crazy little thing called love || ghost boys x fem reader

1 || denver

edited december 30, 2023

You were jumped up rather ungracefully, potholes in the dirt Denver roads making the car bounce. You took a minute to stop focusing on your music, looking up and out of the window.

It didn't seem too special, was your initial reaction. It changed, though, the more you pulled in the town; there was lots of bright green grass, nice-looking houses, kids playing and teenagers your age hanging out. You briefly wondered if this really was where you'd permanently stay, but you pushed the thought away as soon as it came.

As if your dad noticed, he finally spoke up, making you pull the headphones to your Walkman down, turning to face him.

"Pretty, isn't it?" He said with a forced laugh. "I promise you, sweetie, we're staying this time."

You shook your head lightly. "Save it, dad, you've said that the last five times." Secretly, you hoped you actually would find a permanent place to live. You never lived somewhere long enough to have close friends, a boyfriend, a friend group, or even to remember the directions off the top of your head.

"I know. But I spoke to my boss, and we're for sure staying. I don't want to keep moving us anymore."

You didn't respond, staring back out the window. Green lawns blurred past you and the cracks in the road pushed the car up, making your head knock against the window, a dull ache forming in the area. You heard your father sigh before you pulled your music back over your ears.

Only a few minutes later you pulled up to the lawn of a big, pale yellow house. It was fancy, with a balcony, a big green lawn and a white picket fence. You sat straighter, looking to see if you could see through the windows and get a glimpse of your house.

"Nice, isn't it?" Your dad said after you pulled your headphones off and hopped out of the car seat. You looked at your dad over the front of his car and nodded, biting back a grin.

"Its alright. Nice lawn, though," you said, going around to the trunk where you opened it and picked up some of your bags.

Your dad came around and helped, making small talk as you carried boxes and bags in to the house.

"Theres a moving truck full of furniture that'll be here in, say, twenty minutes," your dad said,  slamming the trunk closed with his knee, arms full of brown moving boxes. "I'm gonna get them to move all our stuff in. You can pick out your room while I unbox all our stuff for the kitchen, alright?"

You nodded, pushing the door open with your shoulder before heading in to the house. You dropped the box of silverware on the floor, heading up the stairs and listening to the hollow sounds of your converse thumping on the floorboards.

There were three rooms upstairs, one small, one huge and one a medium size. You chose the medium one, the layout nice and the window letting light stream in. Not to mention, it had its own smaller bathroom attached.

Speaking of the window, you noticed, there was a bedroom directly across from it. From what you could make out, you saw a desk with a photo on it, several figures you couldn't make out in the photo, but it looked something like a team. Above it, there was a medal on the wall, and a few other photos around it. You held back from snooping anymore, though, in fear of being caught and being labelled a creep on your first day there.

You turned around to face the many boxes in the hallway that you would have to drag in and unpack. You picked up the first and carried it in with a heavy sigh.

——

Two hours later and the furniture had all been put up, your bed made and ready. There was still many more boxes that needed to be opened, but the majority of your clothes had been put away and anything else that was important, so you laid down for a minute.

Your mattress was soothing against your sore back, tired from several hours of lifting, placing, lifting, placing, using the bathroom, and then lifting and placing some more.

After a few moments of laying down, your father called from down the stairs, asking you to go down. With a stretch and a few cracking bones, you hurried down the staircase, almost missing one of the steps on your way.

Your father was standing above a box in the kitchen, pulling forks and knives out and putting them in the drawer.

"Honey, could you run down to the convenience store? Its just down the street, called the Grab 'n Go or something like that. We need milk, and you can pick something up for yourself, too," he handed you a bill, the other reaching back in to the box.

"Sure," you said, taking the bill. "Don't stick your hand in to a box full of silverware without looking, thats how you lose a finger."

Your dad rolled his eyes, shooing you away.

——

The walk to the store was short and warm, the sun beating down on your bare legs and arms. The material of your shirt and shorts were thin enough, thankfully, that you didn't have to worry about sweating to death.

When you finally stepped inside the cool store you sighed in relief, the air conditioning an immediate relief to your burning body. You steered towards the back of the store, grabbing a carton of milk. You set your gaze on a slushy machine, just past a boy with unruly blonde curls playing a game.

You slid behind him, your shoulder bumping in to his slightly. You mumbled an apology, heading towards the machine, before the man yelled angrily behind you.

You turned, coming face to face with the boy, face red with anger. "You motherfucker," he seethed, "I almost beat my high score!" His hand gripped the front of your shirt, lifting you until you were stuck on the tips of your toes.

"I'm sorry," you said quickly, anxious at his reaction. "It was an accident."

He held you there for a few moments more, staring at you angrily, before roughly pushing you back to the ground. He turned and motioned for his friend to follow him, the other person looking very confused, before shoving in to your shoulder when walking past you.

You watched him leave, confused, before turning back to fill up your drink. You thought of him when you paid and walked home, wondering to yourself what his problem was, and if everyone in this town was like that. If that was the case, it didn't seem that great.