almost as tired as Jamie.

The “quick three week tour” had stretched to eight weeks, with no end in sight. Theater shows had been upgraded to arenas. Playing to thousands and thousands of ecstatic fans. Pouring their hearts out night after night after night, and squeezing in radio promos and sound checks and business meetings during the day.

Fucking exhilarating.

Everybody wanted a piece of Print – their music, their story. Jamie still hadn’t granted too many interviews this tour, but the press ate up every word he said about sobriety and music and forgiveness. Insatiable for details about the woman he had met in rehab, and written all the new songs about, and refused to name publicly.

Print was making more money than they knew what to do with. The label had sprung for a private plane, and nobody in the band missed the rickety and smelly tour bus (except Claire, because it was still all so new to her, which Jamie added to the list of thousands of reasons why he loved her). Their hotel rooms were bigger. Catering in the dressing rooms was much nicer.

Fucking exhausting.

So many people wanted a piece of Jamie every day. Ian and Angus, to run through the new material that just kept pouring out of them. Colum, to talk ticket sales and adding second and third nights in each city. The suits from the label, who kept finding them in Dallas and Kansas City and Detroit, slapping Jamie’s back and pushing terrible ideas for duets with pop stars or contributing to a movie soundtrack or pleading to do the acoustic set in a special for MTV.

And on top of that, some dirtbag reporter from the National Enquirer had figured out who Claire was, somehow got a hold of her personnel file from the hospital, and tracked down her shitty ex-husband for an exclusive interview. Splashed her life all over the tabloids, complete with very grainy photographs of the she and Jamie together, holding hands, on a rare day off in Nashville when he took her to a few honky-tonks. The one saving grace was that thankfully, nobody at The Ridge had said a word about anything about her time there, or the time they shared together.

Claire took it all in stride. She always understood. Holding him in the bathtub of their suite in Denver as he shook from another panic attack. Smiling over a three AM hamburger at a diner in Topeka. Whimpering as he came off stage in Atlanta, sweaty and keyed up from singing about her, hoisting her in his arms for a long kiss against the lighting equipment at side stage, heart stuttering to see his eye makeup smudged against her cheeks.

The man he was on the last tour – unhappy, unfulfilled, so deep in an addition he didn’t care to acknowledge – would not recognize the man he’d become on this tour.

“In ’86, we played seventy eight dates. We had a number one record. I bought my house, and my motorcycle, and my car.” Quietly he sipped coffee in their suite in Seattle, watching the city wake up, running his thumb over Claire’s shoulder as she settled against him in front of the window.

“You had everything you had always dreamed of.”

He snorted. “I was a mess. All I could think about during every show was how to find a girl or a bottle or a baggie as quickly as possible. And the crew would always do that for me.”

The crew respected his – and Claire’s – request for no drugs or alcohol backstage this tour. What the techs and roadies and production crew did on their own time, in their own hotel rooms, with whoever they wanted to – Jamie didn’t care. But for everyone to help with, to respect, his sobriety was a gift. And he never stopped saying thank you.

“If only those reporters could see you now – Jamie Fraser swaggering off stage for an Evian.”

He smiled. “And to kiss this beautiful doctor who for some reason keeps following him around. Because he loves her, more than any man has ever loved any woman.”

He wanted to provide for her. To shelter and protect her. To never leave her side ever again.

She didn’t need him to do any of that, of course. They’d talked about it many times. But she wanted him to do that. And the fact that she chose him, kept choosing him…that was why they kept going. Kept each other sober. Kept holding each other up.

They’d agreed that this time on tour was for her to understand this part of him – and to help both of them decide how and where they would live once the tour was done.

Which is why the radio silence from Boston, four weeks after mailing the letter from Philadelphia asking, politely, just what the hell was going on…was so fucking crushing.

The stress of that – and the grind of touring – did make it just a bit more difficult every day.

Thankfully Colum had scheduled a week-long break at the end of the month. Angus was already planning a trip to Aruba with the two groupies, who truth be told had grown on the rest of the band. Ian was planning to spend the week with his wife, Jamie’s sister Jenny, and their kids.

And Jamie and Claire – well, they’d be getting married.

Only a few people knew, with good reason. Ian and Jenny, of course. Alec and Faith, in New York. Colum. Dougal MacKenzie and his wife Gillian, who had helped both Jamie and Claire so much at The Ridge. Uncle Lamb, who would officiate. And Claire’s friends Joe and Gail Abernathy, who had quite literally saved her life by getting her to The Ridge in the first place.

The service would be simple. Exactly what they wanted – what they needed.

And after that…well. They would truly be husband and wife.

But there was a lot to do – a lot to take care of – between now and then. Not the least of which was, wrapping up this recording session.

The time laying down acoustic tracks in Philadelphia last month was very well spent. They weren't so rusty. But the guys were eager to hear the songs in electric form. And since they were in Tucson, and Colum knew Bobby Higgins – who not only owned this studio, but who had also produced that really killer Ratt album in ’84…

“OK, Jamie.”

Jamie took a deep breath, and looked up through the glass at Bobby, hunched over the console in the control room.

“Ready for take two?”

Jamie looked left, to Angus – and right, to Ian.

“Yup.”

“OK – this is In My Veins, take two.”

Jamie grit his teeth.

Caught Claire’s eye in the control room.

She smiled.

He relaxed.

Angus counted in on his drumsticks, and then started the heavy beat like they’d discussed.

Four bars – and Jamie’s guitar and Ian’s bass joined in.

“That was really, really great, Jamie.”

Claire handed him a new bottle of water, cap already twisted off. He drank it in four deep gulps.

“I know you’re not shitting me. So thank you.”

Quickly she looked over her shoulder – Angus’ cheeks were being loudly kissed by the groupies, and Ian played around with his bass, and Colum and Bobby were deep in conversation in the control room.

“Where are you?”

She had pulled him away before, when the panic attacks were coming, and he knew she’d do it again right now if needed.

He wiped his mouth with the back of a sweaty hand. “About an eight out of ten.”

“Do you need a break?”

He met her eyes. “I need a meeting. Been thinking about my old friend Jack Daniels all day.”

“Did you see something?”

He sighed. “I’ve only played electric a handful of times since I got back from The Ridge.” He looked down at the gorgeous Stratocaster strapped across his chest, fist flexing. “I got this guitar because the black tone and white trim matched the label on the bottle. Stupid, I know. But it’s all I could think about today.”

“Not stupid. We’ll deal with it. You should call Alec. And I can find you a meeting.”

He leaned in, and kissed her forehead. “I love you. I’ll call him. And I need to sell this guitar.”

She nodded. “We’ll find a charity.”

He kissed her again. “I love you.”

She kissed him quickly, and returned to the control room.

Grateful that Jamie had turned away to talk to the guys, when Colum tapped her on the shoulder, and slid over an envelope postmarked Boston.

“Mail call. Do I want to know?”

She shook her head, folded the letter, and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Is there a Yellow Pages I can borrow?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #little bit better than i used to be

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thenightshadowqueen · 3 months ago

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Hi...If you don't mind, can I ask, who are your top 7 (or top 5) favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon) and your top 10 favorite characters ever from any media? Why do you love them all? Thanks if you want to answer....

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask! I love making lists, so I’m going to have a great time with this.

(Also I’m not sure if characters from Shoot from the Hip videos (improvised comedy group, if you haven’t heard of them) fall under the categories you laid out for the ships, but I decided to include them; I hope that’s all right! If you want me to redo the list without them, let me know.)

Ships

7. Bubbamiah (Bubba x Jeremiah, Inside the Mysterious Cube (Shoot from the Hip), canon)

They have such a wholesome relationship. They’re gay farmers (funny that SFTH has done that twice) from the southern US, and they’re just so genuinely happy together. Also their story is so gorgeous? I love that they fight side by side—Bubba got cube legs just to follow Jeremiah onto the battlefield, and I assume that was something he hadn’t really wanted to do (because he’d have done it sooner if he wanted to). But he did it anyway so that Jeremiah wouldn’t be alone. And then Jeremiah dies (in what is genuinely one of the most beautiful death scenes I’ve ever witnessed), and Bubba’s response is to get revenge, because he knows that’s what Jeremiah would want. And then Jeremiah comes back, and I’m so glad he does, because they deserve to go back to living their comfortable, peaceful lives on the farm.

6. Ditch (Derek x Titch, the Unrelenting Aubergine (Shoot from the Hip), canon)

Oh, look, the other gay farmers from a SFTH play. Who would have guessed? Okay, but seriously, these two are so fucking adorable. Derek is so helplessly in love. Honestly, despite the clear sexual intent of the title, they are so wholesome. Also: Titch, my beloved. He’s so scared of his own feelings, and Derek is perfect for him, too, because he knows when to give Titch space and when to push him to make a decision. They just have such a beautiful story.

5. Hornchurch (Andrews x Betruvia, the Phantom of Hornchurch (Shoot from the Hip), headcanon)

Look. Look. They have everything I look for in a couple. They remind me so much of Evervale, so it’s honestly no surprise I gravitated toward them. The thing is, no matter how much I love more wholesome ships, tragic and toxic ships have always been and will always be my favourite. And they definitely fall insert both categories. They’ve spent millennia reincarnating just to fight each other, and that, if you ask me, is very gay.

4. Esmerelda x the vampire slayer (the thirsty vampires sketch (Shoot from the Hip), canon)

Honestly I’m not even sure I can talk about them because I just want to scream. They had so much fucking chemistry, for a start, and I loved their characters individually. But together? I just. I just. Also, the fucking ending… I loved it before. But the ending just solidified it. Because, as previously stated, I love tragic or toxic ships. And so here we are. (Also is there a ship name for them? Because I need one.)

3. Castlelair (Alastair Lowe x Gavin Grieve, All of Us Villains and All of Our Demise by Amanda Foody and C. L. Herman, canon)

Okay so. So. Um. I’m unsure of how to express my love for them, because holy shit. This is enemies to lovers done right. I remember reading the first book and thinking that they had chemistry, but I didn’t think anything would come of it, because Alastair was with Isobel. And then I read the second book, and I screamed. They’re so perfect? I have so many annotations just screaming incoherently about them (honestly calling them annotations is a bit of a stretch). I love how they’re opposites of each other from the beginning, and yet so fucking similar deep down. Also, I love how obsessed Gavin was with him from the beginning, especially when compared to the fact that Alastair literally never bothered to learn his name at the beginning. Also (and this is probably bad), I love it when my ships torture someone else together. I don’t know what it is, but something about it compels me like nothing else (again, in FICTION). So that is quite the bonus for them. I could genuinely write a whole wall of text about them (albeit not a very coherent one), but I’ll leave it for now.

2. Evervale (Eli Ever x Victor Vale, Vicious and Vengeful by V. E. Schwab, headcanon)

Evervale is kind of what I look for when I’m looking for ships. They have so much history, which is probably the thing I love the most in ships. I wrote two posts a bit ago about all of the things I love about them, so I think this bit will probably just be a shorter version of that, but here goes. They are the only people who have ever understood each other, and they are the only people who ever will. They mean so much to each other, even ten years after everything went down. And even though they hate each other, they still care so much about what the other one thinks. They’re so fundamentally similar but different in such key ways, and I love them so much, and I think I’m going to cut myself off here, because I already did two posts about this.

1. Merthur (Arthur Pendragon x Merlin, BBC Merlin, headcanon)

It was never going to be anyone else. They’re a classic, and there’s a reason for that. The tragedy of it is a big part of what draws me to it—Merlin is left wandering the world, alone, forever, without his other half. But there’s also—and I think I made a post about this, too—the element of unbalanced dedication. Merlin loves Arthur so deeply that he rewrites his entire moral code, crosses all of his lines (“Who says my destiny has to include murder?”), literally gives his entire life trying to keep Arthur safe. And Arthur has no idea. And that, more than anything else, is the thing that makes this ship for me. (I told you I liked the darker relationship dynamics.) Obviously, there are also a million other reasons why I ship them—the way they talk to each other, the fucking looks—but I think that the the reason I love them as much as I do comes down to the dedication and the tragedy.

Characters

10. June (Vengeful by V. E. Schwab)

I’m genuinely so intrigued by her. I don’t have that much to say about her, to be honest, because we don’t have a lot of information on her, but I just really like her. She’s so interesting, and I really want to learn more about her; I hope we get more of her backstory in Victorious.

9. Merlin (BBC Merlin)

Honestly, he goes through so much. He deserved so much better, but truthfully, his pain is part of why I love him so much. The thing is, I don’t often find myself liking main characters, because I find “good people” to be irritating (in fiction, obviously). But Merlin intrigues me, because he starts with such a strong moral code, but he ends up sacrificing all of that for Arthur’s sake. And that? That kind of character progression fascinates me.

8. Juliet Caesar (Caesar and Juliet (Shoot from the Hip))

I love murderous women, okay? She’s insane, and I love her for it. Her line about women getting corrupted by power just like men was iconic. Also, I’m just so interested as to her character development. Because of the time-skip, we go from her being fourteen and a pretty innocent, sweet girl—albeit with a definite hint of desire for power—to her fifteen years later, as a full-grown woman, murdering people and running the entire country. And I just really want to see those fifteen years. (Obviously they didn’t have time in the play; this isn’t a criticism of that.) But yeah, she really interests me.

7. Arthur Pendragon (BBC Merlin)

The first time I saw Arthur Pendragon on a screen, I was twelve years old, and he was a dick. And the first words out of my mouth were, “He’s going to be my favourite.” And he hasn’t let me down. Arthur is a flawed character—which I actually really appreciate, especially since a lot of Arthurian stories portray him as the pinnacle of chivalry—but he has a good heart and a lot of trauma. And I think he’s such a fascinating character, especially looking at the way his dad fucked him up. He made a lot of mistakes through the course of show, but he’s always genuinely trying to do what’s best for his people.

6. The vampire slayer (the thirsty vampires sketch (Shoot from the Hip))

She deserves a name. (I’ve seen a few fanon ones floating around, but I wasn’t sure which one to use.) She’s amazing. She’s so clever, with the way she infiltrated Ybbob and Esmeralda’s home, and with her seduction of Esmeralda. Also, I’m very much here for her very open interest in both of the vampires. (You could argue that that was for show, but I like to think that that’s just what she told herself, and it was actually fuelled by genuine desire. But that’s just a headcanon.) (Also Sam played her really hot—)

5. Gwaine (BBC Merlin)

Okay so. First, to get the obvious out of the way: who the fuck let him look like that? He’s both pretty and hot, and that shouldn’t be allowed. For the record, that is not the only reason I like him. Honestly, the main reason I like him is because he’s a sassy little shit, and that’s my favourite character archetype. He has absolutely no regard for status, and he has chemistry with fucking everybody, and he’s honestly just a queer icon. (Out of the MANY queer-coded characters in BBC Merlin, he is one of the few I genuinely physically cannot picture being straight.)

4. Gavin Grieve (All of Us Villains and All of Our Demise by Amanda Foody and C. L. Herman)

Gavin. Gavin. I think the reason I adore him so much—or, at least, the biggest reason, because I have a lot—is because of just how far he’s willing to go. That’s what I look for in a character. He knows what he wants—to survive—and he will do anything to get it. He mutilates himself. He kidnaps someone. He tortured two separate men. He will do anything, and I admire that. He took his fucked-up family and childhood, and he decided that he was going to prove them all wrong. And he did, and I’m so proud of him.

3. Victor Vale (Vicious and Vengeful by V. E. Schwab)

There are very few characters I relate to as deeply as I relate to Victor Vale. (Which, knowing the things he’s done, is quite concerning, actually.) The way he talks about something being “missing” from himself, more after he became an EO but before that, too, but not feeling like that’s necessarily a bad thing, is both fascinating and deeply relatable. Also, there’s one scene that has stuck with me since I first read it: Victor in the hotel the night they rescue Sydney, feeling that bone-deep restlessness. That is the first and only time I’ve ever seen that feeling—which I also experience (it genuinely feels like torture)—adequately described. I love Victor for a lot of reasons; he’s pragmatic, and he’s quite ambivalent about morals, and he’s totally obsessed with and locked in on Eli. But every reason I give just comes back to how much I see myself in him.

2. Alastair Lowe (All of Us Villains and All of Our Demise by Amanda Foody and C. L. Herman)

Alastair Lowe is my baby. Honestly, his family fucked him up so badly, even worse than the other families—and that’s saying something. His obsession with being a villain is beautiful, and I really love seeing how his relationship to villainy and being a monster evolves through the books. He starts out so sure of himself, and then, after Hendry’s death, he’s so unsure, and then he decides that he wants to become a better person. And then, when Hendry comes back, he backslides so gorgeously. Honestly, he is one of the best characters I’ve ever read. He’s so angry, and he’s so sad, and he’s so hurt, and he doesn’t even know it.

1. Morgana Pendragon (BBC Merlin)

I said that I love insane women, and I meant it. I love insane women. Honestly, her character arc was so beautiful. (It could have been better executed, but overall, I still really liked it.) She was my favourite character from the first episode, and that has not changed since I was twelve years old. Good Morgana is my favourite. So is evil Morgana. (Also, this isn’t why I love her, but why the fuck is she allowed to be that gorgeous? It is deeply unfair to me as a queer person.) I genuinely don’t know what to say, because I don’t think I can offer any kind of intelligent insight into why I love her. I just love her.

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dutchvanwinkle · 2 years ago

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 10 - Dutch x Reader

This is it, angels! The last chapter of the Mr Van der Linde mini-fic. This has been an absolute joy to write, thank you for allowing me to indulge in my fantasy and for being the most wonderful group of enablers a writer could ever ask for. The response to this story has been much more than I expected, and I’ve had the best time sharing it with you. Thank you endlessly for your support and hype <3

It's on ao3, if you'd rather read there!

Summary: You deal with the consequences of your actions.

Word count: 9,037

Content warnings: smoking, drug use

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You’d blocked Dutch’s number. It was the only thing left to do.

It was the first action you took upon getting on that train. You knew that if you heard his voice or read a single word from him, you’d cave.

The level of agony you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Your heart was broken, so much so that you were surprised the thing was still able to beat. All of a sudden, two of the most important people in your life were strangers. The man you loved, and your best friend.

God, you missed them.

You missed John’s laugh down the phone, or the way his eyes grew heavy after he’d had one too many drinks. You missed the way he’d snuggle into you while hungover or come and see you just so you could sit in a comfortable silence together. He was about to become a father, and there you went piling more stress onto his already heavy load.

It didn’t bear thinking about how much you missed Dutch. It was too painful to even list the things you loved the most about him, that you knew you’d never get to experience again.

It was a miracle that your other friends were still speaking to you. The boys had been quiet, siding more so with John but not quite willing to cut you out completely. The girls still got in touch with you regularly, and you weren’t sure what you’d do with yourself if they didn’t.

Abigail updated you on her pregnancy over the next few weeks, and it was like a knife to the chest at the realisation that you wouldn’t even be able to meet her baby, at least not for a long time.

She and Karen had been distraught when you announced the news that you weren’t going to attend graduation, but you’d thought it through for long enough. Everyone would be there, family members included. You daren’t even think about how awkward the whole affair would be. Not going was the most sensible thing you could do, and being sensible was at the top of your current list of priorities.

You’d received a call a week after the party from the job you interviewed for and were offered a place. Without the ability to share the news with those you wanted to hear it most, it’d only made you more depressed.

It’d taken you a few days to type out the message to John. You started off by saying you were only going to try getting in touch with him this once since you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for his forgiveness; you knew it wasn’t something you deserved. Then, you’d explained how it happened. Sparing him the details, of course, you ran through the timeline of your and Dutch's relationship and gave him the full truth. It felt false and cliché when you started talking about how you hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it was true. To a point. You’d finished off by saying that you would always be there for him, should he ever decide he wanted to interact with you again. Then you clarified that you’d never expect him to and offered him one final apology.

He’d read it not long after, and you were already prepared for him not to reply, so it wasn’t too much of a bluster when it went unanswered. There was a small, naïve part of you that clung to the possibility that he could, though.

Graduation was one week away. You wanted it over with, even though you weren’t going, and had planned to take a social media break while everyone posted their smiling photos with relatives and friends.

Curled up in bed, hiding from the world under your duvet was your most recent pastime as of late, you huffed and shut the book you weren’t able to read. Ever since that day at the Van der Linde’s, you had an awful tension headache that wouldn’t shift no matter what you did. So instead, you shut your eyes, hoping you’d fall into a nap to pass the time.

After a few minutes, your phone began vibrating and with a tired grunt, you leaned over, becoming instantly more alert at the name that was on your screen.

John.

You held the phone in your hands like it would explode if you moved it too harshly, staring at the screen until the call rang out and the vibrating stopped.

It had to have been an accident. You didn’t want to deal with the awkward scenario of picking up, to be faced with a spluttering John explaining it was a mistake. Then your phone buzzed again, this time with a message.

Call me when you’re free.

It was the longest you’d gone without breathing, your body forgetting its most basic survival instinct and going into complete shock. He was finally ready to yell at you, to call you all the names under the sun and explain how badly he wished he’d never met you. You wanted to throw the whole phone away, but he deserved the chance to have a go at you if it’s what he wanted, and you took a deep breath before pressing the call button by his name.

Time had never moved as slowly as it had during the three rings that elapsed before they stopped, and then John spoke through the phone.

“Hey.”

Hearing his voice was enough to make you tear up, but you cleared your throat and willing yourself to remain steady. “Hi.”

John sighed, and you could only imagine how nauseating it was for him to have to interact with you. “Abigail said you’re not coming to graduation.”

“No, I’m not.”

He sighed again, finding his words. “That don’t seem fair.”

Your eyebrows pulled together, unable to make sense of where this conversation was going. “I don’t reckon I deserve fair,” you said, immediately hearing how self-pitying you sounded. “It’s fine, I don’t want to go anyway.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter.” After a beat of silence, your emotions got the better of you. “John, I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t.” He was stern but softened his voice for his next sentence. “I know we need to talk, but not like this.”

Unsure what to say, you decided to allow John some room to speak further.

“Come to graduation. We’re all staying at the house the night before,” you knew that already, just because you didn’t respond in the group chat didn’t mean you weren’t reading the messages, “before we have to pack up and leave.”

The mere thought of being there with everyone, seeing them all with their families and then seeing Dutch too was enough to send your brain into overdrive. “I can’t.”

“It won’t be the same without you.”

You pressed your lips together, hoping to keep your composure just a little while longer. “John, I’m confused. Aren’t you mad at me? Don’t you hate me?”

“Yes. Mad at you, I mean. I don’t hate you though. Trust me, I tried to,” he sounded reluctant to admit to it. “I’ve had time to think. And I know I’ll regret it if I know I didn’t at least try to get you to come.”

“You know, I think I’d prefer it if you yelled at me.”

John laughed mirthlessly. “Part of me wants to, but... it won’t do no good.”

The silence hung between you, and despite all the things you wanted to say to him, you couldn’t find a single word.

“Look,” he began. “You still mean a lot to me. You worked hard on this degree and truthfully... I wouldn’t have got mine if it weren’t for you. I want you there with me.”

You choked, because you didn’t deserve him being so kind and he repeated your name for you to just nod, even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Sorry,” you whispered, and while it was an apology for your lack of response, you used it as a chance to let out some of the apology hoard you had stored up.

“Just come, alright? You can leave early if you want. Besides, the others want to see you too.”

After a shaky breath, you decided it was worth a shot. Even if you went to the house the night before and didn’t attend the ceremony, it was worth a try. You said you’d try to rectify it if you could, and this could be the chance to take the first few steps towards that goal. “Alright. I’ll come.”

Some of the tension dissipated through the phone, and you waited for John’s response. “Okay. See you next week.”

Then he hung up.

After the call ended, your phone navigated to the most recently used app, and you were met with your recent search history, mainly along the lines of can a person run out of tears and is anyone close to inventing time travel yet.

Had that just happened? You checked the call logs to confirm that yes, it had. John had called you. He hadn’t yelled at you. He hadn’t so much as berated you. He said you meant a lot to him. He said he wanted to talk to you and see you at graduation.

Holy shit. Your apprehension about not going was immeasurable compared with your apprehension about actually going.

The entire train journey back to university had been spent with you fidgeting, your mind going a million miles an hour at the prospect of what you were about to face. Karen and Abigail were overjoyed you’d agreed to come, and you had a sneaky suspicion Abigail had played a part in convincing John to get in touch with you, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

Instead of taking a bus to your rented house like you usually would, you decided to take the walk to stretch your legs, get some fresh air, and prepare yourself for whatever greeted you when you got there.

But when you did, it still wasn’t enough time. Panic seeped into your veins and your breaths grew short, so you took a seat on the half-wall that acted as a border around your poor excuse for a front garden. No matter what, you couldn’t still your hands, and reluctantly pulled a cigarette out of the pack that resided in your pocket. You lit it, and once you were halfway done, you heard the front door open behind you.

You daren’t look around, not wanting to face whoever had caught you wallowing in your guilt.

But the door clicked shut, and footsteps down the front path preluded John taking a seat beside you.

“I thought you only smoked casually.”

“It helps,” you flicked the ash away, not meeting John’s face. “A little.”

“I see.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor with not a single clue on how to have this conversation.

“How long you plan on sitting out here?” John asked.

“Not sure,” you mumbled.

“You know you can’t stay here forever.”

After a short nod, you plucked up the courage to shift your gaze from the floor and to John. Your dismal state must’ve shown on your face, as he looked at you pitifully. “It's so fucked up,” you began, the tension needling under your skin. “I know it is, I’m so sorry. Sorrier than I know how to express.”

“I believe you.”

Why must he be so calm? Where was the John you knew, the one who’d pick a fight at the first opportunity – the one who’d slammed the door open when he’d caught you in the act? “Just yell at me or something, please. I can’t take it.”

“Don’t rightly think I can, you looking all forlorn as you are,” he hummed, drumming his fingertips on the wall.

Your face was already a permanent frown, but you felt it deepen. All you wanted to do was cry, even if that was the only thing you’d done over the past few weeks. It seemed a person couldn’t run out of tears, after all.

John edged closer, and you immediately shook your head. “No, don’t comfort me, I don’t deserve it.”

“You always do beat yourself up over stuff,” he scoffed gently.

“No, John. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“You don’t gotta keep saying that.”

“I don’t know what else I can say.”

He let out a short breath, stretching his neck out. “I do have one question for you.”

Your nod in response was almost eager, willing to answer anything he asked.

“Would you take it back if you could?

“I –” you stopped to take a breath. “Yeah, of course.”

“Funny.”

“Why funny?”

“Dad said he wouldn’t. And he said that’s what he was the sorriest about, that he’d do it all again given the chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say, your heart clutching to hear such a thing but not wanting to show it on your face. You’d wondered how he’d taken the whole thing, the urge to ask Abigail had been strong but you knew you wouldn’t have been able to bear the answer either way. It didn't bear thinking about how much you missed him.

“I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“More of a clarification.”

“Okay.”

“You really are in love with each other, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, shaking your head to look at your lap but you weren’t saying no, and John knew that. “It’s... I...” you sighed, having no more lies left in you. You met John’s concerned gaze.

“It's okay,” he reassured stiffly.

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about it is okay. You mean the world to me,” you pressed your lips together to stop them from quivering as tears gathered in your eyes once more. “None of it matters now,” you added dejectedly.

John shifted beside you, finally taking his gaze away and instead planting it somewhere ahead of him. “I think it does.”

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly.

“He’s been... Well, he’s not been good. He’s sorry, to me, but mainly he’s... Heartbroken, I guess. He’s been so happy recently, we’ve all noticed it, and now he’s just... Not.”

It pained you to hear how hurt he was. Knowing you were the cause of his pain, denying him even a single word turned your stomach even more. “Oh, I’m... Sorry.”

John sighed. “I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy. That’s what means the most to me.”

“I’m sure we’ll both be fine, eventually. Like I said, it’s not important how either of us feel. We did an awful fucking thing, and I guess we both deserve to feel like shit.”

“That’s just it,” John paused as you stubbed out your cig with your foot, “maybe being happy is what you deserve.”

You glanced at him, trepidation and anxiety set into his features. He looked so much older, somehow.

“I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you. Certainly ain’t forgiven him. I’m not saying I’m your biggest fan right now, either. But I just need a bit of time to get used to it. It ain’t worth losing you,” he said pointedly. “You know what my momma said to me, before she passed?” John seldom spoke of his mother, and your ears perked up at the privilege of being his audience. “She said one day, he was gonna love someone again. Said she knew it was hard to hear, hard to imagine him moving on, but that he wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t have someone to love. He loves love. Just the way he is. She also said it’d take him a good long while, and it did – I ain’t never seen him in a relationship since her. In her eyes, that meant that when he finally did move on, it would be with someone I could trust. She told me when the time came, to trust him. And to trust that the person he chose would be someone who cared for me, someone I could rely on.”

Your eyes were brimming by that point, but you didn’t want to do him the disservice of looking away while he was being so raw.

“She was right,” John shrugged.

“You really look at what I’ve done,” you said hoarsely, fighting away a sob, “as the action of someone who cares for you? John, if I cared about you I would never have even let the thought cross my mind.”

“Alright,” he nodded, a challenge, “what about everything else you’ve done in the last few years?”

You blinked at him.

“What about when you set me up with Abigail? What about when you convinced me to carry on at uni, even though I wanted to drop out? What about all the times you’ve looked after me when I was too drunk to see? What about all those deep chats we had late at night? What about when Abigail said she was keeping the baby, and you stayed up with me half the night until I finally slept?”

You didn’t have a response for him.

“I can’t forget all of that,” he said evenly, “even if right now I am mad at you. I know you, I know that you didn’t intend to hurt me with any of this.”

“When did you get so grown up?” your face scrunched, John’s words a soothing balm over your open wounds.

“Can’t expect my kid to turn out alright if I’m still acting like one.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m not saying it won’t be weird, but... I can learn to deal with it.”

You looked at him with mild incredulity, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Again, your eyes filled up and you couldn’t stop the tears, holding your fingertips under your eyes to catch them.

John shuffled closer once again and hesitated, but then put his arm around your shoulders, and you didn’t have it in you to resist nestling into his embrace. “Goddamnit woman,” he scoffed, his voice lighter and more familiar, “will you quit crying already?”

“Can’t help it,” you sniffed.

John rested his head on top of yours and you squeezed your eyes shut, wondering what you did to deserve such a wonderful friend.

After a time, when your tears had dried and your breathing regulated, the two of you ventured inside and were greeted with the sight of your four other friends lazing around in the living room.

You looked at them sheepishly, but they smiled in response, seemingly relieved to see you and John on the way to being on good terms.

At first, it was uncomfortable. The situation was somewhat of an elephant in the room, but it didn’t seem like anyone was up for bringing up the topic. These were your final days altogether, the last remaining part of your lives that made you students. After this, while you’d remain friends, you’d never be living together all under the same roof again. You didn’t need another excuse to cry, so you didn’t spend any more time chasing that train of thought.

Eventually, the conversation flowed easier, and it was almost like you were existing in a time months ago, where you hadn’t made any terrible choices and your friends hadn’t found out about them.

“Still can’t believe we’re meeting your infamous da,” Abigail mocked Sean, who grinned back at her.

“Oh, he’s excited to meet the lot of you, too. I assured him you weren’t all a pompous bunch.”

“My dad’s coming too. Hey,” Javier pointed at you, “make sure you don’t fuck him.”

You glared at Javier, but at the snorts of laughter around the room you couldn’t help but break into a reluctantly amused smirk. “I have no intention of doing such a thing.”

“Did you have the intention to fuck Mr Van der Linde?”

“Can we not.”

Thankfully, even John was laughing, and while you thought the subject was still too tender to poke fun at, you agreed that this may be the easy way of getting it out in the open.

“Hey,” John said, “part of the deal with you fucking my dad is that we’re allowed to tease you for it.”

You shrunk into your seat. “I was not aware of that condition.”

“No? Would you like my permission to be revoked?”

You huffed, thoroughly left without a leg to stand on. “No. Fine.”

Denying John the right to hold this over you, likely for the rest of your life, wasn’t something you could do. If he had to pick on you and tease you, then you’d allow it, so long as it meant the two of you could remain friends.

The six of you settled into a familiar rhythm, laughing and joking until you were all too tired to continue.

When morning came around and you and the girls began getting ready together, your heart tugged at just how much you valued your sisterhood with them. Despite it all, they’d remained your friends, checked up on you, and attempted to provide a sense of normalcy in your life.

“Are you nervous?” Abigail spoke into the concentrated silence, all three of you working on your makeup.

You glanced in your propped-up mirror to see her reflection behind you, awaiting a response. “I assume you’re not talking about walking across the stage.”

She shook her head in the negative. Given the past few weeks, you’d had enough practice banishing thoughts of Dutch from your mind that you’d grown rather good at it. That had included today, where you’d disallowed yourself to picture the ways your reunion could play out.

“I suppose I am a little.”

“Surely you’re excited, though?” Karen added on, sounding rather excited herself.

“Why would I be?”

“Well,” she drawled, “you clearly love the man. Ain’t there a part of you eager to be all lovey-dovey with him again?”

You turned to frown at her face-on, instead of through the reflection in your mirror. “What? No - I’m not going to carry on seeing him.”

They observed you, puzzled, and Abigail decided on a response. “But I thought that was what you agreed on, with John?”

“He said he’d find a way to deal with it. He shouldn’t have to do that,” you turned back to your mirror and continued preening. “I’m not going to start things up with Dutch again,” you lamented.

They didn’t question it, but you could feel their confusion in the air. You couldn’t blame them. They decided not to probe the subject further.

Sure, John had said he’d deal with it. He’d said he wanted you both to be happy. But before all that, you vowed to yourself that you’d do anything to have a friendship with him, and would you really be true to your word if you actively extended his discomfort?

John’s blessing had been music to your ears at first. But being so forgiving was easier said than done – who's to say he wouldn’t grow to resent you, the damage to your friendship being irreparable? It wasn’t a risk you could take.

Thankfully, the ceremony was the first thing on the agenda that day. There were no awkward encounters to be had, and you got to walk across the stage without falling over and receive your degree in relative peace. Again, you’d actively pushed the prospect of seeing Dutch again out of your mind until you were forced to deal with it in real-time.

But once the ceremony was finished, it was time for everyone to socialise in the sunny courtyard while the graduates took photos with their family and friends, leaving nowhere left for you to hide. Unless...

Thanks to your newfound habit, you excused yourself once the six of you had taken a group picture, proof that you had in fact been there, and had at least waited a few minutes before running away.

There was a quiet alley round the side of the main building, the wall of which you leaned up against and brought your newly lit cigarette to your lips. It was nice to decompress, and with all that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours alone, it was nice to have some peace.

You took your time, eventually lighting a second cigarette and deciding this would not be a healthy habit to keep up.

“When did you start smoking?”

That cigarette was nearly choked into your mouth at the baritone of Dutch’s voice, one you hadn’t heard in a longer while than you cared to admit.

You had to face him at some point, you supposed. At least this wasn’t in front of a whole group of people.

Slowly, you turned, the man himself coming into view. His hands were casually in his pockets, and as always, his suit was immaculate, and hair perfectly styled. There was one noticeable difference though; he looked tired.

“Gives me an excuse to escape. Plus,” you shunted the cigarette up a bit, “I miss the taste.” You looked at his lips, the hundreds of drunken kisses the two of you had shared that always had an underlying hint of tobacco. Dutch brushed his fingertips over your hand, and you pulled away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Please, I can’t.”

“Didn’t John speak to you?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not okay with it, regardless of what he says.”

Dutch’s shoulders dropped, and he leaned on the wall opposite you. His gaze was fixed on you, and you eventually met it.

The two of you looked at each other for a short while, and it was like you could read his mind, and tell him what you were thinking and feeling without saying a single word.

You missed him, you were sorry, he missed you, he was sorry.

More than anything, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and never let go, kiss him until your lips ached, and make a home in the crook of his neck.

“You blocked my number.” It wasn’t a question.

“I had to,” you took a drag and rolled the cigarette between your fingers once you’d dropped your hand back by your side.

“Did you really? You couldn’t have at least said goodbye – after all we’ve been through?”

“Don’t make me feel bad,” your tone came out angered, and you swiftly reeled yourself in. “I couldn’t feel any worse about the whole thing if I tried. There was no other choice, not if I wanted a chance at earning back John’s friendship.”

“The way I hear it, the two of you are already getting on.”

“He’s being kind. Kinder than I deserve and we’re a long way off repairing our friendship.”

Dutch nodded, and it hurt to see the pain that’d made camp on his face.

“How are things with the two of you?”

“Long way off,” he echoed. “He didn’t speak to me for a while, but he’s starting to be civil. I’m surprised by him, truth be told.”

“Why?”

“He’s been real grown up about it all,” his lips twitched with an unmitigated fondness, “we talked it all out, and he actually listened to my side of it. That’s two of my boys out-manning me, now.”

“Is Arthur okay?” you asked at the mention of him.

“Yeah,” he said noncommittally, “not happy with me either, but can’t say I blame him. Especially not after the Molly business.”

“I did try telling him you weren’t to blame.”

“I know.” The look he gave you was grateful, and you couldn’t only imagine the grief he’d received from the two men.

It was surreal to see him standing there. You wondered if you’d even remember this conversation in a week's time, or whether it’d be some lucid recollection you wouldn’t be able to pick out words from.

“Did you hear back about that interview?”

You nodded. “They offered me a job.”

Despite his saddened expression, a glint of pride broke its way through. “Congrats. You’ll do well there, should you decide to take it.”

“Thanks.” It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d pictured in your mind before all this nasty business, instead, it’d be Dutch pulling you into a boisterous embrace and immediately coming up with a schedule to ensure the two of you saw each other regularly enough.

His pained eyes glanced down your form and made their way back up to your face. The crease between his brows was permanently etched there now, it seemed.

“I’m sorry they found out that way,” he said.

“Me too. I don’t blame you for it.”

“Please,” he took a hesitant step towards you. “Reconsider. Is it not worth us trying, at least? John’s okay with it -”

“He is not. He’s only saying that because he feels obliged.”

“That’s not true, he came to me to talk about it, said he wants us to be together -”

“Do you not hear how insane that sounds? Why would he want his father and b- friend to be in a relationship?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” John’s voice broke into your conversation as he strolled over to the pair of you, “but my ears were burning.”

You both just looked at him, simmering back into your own spaces – it wasn’t a conscious decision to edge closer to Dutch.

“You’re arguing,” he observed.

“I -” you sighed, itching your brow, and abandoned your unformed sentence in favour of another drag from your cigarette.

“This is meant to be a happy day,” Dutch said guiltily.

“No, I know. I think I should go –”

“No,” John put a hand on each of your shoulders, stopping you from walking away from the situation. “Look, I’ll be honest, I’m tired of him moping,” he gestured his head towards his father.

Dutch slipped the cigarette from between your fingers and brought it to his mouth for a long drag. It was like static where his skin had brushed against yours, and your eyes lingered on his lips as he took a drag. He went to hand it back to you, but you shook your head.

“Keep it.”

“And I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself,” he narrowed his eyes at you, before looking between you both once more. “You shouldn’t have done what you did. You shouldn’t have gone behind my back for so long.”

The pair of you glanced at each other, scolded but in agreement with him.

“But I understand why you did. For the pair of you to do this, to take it this far – it must be something genuine.”

More genuine than you cared to admit. Being without Dutch was like being without a limb.

“You deserve the chance to test it out in the open. Ideally,” he huffed in mild amusement, “not too open. I don’t wanna watch you canoodling. But still. You do have my blessing,” he squeezed your shoulder, “and I’m not just saying that. I’ve thought about it, and I mean it.”

There were no words, so you rested your hand over John’s that was still planted on his shoulder.

“Thank you, son,” Dutch said, his voice cracking despite his hardened demeanour.

“Now,” John lightened his tone and the mood, “from what I hear they’re about to open the bar. And I don’t know about either of you but I sure as hell need a drink.”

“I sure do,” you agreed quietly, and Dutch beckoned for the two of you to proceed, and you all made your way over to the bar.

After John’s talk, you began to settle into the idea of trying again with Dutch. You were still hesitant, but since Dutch had reminded you to unblock his number, he’d messaged you regularly and gently brought you around to the idea.

So, you’d started talking more frequently, general chitchat and while it wasn’t quite the same, you found yourself valuing his conversation much more than you had previously. Still, you were hesitant to visit him, but Dutch agreed to ease back into the relationship, and going long periods without seeing him wasn’t an alien concept to you considering that’d been the norm for over two years.

It was only a few more weeks until John messaged the group chat saying Abigail had gone into labour, and he’d sent you a private message saying it might be a good time for you to go to his house, considering nobody would be there and you could have some alone time together.

Dutch too had messaged you, and you allowed your chest to grow warm at the thought of them colluding to convince you to come round. He’d confirmed the house was empty save for him, Tilly spending half of her summer staying at Arthur and Charles’ place.

You decided to bite the bullet and agreed, getting the train that same day before you had a chance to chicken out. Unsurprisingly, Dutch stood firm in his decision to pick you up from the station.

The car journey to his house had been quiet, the two of you not knowing where you stood or how to approach the situation. Arriving at his house and seeing the big stone driveway was enough to make your heartbeat quicken, the memory of your last visit resurfacing.

Dutch had made you a hot drink, and the two of you were sat outside in the late evening summer sun, thankful for the chirping birds that filled the silence.

“If you’re uncomfortable, please tell me. I’ll take you home, and I won’t be offended,” he said gently.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you settled him, “it’s just a little strange as all. Didn't think I'd ever be here again.”

After a long sigh, Dutch shifted in his seat, angling himself towards you as though he had a secret he wanted only you to hear. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “A plan for what?”

“Making you a little more comfortable.”

“Let’s hear it.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blunt.

You couldn’t resist laughing, looking at him in shock. “You want to get high?”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you began, though no reason came to mind why you shouldn’t. “Because - is that a good idea?”

“Course. Might help us loosen up a little.” His charming smile made you feel all fuzzy – his under eyes were less dark than when you’d seen him last and he looked overall more like himself. He was dressed down in a t-shirt and jeans, and you were appreciative of the delightful view of those hairy forearms of his.

“I didn’t even know you got high.”

“Where do you think John gets it?”

“You sell drugs?” your face shifted from shocked to understanding, “no wonder you’re so rich.”

“I do not sell drugs.”

“No. Just to your son?”

“No, I don’t want him buying overpriced shit from some sketchy dealer. If he’s going to do drugs, he’s going to at least do good drugs. Besides, I don’t support the criminalisation of it.”

“Right,” you laughed, not wanting to spur him onto his well-worn soap box. “Well then,” you plucked it from his fingers to rest it between your teeth and reached into his pocket where you knew he kept his lighter, relishing in the tensing of his thighs, and flicked it on to light the end of the joint. “Let us not waste any time.”

You blew out the smoke and handed it to him, his face looking close to boyish with his grin in response. “I like your attitude.” Dutch took an inhale of his own, and either you really did have a thing for guys when they smoked or this was some strong stuff, because you began to feel all tingly.

Relaxing back on the bench, you took in the view of the garden and tipped your head back, allowing the sun to graze over your face. “I have missed being here.”

“I’ve missed having you here,” Dutch said, and you cracked an eye open at him, to see him observing you fondly. “I’m glad, in a way.”

“About what?”

“It happening the way it did.”

“Why?”

“We don’t have to hide it any longer,” he rested his arm on the bench behind you, “the sneaking around was growing tiresome.”

“I suppose,” you took the blunt from him and brought it to your lips. “Still, not sure I’ll ever recover from that look on John’s face.”

“Let’s not go back there right now. I’ve spent too much time in that space recently.”

You handed the joint back to him thoughtfully. “Has your mental health been okay?”

Dutch chuckled knowingly. “It has not. Thankfully, I’ve learnt to recognise the unhealthy thought patterns, and I was on a higher dose of medication for a while.”

“You’re not now?”

“No,” he shook his head, blowing out the smoke. “After John’s talk, after I could speak to you again – it all calmed down.”

“I see. I’m sorry you were suffering.”

“That’s alright,” he shrugged, passing the joint over to you. Dutch was going to say something else when your phone buzzed, and you pulled it from your pocket, expression brightening at what greeted you on the screen.

“Congratulations are in order,” you tilted the screen towards him, and he looked over your shoulder at the photo of a baby clutched in Abigail’s arms with John leaning over, a tired grin on his face.

Dutch’s face softened into excitement, and he took his reading glasses from his pocket to place them on his face and get a better look. “Oh my, look at that.”

Another photo came through, a close-up of the baby accompanied by a message from John sent to the group chat.

Jack’s here. Abigail had a tough delivery, but she was great, and we now officially have a healthy son. Can’t wait for you all to meet him.

Very to the point, and very on-brand for John. “Jack,” you crooned, “that’s lovely.”

Dutch patted his pocket, scoffing. “My phone’s in the kitchen, let me go text him.”

“You remember the weed, but not your phone while your grandson is being born?”

“Oh hush,” he muttered as he walked into the house.

He returned a few minutes later, while you’d messaged your congratulations along with the rest of your friends.

“How’s it feel to be a grandfather?”

“Good, oddly enough,” Dutch settled beside you, noticeably closer than he had been previously, but you didn’t mind. He took the joint from you and had a couple of drags.

“He’s gorgeous,” you smiled, and the two of you settled into a rhythm of smoking and chatting while the sun bathed you in its rays.

It was a lovely evening, and it wasn’t long before the joint was burnt out and you’d slowly slipped to be nestled into Dutch’s side, his head resting on yours and fingertips running over your palm. The two of you remained like that, fully relaxed and happy just to be near each other, the odd shift in position the only thing to break the peaceful silence.

The movement of Dutch’s fingers had transmuted to the brushing of his palm up your arm, and you tilted your head to look at him. His hands felt so good, so firm and warm, his rings leaving a cool trail in their wake.

He glanced down at you, face content, and you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he was.

“I’m hungry.”

“I can order -”

You cupped his jaw and attached your lips to his, not sure you could wait a single moment longer. The two of you still hadn’t shared a kiss since you’d arrived, and the weeks of longing to have his lips on yours had been agonising.

“Oh,” he said once you’d pulled away.

You laughed softly, edging closer despite already being pressed up against him. His eyes had already grown hungry too, and you realised you weren’t hungry at all. You were ravenous.

The two of you demanded the next kiss at the same time, one not nearly enough to make up for all those you’d missed out on. He gripped your waist, and you twisted your hand into the collar of his shirt, the two of you not willing to part with the taste of each other's mouths.

“Darlin’,” he breathed when you both finally surfaced for air, and you touched the tip of your nose to his. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed that.”

“Believe me,” you pecked the corner of his mouth, “I do.”

He ran a hand over your hair and tilted his head when your expression turned devious. “Do I even want to ask?”

You shook your head and stood, leaving him still leaning forward where your body was now absent. “I’d rather show.”

With that you walked into the house, Dutch’s rushed and uneven footsteps soon following behind.

“What are we doing?” he said, excited, as you led him towards the study.

Once there, you sat on his desk and parted your legs. “I believe we have some unfinished business.”

“Oh,” he smirked and stopped in his tracks, running a hand through his hair and visibly less rigid thanks to the herbs in his system.

His eyes were fixed on the spot between your thighs as he stalked towards you, reaching his hands out and gripping your thighs once he was close enough, pulling them even further apart and growling from his chest as he nestled his crotch between them. You bit down on your lip when you felt how hard he was, becoming acutely aware of how much wetter you were than usual, likely a mix of your heightened senses and the given circumstance.

“I do admire your thoroughness, miss,” he murmured into your ear, trailing his lips over your lobe and down your neck.

You sighed weakly into the air and let your eyes fall shut, thighs attempting to tighten around him, but his grip was like iron as he kept your thighs in place. Then his lips were gone, and you opened your eyes to see that he was too. You looked down to find him knelt between your legs. “Thirsty?” you teased, and he grinned up at you, black pupils taking up almost all of his iris’.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he pushed the material of the dress up your legs and nuzzled his nose into your mound. “I do love you in a summer dress,” he murmured, and you could feel the vibrations from his baritone.

Dutch chuckled at your feeble attempt of pushing your hips closer to him, not relenting with his grip.

“Don’t worry sweet girl, I don’t have it in me to tease you right now.”

There was no time to answer before his mouth was on you, pressing over the wet material of your underwear. Dutch licked up your slit, tangling his tongue with the fabric and you whined, placing your hands behind you on the cool wood of his desk.

“That’s it,” he said, taking your underwear between his teeth to move it to the side, “let me hear you.”

You glanced down at him, the infatuation plain on his face as he stared at your dripping pussy. “What happened to not teasing me?”

“This is not teasing. Do you want to see teasing?”

“Dutch,” you warned, and he could hear the seriousness filter through your playful tone.

“Not tonight,” he decided, and dived right into his favourite meal.

Dutch kissed and sucked your skin, the responsiveness of your pussy providing him with more hydration than he could manage to take in, but he appeared up for the challenge. Gentle flicks of his tongue over your clit turned into a deep drag of it over your inner walls and you gasped his name repeatedly as he thoroughly lavished you with his tongue.

Your ecstatic orgasm came around fast, and you were sure you didn’t breathe for a minute straight as he drank up all you could give him. His hands had you trapped in place so you were powerless to buck your hips and instead had to let it all go right there, and Dutch was panting when he removed his mouth from you.

“Du -”

He pulled you into a kiss by the back of your neck, using his other hand to undo his jeans and shuck them down far enough to pull out his cock and ease into your accommodating cunt.

“Good lord,” he groaned, unable to focus on kissing you as your walls tensed, begging for his cock to never leave the home it found itself nestled in. “I never,” he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger once he’d pulled himself together, “want to go so long without your pussy again.”

“Deal,” you kissed him, spotting the small window of opportunity while he was distracted to pull your legs from his grip and wrap them around his hips, coaxing him even further in and he let out a pained whimper.

His hands grabbed the swell of either side of your ass, experimentally offering a few slight thrusts, but the sensation was enough to drive you wild. His thick cock felt perfect, and you mused whether that was the extra limb you’d been missing all this time.

The small thrusts turned to longer, languid ones that had you whining, Dutch obsessive with the way he clung to your body and began fucking you stupid.

Nothing else mattered aside from the euphoric pleasure racing through your body, being drilled into and marked by Dutch in what you assumed was every way he could think of. Nips to your collarbones, fingertips digging into your flesh, pussy fucked so deeply the skin felt raw. You didn’t care. The two of you were together again, and as was always the case when you fell into each other’s arms, the world was right again.

“Shit,” Dutch grunted, blinking his eyes tightly as he watched himself disappear into you at a reckless pace, now not the time for tender loving. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your nose against his neck and breathing in the sheen of sweat on his skin. He was being greedy, his brain chasing one thing, the only thing that mattered at that moment. “It’s like you were made for me,” he began to babble to himself, and you knew he was close, so you held your own approaching orgasm until he was ready, “you’re so perfect, s-so fucking -”

Even words began to fail him as your body overtook every one of his thoughts, and that was a sentiment you shared as he fucked you deep and you cried out Dutch, because what other words were there?

He came hard, leaking into you as he pressed his hips forward, the desk jolting with the motion and you allowed your release to finally come too. His hands searched for an anchor, landing on the small of your back as he held you to him until he was completely empty.

The air around the two of you hummed, your bodies becoming soft and pliant at the familiar comfort of having your arms wrapped around each other. Eventually, each of you inched away to get a good look at the other.

Dutch’s eyelids were heavy, lips still shining with the remnants of you, and his hair had fallen around his face. He took in the view of you too and relaxed into a content smile, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, a tender act considering how hard he’d just defiled you. Neither of you had anything to say that would surmount the feelings you were experiencing in that moment.

So, you remained silent, breathing in one another until you were finally ready to face him pulling out.

As he tidied himself up, you leaned back on his desk and glanced to the side of his desk, noticing a picture frame. You took it in your hands and laughed minimally at the subject of the photo. “I can’t believe you have a picture of me here but not John.”

Despite the situation, Dutch'd made sure you get a photo with you at your graduation, you not realising he’d intended for it to take pride of place on his (now tainted) desk.

“I look better in this photo,” he said matter-of-factly. His expression softened when you raised your brows in questioning. “Or, perhaps you just make me look good.”

You shook your head, for him to shrug himself of judgement and join you in admiring the photo after he’d planted a kiss on your forehead.

It was true; you did look good together.

You’d intended to only stay at Dutch’s for a few days but found yourself not wanting to leave his side. In the end, you’d gone home for a single night to grab more stuff and made your way back to him first thing the next morning.

The day finally came when Abigail and John returned, and you watched them from the window as they made their way up the driveway, a carrier in hand. Dutch’d been fretting about the nursery – which the blue spare room had been turned into, and you were glad you hadn’t needed to part with ‘your’ room even if you did stay in Dutch’s - and whether it had everything it needed, despite already buying far too much stuff. Little Jack was surely going to be spoilt.

While you were overjoyed to get to spend so much time with the baby, Abigail and John were also happy to have you and Dutch on hand to take over when they needed a break, you ended up returning home for a time after being there for a couple of weeks, the start date at your new job just around the corner.

Since you spent the majority of your time working from home, it didn’t matter whether you stayed at your house or Dutch’s. Not wanting to rush too much into your relationship, or crowd the new family under the roof, you and Dutch agreed to a few nights a week at his place, then you'd spend the rest of it at yours. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t attempt to convince you to stay one extra night every time you had to leave, though.

Being around John while staying with his father had been awkward at first. But soon, as with all change, it became the new normal. It was nice, really, having him and Abigail so close by. It hadn’t taken long for Jack to become your favourite member of the family.

It was a few months down the line, and the Van der Linde house was full. John had worked through his nerves, but having family on hand, he’d begun taking fatherhood in his stride. He’d been grateful for you too, and you couldn’t deny that you were secretly pleased about having the advantage of the chance to be Jack’s favourite Auntie, aside from Tilly of course.

You were all in the garden after Dutch’d done a small barbeque, you stood by the table bobbing little Jack in your arms. “I do love being an auntie,” you expressed to the group, infatuated with the baby’s gorgeous cheeks.

Abigail turned to you; her face pensive. “Wouldn’t you be his step-grandma?”

Not that you’d expected anything less, but even Abigail had taken to the now-popular hobby of teasing you. Somehow, even Dutch had gotten in on the action. He snickered, John’s laugh echoing from the kitchen (his selective hearing was truly a wonder) before he walked outside and gave Abigail a proud kiss on the head.

“Isn’t your momma just the funniest?” you said down to Jack, after taking an offended pause.

She grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

Eventually, you’d parted with your nephew (no, he was not your step-grandson no matter what anyone said) and began taking the plates into the kitchen, loading them up into the dishwasher.

Dutch seized the opportunity to pat your ass as you were bent down, and you scoffed at him. “Perv.”

He laughed easily, bringing in the cutlery and loading it in himself. After you’d turned on the washing machine, you both took to watching the small family through the window, sitting on a mat on the grass and marvelling at Jack who’d recently learnt how to roll over.

“Now that kid will be a genius,” hummed Dutch, and you tutted at him.

“Will you leave the poor boy alone before you start locking him up with the books?”

Dutch ran his hands around your waist, holding you comfortably from behind, his warm and inviting torso a perfect cushion for your back. “I’ve half a mind to lock you up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry – do I not allocate enough time to you?” you quipped, and he chuckled into your hair.

“Not nearly enough to satiate me.”

You tsked through your teeth, resting your hands on top of his.

“I’m serious,” he added, and you glanced round to catch his eye.

“Oh, come on, what now?”

“I’ve been thinking...”

“I’ve learnt to view that sentence as a warning.”

Dutch’s eyes crinkled with his amusement, and he placed a kiss on your temple. “All I’m saying is I would love to have you here permanently. I say it not as a demand, not for something to do right now, but something to let brew in that wonderful mind of yours.”

“And you say I’m the one always jumping to the next step,” you kissed him sweetly, and he tightened his hold around you as you looked back out the window.

“It’s a mere suggestion, darlin’. Something for you to ponder when you find yourself bored.”

All you could do was smirk, this irrevocably charming man always willing to prove his need to have, which you’d deduced was just another name for a more potent form of desire; a thing he seemed to have in bucket-loads for you. You rested your head back against him, revelling in the promise of comfort and belonging that kept you company whenever you found yourself in his arms.

“Whatever you say, Mr Van der Linde.”

a/n: hopefully none of you need the reminder but pls don't fuck your best friend's dad, author does not condone it. also I know Dutch would probably be an absolute nightmare on weed given his paranoia, but in this universe that’s not a thing because I don't want it to be :)

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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gamma-rae-bursts · 2 years ago

Text

We Found Love Right Where We Are

The 5 times the BAU team had their suspicions and the 1 time you confirmed them.

Pairing: Alex Blake x Fem! Reader

Warnings: slight alcohol consumption, mentions of sex

Genre: Fluffy One-Shot

Word Count: 3500+

A/N: Written for @nightmarish-fae ❤️ my best simping bud that always fuels my obsession with CM ladies. I will also forever stand by the soft Alex Blake headcanon.

It wasn’t love at first sight. Both you and Alex took your time to acknowledge the feelings you’ve developed for one another, and it took you even longer to admit them.

When she first joined the team, you thought nothing of it, after all why would you. And it wasn’t until months later that you finally admitted to yourself that you had a hopeless crush on the linguist. It was the way she spoke that gave you butterflies, the way she walked with such grace you’ve never seen before, every little detail about her started to seem absolutely perfect. But you didn’t say anything, you didn’t want to risk being rejected but most importantly, ruin the friendship the two of you have formed over the months.

And neither did she. It wasn’t until after one of the frequent movie nights at Alex’s place, when both of you had one too many glasses of wine to keep your mouths shut and you’ve finally admitted how you truly felt.

And it was perfect ever since, the two of you worked together in such harmony, understood one another like nobody else. At the very beginning you and Alex decided not to tell the team, you didn’t want to make it awkward for anyone in case you didn’t work out in the end. And above all, you didn’t want to hear Morgan’s snarky remarks at every point of your workdays. You were happy to keep it as a little secret, you knew how much Alex has valued her privacy as well as separating her personal life from her work life. You just happened to be a part of both.

5. Can’t keep my eyes off of you

You were sat at your desk, desperately trying to get any work done. It was one of the paperwork days for the BAU and as glad as you were that there were no psychopaths running around and murdering people, you couldn’t help but hope for some excitement to be added to your otherwise boring workday.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, driving your attention away from the file you’ve been working on. You saw Alex’s name across your lock screen and couldn’t help the smile that creeped on your face.

Alex: Darling, if you don’t stop looking at me like that every 5 minutes the team will start getting suspicious.

You must admit, it had become increasingly harder and harder to keep your eyes off of the gorgeous linguist, especially when her desk was right across from yours. Alex was completely aware of that, sometimes purposefully leaving extra buttons of her shirt undone, knowing exactly how crazy it drove you during work.

You started typing your message to reply to the older woman when you saw Morgan heading towards your desk.

“What was that about?” the man questioned with a curious smile, slightly raising his eyebrows.

“Huh? What was what about?” you said raising your eyebrows as well. Being surrounded by a team of exceptionally talented profilers had its downsides, being in situations like this must be on the top of the list.

“Oh, come on y/n!” Derek exclaimed “I saw that smile when you looked at your phone, is there anything you’re not telling us about?! Or more like anyone?”

“What no!” you said and nervously chuckled, the way in which Morgan looked at you made all your hopes of seamlessly getting out of this situation disappear, but you didn’t want to give in just yet, not without talking to Alex first. “It was just a cute cat picture my friend sent to me” you said as you stood up from your desk grabbing your mug and started walking towards the coffee machine.

“Mhm, friend…” he added with a chuckle and a shake of his head as you left the bullpen.

4. Clothes

“You look better in my clothes than I do” Alex whispered to you as the two of you exited the elevator and started heading to the bullpen.

“You better hope nobody notices, or it’ll be over for us” you whispered back, slight smirk on your face. You were, in fact, wearing an outfit that majorly consisted of Alex’s clothes, the only item that belonged to you were the shoes, which you have also worn on the previous day. The two of you have gone out on a little date the night before, which didn’t happen frequently considering the unpredictable nature of your jobs. The date has, unsurprisingly, ended in Alex’s apartment where you’ve stayed the night.

“Morning Everyone!” you hear Penelope’s high pitched voice roam through the bullpen as you enter.” Don’t get all too comfortable, we have a case!”

As everyone headed into the conference room Penelope stopped you before you managed to take a single step, with a big smile on her face.

“I know that shirt from somewhere” the eccentric blonde said, giving you that look of ‘I know what you’re up to’.

“What do you mean?” you replied, trying to keep the expression on your face unchanged, slightly confused as if you had indeed no idea what she was talking about. You put in your best efforts trying to mask the inner panic this interaction has caused.

“I’ve seen Blake wearing it last week, and I know it was this exact shirt because it took me by surprise, it’s not something she would usually wear!” Penelope said, looking straight into your eyes, waiting for you to give in.

“Oh, we might have the same shirts then” you said, trying to mask the anxiety that almost caused you to shake “I guess it’s not as original as I thought it was when I bought it” you finished the sentence with a gentle smile, really hoping Penelope bought the horrible lie you came up with.

The two of you then headed to the conference room together and all you could hope was that Penelope could get the hint and not tell every other agent about the interaction you’ve just had.

3. Date

You didn’t get the chance to go out together often, either because you were away on cases, loaded with paperwork or so exhausted from the workload that all you wanted was to stay in your house. This week was different. There weren’t any cases that would cause you to leave the city and each team member was fully caught up on the paperwork. This was a perfect time for you and Alex to finally spend some quality time together. You knew Penelope planned a girls’ night for the evening, but both of you made up some excuses as to why you couldn’t come.

You told Alex you would pick her up at 5pm. You didn’t plan anything too fancy; you were completely aware this was not Alex’s scene and even less yours. Instead, you decided to take your girlfriend to one of the biggest bookstores in the area. After all she was a linguist with borderline unhealthy obsession about books. But you didn’t mind it at all. You loved how consumed by reading she got every evening; with how much passion she spoke about her favourite authors and how much she knew about every single one. This woman was truly amazing, and you adored every single aspect that made her, her.

***

“So where are we going?” Alex questioned with a soft smile as she got into your car.

“My word still stands, you’ll find out when we get there” you answered with a smile and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, trying to transfer as little of your lip gloss onto her skin as possible.

The drive was peaceful filled with silence between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Alex was in charge of the music so the whole way there you listened to Beethoven’s symphony no. 5. Her taste in music, although being the complete opposite of yours, was one of the things you adored about the woman.

When you got to the parking lot right across the bookstore you saw the way Alex’s eyes lit up. And this was all you could ever ask for.

“Come on, you can tell me all about your favourite books and authors and I’m paying for all the books you want!” you said with a huge smile that matched the one spread across Alex’s face “And after we go through the whole 3 floors, I’m taking you out for dinner.”

“You’re too sweet to me y/n/n” the brunette said softly, after which she proceeded to leave a gentle yet passionate kiss on your lips “I’m so excited for this!”

***

As you expected the bookstore was a huge hit. You and Alex spent a little over 3 hours wandering between the bookshelves, stopping at every single one to see what it had to offer. Alex told you a little about every book she picked up, about its origin, the author and how much of a historical impact it had. And you enjoyed every last second of it. There was something so special about seeing her fully in her element, something that made you truly happy.

You left the bookstore with a few books to add to Alex’s ever-growing collection. When you got to the restaurant you picked out, the conversation about books and linguistics continued. That was until you noticed JJ and Penelope heading into the same restaurant you and Alex were sitting in. And it was too late, before you could make up any sort of an escape plan the two women noticed you and your girlfriend. The good thing was that you managed to let go of each other’s hands before either of them noticed.

“Oh my God! y/n! Alex! What are you two doing here!” JJ exclaimed. You could tell from the way she was speaking that she was as least tipsy, borderline drunk. You could only hope that Penelope matched her level.

“You said you were busy and couldn’t make it tonight!” Penelope said with a pout “What the hell is this then!”

“Oh, it’s nothing, me and y/n bumped into each other after we’ve finished running the errands and decided to grab some dinner together” Alex answered. You really hoped the two agents were too drunk to properly put the two and two together.

“Ah, I see! Well, it’s not too late to join the girls’ night now ladies!” Penelope exclaimed “Come on we're going to the club!”

This one was too close.

2. Hickey

“It’s nothing, I burned myself with a curling iron a few days ago” Alex said with a sigh, trying to convince Morgan, silently hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of this. Unfortunately for the two of you he didn’t buy the crappy excuse Alex came up with.

“I don’t know Blake, it looks like a hickey to me” you overheard Morgan say with a grin plastered across his face.

The night before was eventful to say the least. You and Alex decided to stay at her apartment, cook dinner together and watch your favourite TV show. It goes without saying that the latter part did not go to plan, which neither of you complained about. You didn’t have time to yourselves for the past three weeks, as there was a case after another during which you were paired in a room with JJ and Alex with Reid. At the time neither of you wanted to risk anybody suspecting something, or even worse, finding out about your relationship. After one too many glasses of wine you could not keep your hands to yourself, ending the evening in Alex’s bedroom. The longing for her touch had become too much at that point. When you woke up in the morning you could see the results of the previous night’s activities on Alex’s neck.

“Looks like our Dr Blake is getting some guys!” Morgan exclaimed grabbing the attention of the team. Garcia and JJ, of course, joined him at the linguist’s desk. You decided to join the group to not seem any more suspicious than you already were, Spencer joined shortly after you. At this points the only team members not gathered around the desk were Rossi and Hotch, both of which were in their offices. You didn’t doubt they too would join the interrogation if they were made aware of it.

“I need to know everything now!” Garcia said staring right into the older woman’s’ soul.

“There is nothing to know Penelope, as I said I burned myself with a curling iron” Alex tried to convince the agents again.

“You know statistically speaking people who have sex on a regular basis are happier than people who don’t. This is due to the release of the hormone oxytocin during orgasms.” Spencer added causing Alex to roll her eyes.

“Come on everyone” you all turned your heads to Hotch, who was standing right outside his office “We have a case.”

Both you and Alex released a sigh of a relief, thanking any higher power for the perfect timing of Hotch’s announcement.

1. Slip up

During the lunch break you, Alex and Spencer decided to head out to a new café that was opened just a little over a week prior. It was conveniently located right outside your workplace.

As each of you ordered your meals, you enjoyed listening to the two of them discussing linguistic concepts you had absolutely no idea about. Over the months you’ve learned a few things from Alex, but you were far from the point where you would be able to join in on their conversation with any of your own input.

The two of them were now discussing human capability of producing sounds, which just happened to be the topic of the conversation you’ve had with the linguist the day before. You’ve always been interested in language, it just so happened that your life led you in the completely opposite direction resulting in you having a wider scientific knowledge rather than anything to do with your lover’s field. Nevertheless, the desire to contribute to the conversation between Alex and Spencer was greater than the embarrassment caused by your limited knowledge on the subject, so you decided to join in.

“And by meaningful sounds you mean, taking English as an example, the letters P and B produce sounds that allow us to form different words, like pat and bat or pet and bet, right?” you said as you looked up at the pair of agents sitting across from you.

“Yes, I would think so” Spencer said, with a confused but impressed look on his face “How did you know that y/n?”

“Well, just like last night Alex said…” you stopped yourself before you could finish the sentence, realising the huge slip up that fell from your lips. Alex looked back at you with eyes wide open.

“Last night?” the boy genius questioned with a raised eyebrow “What were you two doing together last night?”

“y/n stopped at mine last night to pick up some books I’ve talked about before, she said she would like to give them a go” Alex quickly answered Spencer’s question, causing you to silently sigh in relief.

0. Karaoke Night

Late night conversations with Alex weren’t uncommon, the job took its toll on both of you causing occasional insomnia. Other than that, you wanted to spend as much time with your girlfriend as possible, even if it meant sacrificing your sleep for it. You would lie if you said you didn’t enjoy the chats the two of you had, talking about the meaning of life, where your life was heading or the existence itself. You loved hearing Alex elaborate on all of the above, carefully listening to all her thoughts, everything and anything she had to say.

This night was no different, you were snuggled together in your bed, your head resting on the older woman’s chest and her hand making small circles on your back.

“I think I’m ready to tell the team” Alex whispered and placed a gentle kiss on your head. “I want them all to know how happy you make me.”

You raised your head to look her in the eyes “Are you sure honey?” you whispered back.

“Yes, I want everyone to know that you’re my girlfriend, I want to finally be able to hold your hand on our way to the office and show up in one car without being scared someone will suspect something” she said sternly, yet gently and smiled at you.

You pressed a soft kiss on her lips, but you couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto your face as you did so. “I’d like that too”.

***

Penelope’s ‘Team Bonding Policy’ included an obligatory monthly night out for the whole of the BAU. This month’s activity took place at the bar frequented by all of you, everyone was enthusiastic about this as it wasn’t too far out of anyone’s comfort zone. What Penelope forgot to mention was that this was a Karaoke Night.

This didn’t stop the team from having fun, Morgan flirting with all the girls by the bar, Penelope and JJ dancing together like there was no tomorrow. Rossi and Hotch were sat together discussing the Italian man’s all previous marriages. Even Spencer found himself someone to impress with his magic tricks. You and Alex were still sat at the table talking about everything and anything. At that point of the evening everyone had had a few drinks, you included. You were by no means drunk, tipsy at most. That’s when you decided that this will be the night the team officially finds out about your relationship.

You leaned closer to your girlfriend, cupping her face in your hands when you pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. Alex sighed in surprise. “I’m going to sing the cheesiest love song for you” you said and quickly ran away from the woman before she could react in any way, leaving her speechless.

A few minutes later you appeared on the stage, holding the microphone. It would be an understatement to say that the agents were surprised to see you there.

The music of ‘Thinking out Loud’ by Ed Sheeran began to play and you started to sing, looking right into the eyes of the love of your life.

When your legs don't work like they used to before And I can't sweep you off of your feet Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks

And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70 And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23 And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Oh me I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am

A soft smile spread across Alex’s face as she looked at you from where the two of you were sitting before. You kept the eye contact as you sang every word, hitting every note of the song perfectly.

So honey now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud Maybe we found love right where we are

When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades And the crowds don't remember my name When my hands don't play the strings the same way, mm I know you will still love me the same

'Cause honey your soul can never grow old, it's evergreen Baby your smile's forever in my mind and memory

This was the point where all the agents noticed the non-stopping eye contact you and Alex have shared, the soft smiles you sent her between lines of the song. You didn’t care about the confused looks each and every one of them have sent you, Alex was all that mattered in that moment. The brunette slowly stood up from the table and started heading towards the stage, where you continued singing for her.

But baby now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud That maybe we found love right where we are, oh

So baby now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Oh darling, place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud That maybe we found love right where we are

What came as an even bigger surprise to everyone was the moment Alex joined you on the stage. Although she didn’t sing with you, you were perfectly content with the turn of events. You wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled and older woman closer to you.

Oh baby, we found love right where we are And we found love right where we are

She didn’t hesitate to kiss you in front of everyone and you immediately reciprocated the gesture. The team started cheering from where they were sat, and you heard Penelope and Morgan yell “I knew it” at the exact same time making both of you giggle into the kiss.

#criminal minds #alex blake #alex blake x reader #fluff #reader insert #bau team #y/n fics #one shot #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff

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theawkwardanglophile · 1 year ago

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What are your top 5 episodes??

I should have seen this coming! 😂 Thanks for the ask, Sarah, and I’m sorry I didn’t get this out sooner. My brain was mush the past couple of days and I wanted to give this my full attention when I made my decisions. And, man, I DELIBERATED on this! My criteria were episodes that were Chenford-heavy, so some eps that have like one big amazing Chenford scene (4x18 for example) were left out. And I'm sure this might change at some point, but I feel pretty good about where everything landed for now. So here we go….

5x12 Death Notice This ep just has EVERYTHING: the end of their era of riding together, being flirty at work, ridiculous married vibes (the lint picking??), LUCY LESSON (how did it take them 5 years to come up with the greatest term to counter Tim Tests? Bring back Lucy Lessons in S6!), the lengths they both will go to for each other, Tim's talk with Grey, and of course, NAKED TIME. And that doesn't even cover all of it. I just love it to pieces.

5x10 The List The absolute high this episode gave me, after a full month of bliss already with them being canon. The most delicious rom-commy cold open that I could have hoped for, trying on their entire closets and then being so painfully, adorably awkward on their date. Then Tim and Lucy being ANYTHING but subtle at work, which is just so hilarious considering they can be so stealthy when needed on the job, but trying to hide their relationship? Umm, y'all weren't fooling anyone. Maybe Nolan. And the precious first/second date at the end. The GRANDKIDS, the SMILES, the KISS. Perfection!

4x09 Breakdown An Eric Winter master performance. I just wanted to hug Tim throughout the ep. Luckily, Lucy was there for that job, and what a hug it was! Tim lets go completely and sinks into her, all his walls down. He felt so safe with her. I love how her opinion of him means everything, and she was quick to offer reassurance (I truly believe her words in 4x08 were just a slip of the tongue). But I also love how Lucy is just doing life with Tim, the things that matter. Where was Ashley, hmmm? It's Lucy that's there helping with such a significant job of remodeling Tim's childhood house, and doing some wonderful future sister-in-law bonding with Genny. Also, Tim and Lucy power-walking through the station in plain clothes? A VIBE.

4x12 The Knock The most insane double date ever? My gosh, this ep has so much fun stuff in it, so many little details, that even though Lucy started dating Chris, and Ashley decided to turn a blind eye and continue dating Tim, after watching this I had never been more convinced that Chenford was endgame. Every part of the double date is gold, and Tim and Lucy's scenes on the job beautifully showcase how seamlessly they work together (and their total lack of personal space). LOVE IT.

2x13 Follow-Up Day This ep was an early fave, and still holds a special place. TIM GAVE UP A PROMOTION FOR LUCY. Way before Court Liaison there was THIS. Lucy is his biggest cheerleader this whole ep (and, you know, always), and Grey's knowing looks during the test score scene is *chef's kiss*. And the scene outside the bakery is everything. Their faces say so much! They were being such flirts in S2, to the point that I originally wondered if they might actually start something later that season. THAT'S how powerful that scene was.

Honorable mentions:

2x11 Day of Death I know, I know, and part of me feels like it should be in the top five. I mean, it is without a doubt one of the best episodes, if not the best, they ever made. It's so powerful, and was the turning point in my shipping, because I'd only been mildly intrigued by Chenford in a few S2 eps, but DOD cemented me as a full-fledged shipper (little did I know it would become my best shipping experience of all time). But it can be a hard one to watch, and I just love those others a tiny bit more.

5x08 The Collar There are so many moments to love in this ep. It truly changed everything with Tim and Lucy, and the more I've seen their talk outside at the end, the more it grows on me. It really is so them. Even though they become CANON in this one, I think because there is so much clueless Chris, and the tough scene with the first bomb victim, it just didn't quite make it to the top 5.

3x09 Amber Anyone who was around when this aired knows we all lost our minds pretty good with this ep. It grew on me more and more over time, and I love it so much. The whole confession scene still might be the longest uncut Chenford scene...ever? Just them talking in the shop. It's insanely wonderful! And this ep gave us Parking Garage Face and the beginning of a brand new chapter with Tim and Lucy.

5x01 Double Down Editing to add this one, because I started questioning everything, and it did NOT feel right to leave this one out. What a fantastic collection of moments. The airplane kiss is top tier, HANDS, the gorgeous shots of them in the car in Vegas, it doesn't feel like pretend, etc. And even though I'm so glad they didn't cheat, I'll never be over the fact SHE OPENED THE DOOR FOR HIM AND HE WENT IN.

#chenford #the rookie #tim x lucy #this was tough!#but fun #feel free to send more #my asks #asked and answered #chenford chats

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spicy30 · 4 months ago

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IV. May - A limbo

cw: Alcohol abuse, reader has daddy issues, emotional manipulation, abuse

Pairing: Police Officer!Shinazugawa Sanemi x Modern!reader

Tags: Established relationship, gender-neutral reader, toxic relationships, Angst/comfort?, no usage of Y/N, daddy issues

(Not proof read)

Rating: 18+

IV. May - A limbo 5/10

Today will be our fourth month together. It was such a nice day; I worked extra hard so I could have all of today and tomorrow free. This is why I work so hard. I work hard so that I do not have to work hard. Contradictions, lots of them. I try not to think about how long I’ve been with him. I try not to think about how I’m with someone who I didn’t expect to stay with. I have a very different concept of relationships. I can’t bring myself to say another word that's not ‘relationship’ because if I admit it to myself, I’ll leave. I can’t stay for long. I don’t want to see a monster in him or me. I have a twisted vision of what relationships are like. But it keeps me safe, so I’d rather not correct it or prove it wrong. But slowly, I want to feel like it is mending little by little. But I don’t feel safe; I feel as if I’m in a bad dream. I have bad dreams quite frequently, though I don’t really refer to them as bad dreams. They seem more like really violent dreams. Where I am the prey, and the hunter always gets me. I run in loops and loop again to find something, to find anything where I come on top, and I always do. I’m sure this is no different. I hope for it, yet not at the same time. My way of resolving things ends up in the opposite side getting hurt. I promise….I promise I won’t be the monster. I promise I won’t find anything; I want it to get me this time, but I can’t let myself just lie down. It’s too hard. My mind is always buzzing. I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t know how to turn it off without getting myself captured.

How contradicting. I can only let myself forget when I am captured, yet that is the time when it sounds the loudest. I wish I could stay with him forever in sweet moments when I’m not thinking of everything all at once. But my panics forbid this from happening. I don’t know how to stop. Empty promises after another.

This one was quite short compared to your other ones. However, these insights into your thoughts make him happy. It's a side that he was never able to pick up. You talk a lot about work and seem happy about what you do. Do you struggle a lot? Is it hard to be up? You choose to stay up late doing what you like. You regret it in the morning, yet you tell him it was worth it.

“I don’t always just want to work. I want to have fun and be able to do my own things.” Those were your exact words to him. He remembers the fight the two of you had. He had told you just to get something done that you were dreading doing. “My mom says that exact phrase.” You told him. Clearly, you were unamused. “Don’t you think I would’ve already done that? I haven’t because clearly, it’s something I don’t want to do yet. It stresses me out, so I’d rather push it back. I’ve got it.”

“Then just get it out of the way.”

That was the first time he had seen you lose your temper. Telling him to shut up because he was annoying, telling him that you always have everything under control and you always have a plan. But did you? He didn’t know you well enough to know. He thinks you did. You always seem to know what you’re doing. In the end, you simply dismissed him and whatever he was saying. He was forced to leave as you kept dismissing him.

But it was ok because you apologized 20 minutes later. He apologized, too; he shouldn’t have pressed your buttons like that. You are your own person. He shouldn’t have said anything and should’ve just listened. He corrected himself from then on.

Previous Part I Next Part I Series Masterlist

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

#kny #kny x reader #kny sanemi #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #sanemi x you #modern sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #x reader

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a34trgv2 · 2 years ago

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Top 10 Worst Main Characters In Cartoons

#10. Kick Buttowski (Kick Buttowski: Suburban Daredevil): Kicking off our list (no pun intended) is the one trick pony of a character that is Kick Buttowski. His character begins and ends with him wanting to do extreme stunts. That'd be fine for a 7 minute short as a tribute or parody to stuntmen like Evel Knevel, but for an animated series? His shtick gets old very fast and he's nothing more than a blank slate of a character.

#9. Lincoln Loud (The Loud House): A smug, narcissistic brat, Lincoln treats his sisters like a means to end at best and a pain to live with at worst. Not only does he show contempt with them on a daily basis, but he's also not afraid to humiliate and take advantage of them to stroke his own ego. Would you believe this kid's named after one of the greatest Presidents of all time.

#8. Katie Mitchell (The Mitchells vs The Machines): Nothings makes me hate a movie more than how hatable the main character is. Katie is selfish, annoying, ungrateful, and not even remotely funny. She has this bitter and resentful attitude towards her father when they were once best friends, and the way she makes this story about her is very condescending. If the movie had been about her as a child and putting her relationship with her non-tech savy father to the test, maybe I'd sympathize with her more, but as a teenager ready for college, she's just a brat.

#7. Nancy Clancy (Fancy Nancy): I now know how Dora's detractors feel after watching Fancy Nancy. Nancy is such an obnoxious, pampered brat that talks down to the audience like we're pesents and always acts like a fancy life is the best life. She's very rude, selfish, and narcissistic, all of which are qualities you're NOT supposed to have when trying to be fancy.

#6. Miriam "Mimi" Mortin (What About Mimi?): No, this gif isn't from the villain of this obscure show. It's from the main protagonist...and that's just the tip of the iceberg. Mimi is a stupid, selfish, and annoying kid who makes simple problems worse by going overboard with her plans and throwing her friends under the bus. She's also very irresponsible and oblivious to the fact that she's no better than the show's designated spoiled brat, Sincerity.

#5. Kai (The Hollow): The one character that singlehandedly makes the show worse, Kai is everything Adam and Mira DIDN’T need on their journey. He's whiny, selfish, short-tempered and a big, fat coward. Whenever there's danger, his first and only instinct is to head for the hills instead of helping his friends. He also needlessly starts arguments with Adam because Heaven forbid 2 guys have a normal conversation together without it turning into a shouting match.

#4. Kiff Chatterley (Kiff): What do you get when you put Mimi's personality in a squirrel who's dumber than a sack of acorns? You get Kiff! She's selfish, annoying, stupid, irresponsible, and overdramatic over the simplist of things. What puts her above Mimi on the list is Kiff is the 4th irresponsible main female character I had the displeasure of sitting through after I specifically said I was done with these types of character. The character's a bigger waste of time than watching a worm try to crack open a safe.

#3. Molly McGee (The Ghost and Molly McGee): If you thought Dee Dee from the last 2 Seasons of Dexter's Lab was a headache, you might want to where a helmet when being in the same room as Molly McGee. She's annoying, inconsiderate, loud, obnoxious, and really stupid. She never thinks before she acts and every time she opens her mouth, she never shuts up. The worst part about her is the fact that Scratch can't just leave her because he put a curse on her, meaning he's stuck suffering with the audience listening to this chatterbox.

#2. Oscar Peltzer (Summer Camp Island): It boggles my mind how Hedgehog, nevermind ANYONE, would be friends with this kid. Oscar is selfish, annoying, inconsiderate, and stupid. He goes through Hedgehog's personal stuff, cheats at games and gets lost in the city. He also has a bad habit of not thinking before he acts, making him all the more annoying and stupid.

#1. Apple and Onion (Apple & Onion): No need to imagine a show with 2 annoying side characters as the main characters, because it already exists. Apple and Onion are easily the worst characters in Cartoon Network's history. In addition to being annoying and stupid, they also lack basic chemistry with each other and are painfully unfunny. What puts them at #1 though is Apple's fatphobia and Onion's complacency to said fatphobia. Need I say more? -.-

Conclusion: These cartoon protagonists are not only bad role models, but they're also just badly written. Whether they be annoying, stupid, irresponsible, or selfish, trust me when I say you DON'T want characters like these as the protagonist of your show/movie. Either audience's will mistake them as villains, or they'll just tune out. Dishonorable mentions go to Fei Fei from Over The Moon (I've talked enough about that brat -.-), Bloo from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends (I wouldn't have blamed Mac for not visiting Foster's anymore after the birthday party episode), and Rick Sanchez from Rick & Morty (would've made the list, but I don't wanna give Rick & Morty any more attention than it has already). Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon ;)

#reblog #share #like #follow #animation #comedy #disney #cartoon network #the hollow #netflix animation #top 10 list #summer camp island #apple & onion #the mitchells vs the machines #the ghost and molly mcgee #what about mimi #kiff #disney kiff

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butterfliesornauseous · 2 years ago

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I don't know if you are taking requests still or not, i'm the one that asked about the bad stomach aches, just dropping ideas lol but a character crying in bed because of the bad stomach ache while someone comforts them. A character having a hard time walking/moving since it makes the pain worse. Fast breathing, difficulty talking. A character telling whoever is with them to "please, make it stop" while the other character feels so bad because they can't really do anything. A character not standing tummy rubs/their tummy being touched. Walking hunched over or needing help walking. A character not wanting to uncurl so their caretaker can look at the tummy. I love specially the comforting part of this, i find it sweet, i'm a big drama lover tho. Just a few ideas

I’ll add some to the list/ expand on some but some of those you sent have my heart 😍

(If you ever wanted anon I would love to give you credit for them😁)

Also I’m not sure but was this the crying from a bad stomach ache anon? Sorry if I got you guys mixed up and it’s not what you were looking for but I hope you enjoy anyway 😁

1. Character that gets bad stress stomachaches and one of their comforts is normally tummy rubs and without asking care taker starts rubbing their tummy to soothe them. Instead of helping the pain, sickie bursts into tears because it’s a awful ache and pressure just made it hurt worse.

2. Caretaker doesn’t actually know what’s wrong with sickie because sickie is crying so hard they can barely form a coherent sentence to explain what’s wrong with their stomach.

3. On top of their stomach ache, sickie is still feels quite hungry from not eating to avoid aggravating their tummy any further (of course that’s great enough on its own) and caretaker still tries to get them to eat anyway and after every mouth full sickie tears up a little because yes it’s settling the hunger, but it’s worsening the actual stomach ache.

4. Sickie’s stomach hurts bad enough that they can’t walk (or don’t even want to try) so caretaker gives them a piggyback ride. It’s a bumpy ride and they keep slipping and caretaker has to ‘hoist’ them back up which jostles sickies stomach nearly as bad as walking would have. (Add on a bit of caretaker apologising every time the ride gets rough, or they have to reposition sickie but caretaker still feels guilty since their apologies aren’t going to change anything.) (If you want to make it more dramatic you could also throw in sickie silently crying into caretaker’s shoulder which soon starts to drench their top which make caretaker feel even worse feeling that damp spot)

5. Sickie and caretaker aren’t alone and sickie really doesn’t want the others to know how bad their tummy is hurting, so they try to make gestures to get caretaker’s attention, but caretaker keeps misinterpreting them. So on top of holding back tears from how bad of state their stomach is in, now there is also frustration tears they have to hold back. They finally get to let it all out once the caretaker understands what they mean and takes them to a private area.

6. Caretaker letting sickie cuss/yell/cry/etc at them while they feel around sickie’s stomach because they were getting really concerned with how badly it was hurting sickie. Caretaker knows them feeling and prodding sickie’s tummy must be making it worse, but they have to make sure everything is okay and they let sickie get all their frustration out without taking it personally/sickie really doesn’t mean it. Once they have confirmed it’s nothing serious, they let sickie cry into their shoulder and console them softly while sickie gets the rest of their pained cries out. (Even later while sickie is crying they might start to cry about how bad they feel for yelling at caretaker and caretaker just shushes telling them they know sickie didn’t mean it and it’s all alright :)

7. Caretaker has to spoon feed sickie their medicine, bring their water bottle to their lips, wipe the sweat/tears off them etc since sickie physically can’t bring themselves to remove their hands from their stomach.

#thank you anon :))#stomach ache #upset tummy #upset stomach #tummy ache #sorry if that’s not what you wanted anon but I hope you can still enjoy :)#sickfic prompts

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ruth-writes · 3 months ago

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What's My Age Again?: Chapter 5

Overview

Previous chapter

Next chapter

I decided on a name! The hashtag is gonna be whatismyageagain so it won't get mixed up with the song

Alex's POV

Content warnings: mentions of self harm and abuse

I scanned through the apartment listings as Professor Andrews droned on and on. I’d already had five viewings in the past few days and felt pretty good about the last two, but I wouldn’t stop anxiously setting up more until I’d signed a contract with someone. I was so engrossed, it took me a few seconds to realize everyone had started packing their things. Was class already over? Fuck.

“Do you want my notes from today, too?” Riley asked, glancing over at my empty google doc.

“Yes, please. Thank you so, so much,” I replied gratefully.

“It’s really not a big deal,” they said. “I’m taking the notes anyways. By the way, I’m meeting Billie and Aaliyah for lunch, do you want to come?”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of busy,” I replied automatically. I had two viewings this afternoon, had to pick Jamie up from school, and now I had to revise Riley’s notes.

“Oh, come on. You have to eat something either way,” Riley argued as we started filing out of the lecture hall.

They had a point there, especially since I’d already skipped breakfast. I wondered if Riley was being so insistent because my stomach had been growling loud enough to create aggravating background noise to the already boring lecture. Plus, it would be nice to see Aaliyah again, so I let Riley lead me to one of the two taco trucks on campus.

“Alex!” Aaliyah called when she saw us. She gave me an enthusiastic hug, the spikes on her necklace poking into my chest.

“Hey!” I said, hugging her back and praying she couldn’t hear my hear thumping loudly.

Billie seemed happy enough to see me as well, at least that’s what I got from the quick side hug we gave each other. I scanned the menu as I got in line behind them, slightly regretting setting myself up for eating one of the messiest foods ever in front of Aaliyah.

“How’ve you been?” Billie asked me. “I haven’t seen you since… well, you know.”

“Fine, I guess. I’ve been pretty busy figuring everything out,” I replied, trying to be vague and honest at the same time.

“Well, if you need anything, let us know,” Riley chimed in. They all agreed, making me smile. I got the feeling they truly meant it.

“How was Andrews?” Aaliyah asked, thankfully changing the subject.

Riley rolled their eyes. “I have never in my life met a person who can take interesting subjects and make them that boring. I’m pretty sure Alex fell asleep.”

“Okay, rude,” I defended myself. “I didn’t remember a thing, but I was awake.”

“Whatever.”

We made more small talk, finding a picnic table. Thankfully, we were all a complete mess while eating our tacos, which made me feel better.

“Oh, God,” Billie groaned, looking over my shoulder. “Heads up, wannabe jock coming over.”

I turned around to see Sam strutting towards us. “Hey, Alex!” He then eyed Billie, who uncomfortably pulled her jacket closed to cover her chest. “Damn, Bille. That top sure looks good on you.”

“Dude, what do you want?” Aaliyah snapped, getting up to place herself protectively in front of Billie.

Sam took a step back. “Whoa, sorry. I just came over to talk to my friend Alex here.” Damn it, why did he have to pull me into this? He clapped my back unnecessarily hard. “How’ve you been, buddy? I haven’t seen you since you moved out without telling me.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at me expectantly. I cleared my throat. “Look, Sam, I think that maybe you should leave. You’re being kind of weird, you know?” I didn’t speak with half the confidence Aaliyah had, but of course Sam listened to me more than her. He left, mumbling something about how no one could take a compliment these days, and Aaliyah returned to the bench after she was satisfied that he was far enough away.

“I can’t believe- oh, shit!” Riley swore as their taco ripped at the bottom, spilling chunks of tomato and beans onto the table. Aaliyah grabbed one of her extra napkins and started cleaning it up. Once they’d managed to get the tinfoil to hold their salvageable taco remnants, Riley started again. “I can’t believe you had to live with that asshole.”

It took me a second to realize they were talking to me. “Oh, it wasn’t too bad. He’s annoying, but he kind of grows on you after a while.”

Billie raised an eyebrow. “I hope he didn’t grow on you too much.”

“No!” I frantically tried to correct my mistake. “I know he’s an asshole. I didn’t mean that I like him or anything, just that I learned to live with him.” I eyed Aaliyah, trying to figure out if my comment took me out of her good graces. It seemed like a fragile thing with her, where a single misstep could have you falling out. She smiled at me while rolling up the napkins, making me relax.

“You don’t have much of a choice with dorms, do you?” Riley pointed out.

“Yeah, what’s your roommate like?” I asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from me and Sam.

“They’re fine. We don’t talk much,” Riley answered. “The only thing I hate is their fucking awful alarm.”

“I keep telling you to just-“ Aaliyah tried to cut in, but Riley interrupted her.

“Yeah, yeah, talk to them about it. I don’t want to upset the ecosystem, okay? You’ll get it once you get a roommate someday.”

The last part seemed kind of pointed. I suddenly felt uncomfortable as I watched Aaliyah stew in silence with a look that said she still thought she was right. I assumed this was how it felt to be at a friend’s house when they got into a fight with their parents.

Billie and Riley both ignored her look in a way that felt like it was a common routine for them. Instead, Riley asked, “Does anyone want to go out tonight?”

Aaliyah shook her head and declined. I did the same, so Riley and Billie started talking about where to go. I zoned out of their conversation, locking eyes with Aaliyah, who seemed to be doing the same. We sent each other awkward glances until Billie and Aaliyah’s phones chimed at the same time. They checked them and groaned.

“Jenny?” Riley asked sympathetically, and Aaliyah nodded.

“Who’s Jenny?” I asked curiously.

“Our boss,” Aaliyah explained. “We don’t like her.”

That much was apparent from their expressions. “From the dance studio?” I remembered.

They both nodded bud didn’t elaborate, just typed a few words and put their phones a way again.

After checking the time, I got up and announced, “I think I’m gonna go to the library.”

They looked surprised but started waving me goodbye.

“Hey, I’m helping organize this thing on campus tomorrow,” Aaliyah stopped me before I could leave. “You should come, I can text you the details.”

Was I imagining the giggles Billie and Riley seemed to be having trouble suppressing? “Sure, I’ll try,” I told her, even though I already knew there was a slim chance of me being able to make it.

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

Jamie and I had established a routine when I picked him up.

“How was your day?” I would ask in the most casual way I could.

He’d shrug his shoulders and say, “Fine.”

“Did you meet anyone nice?”

Shrug.

“Are you hungry?”

Shrug.

“Do you have any homework?”

Shrug and sometimes a “yeah”.

It was getting hard for me to keep a straight face during it. Any information I had on his feelings was mostly guesswork, but if they were anything like mine, we were heading towards impending disaster. We’d go home, he’d take a snack from the kitchen and shut himself in his room until it was time for dinner. In the beginning, I’d thought it was good to give him space, but now I wasn’t sure. I’d sit on the couch, trying to think of something to say to him while my nails dug deeper and deeper into my skin. Sometimes they were stained red when I pulled them away.

Today, as we were driving along the already familiar route, my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel as tightly as I could to get through the excruciating silence, a car in front of us suddenly stopped.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I slammed my foot onto the brakes, coming to a stop just before I hit their taillights. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” I turned to Jamie to ask if he was okay, but the words got stuck in my throat. He’d grabbed the handle in his panic, causing his long sleeves to fall, revealing cuts on his forearms that were all too similar to mine.

He immediately pulled them back once he saw me looking and turned his face to the window. I let him, allowing the silence to envelop us until we got to the Airbnb. As he immediately headed towards his room, panic started to swell inside of me.

“Jamie,” I blurted out, causing him to turn to me. I swallowed.

“What?” he asked snappishly when I simply stared at him, already impatiently retreating. Whatever I was going to say, I had to do it now.

“I thought you could help with dinner tonight,” I told him.

He didn’t look happy. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” I said more forcefully, a twinge of annoyance rising in my chest. “You live here, too. It wouldn’t hurt for you to start pulling some weight.”

He looked as taken aback by the sentence as I was, but it had its effect. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Let me know when you need me.” With that, he shut the door behind him.

I had him help me cut the veggies, which meant we were sitting across from each other at the dining table that doubled as the only workspace in the small kitchen. It reminded me of the few times Mom and John would go on trips and leave us alone. It would allow us rare occasions of moving freely throughout the house, and some of my favorite memories of us cooking actual good food were created then. I hadn’t known a thing about flavors or spices, but Google was a good teacher.

“Do you know how much longer we’re gonna stay here?” Jamie asked finally.

“We’ll see,” I told him. “I’m supposed to get an answer from a few places tomorrow.”

“Are they further away from school?” he asked.

“Some are, but you’ll be able to take the bus.” Not having to drive him every day was gonna take a shit ton off my plate. “Are you excited?” I prodded gently.

He shrugged. “It’ll just be nice to have a more permanent place, you know?”

I did. I couldn’t wait to have my own room again. “If you want, you can start looking for furniture,” I suggested. “You’ll need a new bed and stuff.”

He brightened. “I can pick stuff out myself?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, as long as it’s cheap. We can go through Ebay together.”

He looked kind of awed. “I thought we’d be driving back to Chicago to get the rest of our stuff,” he admitted.

I shook my head. “No. We’d need a bigger car, and we can just use the gas money for new furniture. Besides,” I added the last part darkly, “I don’t ever want to go back there.”

He was silent, then said in a small voice, “Yeah, me neither.”

I grabbed the last carrot, cutting off the ends before quartering it into four long pieces. “Do you feel better now that you’re here?” I tried, hoping he wouldn’t shut me out.

He finished cutting his pepper and started filling the pieces into the large bowl I’d placed between us. “I guess. I’m glad I’m here, with you.” It was the first time he’d said that, or anything particularly nice, since we’d gotten here, and it made my lips tug into a smile. “I miss Holden, though. He made school a lot easier.”

Holden. Guilt tugged at me as I thought of the way I’d treated him at the hospital. It was becoming clear that he’d been there for Jamie where I’d failed. “Have you talked to him?”

Jamie nodded. He didn’t have any veggies left, so he pulled a knee to his chest and watched me cut. “Yeah, we text every day.”

I didn’t know much about relationships, but that didn’t seem like the healthiest way to handle a breakup. “Have you made any friends at school?”

“Not really,” he admitted, confirming my fears.

The words tumbled out of me before I could think them through. “You know, I have some friends who work at a dance studio. Maybe they could set up a trial class if you want to check it out.”

He frowned. “You have friends?”

Ouch. “Yes, I have friends. What did I say about being mean?”

He actually looked apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… surprised. You’ve never had friends before.”

I decided to ignore the comment. “Do you want to try it out or not?”

He hesitated. “Like, an actual dance studio? Isn’t that gonna cost money?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I dismissed. I’d pick up fifty extra shifts per week if it meant Jamie getting out of his room.

His hesitant smile grew wider. “Okay, sure.”

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The thing Aaliyah organizing turned out to be a protest about something to do with housing. I saw her immediately, standing in front of the maybe fifty people and shouting into a megaphone.

When she saw me, she handed the megaphone to the curly-haired person next to her and jogged over. “You came!” She threw her arms around me.

“Of course!” It hadn’t been entirely by choice, as the protest was in front of the building I’d just had my English lecture in.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” She dragged me towards the crowd and started telling me names, none of which I remembered. None of them mattered anyway, because soon I was just following her and doing my best to blend into the crowd by copying the slogans everyone was shouting. Aaliyah was the opposite, routinely taking the megaphone again and starting her own chants.

When it was over, everyone started to disperse, some taking the signs with them. I doubted the protest had made much of a difference besides bothering a few students.

“What did you think?” Aaliyah asked me as we were leaving.

“I don’t know,” I replied truthfully. “I’ve never been to a protest before.”

“Really?” She seemed surprised, which made me feel somewhat embarrassed.

“Yeah, I’ve never really had the time,” I defended myself.

She was still skeptical. “Well, I think people should always make time for politics. This stuff directly affects you, you know. Like, we were protesting for lower rent, and you’re looking for an apartment right now.”

I knew that. I wasn’t dumb. “Well, what happens now?” I challenged her.

“What do you mean?” Her jewelry clacked as she looked up at me.

“I mean, you all came here, made some noise, and now you’re leaving.” I motioned to the now empty space, free of any sign that the protest had ever been there. “How does that change anything? Politicians and landlords won’t care, they’ll just ignore you.”

“Okay, I’ll admit this wasn’t necessarily the most affective thing I’ve ever done,” she relented. “Peaceful protests never are. But we’re organizing, which means we can set up other things. Like, we do mutual aid for unhoused people. And we’re raising awareness.”

I didn’t know what mutual aid meant exactly, but it did sound more meaningful. “That makes sense, I guess.”

She grinned. “How do you feel about discussing this more over coffee?”

“I don’t really drink coffee,” I admitted. “And I have to go to work. It’s probably not very busy now, though. You can come and hang out if you want.”

She agreed, which made it a lot harder to focus as she smiled at me from across the counter, sipping on her hot chocolate. It turned out she wasn’t much of a coffee person, either.”

“Excuse me, are you dumb? My son wants a cookie, just give him one,” a lady was yelling at me.

“Ma’am, as I said, we don’t sell cookies,” I explained again in my overly friendly customer service voice. “I can offer you muffins and a variety of sandwiches.”

“He doesn’t want a muffin, he wants a cookie,” she snapped. “Honestly, this generation knows nothing about good customer service. What kind of café doesn’t sell cookies?”

I shared a ‘what the fuck’ glance with Aaliyah, who surprised me by coming to my rescue. “Lady, he already told you they don’t sell them. Just go somewhere else. There’s like, three more cafés on this block.”

If looks could kill, Aaliyah would have been incinerated on the spot. The woman huffed and marched out the door, dragging her poor son with her. I sighed, wishing some billionaire would invent a substance to inject into people’s brains at birth to make them be polite. Forget government surveillance, customer service workers need chip technology more.

“Thanks,” I said to Aaliyah, walking over to her. We were now the only ones in the small space. Most customers ordered to go rather than sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the dimly lit room.

“No problem. Do you get people like her a lot?” she asked.

I grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

“How much are they paying you again?”

I still wasn’t used to her bluntness. “Uh, minimum wage,” I answered uncomfortably.

“Is that what your coworkers are earning, too?”

“I actually don’t know,” I admitted.

“You should ask around,” she said matter-of-factly. “Not asking is how they rip you off.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” I lied. I’d only been here a few months, I didn’t want to start rocking the boat. “By the way, how much do classes at your studio cost? They didn’t say anything on the website.” I braced myself for what was probably gonna be a number way out of my budget.

She let out a sigh of annoyance. “Yeah, Jenny thinks writing the prices will scare away potential students.” Okay, so they were definitely high enough for me to forget about it. My heart wrenched at having to explain that one to Jamie. Maybe I could- “Are you asking for your brother? ‘Cause I have an employee discount I get to use for one person. I could use it for him.”

I blinked, surprised at her offer. She definitely wasn’t joking, and she said it so casually I didn’t know how to react. “Really? That’s so nice, but you don’t have to do that. If you can only use it for one person-”

“Alex, it’s fine. Really.” She said it with a gentle smile that made her brown eyes light up. “I wouldn’t be offering if it wasn’t fine.”

That was probably true. In the short time I’d known Aaliyah, I’d come to understand that she was an incredibly honest person. “Okay, if you’re sure. How much would it be with the discount, then?”

She hesitated. “Um, well, how much can you afford?” she asked uncertainly.

I frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”

She took a long sip of her hot chocolate before answering. “I’m just trying to figure out what class would work,” she said when she finally set her cup down.

“Oh.” I was still a little confused but chuckled when she looked up at me. “You have some hot chocolate in your face.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together in the cutest way possible. “Where?”

“It’s like, on your upper lip.”

She dabbed at it with a napkin. “Gone?”

“…yeah.”

She frowned again. “Why did you hesitate?”

“I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did,” she accused. “Is it really gone?”

“Yes,” I promised. “I just wasn’t entirely sure.”

She studied me for a moment, then got out her phone and looked in the selfie camera. When she was satisfied, I was telling the truth, she put it away. “What were we talking about?”

“Class prices,” I supplied. “I think I could afford like… ten dollars a class?” Shame rolled over me as I told her the small number, but lying about what you could afford only tended to get you into worse positions. “I mean, that’s what I have right now. If I picked up some extra shifts, that would get me higher. Maybe to like, thirty.”

She was back to being matter-of-fact. “No, you don’t have to do that. There’s a contemporary class on Wednesdays that could be ten with the discount.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “How much is it usually?”

“Forty bucks. The discount is pretty high since I teach the class.”

“Wow. That would be great, obviously. Thank you so much.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m just glad I could help.” She smiled at me again, then moved her hand forwards so her fingertips were brushing with mine, making my heart lurch.

We were interrupted by the bell ringing as a string of students walked in. I went over to serve them, falling back into my customer service routine. It went on for the next forty-five minutes, barely giving me time to even glance at Aaliyah as more and more students filed in. Only one customer was from a different demographic- an older lady with a dog. Aaliyah watched me silently at first, then eventually got out her laptop.

“What are you working on?” I asked after the last customer left, wiping down the counter to clean up their messes. She lifted her laptop so I could wipe there, too.

“Just an info post about the protest for Instagram,” she answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She looked around. “Is everyone gone?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty quiet during class times,” I explained. “They usually come in waves during the breaks.”

“Oh. That’s sounds pretty nifty. It must be nice having it be so predictable.”

“I guess. It gets kind of boring sometimes.”

“Maybe I could visit you more often, then,” she said with a small smile.

I felt my cheeks warm. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

She propped an elbow on the counter, resting her chin on her hand. “How have you been, anyway? The stuff with your brother must have been pretty stressful. What’s his name again? Jamie, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It is, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. I always knew this was gonna happen.”

She looked uneasy. “You knew he’d end up in the hospital?”

“I knew he’d have to come live with me,” I clarified. “I didn’t see the hospital coming. I really fucked that one up.” I bit my lip to keep a straight face.

“You can’t blame yourself,” she said gently. “You didn’t put him there.”

I swallowed. I knew she was trying to help, but she didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. “I just wish I’d been paying more attention,” I explained with a lump in my throat. “I shouldn’t have misjudged the situation the way I did.”

“The situation with your dad?”

“With Jamie’s dad. We’re half-brothers, technically, but I haven’t seen my dad since I was three. He lives in California with my brother.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. The one paying for your tuition, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She switched her head to her other hand. “So, were you always taking care of Jamie? ‘Cause you said you were used to it.”

It was probably too early in our relationship to trauma dump this much, but since she was asking, I said, “Yeah, pretty much. He was an accident, and for some goddamn reason they decided to keep him even though they already hated having me around. But I don’t resent him or anything. I love him more than anything.” I could already feel the guilt rising and grabbed a napkin to wipe at the tears forming in my eyes. “Oh God, sorry. This is embarrassing.”

“It’s not!” she said immediately. “It’s fucking normal, especially with what you’re going through.” I expected her to add something about how men not crying had something to do with the patriarchy, but she seemed to realize this wasn’t the time for a sociology lesson.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m just telling the truth.”

I laughed. “Yeah, but I don’t mean just that. Thanks for everything. You barely know me, but you drove me half the way to Chicago, now you’re giving me the discount…” I grabbed another napkin to stop even more tears, but it was hopeless. They were falling uncontrollably now.

She smiled. “Well, the drive was an emergency. I wasn’t gonna let you drive drunk.”

She held my hand for a bit, then walked behind the counter to hug me. She was a good hugger, her arms wrapping tightly around my chest without making me feel suffocated.

“I’m probably getting tears in your hair,” I apologized once I could somewhat talk again.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I glanced at the clock, realizing it would be pretty embarrassing if a customer came in now. “I should probably go freshen up a bit before the next rush,” I told her, extracting myself from the hug.

“Are you sure you’re okay to keep working?”

“I mean, I don’t have much of a choice,” I pointed out.

“Fair enough,” she relented, though she didn’t look happy about letting me go.

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