#like. someone to come and organise and clean my apartment for me
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christmas stresses me out so much every year, like i just don’t know what to get people! and i always wanna make it super personal and handmade and whatever but uhhhh of course i never come up with the super personal handmade ideas early enough so it’s always a timecrunch and just. aaaaaa
this year i wanna make my parents a like.... warmth pillow/plushie each? idk what they’re called in english, but essentially it’s a pillow filled with cherrypits (or some other seeds or grain or whatever) that you put in the microwave to heat it up and it retains the heat well so great for sore muscles or period cramps or just. winter. anyway i bought a bunch of cherry pits so i’m gonna do that for my parents but what do i get my brothers? my grandma? no idea! every year i just! have no idea!
and yeah i could ask but then i’ll also have to tell them what i want and lmao, i do not know, iabsolutely have zero clue
#christmas#i love christmas! i love getting people gifts they love! but the process of getting there? really hard!#and it's every year! and everyone also has a birthday every year! like! eventually there's just no more things to gift!#anyway my brothers got handmade gifts last year so it's my parents turn this year#ugh and then they all have birthdays in january/february too except for my dad like. pls. i do not know what to get you#advice very much welcome btw#it's also like..... i don't really know their hobbies well enough to get them useful things for it?#plus they both have jobs they buy the stuff for their hobbies themselves already#i really should just ask#but again then they'll ask me!#and idk! all i want for christmas is very not material things!#like. someone to come and organise and clean my apartment for me#some executive function#oh i guess i'd love tickets to go see P!nk#but that's just one thing!#help#just don't talk to my brothers about our like. casual interests enough i guess#like concert tickets! great idea! does my older brother still like that band he mentioned once like 5 years ago?#i'm sure my younger brother watches youtubers and stuff bet he'd love some merch#who exactly does he watch? hell if i know
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are we just friends? - chaewon
5 times y/n and chaewon were "just friends" and the one time they weren't.
TAGS - non-idol! chaewon x non-idol! reader, friends to lovers, fluff, f!reader
WORDCOUNT - 2000~
WARNINGS - like two swears or something
A/N - not proofread, ending kinda rushed
(1)
“isn’t that chaewon’s sweater?” yunjin mentioned in passing as she sat down your bed, looking around and observing the walls.
you threw a quick glance to where she was, noting the baby blue sweater draped on the back of your chair. you hummed absentmindedly in response and ushered your roommate off your bed, swiping at the sheets.
“can you please get out of my room and go clean up yours instead,” you muttered while continuing to fix every nook and cranny. you turned to look behind you, and groaned at yunjin’s slow pace, pushing her through the doorway of your room.
“chaewon’s coming over in like,” you checked the watch on your wrist and your eyes widened at the sight. “she’s coming over in 10 minutes!” you exclaimed shocked, rushing around your apartment trying to organise everything.
yunjin simply let out a chuckle as she inched towards her room, “you act like she doesn’t come over every day. i’m sure she won’t mind the sight of people actually living here.”
“fuck off!” you said in response and continued to wipe down the counters of your small kitchen.
-
“y/nnie!” chaewon exclaimed in joy as you opened the door for her, widening your arms for a hug. she slipped into your hold, fitting into place exactly like how she always did. your body untensed during the hug and you held her tight, smelling her hair.
you pulled away after a short time, noting the slight look of disappointment on your friend's face.
“i forgot to give it to you yesterday before you left, but I’ll wash the sweater you gave me and give it back to you as soon as possible.” you said, leading chaewon into the living room.
“don’t worry about it. you can keep it.”
“really? I thought it was your favourite one,” you raised your eyebrow in pleasant shock and sat down on the couch, chaewon following suite, grabbing the remote to the tv.
“it’s fine, really. i like how it looks on you anyways.” her smile grew as she leaned her head on your shoulder. your face felt warm at the comment and you quickly switched the topic, snatching the remote, and scrolling through movies to watch.
you swore you could hear yunjin cackling through the thin walls of your apartment.
(2)
“would you be interested in coming with me to sakura’s party?” chaewon said, preheating the oven as you whisked together the ingredients in the bowl in front of you. “she mentioned that I needed to bring a plus one, and you're obviously my go to,” she finished. you could feel her eyes on the back of your head as you continued moving your wrist.
“i’d love to, but isn’t a plus one supposed to be someone you're interested in?” you stopped whisking to turn to look chaewon in her eyes. “i think I’d feel weird if I came along.” at the sound of your subtle rejection, the glimmer in chaewon’s eyes dimmed and she faced the other way again, putting the ingredients away.
“it’s just,” chaewon started, gripping the edge of the counter, “we’ve been going to events together for such a long time– even things that were usually for couples. it’d be so weird if I were to suddenly stop bringing my closest friend because this time it's a little more serious.” she vaguely bent her fingers at the word serious, deepening her voice for the effect.
you nodded along to her words in silence, testing your response in your head before replying.
“i’ll go.” she cheered in response before you could finish, and jumped up and down, fully turning around again to grab onto your arms.
“but,” you drawled, rolling your eyes at her actions. “next time one of these things happens you’re bringing someone else. you gotta talk to other people these days, chaewon. i won’t be here forever.” you smiled slightly at your words, but quickly frowned at the sight of chaewon’s shoulders slumping down, even as she tried to fake her own laugh.
you quickly grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at her face, causing her to slap you on the arm.
“yah! what was that for!” she growled, ready to retaliate.
“you just looked like an angry puppy. whenever you have that face i can’t help but swoon.”
the pink of her neck rose to her cheeks and her ears, so she continued to hit your body, muttering random things.
you had always hated making chaewon sad.
(3)
you checked the time on your phone before glancing back up at your friends. the three of you had been eating for two hours, and the time felt right to leave and go home.
“i gotta go guys, but it’s been really fun catching up again!” you wrapped the conversation up, gathering your things.
“aww. is grown up y/n gonna go to her girlfriend now?” aeri imitated a child’s voice as minjeong giggled alongside her, hitting her shoulder urging her to stop.
you raised your brow in annoyance at her voice and confusion of the statement, “who’s my girlfriend?”
“chaewon, duh.” aeri stuck her tongue out at you, saying it as if it was common knowledge as she continued packing up her things.
“when have you guys ever even met her?” you were totally confused now, trying to recall a past date where the two friend groups had collided.
“never. but you talk about her enough that we could practically write a whole biography on her.” minjeong grinned at her words.
you pinched your nose at your two friends' antics. there was no way that you talked about chaewon enough for them to fabricate her being your girlfriend. it was obviously an over exaggeration on their part.
“you guys are literally liars. there’s no way you even know who she is.” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. “you probably know her name because I’ve mentioned her before.”
“call us all the names you can construct in that little brain of yours, but we know her like the back of our hands.” aeri said, continuing to rile you up.
you soon left the restaurant with a throbbing headache because of aeri’s annoying self.
you’d need to ask your other friends if you really did talk about chaewon that often.
(4)
“why’d you bring me here again?” chaewon asked, grabbing onto your outstretched hand as you led her up the hill.
“can’t a girl just bring her best friend somewhere special?” you said lightly, continuing up and dragging chaewon along.
the both of you reached the peak of the hill, and you brought out a soft blanket from your backpack, laying it down on the grass.
“so this is what you prepare instead of studying for final exams.” chaewon stated, hands on her hips as she analysed the get up.
you chuckled and gestured down towards the blanket, “i took the time out of my studying to set this up. you can at least appreciate me and my efforts a little bit.”
“oh I definitely appreciate it. i think it’s cute.”
you laid down on the blanket, interlocking your fingers onto your stomach, gazing at the dark sky above as chaewon lowered herself down to the ground. her shoulders brushed against yours as she got comfortable, fidgeting with her feet.
the two of you stared up at the night, watching and searching for the stars. minutes passed, and chaewon’s breathing evened out, her body relaxing. the bright lights from the city drowned out the twinkling of the stars anyways, so you turned your whole body towards your friends, roving your eyes up and down her face. You propped up an elbow and laid upright onto your side, taking in chaewon’s features.
“why’re you looking at me like that,” a mumble fell from the girl’s lips, and she slowly opened her eyes, her words piercing the silence.
“no reason.” you fell back down onto your back, going back to staring upwards.
“y/n.”
“mmm.” you let out, trying to fuse into the blanket underneath you for warmth. chaewon noticed this and shifted closer, letting her arms wrap familiarly around your body.
“thanks for this.”
“of course chaewon. anything for you.”
you really would do anything to make chaewon happy.
(5)
“i wonder how it’d sound if it went like this.” your friend’s voice drifted from one side of the room to the other. you looked up from your schoolwork and directed your attention to the girl on the other side of the room. her brows were furrowed deep in concentration, and she tapped a pen to her lips, a pouty look to them
she continued to sing unknowingly, stopping to make tweaks, and continuing from where she left off. it was a ritual – you would bring the work you needed to catch up on to chaewon’s little studio room while she would practise her singing. something easy to fall into, somewhat of a tradition really. all your friends knew when it was “y/n and chaewon” time – or whatever they liked to call it, so they’d leave the both of you to your devices.
chaewon’s smooth voice brought you back to where you were, and you glanced back at the schoolwork you were doing not too long ago, to see scribbles and words relating to chaewon on your paper. a groan escaped your lips as you erased the illegible comments.
“you alright?” chaewon asked, pausing her melodies to push her glasses up her nose and glance in your direction.
“just fine.” you whispered back, throwing a thumbs up in her direction.
“we can leave early if you’d like-”
“no!” you shouted, covering your mouth in shock at your outburst. “no thank you, i like the quiet of this room.” in reality, you just wanted to stay with her alone a little longer.
she laughed a little and went back to her own work, fully in the zone again.
you dropped your pencil, and quietly turned in your chair to look at her. her hair seemed to be shining in the light of the room, and her whole body posture was loose, showcasing her love for what she was doing. it felt as though her aura was pulling you in. the thought of looking away from her– looking away from her when she was doing what she loved, looking so entranced, was not a thought that stayed in your mind. you’d rarely seen her this focused on what she was doing, and you selfishly wished for just a second, that all that attention was on you.
“are you sure you’re okay?” she looked back up to you, your eyes burning a hole into the side of her face.
“yep. just enjoying the view.”
she giggled and told you to shut up.
you are definitely going to watch her do this again.
(+1)
“y/n?” chaewon called to you as you held the door open for her, her music and notes in her hands. “i hope that wasn’t too boring for you. i wasn’t really talking to you that much this time.”
“oh no it’s alright! i quite enjoyed the peace and quiet.”
“are you trying to say i talk too much,” chaewon glared sarcastically, a slight smirk playing on her lips.
“who knows what i’m trying to say.” you shrug, falling into step with chaewon as you walked her to her apartment.
the evening sun was setting, but you were still able to feel its warm rays hit your face and body as you stepped forward. the comfortable silence enveloped you two, and you didn’t think much of it.
halfway through the walk, chaewon stopped walking and turned to face you, “look over here.”
so you turned, and the girl in front of you seemed to be looking more ethereal than ever. the sun was framing her face perfectly, her eyes were glimmering, and her mouth was wide with a smile. she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and just stood there, looking at you.
the thought that this was your best friend – someone who you had known for years – didn’t cross your mind as you closed the gap between you two, your lips connecting. you shut your eyes and leaned into the kiss, letting her take the lead. her papers were pressed between you guys, the sound of the rustling entered your ears, but it didn’t stay long as chaewon slowly moved back, opening her eyes slowly.
and as you reached an arm out to pull her back in, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you were a little bit in love with her.
A/N - this is so jank im so so rusty, please forgive me. I hope you enjoyed it though!
#chaewon x reader#le sserafim#chaewon imagines#kpop x reader#kim chaewon#le sserafim imagines#kpop gg#le sserafim x reader
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Zombie apocalypse AU pt. 2
some more hc's just because I can't get my mind off it
or is it more of a drabble?..
gn!reader x Hobie Brown
tw: amputation of a limb, a mention of suic!de at the end, suggestive stuff, but mostly fluff (don't ask me, that's how zombie apocalypses work)
As the winter passes Hobie finds himself feeling quite comfortable in his new place. Wether it's the Town that has more decent ways of existance than the one he previously lived in or certain someone who keeps his want to fuck off at bay, he starts thinking less about leaving and more about pros and cons of staying, and... Well, you.
The commune that everyone basically calls the Town is quite different from the one he used to be in before the big shit TM happened. The biggest difference is probably the place having not one allmighty leader but many of them, a dozen or so people trying to keep the place, this isle of civilization, from falling apart. The second difference - no big rules. The only ones are make yourself useful and don't stir up trouble. Considering that the place doesn't have too many people, those are enough to keep the place organised and safe. Any problems that come up always get solved by "the big bosses" who look after the Town.
And the more Hobie thinks of it, lives in it, the more content he gets with how things work. After all, he's got no problem with occupying himself or being useful. And he's not the one to start trouble if he's fine with how things are going.
And then there's you.
You who was helping him during his recovery. You who welcomed him so warmly at your place, and introduced to your parents if you still got them. You who let him use your bed until his leg was fine and he could move to the couch. You who told the big bosses you'll take care of him and he won't be any trouble and a waste of resources. You who helped him when he needed to get out and shared your warmth with him during those cold nights of hunting outside
Shit, since when did he start thinking so much about your warmth?
One thing after another, everything leads to Hobie starting to hesitate. And then one thing happens that pretty much seals his fate.
Could there be a more perfect moment? You and him are at the infirmary after coming back from another sortie. His cheek rests calmly in your palm as your other hand moves over his face, cleaning small bruises left after your little adventure. Bleak sunshine of the spring sun filters through the blinds on the windows, gently touching your skin. It's quiet, peaceful, you've gotten used to sharing both talks and comfortable silence with him.
Your head's been full of thoughts of Hobie's inevitable departure ever since the winter days had ended. You feel like any time now he can just seep through your fingers and disappear. And what's so bad about it, right? He's just a boy who was there to reach a helping hand when you were in need of one. But here's the thing: you and Hobie just... Click.
There's not too many people of your age among survivors to be picky about your friends. But ever since you've met Hobie you had this feeling that if you met him before the apocalypse, you'd be best friends for sure. He makes you feel less lonely, more cheerful, more seen. You can discuss anything without judging each other. And now you have to wrap your head around the fact that he'll leave soon? You want to respect his freedom, you really do, but... Yeah, no fucking way you can just let him go.
You barely notice the way your hands slowly come to a stop as the thoughts fill your head. And just when Hobie raises his eyes at you to ask why the hell did you stop caressing his face with your lovely hands your work, you find enough courage to meet his gaze and whisper a soft "Hobie, you should stay."
Your lips are so close and wouldn't it be just a perfect moment to kiss them? Because - hell, he wants that. But despite you being just a few inches away looking at him with such tenderness, you seem like you're not going to move any closer. So the best thing that comes to Hobie's mind is to smirk and say, "Sure thing, dove. Anythin' if I get a kiss fo' tha'."
And just like that it suddenly gets to you that all those nights cuddling in the woods you probably weren't the only one to get a little too comfortable. Because now behind that cocky expression on Hobie's face you see that he means it - you give him one kiss and he'll follow you to the Hell itself. But you turn into such a mess of joy and embarrasment that you're sure you'll fuck it up. So you ask him to wait till evening. To join him on his night watch. "Promise you won't leave 'till you get it." And he gives you a promise.
And when you join him on the town's wall at night, take his hand to let him know you're here, that's when you finally give it to him. Yes, you give it, because he lets you be the one to decide if you truly want it this time and doesn't try to take it himself. After all, it's in your best interest to convince him to stay, and a kiss is the price you must pay. But as soon as you do, your deal is sealed, and that's when Hobie shows you just how much he has to give back. He spins you two around to press your back into the wall and kisses you again and again till the pile of melting snow falls from a canopy above your heads making some noise and startling you.
You stay for a few more minutes to laugh and talk quietly and soon leave to get some rest. But you go home filled with joy because you know you both felt it that moment - none of you can leave the other now without leaving your heart with them.
At some point Hobie realises he has used your hospitality for long enough and after exploring less inhabitated parts of the Town for some time he finds himself a perfect spot. The house clearly has been rummaged through and looted more than once, but it isn't the thing that takes his attention. An impressively built tree house in the backyard though... Now that's more like it. Oh and a garage attached to the house? Maybe he can even go back to crafting stuff like he used to do before the world collapsed.
Hobie doesn't wait long before moving there and finally leaving your place. And though you miss him living close to you, now Hobie has a place of his own that suits him best. A place he can and will decorate to his liking. And a place where you finally can be truly alone with him. Perfect for nice and long makeout sessions with some music playing from your old headphones you share that certainly will turn into something more with time, like pawing at the skin under each other's clothes as you grind against each other and pant into other's mouth. Yes, a perfect spot that he doesn't mind sharing with you.
And hey, he still visits you, too.
What you've got between you two you're not in a rush to name. It's just kinda there, it has been since the moment you've brought Hobie to the Town. Though if before that kiss you could pass as a couple of really good friends that just seem to get along very well, after it happens your connection becomes painfully obvious to anyone in the Town. I mean, it's hard to misunderstand. You've been close before, but now you become nearly inseparable. Some people even start wondering if it's even possible to meet Hobie without you being nearby and the other way around. You sit there with him when he tries to build stuff in his garage. He helps you with whatever you do.
It is love, that much you know for sure, but whenever you try to explain it, you fail. Because labels and names don't really matter when the world slowly falls apart, and you feel too much anyway to try to define it with few words. Hobie, i believe, barely even tries. He just feels and enjoys it.
As for 'keeping himself useful'... Let's be honest, no one has ever expected Hobie to just settle and become a proper townie. And remember? He goes wherever you go, and you go scout sometimes, so of course he keeps you company. And it's hard to express just how much easier it becomes with him around. It's a former loner we're talking about here, he knows the best spots to hide, the best ways to avoid hungry undeads. Despite the outside still being dangerous and horrifying, with Hobie by your side your chances of survival really skyrocket.
And I imagine that you meet the rest of the spidergang that way. They're lost and scared and gods know how they've managed to survive this long, but one way or another you find them during your expeditions and bring them back with you. Just for them to see just how cool you and Hobie are and want to become a part of your scouting team, too. And hell does it feel like getting children with him...
And to the darker part that i've mentioned in the end of the pt 1
Of course with a job as dangerous as yours it's only a matter of time when some really bad stuff happens. Bad as in your hand getting bitten when you already think you've managed to escape that groaning mob of shamblers. As in Hobie immediately grabbing you and putting a tourniquet on your arm to stop this shit from spreading any further, quiet despair in his eyes because he knows exactly what must be done. Bad as in him taking a deep breath and sinking a big blade of his hunting knife into your flesh, aiming to separate the joint while other arachnokids try their best to keep you in place while he cuts off your forearm, only leaving behind a piece of skin to put it over the wound and sewing it up with a few sloppy stitches. It's imperfect, but hey, he did his best, and at least now he can bring the rest of you back to the Town, alive.
Hobie's fine if you're mad at him, he takes it like a champ, all of your "I'd rather if you just shot me" and "Great, you've made me fucking useless and made me live with it" things. He knows you'll thank him later, when it gets to you he has saved your life once again. He doesn't try to change your mind or make you less angry, he just waits and nods and helps you without a word whenever you encounter a task that used to be so easy when you had both your arms but that can be so troubling now. And he's really delicate about it, only helping when you almost get too upset you can't do it on your own. He lets you let your steam off on him, but he'll immediately offer you his vocal support and anything you need as soon as you let him know you need it or need him.
And yes, as soon as you get back he starts working on making you a new forearm. First it's just some quick and simple stuff, but hey, the boy's a genius, he'll manage to make you something really good. He'll be looking for better and better materials on your expeditions and experiment with them and i'm pretty sure he can come up with some really cool robotic stuff in the end.
And when your pain and shock and anger wears off and you realise just how much strength it took him to do the thing he did and then endure your behaviour, you apologise immediately. And just as quickly he forgives you. Because hey, when the world is at the brink of death, you can't let things like that just ruin a connection like the one you two have.
You just have to understand that if one day you turn and Hobie has to shoot you, the next thing he's shooting is probably himself.
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(english is not my first language i'm struggling lmao so sorry if there's mistakes)
pt. 1 | pt. 2
#across the spiderverse#atsv#atsv hobie#hobie brown headcanons#hobie x reader#hobie brown x gn!reader#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie x you#spider punk x you
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Battle Scars and Love Confessions
This is my own work! Please do not repost or translate without permission! Minors DNI or you'll be blocked, thank you!
Tachihara Michizou x Female Reader Smut
Word count: 3,208
Warnings: Pet names, cursing, female and male receiving oral, 69 sex position, probably slight OOC Tachihara
Y/N and Tachihara have been on a important mission for Mori scouting another ability organisation when Tachihara becomes injured trying to save his partner. As she helps patch him up feelings are revealed and it leads to a spicy evening spent together.
Y/N and Tachihara Michizou have been on an undercover mission for weeks scouting out a rival organisation for Mori however it turns out they've been being watched themselves. The organisations ability users landed an attack on the duo which led to Tachihara receiving a cut across his chest while trying to protect Y/N. The pair have finally made it to her apartment where they can tend to his wound.
"Fuck... Can you help me with this Y/N? It hurts so fuckin' bad" Tachihara grunts out as he applies pressure to his chest to stem the bleeding. "Shit shit... One second" She hisses out as she rushes them into her apartment, setting Tachihara down on her sofa as she gets out her first aid kit "I need to clean it alright? So it doesn't get infected" She looks at him for a moment before applying some alcohol rub to a clean cloth and starts to gently dab at the open wound.
The man sucks in a breath through gritted teeth "Shit... Thanks..." He sighs softly as he watches her work, feeling grateful for her help. His eyes wander over her body as she works, admiring how beautiful she was despite being covered in his blood. It made him feel even more helpless than usual. Y/N nods her response trying not to focus on the fact that her crush in half naked in front of her as she focuses on cleaning the cut as best she can without interrupting the start of the healing process "You doing okay? Other than you know... The obvious?" She asks carefully while working "Yeah," He answers honestly, not wanting to burden her any further than necessary. "It's just really painful." He winces slightly as she cleanses the wound.
"I know I'm sorry" She frowns as she finishes up, throwing the bloody rags into a rubbish bag before wrapping a clean bandage around his chest "You need to be more careful next time" She scolds him gently "Sorry" he mumbles quietly, embarrassed by his own brash actions. He tries to ignore the throbbing sensation from his wound, focusing instead on thanking her once again for taking care of the injury. She sighs softly before rubbing his leg gently from her place on the floor "You don't gotta apologise just... Please be more careful. I don't like seeing my best friend hurt" The woman before him smiles sadly "I will" He promises solemnly, trying to reassure her that he will not end up in this situation again.
Nodding she moves to throw away her used supplies "You gonna be able to get home in this state? I kinda feel like you should stay here tonight so you've got someone watching you" She suggests joining him on the sofa "Thanks" he says gratefully as he watches her move around the small apartment "You can take my bed and I'll stay here on the sofa" She grabs and spare pillows and blankets laying them down on the floor "There's no way I'm taking your bed! If I'm sleeping in your bed then you're staying with me!" He protests firmly, sitting up quickly grunting a little in the process at the pain in his chest and grabs her arm pulling her towards him "We both need some rest after our mission and all the bullshit we went through today" He tells her stubbornly.
She flushes at his words "We can't Tachi... You'd see me in a vulnerable state, What if I'm an awful person to sleep beside and I hurt you" She giggles nervously "Aww come on..." He whines playfully, leaning back against the sofa "It won't kill us to spend one night in the same bed" The ginger haired man winks at her teasingly, hoping to ease her worries about being alone with him in such close proximity. "O-Okay if you're sure you don't mind" Y/N gulps down her nerves at being in a bed with the man she's had a huge crush on since he joined the Port Mafia "I think I've got some of your old clothes stashed here somewhere from previous missions".
He nods happily as he waits for her to find something comfortable for him to wear, as he sits there silently watching her search through the closet he tries to ignore how hot she makes him feel "Do you have anything you want to talk about since we're alone?" He asks softly, curious about her thoughts on their relationship, he's never been sure if the woman before he reciprocates his feelings. She finally finds him some comfy clothes to sleep in and let's him change in peace before tilting her head to the side as she thinks once he rejoins her "Like what Tachi?" He smirks at her question, his heart skiping a beat when he sees her looking at him admiringly.
"I don't think I've got anything to ask you, how about you? Do you have any questions for me?" She smiles at him reassuringly. He looks at her blankly for a moment before huffing out a shaky breath "I was thinking about us"
"Us? What about us Tachi? I'm confused" She looks at him with her brows furrowed, he blinks at her confusedly before frowning "You truly don't know?" He clicks his tongue as he watches her nod "Y/N I LIKE you... I like like you" He stutters out turning away from her as he blushes a dark red he didn't think he would have to spell it out for her like that.
Her eyes widen slightly as she lets out a shaky breath "O-Oh... I didn't realise" She mutters as she blushes as dark as her male companion "Well that's good because... I like you too" She looks down away from his eyes as he takes a deep breath before looking back at her "Well that's a relief" He chuckles as he shakes his head "You gonna let me take you out when we're next free, like on a date?" He smiles at her hopefully. Y/N smiles blindingly at him and nods enthusiastically "I'd love to go on a date with you Tachi!". He grins widely at her enthusiasm before nodding "Good! Then we'll make sure to plan something special for our first date~" He winks at her playfully as she giggles watching the man she admires so much "Is it gonna be awkward that we're spending a night in the same bed?" She bites her lip as she looks up at him.
He laughs lightly at her comment "No way, we're both adults after all." He says with a smirk "Besides, who would ever want to sleep alone anyway?" He leans his arm against the edge of the sofa behind them and puts an arm around her shoulder affectionately pulling her closer "That's true I'd much rather sleep beside you" She curls her arms around his neck playing with the baby hairs that sit at the edge of his hair line. His face lights up as he hears this and wraps his other arm around her waist "So what are our plans tonight then?" He asks softly as he moves a hand down to rub her thigh gently while smirking at her "Well I suppose that's up to you Tachi" She grins mischievously at him before pulling his face down to gently kiss his lips.
He kisses her back deeply savoring every second of their passionate embrace before breaking off the kiss and smiling lovingly at her "What do you say we take this to the bedroom" He looks into her eyes to see her reaction "I'd really like that" She kisses him again slowly and passionately as she climbs into his lap to deepen the kiss, Tachihara can't help but release a small hiss as she bumps against his chest but recovers before Y/N can realise she momentairly hurt him. He returns her kiss eagerly wrapping his hands around her waist as they continue making out on the couch until finally he lifts her up and carrys her to the bedroom where he pulls away leaving her breathless.
Tachihara pushes her back into her bedroom wall sliding himself in-between her legs as he kisses her roughly stroking his left hand along her side as his right hand holds onto the wall as she grunts softly at the pressure against her back "Fuck Tachi... I want you" He groans softly at her words as he feels himself start to harden against her "Fuck baby... You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say those words" Y/N nods knowing she feels exactly how he's feeling and grips the back of his head pulling him back to her lips as she slips her tongue into his mouth while pushing her clothed pussy against his groin, he moans softly as he feels her press herself against him.
Tachihara wraps his hands under her thighs and lifts her off to wall to throw her gently onto her bed "I'm going to have you screaming my name by the end of tonight" He smirks devilishly at her from the edge of her bed. He stands above her looking down lustfully as she beckons his over to her with her finger. Tachihara crawls onto the bed and stops when he's finally on top of her with his thighs caging her own in. Y/N reaches her hands up to his shoulders caressing his soft unmarked skin "I've wanted you for so long Tachi".
He leans forward kissing her deeply before breaking the kiss and staring deep into her eyes "You're mine now, forever." He says firmly before moving lower to kiss her neck gently. She smiles and repeats his sentiment back "I'm yours and you are mine Tachihara Michizou" She tilts her head backwards a little to give him more room as he starts to gently suck marks into her neck in-between kisses marking her as his own while she keens for him. He continues to mark her body slowly making sure that every inch of her was marked by his presence leaving no part untouched or unclaimed. His cock twitches slightly in anticipation of claiming her completely.
Hayley's upper body is now littered with bruising marks and soft bites as she pants softly "Stop teasing me" She whines out to him while spreading her legs open and pulling at her t-shirt, he chuckles lightly biting down on her shoulder blade "Am I taking too long baby?" He teases her playfully as he starts to strip her body of her clothing then removing his own. He appreciates her body for a moment eyes lingering on her pert nipples before leaning forward to take one of her sensitive buds into his waiting mouth
As his lips wrap around her hard nipple she lets out a soft whine at the contact "Please Tachi" She threads her fingers through his hair while he hums happily against her nipple as he licks and sucks at it sending shivers down her spine. Her pussy gets wetter by the second from just having her breasts played with. The feeling of being teased drives her crazy. He pulls away smiling at her "So needy aren't we?" He asks with a smirk stretching across his lips, she nods her head while pouting at him "Just want you" She wraps her arms around his neck, pushing him back on his haunches as she climbs into his lap.
He grins widely as she straddles him wrapping her legs around his waist. He looks up at her capturing her lips in an aggressive kiss full of tongue and heat pushing all of his untold emotions into her through their kiss, Y/N grips his neck to steady herself as she starts to grind herself down against his covered member "I can't wait to feel you baby" He groans loudly as he feels her grind against him. It sends chills throughout his entire body. He reaches up grabbing onto her hips holding them still so he can continue kissing her deeply. He breaks off their kiss panting heavily so he can slide her panties down, giving her needy pussy a little tap against her clit.
Her hips jerk slightly at his ministrations as she rolls his boxers down taking a second to admire his pretty cock springing out to meet her, precum already starting to seep out the head of his cock, his breath hitches as he watches her gaze over his length. A small moan escapes him as she gently wraps her hand around his length giving him a few short pumps "Who's teasin' now Y/N" He grunts as he tips his head back at her light touches, Y/N then suddenly climbs out of his lap to lean down and give his length soft kisses and licks.
Tachihara moans softly as he watches her tease him. He places one hand behind her head keeping her close as he lets out another low growl at her actions "Fuckin' tease" He mutters out as she smirks against his throbbing length, she moves herself back up to face him and gives him a light peck on his lips "I have an idea baby if you'll let me" She bites her lip and waits for his response. He smiles into her lips and nods "Whatcha thinkin' baby?" The woman in front of him smirks as she pushes him down onto the bed leaning over him as she gives him one last kiss before turning over to have her back facing him. She bends herself down as she hovers her pussy over his face while his cock bounches up to reach the edge of her face.
He grins as his hands wrap around her thighs pulling her pretty pussy closer digging his nails into her plush skin "I like how you think babygirl" He gives her a moment to adjust her position before he drives his tongue against her sticky lips, Y/N gasps as she feels his hot tongue prod against her waiting soppy pussy before she's reminded of her position when Tachihara pushes his hips up prodding her mouth with his length.
Y/N lets her tongue dip out of her mouth as she slowly starts to lick against his length teasingly before wrapping her lips around the head of his cock sucking greedily, his breath hitches as he feels her lips wrap around his shaft, he groans loudly feeling himself growing in her mouth "Mmm fuck yeah..." He pants heavily as he tries to keep control of himself from being too eager to please her. His tongue licks quickly against her slit, he licks up the entirety of her pussy before reaching her throbbing clit.
Her body shutters as she finally feels his tongue brush against where she really needs him, she hums lightly against his throbbing head letting the vibrations hit against his skin before she starts to take his length into her waiting mouth, licking against the underside of his cock while pushing her hips back against his face desperately. He moans softly as she takes as much of his thick cock into her mouth as she could he could feel her throat muscles tighten around his shaft as she sucked him off eagerly wanting to please him so badly.
His tongue slides harder against her hole dipping inside before licking up around her clit as he circles his tongue against her little bud making Y/N whine and moan against his length increasing her pace as she bobs her head up and down, the man beneath shudders slightly as he hears her whimper and moan loudly onto his dick, he felt her throat tighten even more around his shaft as she bobbed faster on his cock trying to get every last drop of cum out of him, his hand grips her plush thighs even tighter as he pulls her as close to his face as he can while he devours her sensitive pussy.
Tachihara starts to leave red marks on her pretty skin and he grips her so harshly getting pussy drunk on the taste of her essence, Y/N can hardly handle the sensations as her thighs start to shake from the stimulation. As she slobbers on his length she feels his cock throb against her throat while he thrusts up to fuck her face as best as he can from his position. He groans loudly as he feels her choke on his cock, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as he slammed himself deeper into her tight wet mouth fucking her face hard as he can feeling himself getting close to blowing his load as he pumps his hips faster while she takes it like the obedient little slut she is.
Y/N can feel his cock throbbing harder and faster once he starts to near his end as she realises he's close she feels him suck her clit into his mouth leathering wet licks and sucks to her abused button with determination to make her cum with him. He moans loudly as he feels her body tense up on top him, he knows that if he doesn't stop rocking his cock into her mouth soon then he would shoot his load straight down her throat, but instead of slowing down he keeps thrusting until finally he can hold back no longer and releases his hot sticky seed deep down her throat as she gulps every last drip down her slutty throat, making him moan loudly "Y... Y/N!".
She moans at his taste as she glady licks his sent cock clean, moaning loudly as he works her clit harder and faster as her thighs tremble from at attention "C'mming! I'm cumming Tachi, don't stop fuckin' me with your tongue!" She cants her hips against his face uncontrollably as she grinds her pussy down against his tongue as he works her through her organism, gripping her shaking thighs and slowly licks her throbbing slit as she comes down panting heavily.
He smiles happily as he hears her moans, knowing how much pleasure this was giving her, feeling her juices run over his lips as he continued licking her pussy, tasting her sweet nectar as he felt her orgasm wash over her, squeezing his head between her legs as he licked her cunt making sure not to miss any of her sweet juices, greedily sucking it all up.
She moans as she flops down on top of him while catching her breath "I've never cum so hard in my life" She giggles as she notices her limbs are starting to feel heavy from keeping the position up for so long. He chuckles softly as he pulls away her pussy, gently rolling her onto the bed before laying next to her still breathing heavily while looking at her and smirking.
"You didn't think we were done did you babygirl?" He bites his lip as he pulls her close to his body "I'm nowhere near being done with you" She can't help the shiver that licks up her spine with anticipation as she smiles at her lover.
Tonight was going to be a long one and she couldn't be more excited for it.
#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd smut#bsd#chuuya x reader#bsd imagines#bungou stray dogs#Tachihara Michizou#tachihara michizou bsd#port mafia#tachihara michizou x reader#bungo stray dogs#bsd headcanons#tachihara x reader#tachihara michizou#tachihara bsd#Tachihara smut#Tachihara Michizou smut#Tachihara Michizou x reader#Bungou Stray Dogs smut#bsd hunting dogs#Bsd hunting dogs smut#bsd x y/n#Tachihara might be a little OOC I do apologise#I lust for this man so fucking much 🔥🥵
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the lost letter {i.j}
plot: Indy left for a mission a few weeks ago and as you're tidying your shared apartment, you find a letter from him.
character; indiana jones x plus sized female reader
Part of my Plus Size History Professor x Indiana Jones series and part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!
It's tucked away, forgotten about in a pile of books and coursework that Indy had been marking before setting off on his new adventure. Coffee spilled over it and abandoned half way through probably due to him spilling coffee over it. You'd only found it through cleaning his desk, clearing and organising his work for him so that when he comes home, it's neat and tidy for him.
You'd been cleaning to try and distract yourself from missing him. It was hard when Indy was away working overseas because not only did you miss him, you worried constantly because you had no way of knowing if he was okay or not. The stories he'd tell you when he came home, scraped and bandaged up, sounded horrific and it sounded as though he came close to dying a lot more than you cared to think about.
People use work to distract them from missing someone but how could you be distracted when your history students asked you about him all the time?
Professor, where's Doctor Jones?
Hey, Professor, where's your boyfriend? He off adventuring again?
Doctor Jones isn't in so I'm wondering if I could get your thoughts on my essay that I'm writing for his class? You know him best so I figure that you're the next best thing.
Yeah, it wasn't easy when you worked and lived with your boyfriend. You just hoped that he'd be okay, that he'd come home. He was due back in two weeks. Sometimes he'd manage to call if things were going to take longer, sometimes he'd show up a week earlier than planned; there was no strict pattern that his adventures followed and that was something you hated about his adventures. You just wished for some sign that he was okay.
And then you happened across the letter.
You would've just tidied it away had it not been for the scrawl of your name at the top of the page.
Dearest (y/n),
You're sleeping as I write this. I didn't want to wake you but I couldn't sleep - preparing for Kenya - so I thought I'd write this for you. I don't know if I'll even show you this so there might be no point of me writing this but who knows?
I know that you're worried. I know that you hide a lot of those worries from me, you don't want me to feel guilty about leaving you, but I think I'd actually prefer if you spoke to me about them more. Maybe I could help put some of those worries to rest, maybe I'd be able to help settle the war that you fight in your head. I suppose I'd like to better help you but I'll be honest, I don't know where to start which is why I'm writing this. Maybe the mad ramblings of a College Professor will soothe all of the worries you have.
Can I just say that you look adorable when you sleep? I just walked in to get my glasses and you're curled up, snoring and drooling onto my pillow. Beautiful.
You mean everything to me. You are worth so much more than you think you are and I just adore every single part of you. I love who you are; I love you compassion for others, I love how much you care not only for your loved ones but for your students, your friends, strangers. There are so many good things about you, (y/n), please take the time to realise these. You are capable of so much and I am so proud of you for all that you've accomplished with your career, it's an honour and a joy to watch you thrive. I love your confidence, the way you aren't afraid to be yourself, the way you just shine in everything you wear and do; you are incredible.
Whilst I'm away, please try not to worry too much. I know that you will but please try to remember that I'll be okay. Before I met you, I was reckless and stupid, to be honest. I looked death in the face more times than I care to admit to you and I laughed. I had nothing to lose. Now, I have everything to lose; my job, my reputation, my career but most importantly you. I promise you that I won't do anything stupid or reckless and I won't actively seek out trouble though it always seems to find me. I promise that I will try my hardest to stay safe. It should be a relatively easy job but you know how these things go.
I can't guarantee my safety and I can't promise that I'll come home in one piece but I can promise that I will do anything to get back home to you, that I'll do everything in my power to return home to you. I give you my word. I love you, (y/n), and -
He had written something else but the coffee spillage smeared them and you couldn't make it out clearly but you'd read enough now. Your eyes were teary but not from sadness; it was from sheer happiness. Indy hadn't told you about this letter and you would've probably never had found it had you not been tidying but my god, you were so happy to have found it. The relief you felt from this letter was immense. He couldn't promise that he'd return safely but you had his word and right now, right now that was enough.
Over the course of the night, you read the letter, examining every line and dot trying to soak it into your brain and etch it into your memory. It brought such a comfort to you, seeing his handwriting, seeing his heart (and coffee) poured onto the paper for you to see... You wished that Indy would return home to you now but for now, this lost letter was enough to get you through the next two weeks.
#one shot#secrets out#secrets out series#plus size reader#plus size series#plus size#indiana jones x reader#indiana jones#indiana jones imagine#indiana jones x you#os#prompt#secrets out saga
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baby, please - part 4
You were just coming down with something, that was all. The flu, food poisoning...or something...
Warnings: Throwing up, so emetophobia warning. Like one or two mentions of drinking alcohol. Mentions of failed protection. Spot the accidental FNAF reference. Proofread, again, lazily.
Word count: 4,479
F!Reader, no use of Y/N.
These are your texts.
These are Craig's/Tinder's texts.
Part 3 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 5
Santiago was gone by the time you woke up the day after your date. You hadn’t expected him to be there, at all. You’d have been more surprised if he had stayed for breakfast.
He at least tidied up after himself, putting back the plant pot he had knocked over, although it looked like he had just shoved the plant back in with the way it was tilted on an angle. You snorted before grabbing the pot, quickly fixing it up and giving your poor peace lily some water.
You’d had fun last night. Even though you’d both agreed that this was probably not going to lead to anything else and was a one-time deal, you would probably meet up with Santi again if the opportunity arose. He was a good laugh, and the perfect gentleman, even if he did knock over your plant.
Not to mention he was insanely good looking and gave you the best orgasms of your life.
Giggling at the memories of last night, you made yourself some coffee, intending to catch up on a few emails as you made your breakfast. Sundays had always been your day to clean and tidy up your apartment, usually to feel fresh and organised for the week ahead. You had no plans to leave today; you’ll prepare some stuff for work in the afternoon, so you had a head start when you go in on Monday, but your plan was to lounge around and watch Netflix.
But first you needed to shower, because you had all kinds of funk going on.
Emily cornered you the minute she stepped into the office on Monday. She demanded you tell her how well your date went with Santi since he didn’t ‘give anything up all weekend’.
You shrugged at her. “It was fun, we had a good time.”
Emily waited for you to say more, but when she was met with silence, she waved her hands at you frantically. “Is that it?”
You snorted. “I don’t know what you want me to say, we went out, we agreed we weren’t looking for anything serious, and that was that.”
“So my match making didn’t work? You went out, ‘had a good time’, and nothing came from it?”
“Let’s be honest, Emily, I’m probably never going to see Santi again.”
One week
The launch was weeks away, and your week was filled with meetings, and looking into getting new clients on board. You had tried reassuring the other teams in your office that there will be potential but some of the more difficult members of your office didn’t want to listen to you. They had already started headhunting.
It had put you in a bad mood that your co-worker’s didn’t seem to have any faith in you, despite your reputation and how long you had been there. You knew what you were doing, you weren’t an idiot. You studied for four years to get where you were today. By midday, you had already plugged in your earphones, asserting that no-one talks to you for the rest of the day.
As it turned out, it was another late lunch day for you, you sitting yourself down to eat when everyone was packing up to leave. It was Friday, and everyone was chatting about their weekend plans. You had had plans with Beth but she had cancelled earlier that morning due to a ‘wedding emergency’. She hadn’t elaborated and you hadn’t asked, just sent her your love and help if she needed anything.
You relax your shoulders, almost groaning at the ache in them. There was a lot going on, and you hadn’t had the chance to unwind at all. Emily had been pestering you again about Santi. You told her that you just weren’t interested in anything more, and neither was he. If she thought there was someone else you should meet, then sure, you would give it a go, but she didn’t seem to understand that you had both wanted something casual.
Also, you really needed to get your AC fixed. It was getting warmer as the summer was approaching, and you couldn’t keep going the way you were. You told yourself you will be at home next weekend and get your AC fixed. You made a mental note to look up electricians when you get home.
Two weeks
God you were tired. And moody. Your period was due in a few days, so it must have been that. You better check your supplies for when you go to the store tomorrow. Not only that, but work was running you ragged, and it was really taking it out of you, and the hot weather was not helping. Thank God it was the weekend, and you were finally getting your AC looked at.
You were thinking about your date with Santiago and decided that you were going to download Tinder again. You had fun with Santi, so why couldn’t you have fun like that again? It didn’t have to be anything long term, but if you happened to meet someone who wanted a little more, you would give it a go. You were open to anything in the end.
You were scrolling left and right through Tinder when the electrician arrived. He had lots of good reviews on Google, and he seemed really reliable. You had contacted him as soon as you could, and he replied within an hour. He turned up when he said he would, and he’d even fixed your AC an hour after arriving.
As you paid him and thanked him profusely as he left, a notification went off on your phone. It was a match with a guy called Craig, and he’d already messaged you. You grinned and snorted at the cheesy pick-up line.
Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?
Wow. Think I might need some nachos for all that cheese.
I’m sorry. My buddy and I have a bet going on to see who would get a response from the worst pick up lines and you just won me $50 so thank you!
Glad I could help. Was that the only reason you swiped right?
No, you’re genuinely beautiful. The bet was just a bonus.
You raise your eyebrow and grin.
Well, aren’t you just a charmer?
I aim to please. So what is it you do for a living?
You talked well into the afternoon; Craig was in fact charming, and a sweetheart. And he was a fan of cheesy pick-up lines, and not just for bets. You gave him your number later in the afternoon, and promptly forgot about Tinder.
Three weeks
You were late.
For work and your period.
But it was fine, your body was never like clockwork. Sometimes you were late and sometimes you weren’t. There wasn’t any reason to worry, it was only a few days. It was probably from the adrenaline of the product launch.
What you were going to worry about was the fact that traffic was ten times worse than it usually was and you were absolutely about to get a severe warning from your boss if you didn’t start moving soon. The launch was tonight, and you had so many things to still finalise. You sensed you were going to be spending your day in the office going at 100 miles an hour.
You called Emily to tell her to get started without you, that you had all the faith in the world that your team could make the right decisions and hold for the fort until you got there. At least then no-one would be behind and on schedule.
You made it into the building ten minutes late.
“You’re late,” Harriet, your boss, muttered to you with her arms folded across her chest as you practically run into your workspace.
“Yeah, sorry, traffic was terrible. Emily, where are we up to?” you ask, throwing your bag and jacket on your chair.
“Uh…” Emily read through her notes, her brow furrowed before nodding. “We are good to go on the slideshows, the banners, and the drink display. We’re still waiting on the DJ and the food itself is fine, it just the waiting staff - ”
“The waiting staff? They confirmed weeks ago!”
“The flu has been going round and they’re trying to replace the ones they have off.”
You let out a groan of frustration before taking Emily’s notes from her. “You get in touch with the DJ, I’ll sort out the servers. Anything else?”
“Yeah, the mechanic for the wraps on the cars have sent over their invoice,” Emily bit her lip. “I don’t think they’re sending them out until it’s paid.”
“Send it over to accounting, let the client know, and get on it ASAP. I can’t believe this is all happening on launch day!” you snap, already punching in the catering company’s number to ask them for an update.
Turns out, half of their workforce was out of commission because they had been hit with the flu and it had spread like wildfire. You tried not to lose your temper, it wasn’t their fault, and it wouldn’t be your company that was affected by it either. You told them you understood, that if they could send whoever they could for the event, that would be great.
You slammed the phone down and searched up any temp agencies that may have had any servers available. You contacted a fair few, leaving messages and sending emails, you could do nothing but wait and move on to something else that required your immediate attention. Of course, the client had some last-minute changes to the flyers that were also finalised weeks ago and were sent to print last week. You had wanted to put your foot down on that one, but queried with the printer company anyway, to see if they could print out over five hundred flyers and have them ready for collection by that afternoon.
By some small miracle, they said they could for an extra cost and if you sent over the prints in an hour.
You got on the phone with the client and made the adjustments then and there. With the completed flyers accepted and checked off, you sent them over to the printing office with minutes to spare.
Then one of the temp agencies came back to you to say they did have some spare servers and they could work that evening. You thank whatever God is up there that someone was on your side that day!
You send an update in the office team chat, where Emily also confirmed the DJ is already on the way from Orlando. His gig that morning had ran over and he hadn’t been able to confirm back to Emily’s email regarding the launch, but he was now on his way.
You sighed, closing your eyes and sitting back in your chair, rubbing at the headache in the middle of your forehead. You needed a drink.
“We did it!” cried Emily. “We fixed the problems!”
“Only just,” you muttered, your eyes still closed. “I could do with more servers.”
By the end of the day, another catering company managed to send over a few more servers. You sent the invoices over to accounting, the last of your jobs for the day over.
You made it home with less than an hour to get ready for the event. You were feeling a little woozy, probably from the mess that was today, and how you hadn’t really eaten. You make yourself a quick dinner, just some spaghetti in a tomato sauce, and shower while the sauce was cooking.
Once you were ready, and looking fabulous, you left your apartment, not before you sent a quick photo of yourself to your friends, sending over ‘Final night! 🎉’. You were praised with congratulations and love hearts from your best friends.
You even got a text from Craig, which caused you to smile.
Well done, superstar! Let’s celebrate together soon.
You sent him a quick text back thanking him and telling him you’d definitely take him up on his offer as a notification for your Uber came through.
Making your way into the large venue, Emily was already shoving a drink of champagne in your hands. “We did it! We worked our asses off and nearly crashed and burned, but we did it!”
You give her a large smile, and cheersed her own champagne glass before taking a gulp. You grimaced at the taste. “We spent all that money on marketing, but couldn’t afford decent champagne?”
Emily pulled a face as she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I know. It’s awful, isn’t it? I told Harriet it was worth buying the better stuff, but no.”
You frowned before placing the champagne on a table, intending to leave it there. You took a deep breath, your stomach doing somersaults. The spaghetti you made earlier wasn’t sitting well, and the champagne had really turned your stomach.
It was probably the bad champagne.
The head of the sport’s drink company made his way up to the stage and tapped into the microphone to gain everyone’s attention. “Hello everyone! It’s amazing to see you all tonight for the launch of our product…”
You zoned out, trying to focus on breathing. You did not feel good, and as the crowd went silent to listen to the ‘big boss’, you tried your best to listen, but you couldn’t from the ringing in your ears. You can feel the beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you turn to Emily, not really looking at her as you discreetly excuse yourself. Panic sets in as you realise you can't hold it in any longer. You rush towards the nearest restroom, desperately hoping you make it in time.
Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can hear the distant hum of the speech fading away as you step into the bathroom. You're grateful that it's empty, providing you with a moment of privacy. You lock yourself inside a cubicle and drop to your knees, gripping the cold porcelain toilet bowl. As you lean over, Emily’s voice echoes through the empty bathroom. Figures she followed you, noticing your sudden discomfort. You felt the embarrassment flow through your body, but you know that she's only there to lend a helping hand, if you needed it.
The wave of nausea intensifies, and you barely have time to pull your hair back before a rush of the earlier spaghetti emits from within you. The taste is bitter and acrid, burning your throat as it leaves your body. Then you hear a knock on the door, followed by Emily’s gentle voice, muffled by the bathroom's walls. She asks if you're alright, if there's anything she can do to help.
You manage to compose yourself enough to respond, your voice shaky and weak. "I...I think I'll be okay," you say, your words interrupted by a sudden gag. "Sorry, just...just give me a minute."
She doesn't leave, though. Instead, she waits outside your stall. Her presence makes you feel even more embarrassed at this unexpected moment of vulnerability. You wanted to tell her to go back to the party, to not worry about you, that you’ll make your way back in a moment, but words escape you when you needed them the most.
As the nausea subsides, replaced by a lingering queasiness, you take a deep breath and rise to your feet. You grab some toilet roll, dabbing your mouth before throwing it in the toilet. You flush it, feeling as though the moment has finally passed and it was over. Slowly, you unlock the door and step out, finding Emily waiting for you with a concerned expression.
You avert your gaze and walk past her, washing your hands.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes filled with empathy. “Do you want some water?”
“I’ll get it, thanks Emily.”
You clear your throat as you shake your hands of excess water before grabbing a few paper towels. You dry your hands and throw them away, before turning to Emily. You couldn’t find the right words, so with a weak smile, you both return to the event.
Four Weeks
“Just take a pregnancy test,” Courtney said, shrugging. “I’m shocked you haven’t yet, honestly.”
Now that you suddenly gained an awful lot of free time as the launch was over, you and Courtney arranged to meet up a week after. Your newest clients were more relaxed, really only happy with the updates to their social media, and a few print outs every now and then. So this gave you the perfect opportunity to gain some advice about the awful ‘case of the flu’ you’d been complaining about all week.
You’d been talking about it since you puked at the launch (and pretty much every day since). And you were constantly tired, and hungry. And just a ball of emotion. You’d thought about the other explanation, obviously, but you can’t be pregnant. You used protection each time. You couldn’t be.
You still decided to skip on the wine with your meal.
“Don’t you think I’m overthinking it, just a bit?” you ask, almost rolling your eyes. “It’s not weird for someone to sometimes be late on their period.”
“And to throw up at their important work event,” Courtney said, raising an eyebrow at you and throwing you a pointed look. “Then every day afterwards. Did you not use protection?”
You wanted to shout at her. She’s talking to you like you’re an irresponsible teenager, and not a woman who was nearing thirty. “Of course, I did.”
Courtney stared at you with a stern look on her face. “So rule it out then, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that it’s impossible for me to be pregnant because I always use protection, so there must be something wrong that’s causing this.”
“Yeah, probably a foetus,” muttered Courtney sarcastically. “All condoms have a 2% fail rate.”
You groaned, burying your head in your hands. You had to admit, it was a bit weird, and it was the only logical explanation at this point. The ‘flu’ symptoms weren’t wearing off. You were only digging yourself a deeper hole if you didn’t approach it now. “What do I do?”
“Whose would it be?”
You peek over your fingertips at your friend, who was raising an eyebrow at you. You had already thought about this since the last person you slept with was - “Santiago. The ex-army guy from a few weeks ago.”
“Not this doctor guy you’ve been talking to?”
“Craig? No. We haven’t even met yet. We have a date next week.”
“Do you think that Santiago lied about using condoms?”
“No, I…” you grimace, your cheeks warming. “I watched him put them on and throw them in the trash.”
Courtney shrugged. “Well then…I guess you’ll just have to pee on a stick and find out.”
You sigh, before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom and throw up. Again.
Five Weeks
You’d put it off long enough. You were very late for your period, the symptoms hadn’t subsided, and you couldn’t avoid it anymore. You had to take a pregnancy test.
You had cancelled your date with Craig, apologising profusely. You came up with the excuse of the flu and he was very understanding but you noticed he didn’t mention rescheduling. You felt slightly disappointed, but it was fine. You had other things to worry about.
You made your way to the nearest CVS, taking a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart before walking inside, straight to the family planning aisle. Your eyes widened at the brands. Which ones were most reliable? Why are they so expensive? Aren’t babies expensive enough? And why so many different brands? Don’t they all do the same thing?
You would ask Gabrielle, but you didn’t want to bother her with something like this.
You bite your lip as you walk up and down the aisle. ClearBlue is trustworthy, wasn’t it? And it was a well-known brand. And you were sure they had digital tests as well as regular tests. But you know that Clinical Guard is good too. And First Response. Or should you check –
"Are you okay, sweetheart?“
You jump at the sudden interruption, turning to look at the older woman who was wearing a pharmacy coat, her auburn hair pulled back in a bun as her green eyes looked at you a little concerned. You blink before shaking your head quickly and gave the woman a small smile. "Sorry. I'm...which brand would you recommend?"
The woman looked at the pregnancy tests before letting out a hum. "If you want my honest opinion, they all are the same, just have different names. But it's up to you."
Biting your inner lip in slight frustration, you sigh through your nose, looking back at the tests before grabbing a ‘triple check’ ClearBlue box, and a First Response box. You turn to the woman, who smiled at you before leading you to the counter. You pay the (more than you had planned to pay) fees for the tests. The pharmacist looked at you as she tilled in the amount. "You were stood there for a while before I came over. I thought there was something wrong."
You let out a nervous laugh, shrugging a shoulder. "Well...I mean, I could be pregnant, so..."
"We've all been there," replied the pharmacist. "Whatever the result, I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Thanks," you replied, grabbing the plastic bag and leaving the store, making your way back to her apartment quickly, almost feeling the anxiousness of being found buying pregnancy tests (as if you weren’t an independent, fully grown adult).
It seemed to take longer to get back to your apartment than it did to get to the CVS. You eventually made it back, closing and relocking your apartment door as you practically ripped the tests from the plastic bag, speed walking to the bathroom, and reading the instructions on the First Response tests.
"You can't pee on a stick wrong, right?" you muttered to yourself, before shaking your head. "Well, Cassie in high school managed to do it wrong. Remove cap, pee on test, pointing down then replace cap and lay on flat surface for three minutes. I can do that. Two lines means congrats, you're pregnant!"
So that’s exactly what you did. Once placing the cap back on and leaving the test on the side of the sink, you washed her hands, watching the test with a concerned look on your face before catching your reflection in the mirror before scowling. You point to your reflection, calling your name sternly. "Come on. Staring at it isn't going to make it go any quicker." you momentarily froze before shaking your head.
Stop talking to yourself.
You took a deep breath, knowing it had been longer than the three minutes it suggested on the box. You let the breath go before closing your eyes tightly then opening them, lifting the test to eyeline.
Two pink lines stare back at you, almost mockingly.
You felt sick again. And dizzy. You were going to pass out. You need to sit down. You feel yourself grab onto the edge of the counter, slowly lowering yourself to the floor, still staring at the positive test. No matter how long you stared, the test didn't change. Those two pink lines were still as vibrant as they were a few minutes ago.
What do you do? What are you supposed to tell Santi? It was a one-night stand, you used protection! How did this happen?
You could feel yourself panicking, becoming breathless. You drop the test on the floor, your heart pounding loudly in your ears as you stumbled your way into your bedroom and to your bedside drawer, digging around for the condom box. They must be a defective batch. There was no way –
You felt your blood run cold. Expired.
You, again, felt like you were going to pass out. How did you not know? Why didn’t you check the expiration date sooner? You felt tears flood your eyes as you angrily threw the box into the trash. What we’re you going to do now? You can’t have a baby. You had a tiny, one-bedroom apartment! You had just situated yourself in your career! And you were pretty sure Santi didn’t want kids. You would be alone, with a child.
You didn't sleep well that night, if at all. Your mind was going one hundred miles a minute, going through all the aspects that you currently had going on and how you would accommodate for a baby, if you were pregnant. You would have to find a new place, big enough for two people, if not more. That was another thing. Would Santi even want to be involved? You hadn’t even spoken since the date, you might not even need to tell him.
You shake the thought away. Of course you need to tell him.
You took a second test as soon when you woke up, and it did come out positive. You waited until after you had breakfast and showered and watched a little morning TV before taking another one. You ended up throwing up your breakfast into the toilet. It was positive, again.
It was late afternoon, after hours of pacing and weighing the options when you scrolled for Santi’s number. You had taken yet another test, just to be sure (the result was no different than the first three you took), and had promptly thrown up again, into your toilet. Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating. What if he doesn’t answer? What if he blocked your number after your date? You had no intention of speaking to each other again, what if he just ignored you? Would he think you wanted another date?
No, you couldn’t let these fears take over. He deserved to know. And if you couldn’t contact him, you could always ask Emily to pass the message along that you needed to speak to him.
You shiver. You hoped it didn’t come to that.
You press the call button before you psych yourself out more, placing the phone to your ear. The ringing twisted your stomach with nerves. This wasn’t even the hard part. You just had to ask him to talk, to meet you for coffee or something. It’ll be casual, as casual as it can be telling a one night stand you were pregnant. Oh shit, you were going to be sick –
“Hello?”
Your breathing hitched at the sound of Santiago’s voice. You take a deep breath before releasing it. There was no turning back now. “Hey…it’s me.”
“Hey,” he replies, muttering your name. “How are you? Wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“Er, yeah. Just…listen, we need to talk.”
#triple frontier#santiago garcia x reader#santiago x reader#santiago garcia x f!reader#santiago garcia#oscar isaac#pregnant!reader
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Silent Desires | JHS
Pairing: best friend!Hoseok x best friend! fem!Reader
Summary: Kind and soft-hearted. That was your childhood best friend, Hoseok who had been in love with you for so many years. Maybe this time he'd get to open up his silent desires to you, and maybe, hopefully, you'll feel just like him. In love.
Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, fear of unrequited love, food ingestion, idiots in love, reader is hinted to be shorter than hobi, (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word Count: 1.9k words
~Prompt 2: Hot Chocolate
~Snowflakes divider by @samspenandsword
~Prompt list by @flightlessangelwings
Hoseok was panicking. And not in a good way.
You had just sent him a text telling him you were on your way back to his place, just like you both had agreed to but you also said you'd be an hour early because of something you had to do later. Your text didn't say what thing you had to do but you didn't want to cancel plans with your childhood best friend.
You proposed to meet earlier to which he replied almost instantly telling you there was no problem at all. In reality, he panicked and chose to write a quick response.
Your reply came in the form of a cute emoji before you went offline. Now Hoseok had a whole flat to tidy up, make some snacks and choose a movie to watch with you.
Now, Hoseok was a generally organised person but he had had a long weekend to just laze around and hadn't bothered to tidy up much more than on a regular basis. It also didn't help that it was freezing outside and he spent the last two days laying on the couch either sleeping or on his phone.
He was running up and down his apartment hiding stuff and accommodating other things while also mentally preparing to see you. Hoseok has been deeply in love with you since you both were fourteen and what he thought was in the beginning a simple, harmless crush over his lifetime best friend soon developed into actual love that no matter what he did or who he met, it only grew stronger.
Now he was twenty-six and his love for you had made itself a part of him. Of course, he had never brought up the topic with you, about romantic feelings in the middle of you both for he was scared to ruin the beautiful friendship that has blessed his life.
He didn't want to lose you so if he could only have you as a friend, he'd be happy with that.
Little did he know, you felt exactly the same way as he did. You had fallen in your love with your best friend, as cliché as it sounded, you would no longer deny it. Yet the same fear of losing the most important person in your life kept you quiet, deciding to bury your feelings in the depths of your heart where they won't harm your beautiful friendship with Hoseok.
Said man was currently in the kitchen drying and storing away some now cleaned dishes when he heard you yell through the front door.
"Hobi! Can you open the door, please? My hands are full!"
He chuckled, admiring the sound of your voice. He felt his heart skip a beat with your unseen presence.
"Jung Hoseok, are you there?! Don't make me shout in the middle of the corridor or you'll pay for lunch next time if someone complains!"
He put the plate he was drying with a soft towel down on the counter and walked towards the door.
"Stop shouting! I'm coming!"
Unlocking the front door, he opened it for you. You stepped inside, taking off your shoes before turning to look at your best friend.
"What took you so long?"
Hobi let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck as he closed the door.
"I was putting away some dishes."
You hummed, looking around his place as if it were the first time you had been to his apartment.
"You are still paying for lunch next time, by the way."
His eyes widened at your words. Really? When he nearly tripped over his own feet to get to the door as fast as possible?
"Yah! Why? No one complained about the noise."
You tilted your head, looking up at him with a sly smirk at his reaction.
"No, but my hands are burning from carrying this around, besides it is your turn to pay."
He let out a soft grunt, only then noticing you holding two drinks from the cafe down the street and a bag of what he could guess were pastries rested on your wrist. Hoseok took the drinks from your hands, suppressing a shudder at the tingles that travelled up his spine when his fingers brushed yours.
You walked further into his flat, putting the bag of pastries on the counter before you turned to look at him with a teasing gaze.
"Are you going to stand there all day or are we going to watch a movie?"
You were cuddled next to Hoseok on the sofa with a heavy blanket covering you both while his laptop rested on the coffee table as it played Train To Busan.
"Oh, wow! This hot chocolate is really good! Where did you get it?"
He asked, not moving his gaze from the laptop. You hummed, munching on your bit of your cinnamon roll.
"There's a new coffee shop... near my place. I wanted to... to try it out."
You didn't have to look at Hoseok to know he was side-eyeing you. You felt his gaze and you had to suppress a snort.
"Don't eat with your mouth full."
His words caused you to smile, swallowing while taking a sip from your own hot chocolate.
"Happy?"
He hummed, focusing back on the movie. Or at least pretending to do so. Your presence took his mind away from reality. How was he able to concentrate on a movie he had already seen thousands of times when you were sitting next to him, nearly cuddling him in a unique moment like this one.
He could smell the soft scent of your perfume, feel your warmth next to him. His heart accelerated, pulse quickening while a delicate blush painted his cheeks. Subtly, he turned to look at you.
Hoseok hasn’t ever seen someone as beautiful as you in that exact moment. Your eyes were wide and engrossed in the movie, your lashes were long and curled to perfection. Your lips, slightly parted and with some glassed sugar in the corner made him want to pull you and kiss you right there and then.
It took everything in Hoseok to not do it, to not risk it, to not kiss you. To keep silent when his mind, his heart, his body screamed at him, begged him to do something. To confess. To express his silent desires.
You turned to look at him with a curious gaze, your head was tilted to the side, eyes never leaving his own. Embarrassment suddenly fell over your best friend like a bucket of cold water as he realised he had spoken your name while swimming in his thoughts that evolved around you.
“What is it?”
You whispered, getting yourself lost in his eyes. In the moment. In his presence. You swallowed, butterflies erupted in your stomach while his hands tingled to hold your own.
He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Feeling his heart in his throat. His thoughts racing, hands shaking subtly. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the opportunity he had begged the universe to grant him so that he could open his heart to you. Perhaps this was his chance.
"(y/n), I..."
You turned around, breaking eye contact with your friend as the sound of your phone ringing caught your attention. You looked at your phone's screen only to read Jimin's name on it. Hoseok sighed as you grumbled under your breath.
"It's Jimin. It is probably about work, do you mind if I answer it?"
He shook his head with a smile, hiding his hatred for the younger man's timing.
"What is it, Jimin?"
Hobi listened to your voice, sighing to himself at the popped bubble where he nearly confessed his feelings for you. The realisation hit him like a train as he widened his eyes and had to suppress a whine. Pausing the movie so as to distract himself with something and do not disturb you during your call.
"I do have those files but they are in my laptop, I'm not home currently."
You hummed, already in search of your purse. Hoseok was able to distinguish your change in body language and he sighed to himself yet again.
"Is it really that urgent or you just don't want to get another lecture from Mrs. Kwon?"
"(y/n), I swear, if I don't send her the report today she could fire me. Please, help me! I'll buy you next month's lunch everyday, whatever you want, but please help me this time."
You sighed, rubbing your temple as you stood up, Hoseok mimicked your actions.
"Fine, I'll be home in thirty minutes."
Those words made his heart ache. You were leaving. You haven't even been in his flat for an hour and you already had to go!
You hummed into the phone before you hung up the call with Jimin, turning to look at your best friend with a sad expression.
"Hobi, I'm sorry, I-"
"Don't worry about it, (y/n/n). It looks urgent."
He interrupted you with a soft tone, offering you one of his golden smiles yet you still couldn't shake the guilt that began creeping up to you.
"It really is. I'm sorry I have to cancel plans with you like this."
He waved a hand in front of you, dismissing your guilt as if it wasn't crushing his heart to be apart from you this quick in the evening.
"Next time is in your place, I'll bring the snacks."
You smiled at his attempt to light the mood. Which was working, honestly. You grabbed your purse and pocketed your phone, walking towards the front door.
After you put your shoes on, you suddenly remembered the conversation you were having with Hoseok before the call got in the middle of your lovely evening.
"Hobi, you were going to say something before. What was it?"
He blinked at your sparkling eyes looking up at him for he suddenly felt nervous once more in your presence. He cleared his throat, searching for an excuse, not wanting to open his heart for you now when the moment had already passed.
"It's nothing important. Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded. Sending you another of his heart-shaped smiles that melted your heart.
"Text me when you get home?"
He said, more like asked. The thought of his care warmed your heart in more ways than it should between two friends.
"Of course."
And with that, you left his flat, leaving him with his racing thoughts once more. Hoseok sighed, eyes going to where you had sat down on his couch just a moment ago.
He already missed you, your absence in his life felt like a cold shiver during a winter day. He sat down on the couch, shutting down the laptop for he was no longer in the mood to continue watching that movie. Not without you. Not in this drowning silence.
His eyes wandered to what you had brought to share with him. Some cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate. A smile was painted on his face, loving the cute little tradition between you and him since college years. Of watching a movie together every week with a hot drink and a delicious snack to enjoy.
A sigh escaped his lips, leaning back on the couch. He could still smell the soft scent of your perfume lingering in the air.
Perhaps today Hoseok wasn't able to confess his feelings for you, but he hoped the day would come in which he could open up his heart for you and express his silent desire to you, the owner of his heart. His best friend.
His love.
December/08/2023
☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕
#hoseok#jung hoseok x reader#winter event 2023#sweetcarrotsandroses97#best friends#hobi#bts#jung hoseok#bts jhope#jhope#hoseok x reader#love
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Request: Burn to Ashes (Firefly x Reader)
Secrets couldn't be buried- not for long and your secrets were scattered in that place. All it took was the wrong person at the wrong time for your whole life to come apart by the seams. Like being locked in a prison but it was one you had built. By design, everything was to go as planned. Secrets were let in but they're never let out. Life never really cared for plans. It welcomed fear, a dear friend, the one thing the future could depend on was its fear friend fear that always peeked around the corner. It was a trait of being alive, the fear of the unknown and what could end everything that is known.
How long had it been since your mind made the change to find comfort in something so very wrong?
For how long had it been so comforting and easy to knock over that candle and help the flame grow?
Like pieces of a puzzle, the conveniently placed envelope, stacks of books and paper. A messy apartment that, in truth, was an organised disaster. You could almost see the beauty in it.
How nothing, seemingly irrelevant, stand alone objects, all become a part of a bigger plan.
In the end, all that would be left was burned remains of what was. No pain, no suffering. A slate wiped clean. Only ashes remained. If left long enough, there'd be nothing left to piece together and you begged any deity that could hear you that would be the case.
As the expression said, when there's smoke there was fire and that was the one warning those in the building needed. Get out before the flames consume everything in its path. Wipe away everything even you.
Everyone near your building gathered to watch the scene. Rumours slipped much like the smoke did out the cracks of the windows. Garfield Lynns was in full gear and the crowd spread out. His reputation out did him. His presence meant chaos was just around the corner and no one was willing to risk being in the crossfire. His jet pack whooshed as he turned the corner and landed to the ground, feet away from you. You sat on the concrete path, your hands propping yourself upright.
"It's beautiful." His eyes were wide and sparkling behind his mask, completely unseen. His voice muffled by the gas mask but not even that could hide the sound of his pride. He crouched down to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. His skin felt almost leathery, his body damaged from burns covering his whole body.
"Damn, I'm so proud of you." He watched in awe. "Who knew you had it in you!? I could kiss you!" He tugged you closer to him.
"I did it...like my body was on autopilot." You muttered.
"Your instincts are beautiful!" He praised you like he experienced the adrenaline rush for you. Perhaps he had one of his own. Maybe that's what love did. When you love someone, you feel for them, no longer just spectating their experiences but living them with them.
"It was like the walls were closing in on me."
"Sets you free." He nodded, like he could relate. "Can't stay long. This one, it ain't ours." He inclined his head to the fire, turning to you.
"I'm waiting for the police." You spoke like all the emotion had been sucked out of you. Perhaps you left that too in your burning apartment.
"Oh you're not doing that." Garfield replied, excitement in his tone. "Not a chance, sweetheart."
"They'll fine me eventually, Gar..." You whispered. He hummed in amusement. "They won't be looking for you." He said, lifting his blowtorch smugly. "You're...you're going to take the blame?" You asked in disbelief.
"Better me than you." He cackled. "So scram, babe."
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A Place to Call Home (3/4)
It’s finally here! This mammoth of a chapter took a couple of weeks because it’s a. mammoth sized and b. I’ve had some personal stuff going on. but it’s here and it’s long so grab your snacks and drinks and settle in! This is dedicated to @whorehausen and @shes-a-voodoo-child because without them this wouldn’t be finished. thank you for your endless support, and well, being pretty much the only two reading this self indulgent little thing.
Title: A Place to Call Home
Pairings: Bryan Danielson/Nigel McGuinness, Bryan Danielson/William Regal, Bryan Danielson/Jon Moxley/Claudio Castagnoli/Wheeler Yuta
Ratings/Warnings: Mature, Language, Sex
Summary: “I wouldn’t stop you, prinzli. I just hope you know what you’re doing. You remember what it used to be like, yes?” “Yeah. They were the happiest years of my life.”
Word Count: 14,288
Parts: ONE | TWO
AO3
The love that I was giving you was never in doubt. — Babylon, David Gray
X
They don’t talk about what happened when they got back from the pub the next morning. Bryan wants to, but he can’t seem to make the words come out of his mouth. He wants to ask Nigel why he put himself into the situation of sleeping with that woman and Bryan if he wasn’t into women. He wants to know what Nigel meant when he put his hands in his beard and said he had a cute little chin. Nigel always used to make fun of his hair, or lack of it when he shaved it, saying that he looked like a British skinhead and did he want his bomber jacket and a pair of docs to complete the look?
Half the time Bryan shaved his hair just to piss Nigel off, to have him keep picking fun at him because at least it kept his attention on him whenever it threatened to wander elsewhere. It was ironic that in their last months together, Nigel had shaved his hair and Bryan’s was grown out. Bryan guesses it started the shift in them, Nigel losing himself as he got tangled up in injuries and illnesses in TNA, and Bryan found himself being bounced around by WWE and the independent circuit.
He’s not about to shave his head to get a rise out of Nigel, but he does wonder what it would do.
Over the next couple of days they fall into an easy routine. Bryan gets up, has coffee in the garden before starting on making Nigel breakfast. Bryan keeps wearing Nigel’s robe, and relishes in how Nigel always comes down the stairs wearing only his shorts, with messy hair and sleepy eyes, thanking Bryan for coffee and breakfast and they enjoy it together, sitting at the table and talking about things they used to do, some of the matches Bryan’s had since they’ve been apart.
Then Nigel goes away to work, and Bryan cleans up breakfast and then tries to find things to do while Nigel’s not there. He goes for runs, explores the shops, he even plants a few things in Nigel’s garden, even though he’s hoping that when it’s finally time to ask Nigel to come home, it won’t be Nigel’s garden anymore.
He cooks dinner when Nigel gets back from work, and then they sit watching old matches together, shooting on all the dumb stuff they and other people did.
On Friday afternoon Nigel comes back a few hours early, says he always does on a Friday, and he sets his laptop bag down and comes into the garden where Bryan’s organising Nigel’s disaster of a shed.
“How do you feel about going away for a few days?”
Bryan feels his heart sink a little bit. “You have someone coming over?”
Nigel looks at him confused before shaking his head, “No you bloody idiot, how do you feel about us going away for the weekend. I want to take you somewhere.”
Oh. Oh well that’s. That’s something.
“You want to take me somewhere? Where?”
“That’s a secret. You just gotta’ say you’ll come with me.”
Anywhere, Bryan wants to say. I’ll come with you anywhere. But that’s — so he doesn’t, he just smiles and says,
“You’re not going to kidnap me and murder me, are you? Get me out of your hair?”
“Course not, I’ve had more than enough chances to do that, don’t need to take you away to murder you, Dragon. How many people know you’re here?”
Bryan wipes his dusty hands on his sweats, looking up at Nigel and squinting as the afternoon sun starts to dip behind the house. “None.”
“None? You didn’t tell anyone you were coming here?”
“Well. Doug knows, because I asked him for your information. And any of the other people I asked for your information could hazard a guess if someone asked them but. I just came straight here. Regal asked me the other day but I… didn’t tell him where I was.” Bryan explains, and he does feel bad about that, because Regal might start worrying about him if he doesn’t get back to him. He just doesn’t want anyone to know where he is yet. He doesn’t need them trying to get involved. Claudio knows the complexities of his and Nigel’s relationship better than most, having spent the most of his ROH time around them, Mox has always said they’re no good for each other, and poor Yuta hasn’t ever had to deal with the level of messed up Bryan is over Nigel, and he might not understand.
“Well aren’t you just full of surprises? Come on, get inside and clean up. I wanna miss the rush hour traffic.”
Bryan shuts the shed door. “We’re going now?”
“Yeah. I have work Monday, want to make the most of the weekend. That is unless you’re going back to the States.”
“No, I haven’t made any plans to go back yet.” And he’s not going to, not until he’s convinced Nigel to come back with him.
“Then pack your bag, Dragon. And make sure you put my robe in there, yeah?”
Bryan doesn’t blush, because he’s a grown man, but he does feel his body warm at the indirect call out.
“It’s mine now. You gave it to me.”
“Yeah, cos’ you were being a bloody idiot and sitting out in the cold without anything on. I didn’t give it to you to keep.”
“Well that was your mistake wasn't it, should have just let me be cold.”
“Now why would I ever do that?” Nigel says, and he puts his arm around Bryan’s shoulder and walks him back to the house and through the kitchen.
“Because apparently we’re not friends and you don’t like me?” Bryan deadpans.
Nigel stiffens a little bit beside him, and Bryan seizes the opportunity to wrap his hand in the tie around Nigel’s neck, pulling them closer together.
“I’ve changed my mind, I am going to murder you and dispose of the body where nobody will ever find you.” Nigel says, but his voice has dropped quieter, and he’s looking down at Bryan, looking at his mouth as she swipes a tongue over his lips.
“You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t even leave me knocked out in the ring, you got back in and made sure I didn’t freak out. You took me to the hospital and waited with me. You could try and kill me and leave my body somewhere, but you’d come back and get me, you’d revive me.” And Bryan says it like it’s an accusation and a fact all at once.
Something passes over Nigel’s face, and he clenches and unclenches his jaw. He could easily step away, he could easily get out of the hold Bryan has on his tie, but he doesn’t.
“Admit it.”
“Admit what, Bryan?”
“That we’re friends. That we’re more than friends, and we always have been. Admit that we’ve always been something more.”
Nigel’s hands come up, they turn up the collar of his white shirt, and then they tug the loop of the tie over his head, leaving it still tied in Bryan’s hands.
“Hurry up, I want to beat the traffic.” Is all he says before he’s turning and taking the stairs two steps at a time.
Bryan watches him go, and for a moment he just holds the tie in his hands and watches the empty staircase. Nigel’s always been good at pulling away at the last minute, at building and building the tension until he would just leave you high and dry at the last moment. It’s okay, Bryan can deal with that, he’s had fourteen years of not having it, of building his Nigel-centric patience back up. So he’ll deal with it for now, he’ll slowly work him down, just like he used to in the ring. He can out wrestle Nigel and he can also out whit him when it comes to emotions and feelings.
Bryan goes into his room, keeping the tie and stuffing it to the bottom of his bag, because if Nigel didn’t want him to have it then he shouldn’t have left it in his hands, and packs his clothes on top of it. Nigel said they were going for the weekend so he doesn’t need much, not that he has much anyway, but he also doesn’t know where they’re going, so he packs most of it so that he’s not caught out.
He can’t think of where Nigel wants to take him, why he wants to take him at all. But then Bryan doesn’t know the UK very well and Nigel’s always been unpredictable, so he shouldn’t be surprised at all.
He meets Nigel back downstairs, who’s putting his laptop away in a locked cupboard, his duffel bag sitting on the couch.
“You ready Dragon?”
“Ready,” Bryan confirms. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
“Nah,” Nigel says as he picks up his bag. “You’ll know when we get there.”
Nigel ushers him out of the door and Bryan tries to think what this is all about, what any of this could mean. They’ve kind of been on road trips together before, if you count all the riding together for wrestling, and that time they got lost, but they’ve never done it for the sole purpose of just going somewhere. Nigel’s never taken him anywhere but the hospital and Waffle House.
They get in Nigel’s car, Bryan’s rental sat in the same space on the road that it was the day he got here, unused and unneeded.
It’s a quiet journey for the most part, there isn’t much traffic on the roads like Nigel was hoping for, and the sun is just starting to set, casting everything in warm yellow tones. Nigel puts the car stereo on half an hour in, playing all the same music he always used to in his beat up little car, Oasis and Blur and other British groups that Bryan doesn’t remember the name of. Some of them are familiar and Bryan’s foot taps along with them, feeling like they’re on their way to the next ROH show, getting ready to fight each other for a belt or for the right to fight for a belt.
An hour in, Bryan looks out of the window to see a sign that says, Welcome to Blackpool. And he turns his head to Nigel, who’s got a smile playing on his face like he was waiting for Bryan to see that sign and realise where they were going.
“This is where you’re taking me? To Blackpool?”
“Well, you are part of the Blackpool Combat Club, and I couldn’t remember if you’d ever wrestled here, and seeing as you know, it’s literally your club's name and it’s not far from home, I thought I’d bring you.”
Bryan has wrestled here, just once. “James Mason, 2008. I lost.” He says remembering instantly. He hadn’t stayed for very long, Regal had hoped to be there but had been caught up with something, so Bryan had left the next day. He doesn’t remember much of it, just that it was in the ballroom at the big tower they have, and he’d been bored and lonely without Colt, Sal or Nigel around. He’d have even taken Eddie Kingston, if only for a familiar face to have been with him in a strange place.
“Really? Blimey.”
“You?”
“No, actually. Which feels weird now I know you have. You come here with Regal much?”
Bryan shakes his head. “He wanted to be here for that match, but he couldn’t make it. I don’t think I’ve ever been here outside of that.”
“What about the others?”
Bryan thinks about it. He can’t be certain, because he barely remembers all of the matches he’s had, let alone anyone else, but nothing jumps out at him. “I don’t know. I don’t think so? I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mox or Claudio mention it, and I doubt Yuta has.”
Nigel huffs out a laugh and turns down the stereo as they park up. “The Blackpool Combat Club and only one of its current members has ever wrestled in Blackpool, bloody typical.”
Bryan shrugs, he guesses it’s kind of weird, but it was an homage to the place Regal billed himself from, rather than a place special to all of them.
They’re on the seafront, and Bryan stares out the window at the view in front of him. The sea is crashing against the shore, frothy white foam reaching high up the beach before retreating. There’s lights strung up high on every single streetlight, wrapped around railings and twinkling along the pier in the distance.
“So what’s the big plan?” Bryan asks, and Nigel just grins.
“Find a place to stay. Have a look around.
Maybe we could catch a show.”
“Find a place — you mean we don’t already have a place? What if there isn’t one?” Bryan says, and he quickly gets out of the car when Nigel does too.
“It’s March in Blackpool, there’ll be somewhere. Though hopefully Regal didn’t spoil you too much while he was around, might have to slum it in a two or three star hotel.” The grin on Nigel’s face is a mile wide, like this is the funniest thing in the world. And Bryan doesn’t care what star rating the hotel has, he just cares that there is a hotel to stay in. They might not be far from Nigel’s place in the grand scheme of things, but Nigel is clearly up to something.
“You’re infuriating, Nigel.”
“And yet, here you are.”
Yeah, here he is indeed.
He follows Nigel up onto the sidewalk, the two of them walking side by side along the long strip. There aren’t too many people around, but it has dropped dark now, and the lights make everything look pretty and festive.
It’s pretty cold, and Bryan wishes he’d maybe brought a hat or something to keep his head warm. Nigel doesn’t seem bothered, which is weird, because normally it’s the other way around, with Nigel always cold and Bryan barely feeling it. It’s why he has his robe, after all.
They walk for a while before Nigel nudges him to cross the road, towards a little bed and breakfast place that has a wooden sign in the window that says Vacancies.
He follows him inside, instantly feeling the warmth of the place hit him in the face when he steps through the door. It smells like wood and furniture polish, and home cooked food that makes Bryan a little bit hungry. It’s a nice enough place, a little old fashioned, more to Regal’s taste than Bryan’s but it will do on short notice. Nigel goes up to the front desk and Bryan hangs around by the staircase. There’s picture frames lining the walls, all of them with a picture and a description of the picture underneath inside. They’re little pieces of history, and Bryan reads through them, trying to file them all away so that he can tell Regal about them later and watch his face light up as he does so. Regal hasn’t had much to be happy about lately.
“Anything interesting?” Nigel comes up behind him, a room key in his hand. And it’s an actual key, with a piece of string and a big thick piece of card tied on to it, the number written in scruffy black marker pen.
“Blackpool has the oldest amusement park ride in all of Europe.” Bryan recites, pointing at the picture of an old ride in black and white on the wall. It’s just a tall structure with spaceships on the end of wires, so when it spins, they fly.
“If I’d have known that I wouldn’t have gone on it.”
“Maybe you should do some reading up on the places you visit before you visit them.” Bryan jabs, and Nigel just rolls his eyes at him, pushing him towards the stairs.
Their room is on the top floor, and it’s a bit of a work out to get to it, the stairs are steep and twisting, but he guesses that’s normal for a place that is as old as this looks.
The first thing that strikes Bryan when Nigel opens the door is that the bed has hideous frilly, floral bed covers on and looks like his grandma picked them out in 1934. Then belatedly, as he’s about to say how hideous the covers are, he realises that it’s, that there’s only one bed.
“Before you say anything, this is all they had. And I didn’t think you’d appreciate leaving and finding anything else.” Nigel says before Bryan can say anything, dumping his bag on the bed and immediately going over to the window to look out at the view.
Bryan thinks about asking why they wouldn’t just look for something else, he wouldn’t have minded, but he doesn’t, because Nigel made this decision and he’s not about to argue about sharing a bed with him.
“Not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” Bryan says, putting his bag next to Nigel’s on the bed. He finds the bathroom, and when he switches the light on he finds that everything — the toilet, the bath and shower, the sink and the tiles — is pink. An old fashioned shade of floral pink, with gold accents that have seen better days. It’s the most hideous old fashioned bathroom Bryan has ever seen, but it’s clean and he supposes that that’s the main thing.
“I feel like I’ve stepped into the 1940s.” Nigel says behind him, and he hadn’t heard him coming up behind him and he jumps a little.
“It’s old fashioned but better than some of the stuff we used to end up in back in the day. Remember when that cockroach—“
“Do not bring up the cockroach on my face. I’ve blocked it out.”
“It was literally about to crawl in your mouth—“
“Dragon I swear to god we’re not talking about it, I have blocked it out.”
Bryan grins, because he hasn’t blocked it out, not at all, the memory of Nigel waking up in a panic slapping his face over and over again as he all but screamed about something crawling on him is one Bryan won’t ever forget. Not the way Nigel sat shaking afterwards in the shitty little chair next to the window refusing to go back to bed.
“Fine, we won’t talk about that.”
“The things we used to deal with. Bet it’s paid for 5 star hotels now, ain't it Dragon?”
“I mean it’s not 5 stars, but it’s paid for. Tony takes care of everything. Though, there’s nostalgia in the shittier hotels, don’t you think?”
“For you, maybe. I never got the luxury of paid expenses. I had to work at a grocery store while at TNA.”
“What?”
“When I wasn’t getting used and when I had the Hep I wasn’t getting paid, Bryan. Think I could survive without another job?”
“No I just — I didn’t know that.”
“You were lucky. WWE found you something to do when you had to retire,” Nigel says, and he’s looking out of the window and not at Bryan as he talks. “When I found out that you were forced to retire, I kept wondering what you were going to do. Surely your success couldn’t dwindle the same way mine did? Of course, it didn’t. I remember feeling relieved and angry all at the same time.”
“Nigel…”
“I am glad you got cleared again. There’s not a lot better in the world to me than watching Bryan Danielson at the top of his game.”
“You could get cleared again. You could be at the top of your game too, Nigel.”
“We should go and find some food, you’re talking rubbish.”
“I’m serious Nigel.”
“And so am I. We’ve had this conversation already, I have no business being this old and broken and getting back in the ring.” Nigel says, and he scoops the room key back up ushers Bryan back out of the room.
“And anyway, that head doc of yours. Sampson. He’s the bloody arsehole who wouldn’t clear me back in 2009. He certainly wouldn’t clear me now.”
“He was?”
“Mhm. There was nothing wrong with me back then, I got multiple letters from my doctor that my arm was fine, didn’t need surgery, and he still wouldn’t clear me. I’m nearly fifty now, I’m not in any better shape.”
“He cleared me to come to AEW and I’d argue I’m in worse shape than you.”
“You are in worse shape than me, you bloody lunatic. I’ve had twelve years without taking kicks to the head. You’ve never really stopped, have you? I have no idea how he cleared you. Or why. But he has.”
They make it back out onto the seafront, and this time it’s much busier, with people walking in big groups around them, little kids zig zagging through their legs and screaming in delight.
“I think you probably are in better shape. You proved in TNA you didn’t need the bicep surgery. You came back from Hep B. And you’ve clearly been taking care of yourself since then, you’ve had time to heal. You’ve got more chances of being cleared than you did back then.”
The way that Nigel doesn’t respond right away with a comment to shut him down, and instead keeps his eyes looking forward with a haunted look on his face shows Bryan that slowly he’s cracking that defence Nigel’s had up about returning to wrestling ever since he retired.
“How about Italian for dinner? That place looks nice.” Nigel changes the subject and points to a restaurant on the corner of a street up ahead.
Inside it’s not particularly busy, and they get seated right at the back in their corner, so they’re graced with obscurity and privacy that they luckily didn’t have to ask for.
They eat nice food and talk about wrestling matters that don’t involve Nigel making a comeback, and when they’re both stuffed full they take a walk across the beach. Bryan can feel the sand getting into his shoes, and it’s cold, but the lights are all lit up and there’s music playing somewhere and it’s nice. It’s different and it’s nice and he’s with Nigel. That’s what really makes it.
When Bryan’s got enough sand in his shoes to start his own beach, they head over to a convenience store on the corner of the street and buy snacks just like they always used to. Nigel was always hungry back when he was wrestling, and they always had to make sure there were chips, sweets and chocolate on them at all times. Old habits die hard, Bryan guesses.
Back at the bed and breakfast they both lay out on the bed sharing a bag of chips, watching a weird British game show that Nigel gets annoyed at and shouts you bloody idiots at all the contestants who get questions wrong. It’s nice to just lay next to Nigel and not have to think about anything. Not have to think about work, or Regal and the BCC, or winning and losing titles. To listen to Nigel shouting the answer to the question at the TV screen like they’re going to be able to hear him and give the host the right answer. But it makes him want to roll over and punch him right in the face, too. Because if Nigel had just lied, if he’d not told the WWE about that bicep injury they’d have cleared him, and they’d have wrestled there together, Nigel would have been woven into his story in the most wonderful and infuriating way. They wouldn’t be here now, Nigel a car salesman and Bryan a wrestler just looking for his heart to finally come home. Bryan wouldn’t be here figuring out how to get Nigel to come home. They’d probably both be scrapping it out in the ring and on the mics in AEW and ROH, just like they always have. Like they always should have been.
When he’s ready to turn in, Bryan doesn’t bother getting his sleep pants out of his bag, he simply strips down to his boxers and folds his clothes up before slipping under the covers. Nigel tries to make it look like he’s not watching as he scrolls on his phone, but Bryan can feel his eyes on him the whole time.
Nigel stays up longer than Bryan, though he switches the TV off and scrolls on his phone without making any noise. Eventually he does the same as Bryan and strips down and gets into the bed. It’s been over a decade since they shared a bed, but Nigel still smells the same, still makes Bryan’s heart flutter like he’s twenty four and crazy for him.
Bryan gets a few hours sleep before he’s woken up by his phone blaring on the bedside table. He scrambles to find it in his bleary state, and Nigel rouses beside him, their feet tangled together as he gets the phone and answers it without even looking at the caller ID that’s so bright it feels like it would have blinded him anyway.
“Hello?” Bryan says, untangling his feet from Nigel and getting out of the bed. He goes into the bathroom so he doesn’t wake Nigel up anymore than he already has.
“Honigbienli, tell me why I have just heard the international dial tone when calling you?”
Claudio.
“Uh,” Bryan says dumbly as he sits down on the closed toilet lid, tucking his feet up so they don’t get cold on the tiles. “Because I’m… not at home.”
“Then where are you? William has been calling us telling us he can’t get hold of you. That you haven’t been at your place since the pay per view. I have texted you a dozen times. You have fallen off the face of the earth!”
Bryan winces a little bit, hearing both the anger and concern in Claudio’s voice. He should have responded to them all. It’s not like he hasn’t had the time, he’s had all the time in the world while waiting for Nigel to come back from work, but he just hasn't. He hasn’t wanted anyone to know where he is, to tell him what he’s doing is stupid. And with everything they’ve been going through, maybe he’d forgotten that they’d still be worried about him if they didn’t hear from him.
“I’m in Blackpool.”
“Blackpool?!”
“I was in Liverpool, but I just got into Blackpool a little while ago.”
“Bryan what are you — is this what you meant when you said you were ‘going home?’ Are you trying to… find yourself?”
“No, no I’m — well. Yes. It is about home, but it’s not — I’m not trying to find myself. I’m, I’m with Nigel.”
“Nigel… Oh goodness… You found him?”
Bryan scratches the top of his foot and rests his chin on his knee. “He wasn’t that hard to find once I looked in the right place.”
“Prinzli, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to get him to come home.”
There is silence at the end of the line, and Bryan almost checks to see whether Claudio has ended the call before he hears a soft sigh.
“And how is that going?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m doing alright. I’ll do what it takes, for as long as it takes.”
“You’ve been without him for so long, Bryan. I thought that was a healed wound.”
“It was never a wound. He has never been a wound. He’s been… something special that I left behind when I moved house and thought I’d never get back but I have a chance to and now I want to make sure I come home with it. That he comes home where he belongs.”
“I never thought we would be here again, talking about Nigel McGuinness.”
“Yeah, me neither. But I need this, Claudio. I don’t think I’ve really been me for a long time. To be me I need him to come home. Please let me do this.”
“I wouldn’t stop you, prinzli. I just hope you know what you’re doing. You remember what it used to be like, yes?”
“Yeah. They were the happiest years of my life.”
Claudio sighs softly, and he hears him moving around. “I would never. The American Dragon doesn’t let anything get in between him and Nigel McGuinness. I learnt that a long time ago.” He says, and Bryan wants to protest because he did. He let his own path to success leave Nigel behind. But he doesn’t. Because what’s the point? It’s all happened. He can’t change it.
“Make sure you call William, or just let him know you’re okay. Mox has threatened to change all our numbers if he calls us again.”
“I will. How are they? Mox and Yuta?”
“Good, they’re good. They were worried about you, of course. They’ll be happy to know you’re okay.”
“Good. Tell them I miss them, and that I love them.”
“I will, but you should call them too. Especially Yuta. He’s trying his hardest not to get ‘all in his feelings’ as you say, but he would like things to go back to normal.”
“I will, I will I promise I’ll get everything sorted out. I just need to do this.”
“Okay. I will let you go, it must be late there?”
“Yeah. Middle of the night or something. Nigel’s gonna’ hate that you woke him up.”
“Sharing a room?”
Bryan feels his cheeks warm, feels far too old to be blushing but he can’t stop it. “Maybe.”
“It feels like 2007 all over again. Be careful, prinzli. And good luck.”
“Thank you Claudio. I love you.”
“I love you too, Bryan.”
The line drops, and Bryan pulls the phone away from his ear again to lock it. His ear is warm and a little sweaty from holding the phone against it, and he rubs at it with the palm of his hand. He washes his hands just because he’s been in the bathroom and touched the lid of the toilet seat before he steps back into the bedroom. Nigel is wrapped up in the blankets, having pulled them all on him while Bryan was in the bathroom. He’s always been a blanket hog.
“Who the fuck was that?” Nigel mumbles sleepily when Bryan gets back into the bed, turning to face him and actually letting him have some of the blankets back. Nigel never used to let him have the blankets back.
“Claudio. He didn’t know I was here so he didn’t know it was the middle of the night.”
“Castagnoli. Should have known. Nothing but a worry wart.”
“A what?”
“A worry wart. Always worrying. You tell him you’re here?”
“Yeah. Regal called them because he hadn’t heard back from me, so I’ll have to tell him tomorrow too.”
“As long as it doesn’t put you in a mood, I don’t want to be dragging a grumpy Dragon around all day.”
“I’ll just text him. By the time we wake up they’ll be asleep anyway.”
“Mmhm.”
Nigel’s already falling back to sleep, and Bryan slides down further into the covers. He wants to reach out and touch Nigel’s cheek. To feel the age lines across his skin, to feel that scar above his eye, to run his hands through his hair that hasn’t been spiked or bleached in years. But he doesn’t. Because he doesn’t have any more nerve than he did back then. Maybe less, actually, because back then, when they were under the covers and Nigel would kiss him out of the blue before going to sleep, Bryan had the nerve to kiss back, to lean into him as they slept. He doesn’t have the nerve to touch him now. But back then he didn’t have the nerve to bring it up in the morning, to talk about why Nigel kissed him, why it never led to anything. Now he’s been confronting Nigel, trying to get him to admit to them always being more than friends. Maybe he does have the nerve, just a different kind.
Bryan watches Nigel until he falls asleep, hoping and praying that he can convince Nigel to come home soon.
++
Breakfast is kind of a sorry affair, at least for Bryan anyway. They don’t have any vegetarian or vegan options, beside dry toast and fruit, because there’s no dairy free milk for the cereal or dairy free butter for toast or meat free options on the English breakfast. Which. Fine. It’s whatever. He makes do with some runny jam on the now cold toast while Nigel happily scarfs down his sausages, bacon and egg.
It’s still early when they head out, and thankfully it’s a pretty nice day, not particularly warm but the sun is shining bright in the sky and it makes everything just feel so much nicer.
They make their way along the seafront, reading all of the plaques and signs which talk about the history of Blackpool and significant events. Bryan takes a couple of pictures and sends them to Regal, with a very brief explanation of I’m in Blackpool with Nigel. Call soon. Hoping that it’s enough to tide him over until Bryan can sit down and talk to him properly. The message gets read but he doesn’t get a response, so it must be.
They pay the admission fee into the amusement park, which is rather weirdly called ‘Blackpool Pleasure Beach’, like it’s some sort of weird sex beach even though it’s not actually on the beach or about sex at all. They don’t go on any of the rides, because neither of them care for roller coasters, but they find the one that is mentioned at the B&B in the frame, looking up at it and watching it as it spins, kids sitting in the little spaceships and screaming in delight. They watch the log flume soak it’s passengers, and Bryan questions the safety and structural integrity of the coaster that has a 213ft peak and looks like it’s one big gust of wind away from falling down.
They get coffee and Bryan lets himself have one of the donuts Nigel buys even though they’re covered in sugar, greasy with oil and definitely aren’t vegetarian or vegan. He lets himself go sometimes, and now is definitely the time he’s allowed.
They check out the tower after lunch, and Bryan realises it hasn’t really changed since he was here over a decade ago. It’s busier this time, a good crowd of tourists in front of them in the queue to get in, and this time he’s got Nigel with him rather than being on his own.
He feels a bit sick when they get to the top, because the glass floor shows nothing but the drop below them, and it’s a long way down and he doesn’t know if he trusts how thick the floor is to hold all of them that are standing on it. There’s a kid who keeps jumping up and down like nothing about what he’s doing scares him and Nigel pulls him as far away from the child as possible. Not that it would make any difference, but still.
It’s late afternoon by the time they come out of the tower, and they have another coffee sitting in one of the little sheltered benches watching a group of kids making sandcastles.
There’s a mom with two kids next to them, and they’re happily eating their ice creams until the little girl’s scoop drops off of her cone and onto the floor. She immediately starts crying, and the mom starts to fluster, trying to get her brother to share his cone with her, because she can’t leave them to get another one, and she can’t drag a screaming child, a child eating an ice cream and push a stroller all the way back to the ice cream shop. Bryan is about to offer to go for her, when Nigel just gets up and disappears.
When he comes back, he’s got a small tub of ice cream in one hand, and the other curled into a fist, concealing something. The mom thanks him profusely as the little girl stops crying, and she scrambles around for her purse which Nigel tells her to put away. The little girl is beaming from ear to ear, thanking him sweetly for the ice cream, and Nigel gets down on his hunches and from behind her ear, he ‘finds’ a thick coin, Bryan’s not good with British currency so he doesn’t know how much it’s worth, but her eyes light up at the magic trick. Not to leave her brother out, who’s been staring at Nigel the whole interaction, he finds a coin behind his ear, too, grinning when he gets wow! That’s so cool! From the kid with ice cream all around his mouth.
The kids demand another magic trick, so Nigel, who actually carries a deck of cards on him at all times apparently, shows them a few card tricks, entertaining them long enough for their mom to feed and change the baby, and Bryan can see how grateful she is that Nigel is performing an impromptu magic show for her children. Bryan watches with a small smile on his face, like he used to when he’d stand in the back watching Nigel wrestle. Watching Nigel is always an experience, but there’s something about watching Nigel do something he loves, watching him perform that is so beautiful. Nigel doing magic is similar to Nigel wrestling, you can see it in his face how much he loves it, you can see his brain working behind his eyes as he thinks about his next move, his next trick, what he’s going to say to pop you for what he’s just done. The kids ask for the next trick over and over again, and Nigel has so many that Bryan can’t even keep up.
The sun has started to set by the time the children’s mom finally manages to wrangle them away from Nigel, but not before he produces candy from behind their ear as they’re leaving. They squeal with delight, showing their mom the little candies in their hands as they walk away, and Nigel sits himself back down on the bench next to Bryan.
“You’ve never, ever found candy behind my ear.” Bryan says, smiling out towards the sea. The coffee in his hand is cold now, but he still holds it against his chest.
Nigel’s hand snakes out and strokes through his beard, and before Bryan can even react, he’s holding up a piece of candy, and the smile on his face is blinding.
“Not quite your ear, but impressive, yeah?”
“God, you’re so—“
“Magical?”
“Annoying.”
Nigel’s still grinning, and he doesn’t even give Bryan the piece of candy, he just tucks it back into his pocket.
“That was nice, what you did just then.” Bryan says quietly.
“I’m a nice person, Bryan.”
Bryan goes to argue immediately, and wants to say that no, Nigel isn’t a nice person. Nigel locked him in a store cupboard, knocked him out, spat on him, bit him, disappeared from his life and left him suffering for over a decade without him. But just because all of that is true doesn’t mean that Nigel isn’t also a nice person. Nigel who helped him up when he knocked him out, who took him to the hospital, who offered to drive him to be there for the birth of his nephew.
“Yeah, I guess you are sometimes.” He admits quietly.
They sit in silence for a moment before Nigel nudges Bryan’s knee with his own. “Let’s get something to eat.”
They end up getting fish and chips, and Bryan has to remember that chips are fries here, and not chips like back home. He doesn’t have the fish, instead opting for the veggie burger they offer, and they take them actually onto the beach, sitting down on the dry sand at the top near the wall.
They’re pretty nice, if not a little greasy, and the burgers quite spicy which is nice, and sitting arm to arm with Nigel as they eat is even nicer. It’s dark now, but everything is illuminated by the lights running along the seafront, and the clear night sky means that the moon is reflecting on the ocean, and it’s beautiful. He feels at peace here, and Bryan realises Claudio might have been onto something when he asked if he was in Blackpool to find himself. He knows he’s not finding himself here, but maybe it’s something akin to it. He’s finding something here. He realises he hasn’t properly stopped in a while, stopped and appreciated himself, his family, his life. It’s been go go go since he joined AEW, even when he was sidelined for that little while to be on the safe side with his head, he was training, he was keeping up with everything he could so he didn’t get left behind. He’s been chasing the title and chasing the top spot right from the very beginning, and after losing to MJF, he knew he had to change things, knew he had to go back to the drawing board if he wanted to keep doing this. And that plan had been getting Nigel back into wrestling, somehow. Because no matter what he does, Nigel being there means Bryan is better. Bryan is always at his best when Nigel is around, and that was the whole reason for coming here, or at least to Liverpool to find him. Because Bryan wants to be the best and he needs Nigel there with him.
But maybe this has more than opened his eyes to how good just stopping for a while can be. He’s enjoyed these few days with Nigel, not thinking of work much at all. Maybe he needs to do this more often. Maybe now he knows why Claudio sets aside time when he can to play Uno with Breeze, Creed and Cole, why Mox still drives his truck out to forests and wooded areas to go for a run where he can completely be alone, why Yuta sits and plays his steel pan for hours, learning new rhythms until he’s memorised them. Maybe Bryan needs to just stop more, focus on his garden again like he has in the past. Maybe Nigel could help him.
Maybe, if he can get Nigel to come home, Nigel could do a lot of things with him.
They finish their food and Bryan gets up to walk over to the trash can to throw away their rubbish before sitting back next to Nigel. There’s sand in his shoes again, and it’s all over the backs of his legs but he doesn’t really care, because he’s pressed against Nigel, and he can feel his warmth, smell his cologne.
It feels a bit like when it was just them in the car on the way to the next show, when they didn’t bum a lift off Colt, or Sal wasn’t jumping into the back at the last minute begging for a ride, or Nigel offering Roddy the back seat without consulting him. It’s just the two of them, no one else around them, just the expanse of the sand and sea, the moon above and the cold snap of the wind around them as the waves crash against the shoreline.
“Headlock takeover.” Nigel says suddenly, quiet, and laughing a little.
“What?”
“You said the other day, about how people took little parts of me and made them their own. But that kid, MJF, he told that other guy, what’s his name… Darby. He told Darby he could beat him with a headlock takeover. And he pretty much did. You remember the two out of three falls match, you did nothing but put me in a headlock for the first twenty minutes of the match. He was taking little bits of you, in that one.”
Bryan has to admit, he doesn’t remember that between MJF and Darby, but it sounds like something that Max would say. And that he would do. He also doesn’t remember a hell of a lot of the two out of three falls match either, but he does remember the headlocks, and how much he knew it was pissing Nigel off.
“Yeah but I didn’t beat you with it.”
“No, but you could have. You got the first fall. A regular match you would have won.”
“You only took that pin because it was that type of match, you’d have kicked out if it was a regular match.”
Nigel huffs, “And how’d you know that, eh?”
“Because I know you. And every other match we’ve had. Takes me a lot more than that to beat you.”
“Doesn’t take you a lot, Dragon. You beat me more than I beat you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean, am I sure? We’ve had about forty matches in total, give or take, and about thirteen of those were one on one singles. I took you to a time limit draw on two occasions. So out of the remaining eleven matches, I only beat you three times, so you’re up by eight to three.”
Huh. Bryan didn’t know that. All the different matches he’s had with Nigel have all melded together, he remembers bleeding and being in pain in most of them, but he can’t remember all of them or who won or lost which. He just remembers moments, like the ending of that two out of three falls match, the blood at Unified. The blood in their last match. There were tag matches too, he can remember those. Especially the ones in which he got to tag with Nigel, they were always the best. He loved wrestling Nigel, getting to tear and claw at him, but he loved wrestling with Nigel too. They were a good team, and he remembers teaming up with him to take on Naomichi Marafuji and Takeshi Morishima, both of them wanting to prove they were good enough to pin the champ and get a shot at Morishima’s World title. Which, if he remembers rightly, Nigel got the pin that night. And he went on to beat Morishima for the title, which Bryan ruined the celebration by coming out to him and trying to pick a fight.
Of course he tried to pick a fight. If anyone was going to fight Nigel for the title it was going to be him—
Bryan suddenly feels an arm behind his back, and then it’s around his neck, Nigel catching him in a headlock.
“You think I’ve got it in me to get my score up to make us even, Dragon?” Nigel says, and like he’s not missed a day in the ring, he wrestles Bryan down onto the sand, and Bryan can feel it grazing his hands as he scrambles to push himself off, can feel it getting in every single crack and crevice of his clothes and body, but he can also feel the electricity of Nigel touching him, of Nigel wrestling him. It’s not in the ring, and it’s just a headlock, but it feels like everything slots into place, like that tiny piece of the puzzle that you dropped on the floor and could never find just magically slots in, and the whole picture is complete.
Bryan grips at Nigel’s arm, still just as strong as it ever was, even if it’s not as big, and he tries his hardest to wrench himself out of the hold, but with the sand he can’t get his footing, sneakers in the sand is not the same as boots in the ring. It takes a little bit of tussling before Bryan finally manages to flip them over, slipping out of the headlock. He pushes Nigel down onto the sand, gripping his wrists and pinning them down.
“It’s like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it.” Bryan says, and he’s straddling Nigel’s waist now, sitting triumphant on top of him.
“Maybe you never forget how to do it, but you can get too old too.”
“You’re not. You’re just making excuses.”
“You really are still an insufferable little brat, aren't you?”
And Bryan feels that all over his body, always felt it when Nigel called him an annoying little brat, always wanted to kiss him or punch him, do something to show just how much of a brat he could be but he never did. He never had the nerve.
Bryan leans down and kisses him before he can talk himself out of it, or before Nigel can push him off.
The minute his lips touch Nigel’s, for the first time in over a decade, Bryan feels like a firework goes off inside him, lighting up every single vein and nerve with pure magic. Nigel is warm and solid beneath him, and his lips are soft, their combined stubble and beard scratch together, and Bryan feels like he’s flying. Nigel’s kissing him back, and it’s not just one of the soft, scared, barely there kisses they used to have under the covers, it’s a kiss that Bryan’s pouring everything into, let’s go of Nigel’s hands and can’t help but let slip a moan when they come up to settle on his hips.
The kiss is only broken when Bryan feels like his lungs are going to explode from lack of oxygen and he has to take a breath. Nigel stares up at him, dazed, and his fingers are stroking just under the hem of his shirt, against the soft skin of his belly and making him shiver.
“That was…” Nigel says sitting up, pressing the two of them flush together, and leaving him with a lap full of Bryan.
“Long overdue.” Bryan finishes for him, pressing their foreheads together, because now he’s this close to Nigel he doesn’t want to stop, not until he’s pushed off and told no.
Bryan kisses him again, just because he can, and this time he gets fistfuls of Nigel’s jacket to keep him close, and he shamelessly grinds down into his lap. He doesn’t even care that they’re out in the open, because it’s dark, and it’s Nigel, and he didn’t think he’d ever be this close to him ever again.
“You get turned on when I call you a brat, Dragon?”
“You’ve never noticed?” Bryan answers against his mouth, and when Nigel huffs against his lips Bryan swallows it greedily, because he doesn’t know when he’ll get this again, whether Nigel will clam up or start teasing him again, pretending they’re nothing but people who used to wrestle together, not even friends, not even something.
“You never said.”
Bryan ignores Nigel in favour of kissing him, because that’s the better option, and Nigel lets it happen for a while before he’s pulling away, and dodging Bryan when he tries to chase his lips.
“Let’s go back. We can’t do this here.”
Bryan makes a noise, but Nigel’s right, they can’t spend all night here, and Bryan, well, he wants more than a kiss, if Nigel will give it to him. And they can’t do that here.
He gets up, offering a hand to Nigel to help him. A wave crashes loudly behind them, and Bryan feels like it’s as loud as his heartbeat right now, thumping against his chest as he looks up at Nigel.
There’s a moment where Nigel looks like he’s going to push Bryan out of his space, just turn away from him like he’s done so many times already this past week, but then he gets a hand around the back of Bryan’s neck and pulls him in, kissing him deep and hard like he’s always wanted Nigel to. And it’s everything he’s dreamed of, everything he’s ever pictured. Nigel’s hand is strong on his neck, and his mouth is hot and heavy and it makes Bryan sway on his feet.
“Nigel…”
“Come on, let's get back.” Nigel moves him by the hand on the back of his neck, before sliding it down to the small of his back as they make their way up the beach and back onto the sidewalk. The B&B isn’t too far away, but Bryan’s fizzing inside of his bones by the time they get there, feels like he’s having an outer body experience as they ascend the stairs, Nigel hot on his heels as they go.
He stumbles a little trying to unlock the room, the old key getting jammed in the door more than once, and it’s embarrassing that he’s in his forties and fumbling like a teenager, but that’s just how Nigel makes him feel, how long he’s been waiting to have this kind of moment with Nigel.
“Nervous?” Nigel rumbles behind him as they get into the room, and Bryan hates how small and inexperienced Nigel can make him feel. He’s old and he’s done this dance so many times that he can’t keep track, but Nigel makes him feel like a Virgin on prom night.
“Shut the fuck up.” He half growls half whines, slipping out of his jacket. Nigel does the same, and he’s barely got it off his shoulders before Bryan’s sinking to his knees in front of him. The carpet of the room is thin and he knows his knees are going to kill him after this, but God, if he hasn’t thought about this since he was in his early twenties, hasn’t wanted to suck Nigel’s dick for nearly two decades. Right now he doesn’t care if they both pop out and crack to pieces, as long as he gets his mouth on Nigel.
“Oh bloody hell, Bryan.” Nigel grits out when Bryan gets his cock out of his jeans, thick, hard and heavy in his hand. He’s seen Nigel’s dick before, in that woman’s mouth, in the locker room showers when he didn’t care who saw him naked, but he’s never been this close. Never held it in his hand, but he’s imagined it, dreamt about it and got himself off to it.
Bryan feels himself make an embarrassing noise when he slips his mouth down over him. He’s not been touched, or touched anyone, in months. Regal’s been busy, and before that he was too unwell with what MJF did to him, and the others, well he hasn’t been around to touch them. He’s touch starved and only noticing it now he’s finally getting to touch Nigel.
Nigel’s fingers find the back of his head, and tug at the hair tie, letting his hair down so he can get a grip on it.
“Always fucking knew you’d be good at this. Used to run your mouth so much, all I’d think about was stuffing you full and shutting you up.”
Bryan makes another noise at that, sliding his tongue along the underside of his cock. And if he could bear to take his mouth off of him Bryan would ask why he never did, because he’d have let him, it’s all he thought about too. He looks up at Nigel and grips his hip with the hand he’s not working his cock with, feels the dip that never used to be there, the slimness of his figure something that Bryan never expected to feel but it still feels right, like his fingers are meant to be there, mapping out every single line and muscle of Nigel’s body. Nigel’s face is slack with pleasure, eyes a little glazed over already, and Bryan thinks, wonders, how long it’s been for him. How long since someone touched him like this?
“Bry — get, get on the bed. I won’t last, and I can’t —“
Bryan doesn’t need to be told twice. He knows, they’re not young anymore, and they don’t have the refractory period they used to have, and Bryan really, really doesn’t want this to end with just a blow job, either.
He gets on the bed and pulls at his clothes, throwing them haphazardly off the other side of the bed. Nigel crawls on after him, a condom and lube in his hand, and Bryan can’t help but raise his eyebrows at him.
“Were you hoping to get lucky?”
Nigel smirks and bullies his way between Bryan’s legs, dropping them onto Bryan’s chest as he kisses him. “I don’t go anywhere without a condom, Dragon, safety first.” He says, and Bryan realises why just a little too late, but his apology is swallowed by Nigel’s mouth, and the strong hands that slide down his side to his ass short circuit his brain until he’s not thinking about anything but Nigel’s touch, and the heat from his skin, and the way he sucks and bites at Bryan’s throat like a starving man.
When Nigel gets his fingers into him, Bryan’s chest is bitten raw and his hair is sweaty and matted against the pillow from where Nigel’s been keeping him down with a hand to his throat as he chews at him like he’s a dog toy. And maybe he is, maybe he’s always been Nigel’s toy. It doesn’t matter that this is the first time they’ve ever been like this, he’s always been Nigel’s. Nigel’s the same way he’s Regal’s. The same way he’s Mox’s, Claudio’s, Yuta’s.
“I dreamt about you once, on the road,” Nigel murmurs against his mouth, and he’s got three fingers in him, and Bryan’s arching and squirming as he tries to get more, take more. “Dreamt about ripping those stupid trunks off you in the ring, pushing you down and making you mine, putting new trunks on you. Black ones, with a Union Jack across the arse. You know how much I hated seeing you in his gear?”
Bryan stutters out a breath. He didn’t know that. “You never said.” He gasps, and he grips at Nigel’s bicep, the bad one, but it’s not anymore, Bryan can feel the strength in it, how it’s holding him down, and in his head he can hear the thumpthumpthump of Todd Sinclaire’s hand on the mat, counting the three count.
“Nearly did, a few times. But your old man had his claws deep in you, always has, always will. Wouldn’t matter what I said, what I did.” Nigel’s teeth snag on his lip in a biting kiss, and Bryan feels his cock jump at the slight rush of pain.
Bryan feels like he’s floating, hands skimming over Nigel’s skin as he slips on a condom and lubes himself up. He thinks, as Nigel’s cock nudges into him, that at the time, if Nigel had asked him to stop wearing Regal’s trunks, he would have. At least, he wouldn’t have worn them all the time. He’d have worn black, or any other colour that Nigel wanted. Blue, maybe, just like Nigel used to wear in his early ROH years.
Fully seated inside of him, Nigel puts a hand around his throat, and he looks so beautiful on top of him. Just like he always did in the ring, just older now, a sharper jaw, softer eyes. Bryan pushes into his hand, hooks his legs around Nigel’s thighs, hands on his arms and pushes, flips them over to the middle of the bed.
Nigel looks just as good under him as he does on top of him, and he relishes in the hint of fear that crosses his face, that fighting spirit that Nigel’s so famous for starting to bubble to the surface.
Bryan rolls his hips, that first stroke of Nigel’s cock inside him making every single nerve inside of him sing, and he grips Nigel’s wrist around his throat, keeps it there like a pretty collar, and gives Nigel a matching one with his own hand.
“What, you thought I’d just lay down for you, Nigel? When have I ever done that?” Bryan grins at him, taking in Nigel’s shocked face.
“You always did come out on top.” Nigel says, but his free hand circles Bryan’s waist, and he plants his feet, pushing up into Bryan in slow, hard thrusts. It’s mind blowing, every thrust sending fireworks up Bryan’s spine, and his head tips back into the hand on his throat. It doesn’t cut off his air supply, but the pressure there, like Nigel could just choke him at any second, makes Bryan feel hot all over. It’s always will he won’t he with Nigel. Will he kiss him, will he punch him, will he beat him, will he take the title from him.
“I would have.” Bryan says, tipping his face back down, looking Nigel right in the eye as he rolls himself down, meeting the slow hard drag of Nigel’s dick.
“Would have what, Dragon?”
“Worn your trunks. You should have asked.”
“You wouldn’t—“
Bryan leans down, squeezing Nigel’s throat in warning, the same way he does to Yuta when he’s acting too much like a brat, and he kisses the corner of Nigel’s mouth, feeling the way he sucks in a breath, the way his dick twitches inside of him. “I would. I was his — am his, but I was just as much yours, always was, from the moment we met. Still am, after all this time.”
Nigel shakes a little below him, and Bryan pins both his arms down, taking what he’s wanted for so long now.
“Shit, Bry, I’m gonna—“
Bryan rides him through it, keeping Nigel’s arms pinned against the pillows. The way Nigel’s face contorts with his orgasm, the same way it did that night they slept with the woman from the bar, and Bryan’s been so desperate to see it ever since, to be the reason he’s seeing it, that it drives him a little crazy, and he only needs to stroke himself a couple of times before he’s coming all over Nigel’s stomach and chest, which is heaving with the orgasm and effort.
Bryan slumps down against Nigel, tucking his face into his neck and linking their fingers as they come down together. It’s funny, how long Bryan’s yearned for this, for Nigel, and that all the years he’s wanted it, the one thing that made him come and get it, get him, was losing to MJF. MJF doesn’t mean anything to him, other than being someone who hurt Regal, he’s no one to him, just a blip on the radar of people in his life. He’s no one. Yet somehow that loss, it rankled him enough to get on a plane all the way to England.
Was it really about the loss? The straw that broke the camel's back, or was it something else? Something subconscious, something deep within that Bryan hasn’t even begun to process yet? He doesn’t know. He just knows that he woke up the day after losing that match and he just — knew that this was where he needed to be. What was going to make Bryan happy, what was going to help him finally find his footing in the title picture. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about Nigel all these years, or not wanted him, but whenever he thought about him, it always ended with he’s gone, he doesn’t want to be found. But that morning, he woke up and said no, no more hiding, I need him.
“That woman from the bar, I couldn’t believe she was chatting you up. That you might have taken her back to the hotel. I kept thinking about it. About you touching her. I’d never seen you pull before, I couldn’t watch it.” Nigel says, breaking the silence that has fallen over them. His hand is on Bryan’s back, tracing the ridges of his spine with the pad of his finger.
“So you got involved?”
“I had hoped she would disappear, or I’d be able to get her to come with me to the bathroom or something and I could lose her. But she was relentless, she wanted your dick so bloody badly.” Nigel huffs out a laugh.
“Why didn’t you just tell her to leave?”
“Dunno, thought that would make it too obvious.”
“You should have made it obvious. It wasn’t her that I wanted. I was being polite, I wouldn’t have gone back to the hotel with her if you hadn’t come back too. I only managed to come because you did, I was watching you the whole time.” Bryan admits, and from where his cheek is pressed against Nigel’s shoulder he feels him let out a breath.
“I was imagining you were the one sucking me off, not her.” Nigel admits, and Bryan sighs. There was a middle woman that night, figuratively and literally, getting in the way of what they both wanted, because they were both too stubborn and too scared to admit how they really felt, who they really wanted.
“It could have been so different.” Bryan says.
“No,” Nigel says after a while. “It wouldn’t have been different. Even if we’d fucked, or been something, that wouldn’t have changed anything. WWE would have still rescinded my contract, I’d have still gotten Hepatitis. I’d have still come here, still done all this. Who I was getting my dick wet with would have never changed that.”
“You don’t know that, you don’t know how you—“
“I do know that, Bryan, I do know. I can’t tell you exactly when and where I got the hep, but I do know I’ve never had unprotected sex, so it came from wrestling. Whether we had been something I’d have still gotten it, still lost my contract, and still retired. What, you think that if we’d have had a thing back then that everything would have turned out perfectly? That I’d have come to the WWE with you, won the title a bunch of times and still been there now? Come on, Dragon, you’re smarter than that. You know that’s not how the world works.”
“Maybe,” Bryan says, resigned. He wishes it could have been like that. Forever entangled together. The only thing that would have made winning that first world title in WWE would have been Nigel being there with him, or being an insufferable prick and interrupting him, ruining the celebration, just like Bryan did to him in ROH. “But it’s hard not to think about what could have been.”
Nigel falls silent, and Bryan knows he’s thinking about it. What could have been. About a world where Nigel was never a retired pro wrestler turned car salesman, where he went ahead and became one of the most decorated wrestlers the WWE has ever seen. Because Bryan knows that given the chance, Nigel would have been bigger than he ever was. Everything that Bryan got, Nigel would have gotten double, he just knows it. Nigel connected with the crowd in a way very few others ever have. Maybe Bryan’s got the upper hand when it comes to wins, but he knows that if Nigel had managed to come with him, that tally would look a lot different now.
“The night you won the title, that World Heavyweight title, was the day after I retired.”
Bryan nods, because he remembers. “I text you.”
“You did. I didn’t get back to you. I was going to, but that night I couldn’t. And then the next morning, I was nothing but an angry shell of a person. You didn’t deserve what I would have said to you, so I didn’t.”
Bryan feels his stomach twist. He knows how it feels to know that your world as you know it is coming to an end. The world of professional wrestling is like no other, and when it gets ripped away from you, it’s like being sucked into a black hole. Bryan knows that if someone had been texting him about winning titles the day he was forced to retire, he wouldn’t have been in a good frame of mind either. He shouldn’t have done that to Nigel.
The words slip out of Bryan’s mouth before he can stop them.
“Come back with me. Come to AEW.”
Nigel stiffens underneath him, and then he untangles himself from Bryan, tying off the condom and throwing it away in silence.
“We’re going to Wembley in the summer, Nigel. We haven’t announced it yet, but Tony Khan is going to soon. We could be at Wembley, me and you. He brought ROH, we could go back to running it, the Pure title is back, just waiting for you to put it around your waist again, you could —“
“No.”
The word is vicious and angry, as Nigel finds a pair of boxers out of his bag and slides them on. Bryan gets out of the bed, finds Nigel’s robe and ties it around him.
“Nigel—“
“Fuck you, Bryan. Why are you here? What are you trying to achieve? Is this some fucking recruitment mission from your boss and the old man? Thought if you could fuck me and get me all buttered up that I’d agree to come back?”
“No, that’s not — I told you, no one knew I was coming here. Not Tony, not Regal, no one. I woke up on Monday morning and the only thing I could think about was finding you.”
“Right, because after a decade you suddenly decided I was important again?” Nigel sits down on the bed and buries his head in his hands. Bryan stares at the expanse of his back, the resigned and exhausted drop of his shoulders.
“You’ve always been important Nigel, I’ve not been the best at being around, but—“
“The day after I retired, after you won the title, I sat in my car and all the anger, the rage, the sadness, it just exploded out of me. I screamed and I cried, I shouted and I swore,” Nigel’s voice starts to shake, the tell tale sign that he’s about to cry.
“It wasn’t fucking fair, Dragon. There was nothing wrong with me, I’d passed every fucking physical I could, every medical, every blood test and drug test and piss test. There was no fucking reason for him not to clear my arm. I had multiple letters from my doctors, there was nothing wrong with it, I wasn’t at risk of injuring myself without surgery. I was fucking fine, Bryan.” Nigel shouts, and there’s tears running down his face.
Bryan’s never been good with people who cry, whenever Yuta cries he hands him a tissue and lets Claudio deal with it because he’s better at it. He used to stare at his sister, not knowing what to say when she cried after a break up, waiting for her to stop crying. When his mom used to cry about his dad before they divorced, he’d lock himself in his room and wait for it to stop.
But this is Nigel. He’s never seen Nigel cry.
“I couldn’t afford the surgery they wanted, but I could have sorted something, if I really wanted it. But they wouldn’t even return my calls. I wanted it written that I’d be signed if I had the surgery. They wouldn’t even call me back, Bryan.”
Bryan gets on the bed and kneels behind Nigel, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I took the TNA call, and it was good, to start with. But then it started going tits up. Bad booking, getting Hepatitis. They said they’d pay me while not working but they didn’t, that’s why I worked at the grocery store. I could barely afford my fucking rent,” Nigel says, and he drives the heels of his palms into his eyes, his voice thick and claggy with sadness and tears, anger lacing it like venom.
“When they fired me, I knew that was it. I called WWE, but they didn’t want me anymore, even though I proved that my arm didn’t need surgery. I was too old, too broken. A walking fucking disaster. So I thought let’s give it one last fucking run, go out on a high note. Lost most of the matches, didn’t get to wrestle any one I wanted because you were all fucking off being big stars elsewhere. And just like that, life was over.” He says, sniffing away some of the tears. Bryan squeezes his shoulder, because he doesn’t know what to say. His heart hurts, because he knows that everyone was either at WWE, him, Claudio, Mox, or Joe, Doug, Aries still being in TNA, Colt was on the indies and couldn’t make it. Nigel’s last matches were with only a handful of people that meant anything to him.
“And I was angry, Bryan. I was angry and I was upset and I was fucking broke. My own fucking mother paid for my flight home for Christmas. There was a couple of times where I wanted to drive my car right into the fucking Thames, go down with it.” Nigel says, and his shoulders shake with the emotion of it all, and Bryan lays his forehead against the back of his neck, winds his arms around his waist and just holds him.
“But I’ve had nearly fourteen years to come to terms with it, to make peace with it, to finally let go of all of that hurt and anger and be at peace with the fact that it wasn’t supposed to happen for me. What I got was what I got, the ROH stuff, everything with us, it was enough in the end, I made it enough Bryan. And I told Regal no, and I’m telling you, no. Because I’m old, I’m old and I’m tired and I have no business getting back in a ring. Even for Wembley, even for Ring of Honor. Which, by the way, your boy is the Pure champ, you telling me I should take the title from him in this return you’re booking in your head? Want me to beat him up?”
Bryan can’t help but let out a puff of breath against the back of Nigel’s neck, thinking about Nigel and Yuta in the ring together. It’s never been lost on Bryan how much Yuta looks up to him, and Nigel, because a lot of Yuta’s style and techniques are uncanny. But Nigel and Yuta, grappling down on the mat, well, it’s a thought that could certainly keep Bryan warm at night.
“If there’s one thing about Yuta, it's that he doesn’t back down from a challenge. If you were back in the ring you’d probably not have time to even announce it before he’d challenge you. You’re the longest Pure champ, he’s got the most reigns. It would be a match to prove who’s the best Pure champ.”
“And who’ve you got your money on, Dragon?”
“You, always you.” Bryan says, and he presses a kiss to the back of Nigel’s neck, runs his fingers over the skin of his stomach, it used to be softer, Nigel always had a little belly, and Bryan used to stare at it when it just softly pudged out over the top of his trunks.
“So. Wembley, huh?” Nigel says, and the hint of wonder in his voice makes Bryan feel like hope is not lost. He’s not going to push now, Nigel can tell him he’s blue in the face that he’s made peace with never wrestling again, but Bryan knows that you don’t cry over something you’ve made peace with. You don’t have shrines and sit and stare at old belts if you’ve made peace with it. So maybe this is going to take longer than he thought, but it’s okay, he’s got time, he hasn’t got any plans, and Tony told him to take as much time as he wanted before coming back to work.
“Yeah. Tony’s gonna announce it soon.” He says, and it’s almost like he can see what Nigel’s thinking about. Nigel coming out, two fingers raised in the air, iron in one hand, the Pure title around his waist, to eighty odd thousand people screaming his name. The way it always should have been.
“You know,” Bryan says, because apparently he can’t let sleeping dogs lie and even if he tells himself not to push he just can’t stop, “making a return doesn’t mean you have to get back in the ring.”
Nigel’s body doesn’t freeze this time, nor does he push Bryan away.
“Oh yeah, what should I do, become a ref?”
“You could commentate, or be a manager. Regal called you for Blackpool Combat Club for a reason. He knew he was coming in and he was gonna’ mentor me and Mox again. He wanted you by his side, I know how he thinks. There’d be no one better to head hunt for talent than you. People like Yuta, Lee Moriarty, Daniel Garcia, they’ve watched and learned from you all their lives and who better to come back and teach them in person? If I’d have had you next to me, I might have done a better job at showing Daniel he was a wrestler, not a sports entertainer.”
“Jericho’s done good with him so far, you can see that.”
“But with us he’d be better. Look at Yuta. He gets better every single match, he’s meaner and he’s sharper. One day he’s going to be better than me. I often think that he and Daniel are going to be the new me and you.”
Nigel snorts, “They fucked yet?”
“Yes, so they’re already doing better than we did.”
Bryan can feel the smile break out on Nigel’s face even though he’s not looking at him, his face still pressed into the back of his neck.
“You know everything there is to know about wrestling Nigel, you can talk the talk and walk the walk, you could be dumped on a commentary table tomorrow and you’d do a better job than half the comentators out there.”
Nigel doesn’t say anything, and Bryan doesn’t push, at least anymore than he already has, and just strokes his fingers over the skin of his tummy, and then gently coaxes him back into bed. His eyes are red and puffy, and Bryan just wants to make it go away. To show Nigel that he can come home, that he doesn’t have to stay away anymore, there’s a Nigel McGuinness sized crater in wrestling just waiting to be filled back up. It’s not too late, he’s not too old.
Bryan sits up against the headboard and gets his arms around Nigel’s shoulders, bringing him down against him. These old fashioned B&B bedsheets are scratchy against his bare skin, but somehow he’s in his fourties and in bed with Nigel McGuinness, in a place that looks like they got the last room for a last minute booking. It’s like nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once.
“You don’t even know that Tony Khan would want me.”
Bryan smoothes his hand down between Nigel’s shoulder blades. “If you don’t think Regal hadn’t already talked about you to him at length then you’re crazy. And if you haven’t noticed, he’s a massive mark. He’d flip his little fan boy heart out if he got Nigel McGuinness back in ROH.”
“You’ve said mark to many times since I’ve seen you for my liking.”
“I’ve said it like twice.”
“Too many times, Dragon.”
“Point still stands. If he knew I was here I’d have had to turn my phone off by now.”
There’s a long silence, and has already started falling asleep when Nigel speaks.
“It’s still a no.”
Bryan sighs, a little deflated, and he scoots down the bed so he can curl under the covers against Nigel’s side. They’ll be leaving tomorrow, because it will be Sunday and Nigel has work on Monday morning. But Bryan doesn’t have anywhere to be, he can wait, as long as it takes, for Nigel’s answer to turn into a yes.
“Goodnight, Nigel.”
++
The journey back to Liverpool is wet and windy, with big fat raindrops thrashing against the windows and the wipers going at a million miles an hour as Nigel drives. They’d gotten up that morning and had breakfast, took another short walk on the beach before the weather turned bad, before checking out of the B&B and getting in the car to come home. They’d hit Sunday traffic, and then the weather really picked up making it worse, and they’ve been slowly crawling back to Nigel’s the past couple of hours.
The rain soaks them when they finally run into the house, and it feels cold and unlived in when Nigel finally manages to unlock the door. He’s immediately shoved up the stairs, and Bryan goes easily, letting Nigel bully him all the way into Nigel’s bedroom.
Finally seeing the inside of the room is like seeing into Nigel’s mind. It’s nicely furnished, with a big fancy bed, a couple of bedside tables and lamps, plush carpet and a wardrobe and a dresser. But above the dresser are two shelves, one with the Pure title on, and above it, one with a replica of the ROH World title on. They both sit proudly, and two photographs are framed on the wall either side of them. One, a picture of Nigel with his classic look, the bomber jacket, the sunglasses, the blonde spiked hair, and the title is backwards around his waist, so you can’t see the design but you can see the straps. The other, a picture of them, and Bryan thinks it might be from the night Nigel lost the Pure title to him, they’re shaking hands, and Bryan’s got the World title around his waist, Nigel’s got the Pure title on his shoulder.
He realises he’s been staring at it too long when Nigel shoves him down onto the bed face first, hands threading into his bun and pulling it out, letting his hair splay out so he can pull at it.
He lets out a broken noise, but he goes down easily for Nigel, letting him strip him down and bend him like a pretzel, putting him in god damn submission moves as he fingers him, eats him out, fucks him into oblivion. Bryan’s thoroughly worked out by the time it’s dinner time, and his body aches like he’s been through a match or been running the ropes for hours.
It’s good, though, it’s fucking wonderful, actually, because Nigel doesn’t seem to want to put him down now that they’ve open the gates on an intimate relationship. He doesn’t want Nigel to put him down, and he doesn’t want to put Nigel down, so he doesn’t, and they stay holed up in his bedroom for the rest of the night, even eating dinner curled up between the sheets, which Bryan would yell at anyone else for. But Nigel kisses him like he’s the very best dessert he’s ever had, so Bryan is not going to complain at all.
He doesn’t mention the belts on the wall, or the picture of them, because he’s done enough pushing.
Bryan sleeps next to Nigel that night, and they stay in bed right up until Nigel has to drag himself out and shower before he ends up late for work the next morning.
They fall back into their routine, Nigel goes to work and Bryan finds himself things to do, gardening mostly, if it’s not pouring down with rain or too cold. They spend their spare moments making up for lost time, and Bryan feels like his brain and body go through a hard reset. He’s always known that he needs Nigel, he’s felt the absence of him like a missing tooth at the back of his mouth for years now. Its not always felt, but when you do, the size of the gap is a shock. And now Bryan’s realising just how big that gap has been for so long. Reminds him that when he’s successful here, he’s got to fix what’s going on at home.
They go to the pub on Wednesday night, and Jenny squeals in delight when she sees him, pulling him down into the same seat as last time, telling him all about the week she’s had at work — she’s a teacher, which Bryan can see how she’d fit in that environment —, and Robbie, Tom and George fill him in on all the soccer scores like they’re the most important things in the world. Bryan likes Nigel’s friends, and he happily helps Jen beat them all at poker, and he laughs at her flirting when they drop her home, drunker than she was last week.
They fuck and they watch wrestling and eat dinner together, Nigel works and Bryan keeps himself busy. It’s a kind of domestic bliss that Bryan hasn’t had in a long time. Maybe ever.
A week after they get back from Blackpool, nearly two weeks after Bryan showed up at Nigel’s workplace with just a bag and a mission, Nigel comes back from work, Bryan’s washing the dishes after he’d baked banana bread, and Nigel looks at him. He looks scared, nervous, but there’s a sparkle in his eye, that fight and determination that Bryan remembers so well dancing around in his pretty eyes.
“Nigel?” Bryan says, drying his hands on the dish towel.
“Do it.”
“Do what?”
Nigel bites at his lip, runs a hand over his face and lets out a nervous breath and says,
“Call Tony. Tell him I want to talk.”
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SOFTLY, WITH GENTLENESS
FEAT; soukoku/double black
WC; 1.1k
SUMMARY;
Chuuya lets his guard down during a fight, which earns him an injury. He goes to Dazai's to treat his wounds.
or if you'd like to read it on ao3 :)
Chuuya has an unmeasurable confidence in his fighting prowess, and rightfully so. He's unmatched on the battlefield, ruthless for the blood of his enemies.
But even the great gravity manipulator has his moments of weaknesses.
Frankly, Chuuya did feel as though it was partially his fault. It was a Friday, and he had been more than looking forward to the weekend (even though it would be just like the weekdays. Chuuya would work for hours on end until Dazai decided to intervene with a scheme to distract him).
He just wanted to get the mission over with, and decided to let his guard down just for one fight. It shouldn't be too much to ask for.
The moon was high in the sky and a blanket of tranquillity had embraced Yokohama.
Chuuya had killed his enemies as instructed and was about to leave before he heard a loud shout from the distance. Alerted, he spun around and nearly dodged a dagger that was aimed right at his chest. A stab that was meant to kill.
A shot of pain flared through his right arm as he bounced back quickly, clenching his teeth. The perpetrator was a tall blond man with brown eyes full of revenge and anger. This was the leader of the organisation he had to eliminate. No wonder he was the one who led that doomed organisation, Chuuya didn’t even hear him coming.
“You killed my comrades,” he said, tone low and hand trembling with the dagger in hand. “I-I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you.”
A smirk began to form on Chuuya’s face as he pulled a gun out of his pocket and pointed it straight at the man. Without a word, Chuuya fired it right at his head.
He was doing all this killing for the Port Mafia he swore to protect with his life. Chuuya doesn’t question the orders Mori issues him, he just carries them out with precision and accuracy.
Chuuya stepped forward to check that the man had really died before appraising his own injuries. It wasn’t a deep cut (okay, maybe it was), but definitely would serve as a hassle in the next few weeks to come. He ripped part of a portion of the deceased man's shirt and tied it around his arm to alleviate the bleeding.
He left the scene with pavement stained a crimson red and corpses lying all over. Someone from the Mafia would clean this up soon, he hoped.
The path to Dazai’s home felt like muscle memory to him. Travelling all the way across Yokohama to his own apartment while leaving a trail of red was certain to catch the attention of anyone else who was up at this late hour.
Upon reaching his door, Chuuya twisted the doorknob open and stepped inside. He has given Dazai several reminders to lock his door for safety purposes but Dazai paid no mind to Chuuya’s words, always saying something along the lines of, “You’re overthinking it, Chuuya.”
Chuuya found Dazai sprawled out on the couch, a lamp in the corner of the room emitting a soft, warm glow. Empty bottles of alcohol and moulded books litter the floor of his home and despite his situation, Chuuya’s brow creased in worry.
He rummaged through one of the cabinets for a first aid kit. Chuuya places it on the coffee table and heads to the kitchen to run his wound under some water.
Dazai’s kitchen was more of a mess than his living quarters. Unwashed bowls, broken utensils, and was that the smell of rotting fish?
Chuuya makes a mental note to clean it up after he dealt with his own issue. He headed to the sink, bit on his lower lip and prepared himself for the sharp sting of pain.
“C-Chuuya?” Dazai’s voice called out to him from the couch amidst the loud splashing of water against Chuuya’s bare skin.
He returned to find Dazai half sitting up, a thin blanket thrown over his legs.
“Help me out, will you?” Chuuya replies, picking out a small tube of antibiotics from the drawers. “Apply this over my wound.”
Dazai gives him a look of playful shock. “Whoa, you got injured?”
Chuuya gives him a pained smile. “Yes, but I’ll tell you about it after. Now, quick. I'd rather not die of blood loss.”
Dazai saved his questions for later. He uncapped the tube and Chuuya sat down beside him, bracing himself for the pain he could never get used to.
“Ready?” Dazai asked.
Chuuya nodded, his left hand finding Dazai’s and connecting their fingers. “Just get on with it.”
Dazai gave him one last look before squeezing some of the substance out before dabbing it lightly on Chuuya's arm.
He flinched as soon as his flesh met the antibiotic, instantly tightening his hold on Dazai’s hand.
Dazai doesn't complain at all throughout this process, which is pretty astonishing considering the deathly tight grip that was turning his hand purple.
He finished off by dressing the wound with gauze, with a half conscious Chuuya leaning against his couch. Crickets can be heard from outside and night air flows in gently through a half open window.
“I thought you leave no room for mistakes on the battlefield,” Dazai said.
“Yeah, I don't,” Chuuya replied and added regretfully, “But I let my guard down this time.”
“So you decide to come to my house, expecting me to be awake to heal your wounds?”
Chuuya looked over at him and hit his shoulder not-so-gently. “It wasn’t a choice I made willingly, asshole. I would’ve bled out to death if I went to my apartment.”
Dazai threw his arms up in the air. “All the more you should’ve gone to your place!”
“Maybe I should have, since talking to you has me wishing for death!”
“Is that an alternative way of saying ‘thanks for saving my life’?” Dazai teased.
Jokes aside, Chuuya was grateful that Dazai had lent him a hand (literally too). Although Dazai definitely wasn’t the type of person who’d be big on grand gestures and gifts, he knew that he could count on Dazai, both as an ex partner and lover, when it really came down to it.
“Thank you.” His words came out squeaky and hesitant, which was the exact opposite of what Chuuya was going for. He cleared his throat.
To his utmost surprise, Dazai laughed. Not a soft, whispery chuckle that would be lost to the breeze. A full on belly-hurting laugh.
Heat quickly crept up Chuuya’s neck. “Oi. What’s so funny, bastard?”
Dazai regained his composure, close to tears. “You’re acting as if you don’t know that I love you.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Dazai stood up and headed towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything for supper, Chuuya?”
(Chuuya didn’t move for three minutes straight. He won’t believe that this was how their first ‘I love you’ had played out. Dazai made him boiled eggs for supper. He accepted it without so much of a thanks, chewing in silence. After a lot of thinking, Chuuya decided to hatch a plan to get back at Dazai. It will, without doubt, go very well.)
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Chapter 1
16 Garden Place. Brooklyn. 4:36PM, the last box find its place on the old wooden floor in my brand new and first apartment, well, if we can call this brand new. Brick walls, old floors, a metallic staircase, I have no idea how actually old this building is but I couldn't care less now. This place is now mine and I couldn't be happier than this.
It feels very odd to finally have a place of my own at 22 years old but I think, I haven't been this happy and excited in my entire life. I know it looks very mundane for some people to move in but for me, this feels like all my cells have fully regenerated, a whole new chapter is being written. I'm a new person, this old depressing and sad life is now behind me, I wanna burry it, sometimes visiting it, like standing in front of a grave of an old friend but not feeling the pain anymore, being able to remember it but a smile on my face.
My mother who was one of the brightest Broadway artist of her generation passed away when I turned 14 and I couldn't count on my father since he doesn't exist, well, he does because I wouldn't be here if he wasn't but my mother used to date a lot when she was in her late 20's so I guess I'm the result of one of her endless night... So since then, I'm living with my aunt Vivian and actually, things got better since. Living with my mother wasn't easy: her schedule, the fame and all of this made my childhood very different than the other kids, not bad, but different.
Aunt Viv is what I call the parenting goal. She's open minded, always here when you need her, she understands so much, she sense your emotions like no one else and respect them. She knew exactly when I needed space and when I only wanted to cry and let go in someone's embrace. It wasn't easy for her neither, loosing her older sister, being now in charge of her niece in her late 30's, not knowing what it's like to take care of a kid and even less of a teenage girl who just lost her mother. I admire her a lot for that. She's been here all my life, taking care of me when my mom couldn't but now, our bound is kind of unbreakable!
-Hey Y/N! Was this the last box?
I hear Florence speaking louder being upstairs, her forehead dripping with sweat, panting from the long day.
-Hell yes!!!
-No fucking way!?
I hear her sprinting down the stairs, the biggest smile on her face, running towards me, collapsing into a massive hug.
-Yaaaaaaaaay!!! I thought this day wouldn't end!
-Come on it wasn't that bad Flo!
-Summer in New York is a pain in the ass Y/N, moving in at this time of the year is a sign of madness!
-Ugh, such a drama queen! Want a drink to help you with that?
I smirk, making a path to the messy kitchen, serving ourselves what we needed.
Florence is my best friend since I think high school. She moved in New York with her family from England when she was 15 but her accent is still going strong and it's still the best to hear! Aunt Viv and Flo are the only two real important people in my life, the people that I'm proud to call family and nothing will ever change that!
Spending the end of the day with Flo between the boxes is the best, too tired to start to clean and organise my apartment now, we sat around a brand new table made of cardboard, holding our beers and pizza as the night settles gently.
-And what about now? What are you gonna do? You have your flat now, you still want to work at your aunt's wine bar?
-Honestly I don't know yet. I like it there, it's cosy. I just moved in, I think it's secure enough to stay there for a little while.
-Solid answer!
-Haha yeah I know!
I smirk, flipping my hair in a proud and sassy way.
-But at the same time I feel like I wanna do something more later, like, maybe going back to college?
-But I thought you hated it?
-Well... Literature wasn't the best choice I think, that's why I only stayed two years but I didn't really know what to do after high school so I just picked that. But I think now I have the time to think about it properly and not pressure or push myself into anything. I want to take my time, make the right choice.
-Why do you have to be so wise all the damn time? I swear it's annoying!
She laughs, making fun of me.
-What did you except, I'm an old soul!
I copy her tone.
-Do you have any ideas yet?
-Maybe...
-Tell me!!! Don't leave me hanging!
A sparkle in her green eyes.
-I think I wanna do theatre, drama, something into the industry.
-What? Like your mother?
-Not like her, I mean, not singing obviously but acting, yes!
-You're not scared about what people will say? Or expect from you?
-I don't know and you know what? I don't care! I will make my own path!
I say proudly.
-Well well well, cheers to that then!
She smiles, bringing her bottle to mine, a proud smile on both our faces.
The evening goes on as we enjoy ourselves until she leaves in the middle of the night, finding myself alone in my new place, a content smile on my face. My time has finally arrived. Life will be good now, I will make sure of that!
~
Hello beautiful people!
I'm proud and happy to present you this first opening chapter! I hope you enjoyed this introduction as much as I loved writing it 😊
I would love to have your feedbacks! Feel free to tell me anything ✨
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A Study in Blue and Gold- Chapter Four
Be sure to check out the incredible art by @korruptbrekker for this fic here!
Thank you again to @the-duke-of-nuts for being my fantastic Beta and for helping me stay motivated with this chapter, I wouldn’t have kept going without you😊💚🖤💚
There doesn't really seem to be anyone wanting to be on a taglist for this, but if you want to be tagged to keep up to date, let me know 😊
Read this chapter on Ao3 here
Read from the beginning on Ao3 here
This is my attempt at writing a more action focused chapter, but there are no specific warnings that I can think of- do let me know if you want something tagged!
A Game Is Afoot
It had only been two days since Logan agreed to take on this job for Roman, and it was safe to say that Logan’s large penthouse apartment ‘looked like a bomb site’ according to Patton. Logan thought that was a bit of an exaggeration since no actual bomb had hit the property, but he had to admit that he was getting carried away with breaking down this case to its foundations. The clean, white walls that were usually baron were now covered in documents and string pinpointing to different places and people. He had case files with any possible connections to The Pyrite Syndicate littered on every possible surface. Whenever Virgil came over to help, which was uncharacteristically frequent, he found himself cleaning up chairs and tables in order to at least sit down. Patton and Virgil found themselves popping in on a rotation. Patton during the day, Virgil at night but they hadn’t been making any form of significant progress.
As Logan stared at the files in front of him, he ruffled his hair in irritation. How could someone be this elusive? He found himself glancing at his phone far too many times for his liking, almost hoping for any kind of communication… something he can use. So far, all he had from his investigations by his own network and the police force were a few blurry photographs of people who could potentially be Hyde, but it was extremely unclear. He had to maintain his usual smug optimism, Hyde will either come out of the shadows again to get Logan’s attention, or he will make a mistake that will give Logan an advantage… hopefully both.
Little did Logan know at this moment, Janus Hyde had been organising a plot to get Logan’s attention with the help of his right-hand man Remus, he had cased out the Tower the day before and put everything into motion. That was how he knew this was going to be spectacular.
While Logan was searching through files, Janus was stood outside The Tower of London. He looked around and observed all the hustle and bustle of the tourists, their typical behaviour of gawping at the Tower baffled him. It wasn’t that amazing. He tutted as he had to forego his usual black outfit, the capelet and gloves in order to blend in. Janus obnoxiously chewed a piece of gum and reluctantly got out his phone to take some pictures of the Tower before adjusting his Union Jack cap. He sent a quick text before walking into the building, he knew exactly what room he would be ending up in.
He took his time, looking at artefacts that didn’t interest him in the slightest, he knew that he would raise suspicion if he beelined straight to the room in question. He silently thanked Remus in his head for doing all of this research for him the day before. He always sent the right-hand man out first, he had an eye for accuracy, and he had every possible flaw covered, no one else in the Syndicate worked quite as hard as Remus, and no one else was quite so loyal. So thanks to him, this plan was going to go without a hitch. One set of artefacts caught his eye and he snickered as he looked at the golden vase on display. ‘That’s a fake, I should know… The real one is with me… has been for three years now... very nice guy who gave it to me... Not that he had much of a choice.’ He adjusted his cap once more and glanced around making sure his face didn’t appear on any security cameras as he continued to wander around the rooms, until he reached the one he needed.
He entered the pride and joy of the Tower, the room where the Crown Jewels were kept. The tourists stared in bewilderment and Janus always found it bemusing that they left items this valuable so exposed, they are more or less impossible to steal… but clearly they underestimated someone like him. As the announcement blared out that the Tower was closing in ten minutes. It was Janus’ cue as he made one final lap of the room, checking behind the glass cabinet in the corner and was relieved that Remus was able to drop his bag of supplies there, more relieved that it hadn’t been noticed by anyone. He walked back into the center of the room and took a deep breath; he removed the mask that he kept in the pocket of his jeans then slipped it on his face so only his birthmark would be visible if his face was caught on a camera. It was time for the opening curtain.
Janus slowly rotated his head in a circle, scrolling through a playlist on his phone looking for the perfect song. He didn’t notice the security guard walking up behind him until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Sir. The Tower is clo-” Janus turned around and quickly incapacitated the guard with a spray from the pocket sized can of chemical solvent that Remus created for him. As soon as he was sure that the guard was unconscious, he dragged him to the main entrance to the room and propped him up just outside, he wasn’t heartless. He sighed at the interruption and continued to scroll until the perfect song came up in the playlist. 1812 Overture. Perfect. He pressed play and listened as the music began to belt out of his speaker in his phone. He typed out a message sent it, smirking as the doors immediately fell closed behind him. Janus had five minutes, and he was going to make them as dramatic as possible.
Following the tempo of the music, he grabbed the bag from the corner and brought it next to the cabinet containing the Crown and the Scepter. He dug into the bag and got out a white marker pen, he began to write backwards on the glass so it would show the correct way on the security footage.
‘HELLO DETECTIVE.’
Janus snickered as he drew a smiley face in the ‘O’ and drew a bowler hat on the top of it. He had never really used a signature before, but now would be the perfect time to start. He took the chewing gum out of his mouth and placed it on the glass, he grimaced briefly in disgust before rummaging in the bag for the final item he needed while softly humming along to the music blaring from his phone next to him. He took out the tiny object and slowly but deliberately placed it in the middle of the chewing gum, aiming for the center of it.
The music was reaching its climatic part, so he had to make this quick. He raced behind him and took hold of the fire extinguisher and gripped it firmly. Following the tempo of the music once again, he paced forward towards to cabinet aiming for the gum. As the canons crashed in the music, Janus rammed the fire extinguisher through the glass watching it shatter around him. He grinned as he watched it fall like snow and smashed the remaining fragments so he could walk through unharmed. He smirked as the alarms finally began to blare out and he sat down on the mock throne holding the crown in his hands, impressed by how heavy it was. Janus placed it on his head while holding the Scepter and then looked directly into the nearest security camera with a wave. He then watched as the cameras switched off one by one. As he put the Crown with the scepter into the bag, he heard the police sirens wailing from outside getting closer by the minute… five minutes exactly, not bad.
He left his on the throne and escaped through an already planned exit. As he ran back out onto the street while the police stormed the building, he smiled as he celebrated his victory. He called Remus with a spring in his step.
“Hey buddy. Yeah, it all went without a hitch… Haha of course, all thanks to your brilliant work might I add… Do you want me to order takeout for everyone tonight? My treat… Excellent… Do me a favour? Have someone pick me up from Fenchurch Street will you? I don’t really want to be wandering around with the most valuable artefacts in London in a rucksack… Thank you.”
He could still see the spectacle around the Tower of London as he waited for one of his men to arrive. It was all so excessive, six police cars obstructed the entrance, multiple armed officers scoured the surrounding area and one unmarked car pulled up. A tall, large man in a plain beige suit got out of the driver’s seat. He was clearly stressed from the way he tugged at his hair and aggressively paced around shouting out orders. One officer ran up to the man and relayed something back to him, as the man sighs in frustration tugging his phone out of the pocket of his trousers. Janus tried to make out what he was saying, but it was impossible with the typical London hustle and bustle coming past him. The phone call ended, and the man sighed before making his way into the Tower.
A black car pulled up beside him a few minutes later and he tutted in disappointment that he couldn’t have waited around longer, but he climbed into the car and glanced over at the taxi heading towards the Tower. Janus smirked, that blue scarf could only belong to one person.
While Janus was driving away, Logan was going over the words from his phone call with DI Gomez in his head. The crown was stolen, all the doors were shut tight because of the security measures, impenetrable glass shattered by a fire extinguisher… How?
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the taxi driver calling out the fare price, and he quickly paid before practically leaping out of the taxi. He flashed his warrant card once again as he was allowed under the blue tape. He examined the floor on his way through, but there were no obvious clues or anything he could use to his advantage. He walked into the Tower and was directed to the security office by a very sheepish Sergeant Robinson, Logan just smirked in response. He glanced over at the scene and saw Virgil working hard to gather the evidence. Virgil noticed Logan watching and gave him a timid wave which Logan nodded at in response. He finally made his way into the security office to be met by a stressed DI Gomez, Logan could tell immediately from the state of his hair, how tousled and tugged it was. That along with the broken buttons on his beige suit, and Logan could see an entire dynamic shift when he realised that Logan had arrived. He held his hand out which was shaken vigorously.
“DI Gomez? You sounded very frustrated on the phone. I need you to explain everything again, I need every detail.” Logan insisted, and DI Gomez pointed over to where Patton was waiting by the series of computers containing security footage.
“It would be easier just to show you. Cake will show you all the footage we’ve got… You’ll see why I insisted you came.” Gomez’s rough voice was filled with exhaustion instead of its commanding but respectful tone. Logan nodded and walked over to Patton, concerned when the usual smile he was greeted with didn’t quite reach Patton’s eyes.
“Hey Detective. I’ll just play it… there’s a lot to look at.” The level of worry in Patton’s voice was something Logan had never heard before. So he stared at the computer, watching the scene unfold before him.
As he looked at the events that occurred, analysing every detail, he had to admit that this was bold. Although the face was obscured, there were other things that would help identify him. Logan began to make notes in his mind.
‘Male. 5ft10. Birthmark on his face. Someone who attempted to blend in with the tourists. Confidence in his actions. This was planned in advanced, it’s too smooth to be an off-the-cuff burglary.’
His eyes widened as he saw the message being written on the glass, and the drawing which must be becoming a signature for him. It was Hyde, no question. Which also means that Logan was right, he is being incredibly bold, and he planned this whole spectacle to get his attention. That was fast, Hyde must be keen to make some kind of deal.
Logan could practically feel Patton tense up next to him as the next set of events unfurled. He leaned closer to the screen as the gum was pressed on the glass, but he couldn’t make out what else he put on there. As the glass smashed once again in the footage causing Patton to flinch, Logan knew that it must have been something strong to break impenetrable glass. As Hyde then sat on the display and waved at the camera before the footage cut out, Logan had to hide the smirk trying to break through as he looked at Patton. Patton was busy scribbling furiously in his notebook, the pen was practically digging through the paper.
“Sergeant Brigh, is something the matter?” Logan used his authoritative voice to bring Patton back around, and Patton smiled sadly.
“Logan… This is bad. The Palace are going to be on everyone’s back, especially Ro…man’s.” Patton caught himself before he continued with that nickname, Logan glanced at Patton suspiciously but that was a deduction for another time. There was a timid knock at the door which caused everyone to turn and face the sound. Virgil stood apprehensively in the doorway, his blue gloved hands pressed firmly on the door looking only at Logan, his face was a little paler than usual.
“S-sorry. Detective Phoenix? You’re going to want to look at this.” Virgil pointed out into the main room and Logan immediately rushed to the door following Virgil into the crime scene. Looking at all the blaring lights, the thousands of pieces of shattered glass, no breaches of security and no obvious escape routes. He watched while putting on his own blue gloves took a piece of paper shaped like a crown off of the edge of the display throne and handed it to Logan slowly.
“T-there’s writing on it.” Virgil’s worried tone caused a wave of apprehension to flow through Logan as well. He carefully unfolded the paper because it still needed to be analysed for prints, even though Logan knew they weren’t going to find any because Hyde definitely wore gloves. He read the note carefully, fascinated by the cursive handwriting.
My Dear Detective Phoenix,
Sine you’re ‘oh-so-clever’. Tell me… How did I manage to both steal and escape with one of the most prized possessions in London? How did I find a way to break through that glass? We’re much alike, Detective… We’re both clever.
You have three days to work it out, and I’ll be in touch… Rest assured, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.
J.H
Patton came out of the security office and caught a glimpse of the writing, he glanced at Logan who was almost beaming at the words; being set a puzzle was Logan’s weakness. Patton then glanced at Virgil who instinctively looked at him too. They shared a silent look, one of concern and sincerity that they would stop Logan from diving too deep into this case. Logan handed the paper back to Virgil with a flourish.
“This is going to be fun.”
Meanwhile, Janus was sitting in his room back at The Syndicate office celebrating how he had managed to pull everything off without a hitch. He took note of Logan’s mobile number before handing Remus his phone for him to destroy. As he opened up a new phone container and set up the new SIM card, he smirked at how he had initiated a cat and mouse game between himself and the most notorious detective in London. He logged only two contacts: Remus and Logan. As he entered the last digits of Logan’s number, he smirked once again at Remus.
“This is going to be so much fun.”
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#janus sanders#ts janus#logan sanders#ts logan#patton sanders#ts patton#virgil sanders#ts virgil#remus sanders#ts remus#sherlock au#sherlock references#action#ts fanfic#sanders sides fanfiction
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One year later since my last post...
I'll have to say, so many things have changed. For the better. But also, I couldn't have been more out of touch with my own feelings. Time that could be used reflecting went on to the following:
Spending time with said ex-colleague, our relationship has evolved into something stable, comforting. A little less lonely in this city
New apartment by myself, furnishing/cleaning (I have so much more to say about this hehe)
New job with new benefits and perks, long work hours yet still having work life balance. Time spent learning how to deal with breaking news, make sense of filings, find specific figures, to make sense of this financial work
Everything is nice, but I am also yearning for more?
Boyfriend: how we can have a better quality relationship instead of just being each other's ranting bags/favour do-ers. Quite frankly we are in different phrases of life. I got out of my rut, while he's still knee deep in his. I don't want to discount his troubles, but damn the negative vibes sometimes just eats to me. For someone who's been in a rut I ought to be more understanding, but I also can't discount my own feelings of wanting something more than just "ugh everything in my life sucks" vibes creeping around me all the time. what is the right sense of balance in this case?
New apartment: I find myself becoming much happier since I moved to this space. A space that is truly mine, without much sharing apart from bf coming over regularly and helps with logisitics/some chores/companionship. I think for the first time in my life I truly feel like I'm creating a safe space, a HOME for myself. I never felt like that in the past. So that leaves me wanting to do more for this house. A new air fryer? More decor? fancy plates? A projector? What can i buy to make my home more homely? Or am I just spending too much and having to make space for so many more new items which could drag me down potentially? i'm also becoming neater and more organised (i know right who am i), so how do i want my space to be respected?
New job: how can i do more to drive up the career ladder? do i even want to do that when i already have enough in terms of pay and benefits? or do i want to keep building that validation amognst my colleagues and managers? what is it that i want to do for myself at this job? truth be told, its a cushy job that comes with high;y stressful moments and so so so much more to learn as well. how do i keep that balance of learning more without overwhelming myself?
I haven't been going for therapy ever since that B*etterH*lp counsellor semi-ghosted me after our last session. The good thing is my company now has quite a few mental help resources, so i'm trying to restart my therapy journey again. because despite all the new and good thigns coming in, i find myself shoving all my inner feelings and moments for self-reflection aside. sometimes the negative thoughts creep in, and i just feel kinda disillusioned/jaded in a way. i feel like i want to push people away and just be on my own. and i dont know why. i feel like it could be because im expecting more from my bf and hes just been too cooped up in his own negativity/issues.
i spend too much time doom-scrolling and thinking about all the other things that needed my immediate attention more. why would i spend time digging up on how my parents raising me has made me who i am today, when i have to spend time soothing my bf or preparing a tv hit for monday or thinking of what to cook for dinner or just being on twitter reading up on wars and influencer gossip? which is why i am finally back on this little space of mine.
I need time for myself to reflect.
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First post from Italy
Hopefully, I'll be able to continue and update here many many times more.
Here I'm sure I'll be honest, not like I probably will be when I have to submit my experience essay at the end of the program which I found out I'm going to have to write.
I'm thankful I'm a very conflict avoidant person, as I've told jokingly to my friends "I don't conflict", because I don't get along with my roommate too well. It's not a roommate from hell type of situation, she's actually pretty quiet and organised; my difficulty is with her being absolutely paranoid and conflict-searching. She's afraid of everything, EVERYTHING that happens. And not in the anxious way, I know how to deal with that, when my brain works a bit better than it's doing now, I'm a pretty anxious person as well (I just realised I referred to my brain working better, when I'm anxious, that's a can of worms I'm not sure I want to open), but in a very sheltered/spoiled kid way, and I have an awful time with that.
In my family growing up practicality was one of the most valued traits and/or skills you could ever have, and I have some trouble understanding when it isn't that important or deeply rooted in someone. You could say I'm in survival mode on the constant and that's why this is getting on my nerves, it's probably partially true.
Why I'm glad I'm very conflict avoidant, is because I don't want to make my annoyance, a 'me-problem' if you will, an actual problem, spoiling what little calm and quiet we do have. You know, a little peace and quiet and otherwise slight inconvenience is so much better than yelling matches and not talking to each other.
So there's that.
The university here is beautiful. Very clean and new buildings, loads of insanely nice people, good food places nearby. I like it a lot. The teachers are very cool (I met two so far), and the lectures will be interesting.
The third nearest store is the one I decided I will be going to to buy my groceries. The two closest are not too nice, they're a bit expensive, way too crowded and one of them is in the part of city one doesn't go to alone (which I discovered the hard way: I walked right in that direction I was not supposed to, so I turned and walked back as fast as I could, more on this in a next paragraph). The third one is a big store, you can find everything you could possibly need, the lights are not too bright, though they're cold, which I don't prefer usually. It has air conditioning, no crowd, only a few people walking around inside, the radio they play is pretty nice and quiet, I can go inside without needing headphones (that's insane for me, I have not been able to comfortably go to a grocery store without them for 3 years now). So I have that figured out.
The next obstacles I will need to tackle will be public transport (I've walked everywhere), figuring out the online university platform (if anyone has anything useful about Moodle please help me out), and setting a routine for myself.
The routine will be an interesting thing to deal with. Right now I still feel very uncomfortable doing everything, like eating, cooking, sleeping, but I hope my brain will come around. It's hard to plan on the long run because, I still am unable to think about the fact that I'll be living here for a few more months, so I think refusing to create a routine here is partly because of that.
I sent in the last of the documentation required to my home university, hopefully I'll get my scholarship soon as well. (they still have not sent it, it's starting to get concerning)
I also caught a bit of a fresher's flu, and have a 2nd degree burn from the tea I was drinking, trying to treat the aforementioned flu.
I had 3 migraines the past week and a half, from stress I'm guessing.
Now for the "fun" story:
I wanted to buy some food from the chinese food store I found online to be a 3 minute walk from the apartment I'm staying in, so I headed there. The first thing I got spooked by was the crowd of people, especially youngsters, high schoolers that swarmed in front of the fast-food establishment, but I got through the other side of the crowd. There I saw a bunch of teenage guys, walking in a hive-like formation, and past them another bunch of shady looking fellas. It wasn't particularly about their looks, but the way they spoke, yelled if I'm honest, it was loud, rowdy and I don't speak Italian, or whatever language they spoke, I'm pretty sure it was Italian though. And they weren't the funny laughing rowdy kind, just generally yelling, and I'm scared of that. Anyway, when I turned back around I encountered another similar rowdy group of young adults. Later, I told this to my friend, who's been living here for a year now, I found out that is the part of town you don't go to, unless you have a deathwish, or just want to be mugged. So I'm very happy I turned back from there. Sad news is I won't be able to go to the chinese food store here.
#erasmus+ mobility#autistic adult#travel with autism#exchange programme with autism#erasmus#autism#autism spectrum#erasmus tips#autistic positivity
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Winter White Wolf
CHAPTER 2
If there was one thing that was for certain, it was the fact that Bucky blamed Sam for absolutely everything that happened, or what went wrong in his life. Why? Because if it hadn't been for Sam, Bucky would be living in peace, in his apartment - alone with Alpine. But instead, Sam had to piss off the organisation that they were currently after by just being a down right asshole. Not that Bucky was anything less than an asshole, but he preferred to stay quiet. Which ultimately led to another shoot out, both Bucky and Sam being outnumbered and having to call in for backup.
Why were they here in the first place? Well, they were currently stuck in this damn run down airport because they were seeking out evidence. Low and behold, whilst Bucky helped the last civilians that somehow managed to wind up in the middle of this freakshow, out of the airport, reinforcement arrived. Natasha and Sam got to work, fighting those members of the organisation until Natasha was thrown through, what Bucky assumed, was a shop window.
It was then he saw that woman, Irina Petrova, come sliding in. He had to admit it looked pretty badass. She launched herself at the man who had thrown Natasha, easily subduing him by grabbing the back of his head, smashing his face into a run down water fountain. There was a difference in their style of fighting, both Irina and Natasha, but even Bucky could see that this small woman was a force to be reckoned with. And she took each blow like a god damn champion, she looked so fragile, easily breakable. He watched as she turned, taking a pocket knife out of one of her many pockets to throw at a man approaching Sam, hitting the person clean square in the chest.
"Thankyou!" Sam called, as he knocked someone else down with his wings "But damn girl, who trained you?"
'Director Fury." Irina told him, looping her foot round the ankle of a man who came behind her, making him fall to the ground.
"We should spar sometime." Sam suggested, as he swung at someone else.
"I personally wouldn't, Sam. There has been a few times she has knocked the breath out of me." Natasha admitted, as she stood up from the broken glass, to finally join the fight and shoot at one of the four men who tried to subdue Bucky.
Bucky believed that. His first meeting with Irina had......surprised him. She had knocked the wind out of him completely, not only with her fist but by that force thing she did with her hand. He was also given another reminder as she slid over on her knees, easily wrap herself round one of the men trying to subdue Bucky, wrapping her legs around his neck and using that force to bring him to the floor, before standing up. When the fight was over, Bucky hadn't even realised Torres was there. Of course, he would be doing damage control. As he approached, he informed them that there was in fact, no civilian casualties. Suddenly, Torres looked over at Irina, raising his brow.
"I feel as if I know you." Torress said suddenly, causing Irina to looked at him raising her brow.
"Irina Petrova." Irina offered, her gaze suddenly going round the room - she was staying on guard.
"Petrova....Petrova....Oh! You are one of the Agents...Well, you were an Agent under Director Fury, weren't you?" Torress asked, causing Irina's gaze to glance back at him as she gave him a firm nod "Joaquin Torres. I....I provided information for your mission in che-"
"You knocked over my coffee." Irina suddenly stated, tilting her head.
"Ah...Sorry about that." Torres said, lowering his head "I..I can always buy you another coffee?"
"It won't be necessary." Irina quickly said, turning towards Natasha "We need to get out of here." She said.
Bucky couldn't have agreed more. Heck, he wanted home, he wanted to see alpine. What he didn't want was to be stuck here with three god damn annoying people. Nat wasn't annoying, or was she? She had her moments. So, they made their way back to the quinjet, only to be ambushed once again as they stepped out onto open ground.
"Any of that magic up your sleeve, Petrova?" Sam shouted as he ducked behind a car, Bucky leaned up, pointing his hand gun at one of them, shooting.
"You're the one with wings but you ask me for magic?" Irina countered, looking over at them "Don't worry, I got, Samuel."
"You got this?" Natasha shouted over at her, and Irina gave a firm nod, standing and raising her hand towards the approaching assault. When she did, they fell back. "Now, Let's go people." Natasha called, as they made their way towards the quinjet, each bullet that was fired was being thwarted away with each move of Irina's hand as she moved. Once they were safely onboard the quinjet, the doors shut behind them, protecting them from whatever the hell was after them.
"That was pretty awesome." Torres panted, looking over at Irina, who simply raised her brow at him. "It wasn't awesome?"
"It was normal." Irina offered, going to the cockpit as she flicked on a few of the switches. "Everyone buckle up." Did Bucky think it was normal? Heck, what is considered normal these days? He woke up from his brainwashed state and had to fight aliens, and made friends with a talking racoon and tree. Nothing that seemed normal was the norm for him now. His gaze passed over to the woman that was now in control of their flight, whilst Natasha sat beside her. Sam and Torres were having a conversation on how to upgrade Redwing. Bucky didn't feel like talking, no, he was still trying to piece together in his mind where he knew this woman from.
Did she make him feel uneasy? Hell yeah. That little woman was like a mini tornada, a pocket sized assassin with some kind of power when she lifted her hand. He had a fucking vibranium arm and she still managed to floor him. Did Sam have that on footage? Most likely. As the woman turned on autoflight once they were at a point to cruise, she twirled around in her chair, locking onto his gaze. Did he care that he was caught staring? No, he simply shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes locked on her own. Was this a staring contest? He was the best at them. Irina sat back in her chair, her brow arching slightly as she tilted her head.
"Do you always stare?" She asked, her gaze never faltering.
"You get used to it." Sam called, but if she was tempted to look at Sam, it didn't show - she held Bucky's gaze.
"Oh? So its a favourite pastime of yours, Sargeant Barnes?" Irina asked. Bucky almost felt his jaw clench.
"I know you from somewhere." Bucky said, running his tongue along his bottom lip "I can't find the memory, but I know you're in there somewhere."
"Oh?" Irina asked, folding one leg over the other. "I can refresh your memory if you want me to?" Bucky nodded his head at her words "It will cost you a cheeseburger and a shake."
"No." Bucky answered instantly, shaking his head.
"Too bad, good luck in finding that memory." Irina whispered as a smile pulled on her lips. Bucky rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching. He wanted to know. Heck, it was only a cheeseburger and a shake, he could pretend to agree to the deal.
"Fine. Ill do it." Bucky said, exhaling deeply.
"Payment first. I aint no sucker." Irina said, swinging the chair back round to face the front of the cockpit. Did that really just happen? Did he just agree to buy this girl a cheeseburger and shake to simply know how he knew her? That was ridiculous. But, it had been torturing him since he met her. Was it whilst he was brainwashed? Those memories came back piece by piece, not that he wanted to remember killing people.
"Your big cyborg brain still computing?" Sam called out, laughing. Obviously, he had seen and heard their words, and obviously he had witnessed Bucky being almost blackmailed. Wait, it was blackmail. Rolling hsi eyes, he looked away. Did he want to do it? No. He most certainly did not "Ah, she got you man!" Sam exclaimed. Yes. Irina most certainly did get him on that one. Well, two could play at the same - he would get the information and then leave. Was it rude to leave a gal at a cheeseburger joint by herself? Heck, yes. His sisters would smack the head of him for it, but - this was different times and this gal was a stranger to him.
Once they had landed, Irina swung round in her chair once more, staring at him. Exhaling deeply, Bucky stood up "Burger king does pretty good cheeseburgers, but I am more into a place called Shake Shack." Irina said, standing up as she walked towards the exit "Have you tried it, Sargeant?" Why was she still calling him that? Did it irritate him? Yes.
"No." Bucky replied firmly as he followed her out, and Irina turned around, dropping her jaw as she walked backwards.
"Sam, he hasn't tried Shake Shack?!" Irina exclaimed "That is criminal."
"He is an 106 year old man, Petrova. He barely knows what pizza is." Sam joked, causing Irina to look at Bucky. He did know what pizza was. Well, he was recently introduced to pizza.
"Criminal." Irina whispered, shaking her head dramatically. "Well, allow me to introduce you to the best burger and shakes you will ever have, Sargeant."
"Don't let Stark hear you saying that. He will literally fight you to defend Burger King." Natasha joked, walking out of the quinjet.
Irina laughed, shaking her head "Stark is the reason I am going to get high blood pressure." Irina cleared her throat, looking at Bucky "Are you coming, old man? Shall I get you a wheel chair? Also, I am driving."
"No you're not." Bucky said instantly, boy was this woman annoying.
"Yes I am. Its my car, I am driving." Irina said, walking into the compound as Bucky walked after her. Was she always this stubborn? Bucky couldn't work with someone this irritatingly stubborn.
"Then we aren't going." Bucky said shrugging, playing it as if he didn't care. He did. He wanted to know it had been annoying him. How did he know her?
"Then you don't get your answers," Irina said, turning to look at him with a smile. Bucky clenched his jaw, was he annoyed? Yes. This was obviously amusing to this woman. Exhaling deeply, he nodded.
"Where you going, frosty flakes?" Stark called, as Bucky looked over at him as they passed the kitchen area.
"Cold snap here is bringing me for burger and shakes." Irina said to Stark, amusement lacing her voice. Stark looked at Irina and then at Bucky with a raised brow. "He doesn't remember me. I am going to tell him how he knows me, once I get my god damn cheeseburger."
"I am being blackmailed." Bucky suddenly said, causing Stark to snort. Did he find this amusing too? Clearly he did.
"Yeah, good luck with that, Barnes. Let logan paul here finish her fries before you force any information out of here. She can be snappy when hungry," Stark said, offering a sarcastic smile. Great.
"Come along, old man," Irina exclaimed, turning around and walking out to the corridor. Begrudingly, Bucky followed. Once they reached the elevator, he turned his head to look at her. Did he feel like grabbing her head and smashing it off the elevator door? Yes. But he knew that she would most likely put up one hell of a fight, and from his last experience, he knew better. As the elevator reached his floor, they stepped in as she hit a button. He looked over at her again, watching as she leaned against the wall, humming to herself. Even the sound was annoying.
Suddenly she stopped humming, turning to look at him as she elevator came to the garage "Still want to drive?" Irina asked, holding the keys out to him. He took the keys from her, which one was her car? Walking out to the garage, he followed Irina until she came to a black car, it was a small black sports one. Unlocking it, Bucky got into the drivers side. Once Irina was in, he turned and looked at her.
"Where is it?" Bucky asked, clenching his jaw as he did. Irina cleared her throat, tapping on the screen that was in the middle of the car until a map came up with directions "Great, computers. Got to love them." Bucky whispered, starting the car up as he started on the journey.
"It must be so different for you." Irina suddenly said, turning her head to look at him "Waking up, being in this new age."
"I guess you could say that." Bucky mumbled, running his tongue along his bottom lip. Different? It was a whole fucking new world. He didn't have time to adjust, he was just thrown into the deep end. I mean, aliens? He fought aliens. How crazy was that? The impossible had become possible since he woke up. Sure, during his time tech was new and upcoming, but not like this. As Bucky was driving, he glanced over at Irina who was tapping on her phone in front of her, and he could tell that whatever she as doing, it had to be interesting by the way her expression changed every god damn second. Finally they arrived at the burger joint, it was like a little shack almost.
Suddenly, Irina turned and looked at him as she put her phone down "I actually feel really bad for making you do this." She said, did she? she should.
"You should." Bucky said instantly, and Irina nodded.
"I will tell you, okay?" Irina said, and Bucky switched the engine off, turning to look at her "When you were the winter soldier, you were sent to kill Nicholas Fury. I was with him in the car when you were..sent." Wait, she had met him? Bucky looked way, his mind reeling over that knowledge. If she had met him, how the hell was she still alive. More to the point, if she knew what he was capable off, why wasn't she afraid of him? Or was she?
"What happened?" Bucky asked, shifting in the seat. He remembered snippets of that day, but not all of it.
"It was an inside job. Well planned, I must admit. We were in traffic when they started chasing us, rammed us. Luckily Fury is very skilled in driving." Irina said, looking away "When we managed to at least get away from those who were disguised as cops, there he stood. In the middle of the road. He blew the car up, well sort of. Before he got to us, Nick had a mouse hole, it cuts through any material and we were able to get underground." Irina cleared her throat. Bucky noticed how she was using the word 'he'. Not, referencing to Bucky in general, but to the Winter soldier. Did he feel guilty? Heck, he felt guilt for all those he caused harm to and killed when he was brain washed.
"I am sorry." Bucky said, looking at her "My name is James Bucky Barnes, I am no longer the winter soldier." It ws part of his...rules. Of making amends.
"I know." Irina said, smiling at him "I don't blame you for any of it. How could anyone? It is so easy for others to blame you for what happened, but it was not you." No. It wasn't him. But he still felt responsible, it was his hands that were covered in that blood "Alright, we can go back now." Irina said as she moved to put her seat belt on.
"No. We came for burgers and shakes." Biucky replied slowly, looking at her. Irina looked at him, raising her brow before smiling and giving a nod of her head.
When they sat eating, it was in a comfortable silence. He noticed how Irina hummed constantly. Was it because of the silence? Maybe. But Bucky enjoyed silence, so....he found it irritating. He also noticed how she didn't sit still, she fidgeted, moved constantly. Which led to him constantly telling her to stop. Did he regret in coming in? Mostly no because she was right, the cheeseburgers were awesome and Bucky swore he ate like 5 of them, and the shakes were fantastic too.
#bucky needs a hug#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#winter soldier fanfiction
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Day 3 & 4
Luckily the last two nights I got a somewhat better sleep so have been feeling slightly better. No thunder and lightning which always helps! If it thunders then I can’t sleep and it heightens my anxiety and emotions. Bad anxiety plus bad sleep means being tired and emotional the next day, which continues the negative cycle! It has been very hot with no power at night, so no fan either. So although it has still been hard to sleep, I’m grateful to God for every night without thunder and lightning!
Last night I went for a walk with M’s kids and the dogs to the beach which was nice. We passed a few houses and lots of goats... It reminded me of all the times I’ve bought someone a goat for Christmas through a charity like TearFund, like, “There’s the goat you got your Grandma for Christmas, it provides this family with milk and an income.” Obviously not the same goat, but it made me realise those gifts do have impacts. I got bitten by some mosquitoes on our walk which was not good. I take malaria tablets and put on insect repellent every day because it’s super prevalent over here, but when it’s hot and humid because it rains all the time and water pools, there are mosquitoes around.
I was quite dirty after our walk so I needed a shower, but the power was still off so that means no running water. Luckily I’d filled a bucket with water the previous day, so I literally had a classic cup over the head type shower, with my phone torch for a light... I don’t think I would call it a shower, and I don’t think I got super clean, but I definitely felt like a missionary! I’m getting used to my feet and hands constantly being dirty, and kids touching my clothes. My first proper shower when I get home will seem so luxurious I’m sure! A friend mentioned that it will be hard for me to process the parallel realities around the world, which is very true. Especially since I’ve just spent six weeks travelling and seeing lots of different parts of the world and how people live. It’s pretty crazy just how different peoples lives can be only a flight away, but they all coexist at the same time. Worlds apart but also so close...
Yesterday and today I have been in the library, organising the books and working with the kids. There is often not many or no kids in the morning, then lots in the afternoon. Today for example, about three kids arrived at 11am, and then when I returned from my lunch break there were 15 kids for the afternoon! I’m realising that it doesn’t matter what I do with the kids, as long as they are engaged and getting attention, that’s what’s most important right now.
People back home keep saying that I’m probably here to help with the education stuff because of my background. That maybe I could bring some structure and lesson plans or something. I’m not sure yet. I feel my place for the next few weeks is to watch and learn, rather than to try and change anything. I don’t know the first thing about their culture, so who am I to think I can bring all the answers? Of course I have skills in this area, so I’m sure there’s work I can do, but I don’t want it to be for nothing. If anything, they need basic resources first like exercise books and pencils. They have to turn kids away who don’t have either, which makes me so sad because when I closed my business I had heaps of spare exercise books and pencils...
Today in the library I had my first moment of feeling like I’m where I’m supposed to be, which was awesome. There was lots of kids and I tried to stick to hanging out with the girls. We started off with some colouring and then I did some maths with them. I love maths! It’s pretty basic stuff, “what comes before/after this number?” and I would write unique questions for each kid based on their level as fast as I could in their books. So I’d literally be going from child to child either writing questions or marking frantically. All the kids waving their books in my face, pulling on my clothes and arms, “Aunty! Aunty!” It’s quite cute really.
At one stage I was so busy I had someone playing with my hair, one colouring my fingernails with highlighter, while my other hand marked two books at once and gave them high fives for their great work, while other kids pushed on me with their books yelling, “Aunty I’m done! Aunty!” I literally laughed out loud, it was so great. Then M looked over at me from the couch where she was breastfeeding her child and said, “I’m so glad you are here. I am tired, if you were not here I would need to close the library and have a break. God has sent you here to help me.” I smiled and replied, “Yes, maybe God has sent me here so you can have a break!” She laughed and said, “Yes, God has blessed me with you.” I felt like crying then and there, but I didn’t.
It got me thinking that ministry and living out God’s call doesn’t always look how we think it will or want it to. I didn’t really want to be teaching kids for three months when I just gave up my education business of five years, but serving isn’t always doing the things we want to! I can’t deny that I’m good at it. I thought that I’d be working with children and adults who are sexual abuse victims, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m just doing it by loving them, smiling at them and educating them.
The culture over here is definitely not rewards based like it is in New Zealand! There is lots of yelling and hitting. The adults hit the kids and yell at them constantly, for things that make no sense to me. Then they wonder why the kids hit and yell at each other...? It’s not my place to say anything, but it makes me super uncomfortable. So I try my best just to smile at the kids and praise them lots when they do good work. Show them I’m friendly and calm, not someone who will yell at or hit them.
I mentioned in my previous blog post that God feels so far away right now and a few friends got in touch with some encouragement. I truly do have the best friends in the world! I can’t quite believe that people care enough to take the time to read my long blog posts, and then also reach out to encourage me. You guys are incredible! I’m so thankful to God for you all. Every message and comment is so meaningful. Two in particular I want to share on here in case they help anyone else.
The first is the idea that when a child learns to walk, the parent initially stays close, holding their hand and catching the child as it falls over. As the child learns to walk, the parent stops holding their hand but rather moves further and further away, cheering on the child as they try and walk to their parent. At first the child will be scared, with low confidence, and will fall on it’s butt often! The parent isn’t trying to be cruel by standing further away, quite the opposite really. And that’s what God does with us. He is always there, but as we mature in our walk with Him, He wants us to walk to Him, to close the gap and grow in the process. While I’m not a parent myself, I have seen children learn to walk and I quite like this analogy. It paints God as a loving parent, not a cruel one who is punishing us. But I am definitely falling on my butt right now!
The second thing was the footprints in the sand poem. Most Christians will know it well, but I’ll copy it below just in case. I’ll let you read it yourself to best capture the idea. Overall it’s been a much better few days here in The Gambia. Here’s hoping there’s no thunder and lightning tonight...
One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.
After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.
This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
"Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
You'd walk with me all the way.
But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me."
He whispered, "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you
Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints,
It was then that I carried you."
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