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theysayitscrazy · 3 years ago

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Eliminated Part 2 (NSFW)

FanFic Friday Week 4 (Slightly Late) @rebelwrites

Clay Spenser x Reader (Reader is Full Metal’s sister)

Let me know if you wanna be tagged when I post.

You stare at the invitation with mild contempt. It was overly shiny and sparkly, and covered in glitter. It was just plain gaudy. The amount of pink included should be outlawed. You hated this time of your 20’s. Everyone you knew was either getting married, buying houses, or having babies. Yet, you were still single. You chose your career, over a relationship. Well, according to your ex, that’s what happened.

In reality, you grew apart and lived different lives while struggling to make things work. In the end, they hadn’t worked out, and the problem had to be eliminated.

That had been a year ago. Now you were thirty years old, single, and too focused on your career to even meet a guy outside the office. And the dating world had gone digital in the last decade, leaving you completely out of the loop on where to even begin. The idea of meeting a guy from the internet left you unsettled and turned off.

You sigh and toss the envelope on the bar in front of you and reach for your drink.

Your phone chirps and you reach for it as someone sits in the seat next to you at the bar. Annoyed, you look up from your phone to give whoever it was that decided they needed to sit so close to you in an empty bar, a piece of your mind, only to find the blond haired and blue-eyed charmer known as Clay Spenser.

“Spenser,” you acknowledge.

He leans forward on the bar and motions for the bartender. He orders a beer and then snatches up the invitation. “Holy pinkness,” he chuckles.

You roll your eyes as you skim over the email you just received from a client.

“Always working?” Clay asks.

You glance up from your phone and realize you’re being rude. Sighing, you turn off the screen and set your phone down. “Usually,” you grumble in response.

Clay’s smile is easy, but you can see the way he’s watching you, like he’s reading your mood. “Bad day?” he asks.

“Yes… no… I don’t know.” You sigh and take a pull off your glass.

Clay chuckles again. “I’ve never known you to not have an answer.”

You shake your head and look down at your phone as a text message chirps through. You can feel Clay’s eyes on you, like they usually are, but you ignore him, like you usually do. Ever since that night at your brother’s house, when your ex had been eliminated, things had gotten interesting between the two of you.

The flirting was fun. But that’s all it was. Fun, right? He worked with you brother, he was younger than you, if only by a couple years, but he felt… wholesome. He wasn’t tainted like you were.

Before you can answer the string of text messages that came thru, your phone rings. When Harvey’s face pops up the screen you frown and debate answering it. You were done with him for the day. You groan and answer the facetime call. “Hey.”

Harvey’s smirk is annoying as he looks you over.

You rolled your eyes, knowing what he saw. White pinstripe halter stop that buttoned down the middle and showed ample cleavage but stayed professional. The black matching suit coat was off and draped around the back of the bar stool, so your vibrant black and watercolor tattoos that covered both arms were on display and contrasted against your professional attire.

“You need something?” you raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for his sardonic comments to start rolling in.

“Yeah, for you to get your head out of your ass. Let me guess, you’re at some dive bar, drink in hand, wallowing self-pity,” Harvey shoots at you as he levels you with a typical Specter head tilt.

You narrow your eyes at him as Clay chuckles.

“Boo hoo, your last college sorority sister is getting married. What do you care? You haven’t talked to the chick in two years. Put your big girl panties on and man up. I need you to meet a client.”

You pick up your drink and stare Harvey down as you toss back the remnants of the straight whiskey.

Harvey smirks, “We both know you can handle your liquor. So why don’t you take that SEAL team hot shot you got eating out of the palm of your hand and go meet the client. I’ll text you the address. It’s in Rochester.”

“Harvey, that’s an hour away and it’s a shitty neighborhood,” you shoot back him.

Harvey smirks. “Good thing you’ll have a bodyguard. Oh, and another thing. Get laid.” He hangs up the phone.

You let out a frustrated growl and slam the phone on the bar top.

Clay turns his big body towards you and smirks. “Need a bodyguard?”

You glare at him and grab your keys off the bar. You slide off the barstool and grab your black pinstripe jacket off the back. You take your time pulling it on. Clay’s eyes are on you. Once things are buttoned in place, your black jacket matching your black pants, you look up to meet Clay’s gaze and raise an eyebrow at him.

He smirks and lets his gaze wander over your body. He no longer hides his blatant attraction for you, and while he’s yet to act on it, he’s stared in many of your fantasy’s. How’d he get you off with those deft fingers. That scruffy beard adding pleasure as he ran kisses down your body.

His smirk widens, as if he can read your dirty thoughts. You keep your face indifferent though. You play it off with a roll of your eyes.

“I’ll drive,” he comments and holds out his hand.

You stare at those fingers before you think fuck it and hand over the keys to your Range Rover. You ignore him and turn toward the exist.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks.

Confused you glance at him over your shoulder and groan when he’s holding up the pink wedding invitation. He laughs and looks at it. “It’s pretty horrible.”

“She an old sorority sister,” you sigh with a shrug. “She’s…bubbly.”

“I can’t believe you were ever in a sorority,” Clay sniggers. “Not Miss tattooed, ‘Punk Rock Princess over here.’ Miss, ‘I’ll eliminate any threats to my person.’”

You roll again and turn toward the door. “Bitch please,” you shook back at him. “I’m a God Damn Queen.”

~*~

“That was not what I was expecting,” Clay murmured when he pulled in your brother’s driveway, several hours later.

You glance over at him. He’d been quiet the entire drive back from the client’s house. “My job isn’t always mergers and acquisitions,” you state, knowing where his head was at. “Sure, they pay the bills and I’m damn good at it. But this, is why I became a lawyer. People like Carl Terron. People who were taken advantage of and used and degraded, and in the end lost everything. This case could be the case that changes laws and sets precedents, so that something like what happed to Terron, doesn’t happen to anyone else again. This case could help save lives.”

Clay turned to you during your passionate speech and watched you. When you stopped speaking, he reached out with his large hand and cupped the side of your face.

You freeze. For as much the two of you had been flirting for the past year, he’d never made a move before. His blazing blue eyes bore into yours. His intensity stirs something deep inside you. You wait, watching him, like a deer in the headlights.

His fingers curl around the back of your head as his calloused thumb caresses your cheek.

“Clay,” you say, not really sure why you’re stopping this.

He drops his hand almost instantly and you immediately miss the warmth of his palm. Pain flashes across his eyes, or regret maybe? “I’m sorry,” he sighs, and looks out the front window. “I know you’re still dealing with last year. I shouldn’t have come on so strong.”

“It’s not that,” you sigh, playing with the several rings on your fingers.

“Then what is it?” Clay asks, looking over at you, hurt still evident in his eyes.

His pain strikes you and you reach out and take his hand in yours. “I’m being stupid.” You play with those deft fingers in yours, and a blush tints your cheeks as you think of all your fantasies that those fingers played a staring role in.

“That’s a lie. You’re one of the smartest people I know,” Clay says and squeezes your fingers between his. “What’s going on with you today?”

You look up, startled, and find yourself staring into his endless baby blues. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused.

“I mean, you’re not yourself. Yeah, at client’s house you put on a good show, but before that, at the bar… now? What’s going on with you?” His gaze is piercing, and you find yourself at a loss for words.

You open your mouth, trying to find the words, when a knock on the window behind Clay startles you. “Shit!” you shriek and jump a mile out of your seat.

Clay turns, and you see your brother looming through the driver’s side window, flashlight shining in on you. You reach across the center console and lean over Clay’s big body and press the button for the window. “What the fuck?” you yell at Scott.

“What the fuck you doin out here?” Metal’s voice is deep and commanding.

“Sitting in the fuckin car, what’s it look like we’re doing? Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck you out here for?” Your anger kicks up.

“It’s my house. I’m allowed to wonder why my baby sister is sitting in the dark in her car late at night. Where the fuck ya been? It’s past midnight,” Metal demands.

Pissed, you climb over the center console and get right into Clay’s lap. “Shit,” he groans and holds his arms out in surrender as you climb fully into his lap.

You ignore him as you settle onto his powerful thighs and get in your brother’s face through the window. “Why the fuck is it any of your business where the fuck I’ve been? Cut the shit Scott. I’m thirty fucking years old. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, and you can fuck off,” you shout at him.

Scott laughs and you roll your eyes. “Spenser though, really?”

“Fuck yeah, and fuck you,” you shout back him, a smirk on your face.

“Fuck you,” Scott grumbles and heads for the house.

When Scott was gone, you let out a chuckle and lean into Clay. You find yourself tucked against him, your head on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. “Hold me,” you murmur into his ear.

His arms come around you in a tight embrace and cradles you against his warm body. You’re curled against his chest and for the first time in who knew how many years, you finally felt safe. He is solid and broad and strong, and you relish the feeling of being in his arms.

You take a deep breath, breathing in his scent and close your eyes. He smells like home.

“Y/n, what was that about?” Clay asks softly.

You shake your head, not wanting to break the moment. He’s so warm, so safe.

Clay’s large hand slides up your back and his fingers card through your hair.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” you ask, before he can say anything.

Clay stills, his hand fisted in your hair. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Before… you had asked me what was going on with me today,” you murmur into his neck, finding it easier to speak without looking at him.

His hand not fisted into your chignon, rubs idle circles on your back. Calming… soothing. “Does this have to do with your ex?” he asks.

You nod slowly. “He was friends with all my friends in college. We met our freshman year. We had all the same friends. So that Wedding invitation just brought up a bunch of old memories, both good and bad,” you sigh.

Clay’s fingers massage your scalp as he holds you tight against him. “No, I don’t think you’re a bad person,” he finally answers. “I think you’re strong and fierce and aren’t afraid to stand up for yourself. You can take care of yourself and others and eliminate any problems that comes your way.”

You find yourself smiling against his neck. You pull back to look him in the eyes. There’s a seriousness in his blazing blue eyes that you hadn’t seen before. It makes you pause and take him in, really take him in. For all the flirting and banter the two of you had thrown back and forth for the past year, you hadn’t really stopped to consider how fucking real he was.

There was a raw honesty in those baby blues that grasped at your heartstrings and pulled. What you had mistaken as wholesome, was in actuality, genuine and real. You were surrounded by fake people on the daily, but Clay Spenser, was as real as they came.

You reach up and run your fingers through his scruffy beard. It was softer than you expect. His eyes are on your face, watching your every move. It’s clear by his cautious gaze, he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

So, you do. You lean forward, lacing your fingers through his beard and pull his mouth down to yours at the same time. His fingers tighten in your hair, and you gasp as he pulls your hair so deliciously. He takes advantage of your gasp and his tongue sweeps in. Your eyes drift close as the kiss turns more passionate.

You shift against him and realize your pencil skirt is ridiculous and not cooperating. You groan when he nibbles on your bottom lip. You try to pull away, but he’s got a firm grip in your hair, so you whimper against his lips.

His chuckle has your eyes opening. His eyes are watching you while he bites down just a bit harder. His hand slides up your thigh and under your pencil skirt with ease. You whimper again and let your eyes fall close. He releases your lip, so you use his beard to pull his mouth back to yours. “Uh uh, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.

You snap open your eyes again, and he’s smirking down at you. “Bu-”

“Shh,” he whispers. “Trust me?”

You gasp slightly and your eyes go wide. The earnestness in his gaze has you nodding though. It’s reluctant and slow, and Clay seems to get that. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he whispers, “Close your eyes.”

And you do. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and let him take care of you.

His hands work magic on your body. One slides down and manages to undo the clasp and zipper at the back of your pencil skirt while his other hand slides up your thigh to your core and he chuckles when he finds the lack of panties. “Naughty, naughty,” he murmurs.

You smirk and place an open-mouthed kiss to the column of his neck.

The sharp pinch to your inner thigh has you jumping and groaning. “None of that,” he orders, his voice deep.

You let out a pathetic whimper and give into him. His deft finger’s part your folds and he chuckles again, “So wet for me, baby.”

He takes his time sliding one long and thick finger all the way to the knuckle and you part your thighs as much as the now unzipped pencil skirt will allow. He slides in a second finger, and you groan. God his fingers are thick. God damn, do they feel good.

His thumb circles your clit almost teasingly and you thrust your hips up to try and get some friction from it. The pinch to your nipple comes as a surprise and you let out a low groan. “Be good.” Clay commands, softly.

You run your hand through his beard and slide it to the back of his head, curling your fingers in his curls.

His pace is brutal and you’re barely holding on when his mouth covers yours and he says, “Come for me,” against your lips.

You shatter into a million pieces in the front seat of your Range Rover. “Good girl,” Clay’s voice is rough and deep and has you opening your eyes. He watching you with a reverent smile on his lips.

You grin and use his beard to pull his mouth to yours again. His fingers in your cunt swirl again and let out a low groan. “Wanna come inside?” you ask.

He chuckles and swirls his fingers again. “I thought I already was.”

You close your eyes and let out a little whimper. “The house Clay.”

“Your brother gonna kill me?”

“Nah, I’ll deal with Scott.”

“Gonna eliminate him?”

“I’m gonna eliminate you if you don’t finish what you started.” His rich laugh puts a smile on your face, and you have a thought. “Hey, you wanna go to a wedding with me?”

“Do I have to wear a tie?”

Your eyes snap open to take in his goofy face and grin. “Only if you wanna use it to tie me up later,” you smirk at him.

He grins wickedly and curls his fingers inside you, sending you over the edge again.

#seal team #clay spenser #clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #full metal #full metal has a sister #Eliminated Part Two #don't kill your boyfriend #FanFicFriday #Rebels Fan Fic Friday #a week late

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years ago

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Mr. Sandman (Ms Venable x reader)

i guess its kinda bad and i actually wanted to delete it, but here we are haha...

this fanfic is inspired by “Mr Sandman” (syml)..

google translate mwuah

summary: i dont want to spoil.. uhm.. Y/N thinks, her life with Mina is perfect and then a letter changes everything? something like that–

pt. 2: https://littlejeaniehugsbumblebees.tumblr.com/post/643509412185751552/mr-sandman-pt-2-miss-venable-x-reader

Whoohoo

"I never felt love .." Ms. Mead said.

"Neither have I ..", Ms. Venable answered.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Make her the cutest that I've ever seen

Give her two lips like roses and clover

And tell her that her lonely nights are over

Mina loved you more than anything else in this world. You were her good girl, her princess and you would do anything to make her happy. You looked after the house, you cleaned, you went to the supermarket. You would always ask how she is doing and put her needs above your own.

And at night you lay close to her, your head rested on her chest and she whisperes sweet things in your ear, every evening until you would fall asleep.

And you were so in love with your Ms. Venable. She was so damn smart and proud and her scoliosis had never been a problem for you. You helped her where you could and you loved to see her happy. You were a very emotional person, but Mina was always there to hold you tight.

And while you were taking care of the house, she was the one managing your finances. You found the strict, powerful Ms. Venable, who she was at work, incredibly attractive, but the Mina, who she was at home, was your heaven on earth.

Even though it was almost 4 years ago, you still remembered like it was yesterday when she came into the bookstore, you worked at, to ask for a book. She looked so beautiful when she leaned against the cashier's counter to discuss about Stephen Hawking with you. Many people would describe her as cold-blooded, but you loved her rational way of dealing with things.

Your life seemed perfect and then a little letter should change everything.

----

"I forgot to tell you, that you got a letter .." you said and leaned in the doorway to watch your girlfriend,who was at her desk working on a document.

"Give it to me .." she muttered absently, still staring at the paper. She held out her hand in your direction and you jumped into the room to put the letter in her hand.

"I've already opened it .." you said nervously.

She raised her eyes in your direction and raised an eyebrow.

"Since when are you reading my letters, Y / N?"

"I'm sorry..I thought it looked kind of important..you know, he's from your college .."

Her gaze froze at your words and you became even more nervous.

"The graduates from your year will meet next saturday and you have also been invited .." you continued slowly.

"I was wondering if we might- .."

"No." she said firmly, still staring at you.

"But Mina .." you moaned.

"I know you hate people, but I think you'd have fun .. something like that is cool .."

"I said no, Y / N ..." she repeated, with a hint of anger in her voice, before taking the letter and tearing it up.

"You are stupid ..".

You stomped out of her study angrily.

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

"You know, my college days weren't that great either .." you said, poking around at your food.

"But I would still go to this meeting .."

Mina sighed.

"You have no idea .. my college days were like hell to me ..".

Her mind wandered back in time to the lost girl she was in college. Everything was actually perfect, Mina was smart and loved to challenge her professors. But then she fell in love with the Meangirl and everything was upside down. She had never been in love and this girl was just as gay as her homophobic mother. And she was the darling of all professors and students. Mina had never even been in her field of vision, no matter how loud she shouted. And, of course, the Meangirl was dating Jonathan Cray, the blond handsome guy everyone adored. But as beautiful as he was, Mina had always seen how he had broken her heart. And every time she had wanted to kill him. She would have looked after her so well, not treated her the way he did.

"You don't have to tell me about it, if you don't want to .." you said when you realized how thoughtful she was and put a hand on hers.

"Thank you, princess .." she said softly and smiled sadly at you.

When you lay in bed in the evening, your head was on her chest, as always, while you read from the book what you just had in common. One of your favorite habits in your relationship.

Unfortunately, Mina couldn't concentrate on that.

The floral scent of your hair made her think of her again.

You smelled like her.

Absent-mindedly, she ran her hand over your bare back.

Your skin was as soft as hers.

"Mina?" You asked, lifting your eyes to look at her when you noticed that she wasn't focused.

Your eyes had the same shine as hers, Mina realized as she stared into your eyes.

"I love you so much, princess .." she muttered, pressing her lips against yours.

And you tasted like her too, at least as Mina had imagined.

You were perfect

Sandman, I'm so alone

Don't have nobody to call my own

Please turn on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

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

Mina herself had made sure that you didn't have to work next Saturday, she didn't want you to leave the house that day.

You'd been confused, but her explanation was too sweet and you took the day off.

"You know, I have the feeling we haven't had much time for each other in the last few weeks and I would love to spend Saturday with you, princess ..", she said and you were happy.

Now she was only working for a few hours this morning and then you'd have her back.

You got up from the bed and opened the door to Mina's closet, which was separate from yours.

A few years ago Mina had already given you a hoodie of her own and as cute as it was, you unfortunately had to discover that time had borrowed it quite a bit and the purple was almost washed out. You reached out your hand to her turtleneck and pulled it over your head. Minas lavender perfume got into your nose and gave you a feeling of security

Just as you were about to close the closet, you noticed a box, that was on the floor of the closet, labeled with your name. You knew you shouldn't be getting hold of her things, but your name was on it, so it was your business somewhere.

You bent down to pick up the box, a shoebox. Before you opened it, you sat down on the bed edge. You carefully removed the lid and stared into the box, confused.

There were drawings in it.

Very direct drawings,..drawings of you.

You took the leaves, which had become wavy over time, and looked at them. Mina had drawn that, you were sure of that. Nobody would pay more attention to the details than Mina. These drawings were good, you couldn't imagine why Mina should hide them in her closet. Which is why you decided to hang them up. You jumped happily into her workspace and your good mood fell when you looked at Mina's desk. She had forgotten her bag. She never actually forgot anything. Confused, you grabbed the bag, determined to bring it to your girlfriend.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Make her the cutest that I've ever seen

Give her the word that I'm not a rover

And tell her that her lonely nights are over

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

As you walked through the large building of kineros robotics, you couldn't help but wonder again about this strange work.

You walked past Jeff and Mutt's office and watched in disgust as the two of them were taking drugs as usual.

"Look! The prodigal son has found home .." Mutt exclaimed when he saw you and grinned.

The prodigal son?

Slowly you stepped into these idiots' office.

"Did Venny send you to update your system?" Laughed Jeff.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to answer, someone interrupted you.

"What are you doing here Y / N ?!", Minas voice barked behind you and made you flinch.

You turned around and stared into her wrinkled face.

"You forgot your bag .." you said quietly and held up her bag.

She inhaled sharply.

"Give it to me and go home, you shouldn't be here ..".

Without a word, you handed her the bag before you ran past her outside.

That was embarrassing and you couldn't explain why Mina was so angry. You just wanted to help her.

Annoyed, you got into your car and were about to start when something caught your eye. A young couple crossing the parking lot. He was holding a child, but your attention was on her.

Maybe you got crazy, but this woman looked like you.

Or did you look like that woman?

You could only stare and watch the couple go into the building. When the two of them disappeared behind the door, you blinked in confusion. That couldn't be possible.

Probably she just looked like you and besides, she was about 30 meters away from you.

You shook your head at yourself before you started the car to drive home.

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

Mina sat in her office and thought hard, should she be alarmed about what Jeff and Mutt had said to you?

A knock on her door made her jump and she let out a little scream as she saw who it was.

There she was, the love of her life, her hand still tied to Jonathan Crays. She balanced a toddler on her arm.

"Y / N ..", Mina uttered surprised when Y / N and Jonathan entered the room.

"Didn't you expect us?", asked Y / N and grinned.

God that smile.

"Not really .." Mina muttered as she turned red.

"We saw that you didn't register for tonight and now we've come to pick you up.."

Mina stared at couple. Jonathan looked totally bored and didn't look at all like he was enjoying being here.

"Come on .." Y / N pleaded.

"This is going to be fun ... do it for me .."

Do it for me.

These words ached in Mina's heart. She would have done so much for Y / N.

"I can't .." she began.

"I promised my girlfriend to spend the night with her .."

"Your girlfriend?" Y / N repeated with big eyes.

"Of course she can come along if she wants .."

"I really can't Y / N .."

Mina averted her gaze from the woman in front of her, who was now staring at her in disappointment

"We should go now ..", Jonathan suddenly muttered to Y / N.

"It was nice to see you, Mina .." she said quietly.

Mina

Only Y / N was allowed to call her that.

Mina smiled in pain.

"Have fun tonight .."

Jonathan nodded briefly and pulled Y / N out of the room.

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

Mina couldn't stop tears from running down her face as she drove home. This meeting today had shown her, what reality actually looked like.

She hated Jonathan so much, when he put his arm around Y / N when they left the building, it hurt so much to see and now she needed you. You were like her drug, she was addicted to the feeling of holding you in her arms.

"Y / N ??" she called for you when she got home.

"I'm in the living room ..", came your voice and Mina was glad that you no longer sounded angry. She took off her jacket and came walking into the living room, always leaning on her cane, of course.

She smiled gently at you when she saw you, but her smile fell as soon as she saw what you were doing.

"Where did you get this from?" She asked sharply, staring at the drawings.

"They were in your closet and I thought they were beautiful, so I thought I would hang them .." you replied, still seeming to be convinced that it was a good idea.

"I think they look so ... aggressive."

"Aggressive ..", Mina repeated slowly, still staring at you angrily.

She remembered the night she had made these sketches. Aggressive was a good word to describe how she felt back then. She had sat at the desk in the candlelight at night. She couldn't take it any longer. Y / N in Jonathan's arms..

With gritted teeth she had scratched the paper with a pencil. Tears dripped from her eyes onto the drawing in front of her, making the pencil blur. No matter how much it would cost, she was determined to take these sketches to her office the next morning to hand over to these two idiots Jeff & Mutt. You should be perfect.

Oh, Sandman, I'm so alone

Don't have nobody to call my own

So please turn on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

"Hang it up .." Mina hissed at you.

"But Mina-".

"You gotta fucking hang it up .."

You rolled your eyes

"Hang it up yourself if it bothers you .. I try to do everything right the whole day and you're just mad at me .." you said and ran out of the room.

She looked after you and then began to unhook the drawings and toss them into the burning fireplace at the end. She hadn't imagined Saturday like that.

She ran through your house looking for you and finally found you lying on the bed in the bedroom.

"Princess?" She whispered softly as she entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Your back was turned to her

and you didn't move an inch

"Please talk to me .." she continued and reached out her hand to run through your hair.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You let out.

"You've been totally weird since this letter arrived here ..."

You frowned at her.

Mina swallowed.

"I'm really sorry that I was so unfair .. I've only think back to my college days so often over the past few days .."

She looked at you sadly.

"Then talk to me .." you answered and sat up.

"I don't want to talk about it .." she said, grabbing your hands.

"The only thing that matters, is that you know I love you .."

You nodded slowly and were about to say something when she grabbed your face and angrily pressed her lips against yours.

"Mina what-"

"You are mine .." she growled against your mouth and pulled you into her lap.

"Do you understand me? You belong to me .."

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

The rest of the weekend was perfect, you gave her everything she needed. Mina had always been a bit possessive and you liked that, but the last two days had been different, she was scared. While she held you in her arms, all she could see was Jonathan putting his arm around Y / N, he didn't deserve her.

Monday morning everything seemed to be back to normal, you went to work just like her and in the evening she drove home and was looking forward to finally seeing you.

But as soon as she unlocked the door, she noticed that something was wrong. Normally you would greet her with a beam of joy, but you didn't.

When she called your name several times and you didn't answer, she panicked to search your house. Finally she heard sobs coming from the bathroom. She ran there immediately, if her stick allowed it.

"What's going on, princess?" She asked worried when she saw you standing by the sink.

"Something is wrong with me .." you whimpered and turned to her.

"What are you talking about?", She frowned and got scared when she saw that your right hand was wrapped in a bandage.

"Please don't be angry .." you began, trembling.

"I wanted to cook and cut myself .."

Mina's eyes widened.

Damn.

She grabbed your hand and unwrapped the bandage.

"I don't know what that is .." you said and more tears ran down your face as Mina looked at the cut on your palm. Instead of blood, cables came out of the interface.

She wrapped the bandage around your hand again.

"Jeff and Mutt will be able to fix this .." she muttered.

"To fix ??" you stared at her in fear.

"We have to go to the hospital, there are fucking cables in my hand .. I need help .."

"You are perfect ..", she growled and pulled you into your living room by your healthy hand.

"What the hell is going on here Mina ??" you asked and yanked yourself out of her grasp.

She slipped past you and sat on the armchair by the window.

"Have you never wondered why you are always healthy? Or why you have no friends or we never visit your family?" She asked challengingly.

You paused.

"What are you talking about? I hate my parents, they kicked me out when I came out to them, but you know that .. And don't say I have no friends .. I don't want friends, that's it. The only person I need is you .. "

She let out an amused snort and rubbed her temples.

"Because I programmed you that way .." she said finally.

"Programmed .." you repeated and you felt sick as you slowly realized what she was getting at.

"Y / N you are my creation .. look at yourself, you are flawless .. I have invested so much time in making yourself as perfect as you are now .."

You stared at her. Is that supposed to be a joke?

"I'm one of your robots?" You asked quietly and stumbled backwards.

That's what Mutt meant by "the prodigal son". But that made no sense, your memories, your family ... They all seemed so real ?!

You let yourself fall into the chair behind you.

"You are not just any robot .. you are my robot .." Mina said and came over to you to kneel in front of you.

Those were the strangest words she'd ever said to you.

You felt like you were about to throw up.

"You're perfect, you look like her ...", Mina said and reached out her hand to smooth your cheek with her thumb.

"Like her?" You gasp. Tears welled up in your eyes. Immediately you thought back to yesterday's woman ... So you weren't unique. A cheap copy from a stranger.

"Look at me and tell me that you are not happy with me ..", Mina looked at you sadly.

All you could do was stare at her. You had been together for 4 years and she had lied all the time. Who knows, maybe it wasn't even 4 years and just a few months.

"I didn't tell you, because I love you.", Mina said, as if she could read your mind.

"Because you love me? I thought honesty was the most important thing in a relationship .." you took her hand from your cheek and stood up.b

"Y / N, I created you .. Without me you wouldn't even exist ..", Mina said and leaned on her stick to get up as well.

"You're crazy .." you muttered and ran into the hallway. Mina hobbled after you.

"What is that supposed to be, Y / N?" She asked when she saw you put your jacket on.

"I'm leaving .. you scare me ..".

You grabbed your car key before heading to the door. Your hand wrapped around the cold doorknob, but something prevented you from opening.

You just couldn't. She had given you everything you ever wanted and even though you just found out that most of it was a lie, you just couldn't leave. Where should you go?Your whole life revolved around this woman and you loved it, she made you feel special.

Tears dripped quitetly on your hand, which was still tightly gripping the iron doorknob.

"You can't .." you heard Mina say softly behind you.

"You can't leave me because I programmed you that way .."

Programmed ..

You let out a sob at her words.

You slowly turned to her, she was standing a meter away from you and smiled sadly at you.

"Come here, princess .." she said and opened her arms.

You didn't hesitate for a moment and jumped into her arms to hold on to her while you cried.

"Shh everything will be fine .." she whispered in your ear.

"You are mine and that's the only thing that matters .."

Oh, Sandman bring us a dream

Make her the cutest that I've ever seen

Give her two lips like roses and clover

And tell her that her lonely nights are over

Oh, Sandman, I'm so alone

Don't have nobody to call my own

So please turn on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #american horror story #mr sandman

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keltonwrites · 3 years ago

Text

I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed. “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

Subscribe to the newsletter here. Follow on Instagram here.

#newsletters #amwriting #relocation #home renovation #cabin life #cabin living #colorado #log cabin

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cali-holland · 4 years ago

Text

Dandelion- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Prompt: You’re the only girl that makes Harrison nervous, the only girl that’s unknowingly owned his heart for years- and the only girl he’s ever stood up on a date. Now, four years later, is he too late to try for a second chance?

Featured Songs: Dandelion by Kacey Musgraves and It Had to Be You from When Harry Met Sally

Based On: This scene from Psych

Word Count: 12k (longest fic right hereeee)

Warnings: swearing, secondhand embarrassment to the MAX, Harrison being a simp

Masterlist Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Why are we even shopping today? Your party’s not for another week.” Harrison let out a groan as he walked into the grocery store with Tom and Harry, the former had been very insistent on getting food for his birthday party a week in advance.

“I procrastinate on everything else, let me do something reasonably on time for once.” Tom stated, pushing the cart and heading straight for the alcohol aisle. “What should we get?”

“It’s your party.” The blond replied with a shrug. He grabbed a large case of beer, claiming, “As long as there’s beer, I’m fine.” “Didn’t you say Shelby likes Whiteclaws?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yeah, she does!” Tom perked up, grabbing a large box full of the hard seltzers.

“You’re catering to Shelby’s needs now? Tom, it’s your party.” Harrison reminded him again. Shelby being the girl who was Tom’s unofficial girlfriend.

“I want to impress her.”

“Haz, calm down. Maybe she’ll bring some of her hot friends for us.” Harry joked, nudging his friend, who looked unimpressed.

“I’m just saying, you should just be official with her already. You’re practically dating her.” Harrison insisted.

“You’re one to talk.” Tom laughed, before mimicking his friend, “‘Just ask her out already. It’s not that hard.’ Wanna remind us how you haven’t asked a girl out in four years?”

“Shove off. I’ll get the chasers.” He walked away without another word, trying to ignore the snickering from the two Holland boys behind them.

Harrison knew it was hypocritical of him to encourage Tom to officially date Shelby when he couldn’t even ask a girl out. It wasn’t like he had trouble talking to girls; no, Harrison was good-looking and he knew it, so he naturally had no problem turning on his charm whenever a pretty girl was around. It was just that when the time came to actually ask a girl out, he couldn’t. He’d freeze and have horrendous flashbacks to his last date four years ago, flashbacks that crept into his mind now as he searched for some good chasers.

“Harrison! You’re going to be late!” His mom called to him from downstairs.

“No, I’m not!” He halted his nervous pacing as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing anything too special, just a nice blue button-up that brought out his eyes and his best pair of jeans. He kicked himself for letting Tom borrow his nicest pair of casual shoes because the ones he currently wore were just not fitting right. They went well enough with his look, but they squeezed his toes uncomfortably and there were little dirt stains on the side that he just hoped no one could see, especially you. He ran his fingers through his hair, and then again, trying to fix it and make sure it didn’t look too gelled up or too casual. He thought to himself ‘This is a casual thing, calm down’, but his brain was so scattered, he could barely focus on that.

“Mum says you need to leave.” His sister said, opening his door and making him jump.

“How do I look?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Wonderful. Now go, you’ve got a date!” She pushed him out of the room. Harrison grabbed his keys and his wallet from the table near his front door, trying to rush out of the house before his mum came into the room, but she was too fast.

“Let me see.” She smiled teasingly at him, and he sighed before turning around so that she could approve of his outfit. Pinching his cheeks, she gushed, “You look so handsome.”

“Thanks. I need to go.” He kissed his mother goodbye quickly.

As Harrison left his house, he heard his mum’s passing comment to his sister, “I’ve never seen him so nervous for a date. I hope she’s the one.”

Since you were getting off work and had your car there already, you’d told Harrison that you could meet him at the fairgrounds, the spot he had chosen for your date. The whole drive over there, he was thinking of different ways to greet you- should he do the cute romantic thing and cover your eyes for a moment, or was that too creepy? His mind rushed over to the wonder about how the night would go- would you two share a cotton candy, would you hold his hand as you two go on a thrill ride, would you need a jacket because it’s cold? Harrison’s heart surged with nervousness; he didn’t even think of bringing a jacket for you and he didn’t even have one for himself. Stopped at a red light, he blindly stretched a hand to the back of the car, in search of one of his spare jackets back there. Feeling a soft cotton material, he quickly pulled on the jacket and brought it up to his lap. He didn’t know how long it’d been his car, but judging by its smell it had definitely been in there a while. So maybe he wouldn’t give you his jacket in hopes that you take it home at the end of the night as an excuse to see him again.

The light turned green and he started to drive again. The thought of the end of the night hadn’t even crossed his mind. Did you expect him to kiss you or was it supposed to be one of those intimate hugs to end the date? His mum was right, he’d never been so nervous for a date, but he couldn’t help it. This was you.

He met you at school years ago. You two didn’t have many classes together, which made Harrison a bit sad because he wanted any opportunity to see you (but he was kind of grateful too because he definitely didn’t do well in the classes that you shared with him). He was completely enraptured by you; it took him months to finally talk to you in class. Then it took a couple more months before he managed to actually say anything more than a simple ‘hi’ to you. Poor Tom had to hear him go on for almost a year about how pretty you were or about something you said during class. Eventually, just in time for graduation when you’d all split ways, he worked up the courage to just get your number. After infrequently texting you for a while (he didn’t want to come off as a creep and text you too often), he finally asked you out a couple days ago. He was still in disbelief that you said yes. You were the girl he’d been fawning over for the past several years, and you had said yes to just going on a date with him. You had almost every guy at the school falling at your feet, you could have accompanied anyone to the carnival and yet you chose him. You made him feel like a giddy school boy, not a nearly 20-year old man.

He had hoped his nerves would’ve calmed down by the time he got to the fairgrounds, but they didn’t; if anything, his heart was beating inhumanly fast and his hands were the clammiest they’d ever been. He managed to get a parking spot near the front gate, right near where the two of you were supposed to meet. He was two minutes early; he had two minutes to calm down and go out there.

“Just be cool.” He mumbled to himself. He looked at himself in his rearview mirror and smiled, “‘Hi, Y/N’. No, that sounds creepy. ‘Hey’- God, no.” He groaned, still unable to settle on the best way to greet you. Seeing something move near the gate, he quickly looked over to see you walking to the gate.

You stood nervously in the shade, trying to hide from the evening sun. You wore a light blue babydoll dress with a dandelion print that made Harrison’s heart soar- you two had inadvertently matched color schemes. On your shoulders rested a dark blue denim jacket, which told Harrison all his worrying about the jacket dilemma was for nothing. He already knew your jacket definitely smelt better than his, and that was reassuring to him. You just looked so beautiful standing there; if you hadn’t told him you were coming from work, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. He watched as you nervously fiddled with the black bag hanging from your shoulder. You got out your phone, and Harrison watched your fingers dance across the screen before his own phone vibrated.

‘Hey, I’m here x’ You had texted him, and his heart seemed to start beating even faster- he didn’t know how he wasn’t having a heart attack. You held your phone with your left hand and put your right hand in your jacket pocket, fidgeting with it anxious. It was a nervous tick of yours that Harrison had picked up on years ago; whenever you were nervous, you’d play with your right pocket and that’s why your right jacket pockets were always disproportionately more damaged than your left.

Any confidence that he had before was gone. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to your text, and he felt frozen in his car. After a few more minutes had gone by, you texted him again and began to walk in small circles. Instead of reading your text, he pulled up Tom’s contact. He hated it, but he needed his best friend, he needed to be talked into going out there. Tom was the only person who saw firsthand how much Harrison admired you over the years, seeing as he was the one to continuously push his friend to talk to you.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” Tom asked as soon as he picked up the phone. When Harrison didn’t immediately respond, he got concerned, “Mate, tell me Y/N didn’t stand you up.”

“No, no. I just- Tom, I can’t.” Harrison said, his voice breaking.

“What do you mean you can’t? The girl of your dreams agreed to go on a date with you, give her the best date ever.”

“No, I can’t. She’s here, but I- I can’t even get out of my car.”

“Do you not like her anymore?” He asked, unsure of his friend’s predicament. Harrison had been so nervously excited about your date for days, and Tom had to hear all about how much his best friend liked you for years. This was a perfect situation for Harrison, was it not?

“I do. It’s just too real. There’s no way she’d actually date me. She’s too good for me.”

“Harrison! Listen to yourself! You’re incredible, mate, and Y/N knows that. That’s why she agreed to go out with you. Don’t leave her there. Go get her.” Tom insisted.

“O-okay, I will.” He replied before saying goodbye and hanging up his phone. He was about to leave his car when he got a call from you. He wanted to pick it up, he wanted to hear your voice, but he just felt like he was disappointing you. It had been half an hour already. Once the phone call went through and you left a voicemail, he looked up to see you sitting against the trunk of a tree, defeated, and turned away from his car that you still had yet to spot. He felt defeated himself, he was looking forward to this so much and now he was just being cowardly. He hated this feeling. A sudden surge of confidence overcame him and he hopped out of his car, thinking it’s now or never.

You hadn’t seen him yet, and he was mere steps from you. He stopped when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t think he’s coming.” You sighed. There was a pause as you listened to the other end of the call, still unaware of his presence. “I’m just going to go. It’s been almost a hour, and I haven’t even heard from him. It just feels like a waste of time, he really let me down.”

Harrison felt himself grow heavy at your words. As much as he wanted to take the final few steps to you and to tell you he was there, his body betrayed him and he stood there, motionless and speechless.

“I even wore that blue dress I just bought. I thought he’d like it because it matches his eyes.” You laughed lightly and he felt his heart drop at your words. You were trying to impress him. “I feel so stupid. It’s probably stained now.” You stood up and dusted off your dress. You sniffled a bit and he felt his heart break- he’d made you cry and it was the worst feeling in the world for him. As you took one last look around for him, Harrison ducked behind the large tree trunk to stay out of view. With a final sigh, you left. Harrison threw his head back against the tree. He was so angry with himself, you were all he wanted for years and he finally had him, but now you were gone, probably for good. You were there, and he was there; why couldn’t he just actually be there for you?

“Chasers, chasers, chasers,” He mumbled to himself, walking through the store trying to find where they had hidden the drink section (why it wasn’t right beside the alcohol section, he didn’t know). He paused his search, hearing an all too familiar singing voice come over the store’s radio.

As if the memory of him leaving you like that wasn’t haunting enough for him, you went on to become a successful artist and sometimes he felt like there was no escaping your popular songs. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to them though. Tom said that they were good- after all, he still kind of kept up in contact with you, but Harrison knew it’d only make him feel even more guilty about his actions all those years ago. He hadn’t reached out to you at all since before that fateful and horrendous night. You were special and he always knew that, he just didn’t appreciate you enough when you were there.

Trying his best to ignore the melodic sound of your voice, he continued his journey to finding chasers. He finally found the aisle labeled “beverages” and figured they had to be there. When he turned the corner, his eyes quickly darted to the drink selection in front of him. It was only then that he realized this was a stupid idea; why did Tom put him in charge of chasers? It was still Tom’s party. Just as Harrison was about to say “fuck it” and grab a box of Coke, he realized there was one other person in the aisle to his left. The stranger hadn’t noticed him though and she pushed a loose hair back under her hood before pulling the hood down some more, so her face was a bit more obstructed. Her right hand was shoved into her jacket pocket, fiddling with the cotton material.

Harrison immediately felt a wave of nausea overcome him as his brain processed the stranger as you. It had been four years since he’d stood you up and watched you walk away at the fairgrounds, four whole years since he let his dream girl just walk away, four years since he broke his own heart. He realized he’d been staring too long when you started to look over at him, and before he knew it, he was running out of the aisle and crashing into Harry around the corner.

“Did you get chasers?” Harry asked, confused by his friend’s terrified appearance.

“I- uh, no. I can’t- can’t go down there.” Harrison coughed, scratching his neck nervously.

“Why not?” He looked between Tom and Harrison. Tom’s eyes were just about as wide as Harrison’s; he knew exactly who could be down the aisle to have that sort of effect on his best friend.

“Y/N’s down there?” The older Holland clarified, and the blond nodded, biting his lip.

“Wait, the Y/N?” Harry questioned. He’d heard about the girl that Harrison stood up four years ago, but he’d never actually met her; he’d seen pictures of you, but you were kind of famous now so who hadn’t? Your name had been like a taboo in the Osterfield and Holland households for years now- no one dared to bring you up in front of Harrison, no one except for Tom. Tom was the only person who really knew what happened when it happened. He ended up telling Harry and Sam a few months afterwards, seeing as they were both close with Harrison, but Harrison never told his family. He had told his family that the date went poorly and it was never mentioned again.

“I can’t- I’m- nope.” Harrison was a stuttering mess.

“Look,” Tom started, but his words were cut short as you came around the corner. Harrison quickly dove behind one of the tall bread stands, hoping you hadn’t seen him, but you had and they all knew his hiding spot wasn’t a good one. He mentally cursed at his feet that stood planted in the ground; they wouldn’t let him run away out of this hell of a grocery store.

“Oh, hi, Tom.” You smiled, politely. You had no problem with Tom; after all, he wasn’t the one that stood you up.

“Hey, Y/N.” He leaned over a little, trying to block Harrison from your view. “How have you been?”

“Never better. And you?” You asked, your smile strained as your eyes flickered over to Harrison’s “hidden” figure for a moment. His blue eyes that once captivated you were trained to the ground.

“Been good.” Tom replied, not really sure how long he could keep up the small talk in front of his painstakingly awkward friend.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the abnormally pale Harrison or try to console his poor friend. He’d never seen Harrison be so nervous before; sure, he’d seen the blond be nervous before about something, but never this nervous because of a girl. Now he knew what Tom was talking about when he said Harrison was always a mess when it came to you. To Harry, it almost justified Harrison being so nervous that he stood you up, almost (both Hollands still think it was stupid of Harrison to not just get out of the car and go to you).

“Are you having a party or something?” You asked, looking down at the contents of Tom’s cart that included excessive amounts of alcohol and snacks, both savory and sweet.

“Yeah,” He paused for a moment, glancing over at Harrison before a wide smile broke out on his face, “You should come.”

He held back his grimace as Harrison obviously kicked him, silently questioning what the actual fuck he was thinking. You looked at Tom confused because in all your years of knowing him, you two had been more acquaintances than friends, and also it was a party with Harrison there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to even go, but you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’ll text you the details.” Tom smiled and you nodded.

“Well I should be going, but it was nice seeing you.” You stepped around him, needing to get to an aisle behind him. Harrison did the best thing he could to hide from you, holding up a loaf of bread and keeping his eyes closed, praying the ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ concept would pay off. “Bye, Harrison.”

With that, you walked away from the three boys and Harrison let out a small sigh, putting the bread back on the shelf. Tom laughed as his friend punched him in the arm.

“What the hell was that for?” Harrison questioned, all nervousness going away, but he still looked around the store in paranoia in case you came back.

“It’s perfect, mate. Y/N will come to the party, you can apologize and talk to her, and hopefully she takes you back.” Tom smiled hopefully. He thought his plan was ingenious, but the stern look on his friend’s face said otherwise.

“That’s a shit plan.” He crossed his arms, “Look at me! I still can’t even look at her. She just- ugh, I’m not going.”

“You’d miss my birthday party because of Y/N?”

“Well,” Harrison sighed, knowing Tom would hate him if he actually didn’t go. Plus, it’s at his house so he would have to have a pretty big excuse not to show up. “Fine, but I’m not talking to her.”

“I didn’t believe Tom about Y/N until now. You’re so whipped.” Harry laughed, earning a smack from the frustrated Harrison.

“It’s been four years, and she still has a hold over you. I wonder if she knows.” Tom teased him.

“Shut up.” Harrison grumbled, “Let’s just get the chasers and leave.”

Harrison had one week, a whole seven days to prepare his apology speech. He paced around his room daily, trying to come up with the right words to say, even though you’d leave him too speechless and stunned anyway. He felt like he was attempting at writing a Shakespearean monologue, he felt desperate. But how do you apologize to someone who wasn’t even yours to begin with? How does he tell you that he’s sorry he left you? And that it was all because you made him too nervous to actually do anything? And it ended up breaking his heart and stalling his love life up until this point because no one can compare to you, the girl he’s basically loved since he was 14? He never really admitted it before then, but he did love you and that’s why it hurt even more to reflect on that regretful night.

He often wondered how different his life would be if he had just gotten out of the car. Or even if he had remembered a clean jacket. He would’ve greeted you with a bright smile at the gate, and you’d be overjoyed to see him; you two would have shared food all night long; he would have loved to see the crinkles by your eyes as you smiled and laughed from the thrill of the rides; he would have wanted to kiss you on the top of the ferris wheel because you would already be holding his hand since you were afraid of heights; but he would’ve saved your first kiss for the end of the night, for when he was walking you to your car, his hand in yours, his jacket around your shoulders- he would’ve kissed you under the moonlight. But then, maybe you wouldn’t have had your big break, maybe you wouldn’t have written your first big hit because he was in your life, because he was a distraction from your career- and then neither of you would have really known if you could make it in the music business. Yet again, maybe you two would have moved in together by now, living happily in a small apartment, or even a small house where you could have a dog to run around the yard.

For four years, he’s been dreaming of all the different events that could have occurred if he had just gotten out of the car, if he had just stopped you before you walked away. For four years, you’d owned his heart, and he didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw you tonight at the party.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison mumbled to himself, pulling on a nice button-up. He looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair a little. He just kept repeating the two words he so desperately wanted to tell you tonight. Maybe if he said it enough times now before the party, it’d be the only words he could squeak out when you were there. The anxious part of him was hoping you wouldn’t show, that you’d be sick or something and just couldn’t go; but then the realistic part of him remembered that you literally texted Tom this morning, asking why he didn’t tell you it was a birthday party because now you had to get him a last minute gift- apparently you’d seen the news on Twitter.

“Harrison, dear God, please shut the fuck up.” Tom said as he and Harrison were setting up the makeshift bar. The blond hadn’t even realized he was still mindlessly repeating those words.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Sorry. I get it.” He cut him off. “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to come in, and you’ll apologize.”

“That requires me to speak to her.” Harrison stated, his nerves already hitting him as his palms began to grow clammy.

“I had to listen to you go on about this girl for almost a year before you managed to actually say anything but ‘hi’ to her. You are going to talk to her tonight. That’s what the alcohol’s for.” He laughed lightheartedly, before threateningly adding, “And you’re not going to walk away from her!”

“At this point, I’ll be surprised if my feet actually work around her.” He sighed, putting his hands on the counter and leaning into them. He was beyond stressed about the party, which was just an hour away, “I don’t know what it is about her, but I just- I freeze. She’s beautiful and sweet and funny, and she’s got such an incredible singing voice. She’s perfect and breathtaking, and I can’t handle it. She’s absolutely the girl of my dreams but god, these butterflies are the worst thing in the world. Every time she’s near me, I just can’t speak and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest and my hands get all sweaty and- and I just love her, but I fucked it all up.”

“Calm down, Haz.” Tom spoke softly. “You never know, she might give you another shot. On the bright side, there’s no way you can fuck it up more as long as you don’t freeze.”

“What if-” Harrison paused, standing up straight, “What if I just kept my eyes closed all night, so if I run into her, I won’t freeze because I won’t be able to see her?”

“She’s not fucking Medusa.” His friend smacked him on the back of the head. “Pull yourself together!”

Once the bar was set up, Harrison went back to his room to try to memorize his speech, the perfect words that will hopefully win you over. He read over the small piece of paper, crinkling it under his fingers lightly. He heard Tom start the music and suddenly people began to arrive. He had to go out there now or else he’d never go.

“I can do this.” He told himself as he looked in the mirror, and he suddenly felt like a 19 year old all over again, anxiously hyping himself up for the biggest date of his life. This time it was different. This time he was going to talk to you (well, at least say ‘hi’ before running away).

“You good?” Harry asked as he handed Harrison a drink when the blond finally made it to the kitchen while the party was picking up pace.

“Yeah,” He replied, but it did nothing to convince either of them that he was, in fact, good. Harrison quickly drank the beer, knowing he’d need a bit more if he was going to actually confront you tonight.

“Don’t go too hard. You’ve got to be somewhat coherent when you talk to Y/N.” His friend warned, but Harrison shook him off, downing another. With two drinks suddenly in his system, he stopped to nurse the third one properly. Harry sighed, but he even had to admit that it was a decently good sign that Harrison wasn’t completely planning on being wasted when seeing you (he’d save the shots for after your rejection). Before leaving Harrison alone, Harry stated, “Don’t finish that drink until you talk to her.”

Harrison did as he was told, slowly savoring the one drink while eating some snacks and socializing with old friends. Tom made the rounds throughout the party, and it didn’t take long for Shelby to be latched on his arm. After half an hour of waiting for you, Harrison was about to give up hope and just chug the rest of his drink to get another because he could feel the alcohol slowly fade away. He couldn’t grab another though, because while Harry wasn’t in the kitchen with him anymore, the curly haired Holland still kept a watchful eye on him.

“Haz, look who just showed up.” Tom said, coming over to his friend and nudging him towards the front door, where you just stepped in. Just like that, the nervousness was overflowing in Harrison.

“Go talk to her.” Harry encouraged him, appearing by his side with Sam.

“I don’t-”

“Go!” All three Hollands shouted while Tom physically shoved his friend in your direction. Harrison’s feet took him to you, but they refused to move once your eyes landed on him.

“H-hey, Y/N.” He said, swallowing the anxious lump in his throat.

“Hi, Harrison.” You replied stiffly. In all honesty, you weren’t at all expecting him to actually come over to you and talk to you, not after the grocery store incident.

“Do you- do you want a beer? Or a Whiteclaw? We might have shots too.” Harrison offered. His cheeks heated up with a blush as he stuttered. If he thought he wasn’t good enough for you back then, he definitely felt inadequate now. The past four years had been good to you; you were even more beautiful in his eyes. And it definitely didn’t help that he knew you were a famous singer with probably numerous guys kissing at your feet.

“Could I have a Whiteclaw please?”

“Uhuh, yeah,” He nodded, but his feet wouldn’t move. They’d fallen under your captivating spell. God, maybe Tom was wrong, maybe you were Medusa.

“Everything alright?” You asked, pausing as you were going to follow him to the kitchen, yet he made no noticeable effort to move.

“Yeah, yeah.” His feet finally let him move. So far, so good; he had said all of ten words to you and he hadn’t completely frozen yet- and he hadn’t even walked away from you. As you followed Harrison into the kitchen, the other three Holland boys huddled in the crowd to sneakily watch.

“Wait, wait, that’s Harrison’s Y/N?” Sam asked quietly, just as surprised as Harry had been last week. Harrison was an actual mess as he tried to open your Whiteclaw for you, just to have it bubble over into his hands. The three other boys felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment hit them.

“This is painful to watch, but I can’t look away.” Harry laughed, taking a drink of his beer.

“You think this is painful? I had to sit through his schoolboy crush on her for years, I had to hear his every thought about her. And that includes his dilemma of asking her to formal.” Tom shook his head.

“Did he?” Sam asked.

“We were at a party and I think he got out the ‘will you’ part before running off to the bathroom. That’s the only time I’ve ever witnessed him vomiting from alcohol.” He shuddered, remembering having to console his incredibly drunk friend in the bathroom. Now, he was happy that Harrison was finally talking to you like you were a normal person or he was trying to. As if he was trying to will his friend some confidence, he murmured, “Just don’t choke, don’t walk away.”

“Here,” Harrison handed you a cup that he had transferred the Whiteclaw into, not wanting to give you back a sticky can. He washed his hands, acknowledging the sad Whiteclaw mark on his shirt.

“Thanks.” You replied, taking a sip of the drink.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison whispered, but with his back to you, the music blasting, and the sink still on, he knew you didn’t hear it. And he also knew that if he didn’t have the sound to drown out his words and if he turned to face you, he wouldn’t be able to recite his perfect speech. Sighing, he shut off the sink and turned to face you. As he started to speak, you looked at him and that was enough for him to not even make it past the “I”. Instead, he ended standing there and just moving his mouth, trying to get the words to come out.

“Yes?” You questioned. You remembered back at school that he was always nervous around you and you found it really cute and sweet. That was the main reason you were so interested in going on a date with him four years ago, and that was the main reason why you were so disappointed when he never showed up. Out of all the guys you’d ever met, Harrison was the one that you never believed would stand you up like that. It’d been four years, and you didn’t quite know if you still held a grudge over it. It hurt at the time because you really liked him and you thought he really liked you too, but years had passed so surely you should’ve moved on by now, right? And Harrison- he should have moved on too?

“I- um- ya know,” Harrison felt his tongue getting trapped in his throat. He wanted to scream out how sorry he was about everything and how much he actually cared about you, but the thought of actually talking anymore was making him want to vomit and he hadn’t even had that much to drink. Maybe alcohol with extreme nervousness wasn’t a good mixture for his body.

“Hey,” Tom approached you and Harrison, sweeping in to save his bumbling best friend.

“Hey, happy birthday.” You smiled at him. Harrison hung his head low in shame, he’d manage to mess it up again. He was more than thankful for Tom’s arrival.

“Thank you.” The birthday boy replied with a smile. He turned to Harrison and nudged him a little. “Harrison, what were you going to say?”

“Just, um-“ Harrison lifted his head to look at you, and suddenly wished he hadn’t. With your eyes resting on his intently and his heart beating fast, he could barely think. He thought back to his speech, back to those apologetic words he needed to say, back to his conversation with Tom just moments before the party. He quickly realized his mistake of thinking back to that recent memory because, before he could process his words, he helplessly blurted out, “You’re like Medusa.”

“Yeah- what?” Tom stopped himself, horrified at his friend’s words. He was fully prepared to back Harrison up, expecting him to say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’- just anything besides ‘you’re like Medusa’. You just stood there with your eyes wide and jaw dropped. You didn’t even know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely was not that.

“You know, like- you just-“ The blond tripped on his words, looking to Tom for help.

“What he means to say,” He sent his friend a glare before turning to you, “He’s sorry about your date years ago, and he finds you mesmerizing.”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You spoke angrily, feeling hurt by Harrison’s words. So much for the sweet and cute teenager you remembered. “Go fuck yourself, Harrison.” Before you even processed your own actions, you threw the rest of your drink on him and stormed out.

“I’m,” Harrison sighed in defeat as his body started to function without you there, “Sorry.”

“Medusa? Are you fucking serious?” Tom asked, infuriated at his friend’s idiotic words. He was grateful that the party was too loud for anyone to register your actions, except for Sam and Harry who were quick by Harrison’s side.

“What the hell happened?” Harry questioned.

“I fucked it up even more.” Harrison groaned, grabbing some napkins to try to wipe off his face and shirt.

“He said she was like Medusa.” Tom explained.

“Since when is your game with girls shit?” Sam stated.

“She is like Medusa though. I freeze whenever she’s there.” The poor blond kept trying to wipe himself off.

“Well you don’t tell her that!”

“I need to go change.” Harrison sighed, leaving for his bedroom without another word.

“We either need to help him get over her or help him get her back.” Harry said as he watched his friend’s retreating form.

“Tonight was supposed to be getting her back.” Tom huffed in defeat. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Back in his room, Harrison discarded his wet shirt and went to his closet to grab a fresh shirt. That’s when he spotted it- the blue button up he’d worn for his date with you. It was his favorite shirt in his teen years, everyone always complimented it and his eyes whenever he wore it; but it had negative memories surrounding it, the negative thoughts of what could have been. It was mocking him. Grabbing a different shirt, he slipped it on comfortably.

He didn’t want to go back to the party downstairs. He just wanted to stay within the comforts of his room, where he could hide from socializing and act like you didn’t just humiliate him, like he had humiliated you years ago. He had to admit, he deserved a Whiteclaw to the face; in fact, he’d absolutely let you pour an entire keg on him if it made you feel better. God, he was so whipped for you, and you didn’t even know it, and worst of all, you weren’t even his.

Sighing, he laid down on his bed, wanting to savor a few minutes alone. It took him a moment before he registered the soft crinkling of paper and realized he’d been laying on his prepared speech for you.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you’re probably still mad, but just hear me out. I’m four years too late, and that’s four years I should’ve shown you just how amazing you are. I remember the first day I saw you at school. You were the prettiest girl in our school by far; I’d never seen anything as magnificent as you. You were funny, sweet, confident, beautiful inside and out- you were my dream girl. It took me months to work up the courage to talk to you, and I was so pleased when you’d reply to my small greetings with a simple smile. And then it took me even longer to have a full conversation with you. Do you remember it? It was about When Harry Met Sally because you said it was your favorite movie. I told you that I had seen it, but I lied and you knew it too. You were too nice to call me out on that though. Honestly, I still haven’t seen it. I know we didn’t talk much in school, it was more of a ‘we’re friends because we share classes’ friendship, but I still cherished every single time I got to hear your voice.

I know you’re wondering why I stood you up back then, but I didn’t intentionally do it. I was there, at the fairgrounds, two minutes early, and I was stressing over everything- over how I didn’t have a clean jacket to offer you in case you got cold, how I should greet you at the gate, whether or not I should kiss you at the end of the night. You meant so much to me back then- you still do now, but I was too nervous. I couldn’t get out of my car once I saw you there in that blue dress with the dandelions. You were breathtaking, and I couldn’t comprehend how someone as incredible as you would want to go on a date with me. You had almost every single guy at the school in love with you, it just didn’t seem possible that I could win your heart. It took me an hour, but I finally got out of the car and I was going over to you. I was so anxious and I still didn’t know what to say to you. You didn’t realize I was there, but I heard you on the phone. You said you wore that blue dress because you thought it matched my eyes, because you thought I’d like it more, you thought it’d make me like you more.

But you didn’t need a baby blue dress to make me like you. I was so head over heels in love with you back then. You didn’t know it then, and I didn’t know it quite yet either, but you owned my heart. I know this is a lot, and I know this is cheesy, but I do love you. I regret what I did four years ago and I often contemplate how different our lives would be if I had actually shown up like I was supposed to. I don’t regret giving you my heart though; it’s been yours for years and it’ll probably always be yours. So please, will you give me another chance? Will you go on a date with me? And I promise to show up and make it worth your while. You own my heart, please give me a chance at yours.’

Harrison laughed lightly to himself. The note was a pathetic attempt at some grand declaration of love and an apology. As sad as the speech was, he hated himself for not saying it to you. Instead he called you Medusa, of all things to say that was the worst. He didn’t mean it as a put-down or as a derogatory statement; he meant that you were just so captivating to him that he froze whenever he saw you. Everything about you was so beautiful, and he really needed to tell you that, even though he was sure you already knew it. He knew what he meant, but it didn’t come across at all how he intended it to.

He set the paper on his desk and left his room, knowing Tom would be expecting him to return to the party. Freshly changed, he went back downstairs and spotted the other three boys still in the kitchen conversing- he bet it had something to do with him, seeing as they all immediately quieted down when they saw him coming towards them.

“You alright?” Tom asked, genuinely concerned about his friend, even though he was currently trying to plot getting you and Harrison at least in the same room together again.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Harrison replied. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t fooling anyone really. He grabbed himself a new drink and went to get lost in the crowd. Tom sighed; maybe he shouldn’t have tried to push Harrison tonight, seeing his friend so upset just put a downer on Tom’s mood.

The night went on for Harrison though. Harry had been right last week- Shelby did bring some pretty attractive friends with her that she introduced to the blond (he thought mainly because Tom asked her to after the earlier events). One of them latched onto Harrison, and he didn’t mind the distraction, turning on his charm easily for her. Sam and Harry eyed their friend from afar as he flirted with the new girl; there was no denying Harrison could easily get a girl, which made it even more unbelievable that he was so tongue tied over you.

A few days passed and Harrison was still trying to recover from the party. His thoughts were still stuck on you. He couldn’t believe he had a second chance to talk to you and didn’t. Well, he did, but comparing you to Medusa wasn’t a good talk.

Unbeknownst to him, Tom had created an “ingenious” plan of getting Harrison to see you again, another shot for their friend to say something more than just a sad simile.

“We’re leaving now.” Tom said to Harrison as he and Harry started to walk out the door.

“Okay?” Harrison questioned. It was odd for any of them to announce that they were leaving the house. He had a strange feeling that his friends were up to something, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually care. What he didn’t realize was that Tom left with an envelope, encasing a familiar speech written by Harrison himself.

Hearing the front door close, he turned back to his phone in his hand. He took a sip of his tea as he continued to scroll through your Wikipedia page. Was it weird that he was looking you up? As long as no one knew, he felt like it was fine. He read over your brief background, which just said you were from Kingston.

He choked on his drink a little as he read over how you were discovered. You were singing one of your own songs in a cafe when an agent spotted you and eventually offered you a record deal. The song became your first official single and it was featured on your album of the same name. The song and album name? Dandelion. He could see it then, your blue dress with the delicate dandelion print on it with a denim jacket on top and a slightly damaged left pocket. He turned on the song on Spotify, listening to the lyrics, curious to see if it was about him. As the soft song began, he started to feel foolish; why would you have written a song about him? Maybe you just liked dandelions? Maybe you wore that dress on many dates? It looked incredible on you, so why wouldn’t you wear it often?

“Dandelion, a million little wishes float across the sky, but it’s a waste of breath and it’s a waste of time, I know,” You sounded almost sad as you sang, and Harrison assumed that’s what made you such a good singer, your emotion bled through into your songs, “‘Cause just like him, you always leave me crying, dandelion,”

Crying. Harrison made you cry when he stood you up. Maybe the song wasn’t completely about him, but something told him you may have been inspired after that night. He looked further into the song, wondering if maybe you had publicly said anything. Under the song’s Wikipedia page, it had a quote from you, saying “It was one of the worst nights of my life, getting stood up absolutely sucks and it’s embarrassing, but this song changed my life for the better, so I can’t help but feel a little grateful for that awful date”. As if the song didn’t already make him feel worse about it, you had confirmed it was about him, except no one knew that besides the two of you and anyone else who knew about that date specifically. Further looking into the seemingly endless page of information, he spotted the awards section. He couldn’t hide his pained smile as he read that not only was the song and album nominated for a Grammy, but you had actually won a Grammy for the song. So maybe there was a bright side to him not showing up that night because his actions made you write an incredible song.

As the song faded out, he jumped, hearing a sharp knock at the door. He quickly paused your music and closed out of his tab, not wanting anyone to have caught him basically stalking you online. He shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and walked to the door, wondering who would be arriving unannounced. He opened the door and froze, just like a few days ago, as you stood on his doorstep. The small smile on your face faltered as you saw him.

“Y/N, what- what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were there and it wasn’t just a hallucination.

“Tom invited me. Something about using my music in a film?” You explained, and Harrison raised his eyebrows at you questioningly. You sighed lightly, “Can I just come in and see Tom?”

“He, uh, he isn’t here.” He replied. A light bulb went off in his head, realizing why Tom was literally announcing his departure; he wanted you to be alone with Harrison.

“He said he was here. I just talked to him on the phone.” You stated, not fully believing him.

“No, he isn’t here.” He shook his head.

“Well, um, then I’m going to go.” You said, turning around. Harrison’s mind was racing, you were about to leave him again. Tom had already tried once to get you two together; he couldn’t let his best friend down again, he couldn’t let himself down again.

“”Dandelion”.” Harrison blurted out, stepping out of his to catch you before you got into your car.

“What?” You questioned.

“”Dandelion”. It’s a really good song.” He grimaced, suddenly feeling lame for saying it out loud. He didn’t mean to bring it up, but he needed to say something to you, and dear God it needed to be better than the Medusa comment.

“Thanks, I won a Grammy for it, so,” You answered proudly, pursing your lips together.

“I- I know.” His flickered down to your hand that rested almost threateningly on your car door handle. You were just about to pull it and leave when he spoke up again, “That dress looked amazing on you.”

This time, it was you who froze. You weren’t wearing a dress now, you weren’t wearing one at the party, and you definitely weren’t wearing one at the grocery store. Your mind had already made up its decision of what he meant, but your heart wouldn’t accept that pain all over again. “It’s been four years, Harrison. You don’t get to say anything now. I thought you were better than standing up a girl on a date that she was genuinely looking forward to.”

Harrison couldn’t react fast enough to your seething words before you got in your car and slammed the door shut, driving off quickly without sparing him another glance. Once your car was out of sight, Harrison screamed out in agonizing frustration. He had you right there, you were right in front of him, he was actually talking to you, and he still managed to mess it all up. It seemed like no matter what he said or did, you weren’t ready to forgive him, but he wasn’t even sure he deserved your forgiveness.

“You let her go again?” Tom questioned, coming around the far corner of the house with Harry.

“I thought you two left.” Harrison looked at the pair suspiciously.

“We had to make sure you didn’t fuck it up again, but seems like you did.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Why did you tell her you were there? That’ll make her feel worse!”

“At least you didn’t call her Medusa.” Harry added, earning a pointed look from Harrison.

“Just stop trying to set me up with Y/N. She’s clearly still mad at me over it, and I can’t keep going through this humiliating cycle of rejection.” With that, Harrison wordlessly stormed back into the house and up to his room, angry at his friends for trying so hard to make this right, angry at you for rejecting him yet again, angry at himself for letting you go again and again. Could he get another chance with you after messing it up four years ago and at the grocery store and at the party and now? He so desperately wanted the answer to be yes, but he feared his chances with you were up.

Harry turned skeptically to his older brother as the two walked inside the house. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“He talked to her at least. He said a full sentence and it was a compliment.” He said proudly, walking into the kitchen with his brother following him.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I’m meaning your other plan.”

“The letter? There’s two ways it can go: Y/N never talks to him again or she’s touched and reaches out to him.” He stopped, thinking for a moment, “Or she writes another Grammy-winning song about him being a dick. We’ll see in a few days what she does.”

“He’s going to hate you for this, you know that.”

“He won’t hate me when they’re on a date.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’ll hate you for invading his privacy.”

“Whatever. Our plan is genius.” Tom smiled, extremely hopeful about his plan.

“Our? This was all your idea.”

“You’re an accomplice.”

“I’m a victim caught in the crossfire.” Harry held up his hands defensively.

Upstairs, Harrison was starting to grow worried. Where was his paper? He’d been running through it almost every day, hoping to grow the courage to tell you exactly how he felt. He was shit at words in person when it came to you, and he felt like he was even worse on paper. The speech was gone, and he had no clue where it was. He hoped no one had stumbled upon it- after all, he definitely hadn’t told his housemates about it.

Two days later, Tom started to get anxious, waiting for you to receive the letter and contact his friend. He thought perhaps it got put with fanmail, and you just wouldn’t see it for a while. He knew it was soon, but he was really, really impatient and he just wanted to do one thing right for his best friend, even if Harrison’s one request was for Tom to stop trying to be his wingman (in Tom’s defense, he told him to stop after the letter was sent and Harrison still didn’t know about it).

Trying to distract himself, Tom played Warzone with Harry. Neither of them had really talked about the whole letter situation, wanting the letter to take its own course. Just before they started another round, they heard a thud from Harrison’s room.

“What was that?” The older boy mumbled in confusion.

“Maybe he fell off the bed.” Harry laughed. His joke was short lived as Harrison came bolting down the stairs, phone in hand.

“Tom, give me your phone.” He insisted.

“Why?” Tom asked, handing over his phone anyway. After scrolling through it for a moment, Harrison’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, looking between the two phone screens.

“What is it?” The two others questioned.

“Y/N- she texted me.” Harrison smiled in disbelief, handing his friend his phone back. He sat down in the empty armchair and looked at his phone in awe.

“What’d she say?” Tom spoke up, ignoring his brother’s questioning look.

“She just said ‘You get one date. Don’t mess this up’.” He read off his phone, and Tom turned to his brother, nudging him a little. You’d gotten Harrison’s letter (that Tom sent) and you’d given him another chance.

“What’d you respond with?” Harry asked.

“I haven’t responded yet. She just texted me.” He said, nervously moving his thumbs as his phone rested in his hands. “Do I just ask about this Friday?”

“You mean tomorrow?” Tom clarified and he nodded.

“Too soon?”

“No, go for it.” He encouraged his friend. He smiled proudly as Harrison typed out the text and sent it to you.

“I wonder what changed her mind. I mean she was really mad last time. What if she’s leading me on? What if she’s going to stand me up?” He rambled anxiously. God, you hadn’t even planned a date yet, and he was a nervous mess.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Tom reassured him. Harrison hurried out of the room, murmuring something about needing to plan the perfect date (round 2). Tom turned to his younger brother, “She wouldn’t stand him up as revenge, right?”

Harry shrugged with a small sigh. Well, the boys could hope your intentions were good.

As Harrison tried to reel in his head and racing heart in the quiet reserve of his room, he felt his phone vibrate with another text from you. ‘They’re showing When Harry Met Sally tomorrow night at the park. Pick me up at 7?’

That’s not at all what he expected to receive back from you. Well, he definitely didn’t expect a text from you in the first place, which is why he had to check that it was actually your number on Tom’s phone. He didn’t expect your response to his sorta lame ‘are you free tomorrow night’ to be you planning the date itself. And not only that, but you wanted to see When Harry Met Sally- the first thing he ever truly talked to you about.

He could still remember that conversation clear as day. You were sitting beside him in study hall and pulled out your iPod to listen to music, since your 2010 phone didn’t have any music on it. You didn’t realize your headphones weren’t completely in, and your music started to play quietly. Harrison heard the soft jazz song play and decided to ask you about it before you got too caught up in your work. You smiled, telling him how “It Had to Be You” was from the greatest movie of all-time (in your opinion) When Harry Met Sally. He told you he’d seen it before and thoroughly enjoyed it as well, but the blank stare on his face when you brought up Meg Ryan was a dead giveaway to you that he hadn’t actually seen it. And yet, you didn’t make a comment about it; instead you asked him about his favorite movie. Before he could respond, your teacher called for silence, making you focus back on your work with your headphones plugged all the way into your iPod. Harrison thought that perhaps he saw you blush as you turned away from him, but he was too preoccupied with his mind still trying to process that you two had a conversation, a tiny one but it was enough for him.

He couldn’t argue with you about seeing the movie at the park tomorrow. You were giving him another chance, and if you wanted to see a movie in the park then Harrison would make damn sure that you’d get to see a movie in the park, even if he had to set up the projector and screen all by himself. This was his fifth chance with you, he couldn’t mess this up again.

“Ok, now remember, Y/N’s a human being so talk to her like one.” Tom stated as he stood by the front door with Harry and Sam beside him. Harrison sat at the step at the bottom of the stairs, tugging on his shoes. His big date was finally here, and his friends were grilling him on making it perfect. It kind of helped, but it also stressed him out a bit more.

“And compliment her, but not in a weird way.” Sam added.

“Don’t even think about Medusa.” Harry piped in.

“You got a clean jacket?” The oldest Holland asked. Harrison ducked back into his room to grab a fresh jacket, one that was perfect for you to wear tonight if you got cold.

“And you have the flowers, right?” At Harry’s words, the nervous boy rushed into the kitchen to grab the small, modest bouquet of fresh roses he had gotten earlier.

“How do I look?” Harrison asked, seeking approval as he held the bouquet in one hand and his jacket and keys in another. In jeans and a casual yet dressy blue shirt, he hoped he looked good enough for you. He thought about wearing that blue shirt he wore last time, but decided against it- maybe that shirt has bad voodoo on it, he didn’t know and he didn’t want to test it.

“You look great, now go get her.” Tom ushered him out of the door.

With a confident yet nervous spring in his step, Harrison stepped inside his car. He delicately placed the flowers and jacket on the passenger seat, sure to not damage or dirty either of them. He made his way over to your place, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. ‘Don’t choke’ he reminded himself. He needed to just make sure he didn’t freeze when he saw you; that was the most important thing, especially since he’d be driving the two of you tonight.

He pulled up to your house just two minutes before he was meant to be there. Two minutes for him to get up and greet you at the door. Just as he was about to open his door and step outside, your front door opened. He sat there awestruck as he watched you lock your door and head over to his car. You were sporting jeans and a simple navy blue blouse, and he swore you looked absolutely gorgeous. He unlocked his car and you opened the door, not even giving him any time to actually greet you outside.

“I got you flowers.” Harrison said, grabbing the jacket and the flowers off the seat to make room for you to sit.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” You smiled softly, but still graciously accepted the flowers when he handed them to you. You smelled them and eyed the various pink and red roses that made up the bouquet, “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He replied, making you stifle a small laugh, even though you both knew how much he meant it.

“You look pretty handsome, too.” You stated and he started his car back up. “Sorry for rushing out here. My roommate was driving me crazy.”

“I get it.” He laughed, thinking about just how crazy Tom had been acting the past couple weeks. Well, maybe his craziness rubbed off because it led to this moment right here- Harrison taking you on a proper date and hopefully, not freezing.

As Harrison drove over to the park, you two talked about basically everything, about how eager you were to show him this movie, about how his acting had been doing, about how his dog was (he was surprised you remembered Monty). All of it just made him feel more comfortable. Once he got past the wall of nerves from your presence, he was able to flick on his charm for you. You may have been his dream girl, but you were also just a regular person, a person he could hold a steady conversation with. When the two of you arrived at the park, he quickly rushed to the back of his car instead of walking towards the movie itself.

“I brought us a blanket and some snacks.” He explained when he saw your confusion. You smiled at him as he got out a large blanket and a bag of sweets and drinks from his trunk. You may have been the one to decide on the date itself, but he did his own part of the planning, ensuring you had a clean spot to sit and something to eat and drink while the movie played. “I didn’t know what snacks you liked so I kinda got some of everything.”

He opened the bag out to show you its contents and you peered inside. He had sweet candy, chocolate candy, salty snacks, just everything. You looked back up at him and a bright blush made its way onto his cheeks. In your eyes, he was back to being the sweet 19 year old you had agreed to go on a date with four years ago.

“It’s perfect.” You reassured him, but you weren’t even sure if you meant the snacks or the date or just him.

“Well, we better hurry if we want a good spot before the movie starts.” Harrison laughed lightly, closing the bag and shutting his trunk. You walked beside him to where the movie would be showing and found a nice spot near a tree. He laid out the blanket for you and the two of you sat down next to each other, but not enough to actually be touching.

“I’m genuinely excited for you to see this.” You told him as the ads finished, signaling the start of the movie.

“I am, too.” He smiled over at you one last time before the movie truly began. It was only a few minutes into the film when you shifted to lean in Harrison’s side. After the initial shock of your movement, Harrison wrapped an arm around your waist so that you could fall easily into his side while you watched the movie play out. Halfway through the film, he felt you shiver a little and quickly handed you his jacket. He smiled to himself, happy that he definitely did at least one thing right, as you thanked him for the warm jacket.

Sharing snacks with you throughout the movie, he found himself truly enjoying it. He could see how it was your favorite film, how you loved the featured song so much that it was your favorite song. He couldn’t help but acknowledge how it was a film all about second chances, or really just multiple chances with the same person over and over again until they both finally got it right. His history with you may not have been exactly like the film, but he felt like it still resonated; he wondered if you chose the movie completely on accident or if you had remembered about that first conversation, if you had thought of it as similar to your current situation.

His overthinking wasn’t done there though. As he drove you back to your place after the movie concluded, you two discussed the movie (this time with actually understanding who Meg Ryan is). He was a little dazed as he talked, trying to think of how to end the night. Would it be too forward if he kissed you? Because truth be told, he’d wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you all those years ago. When he pulled up to your house, he was happy to see you still casually wearing his jacket. He didn’t want the night to end, especially considering he still hadn’t really apologized for four years ago, still hadn’t explained himself for what happened at the party, still hadn’t explicitly told you about the mesmerizing effect you had over him.

“Well, thank you for tonight. It was nice.” You spoke up with a smile.

“Yeah, it was.” He nodded, feeling himself start to choke up. He’d made it almost two hours without becoming speechless in front of you, and now at the end of the night, perhaps when it mattered most, he couldn’t speak. You waited a moment before getting out of his car, almost like you were expecting him to say something more. He watched your retreating figure, your right hand shoved deep into his jacket’s pockets. It hit him all at once; you were nervous, you were wearing his jacket, you were walking away from him again. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Wait!” Harrison rushed out of his car and hurried up the driveway to you on the porch. As you stood there in front of him, looking at him intently, his nerves came racing back to him, but he had to say the words. ‘It’s now or never’, he told himself.

“Okay, this is four years overdue, but here it goes.” He started with a small sigh, “I know you think I didn’t show the night I was supposed to meet you at the carnival, but I did. You were standing at the front gate. You were wearing a light blue babydoll dress with dandelions on it and a jean jacket, but the right pocket was ripped because you always used to shove your first in there when you got nervous.” You slowly looked down at your right hand, nervously in the jacket’s pocket. Speechless, you listened to him continuing on.

“You were pacing back and forth that night and waited around for almost an hour before you walked away. And you were on the phone to someone when you walked away, telling them that you wore that dress so that it would match my eyes.” Harrison paused, swallowing down his nerves, “I was so nervous, I choked. And you know what, that hardly ever happens to me, but the truth is, Y/N, I think I liked you too much, and somewhere in the back of my head, I knew what that night would mean, and even how my life could be different now if I hadn’t let you walk away, but this a different moment, and- and it’s a chance to make a different choice.” He felt himself starting to choke up again, “And you’re really amazing, and I know we can’t go back in time, but I wish that there was some way-”

Harrison’s words were cut short as you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Though he was incredibly stunned by the fact that you kissed him, his arms went to your waist, pulling you into him as he kissed you back passionately. The kiss ended all too quickly for him when you stopped it for air.

“Definitely four years overdue.” You smiled at him. If he wasn’t breathless already from the passionate kiss, your smile just his breath away even more.

“Thank you for giving me another chance. I really didn’t want to mess any of this up.” He admitted.

“Well, the letter was so sweet, I couldn’t say no.” You leaned in to kiss him again. He pulled back from the kiss though with wide eyes.

“What letter?” He asked.

“The one that you wrote? About me being the prettiest girl in school and how you were there when I thought you stood me up?” You explained, and his cheeks grew red in embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He groaned, “I wrote that just so I could apologize to you at the party and to tell you how much you mean to me. I didn’t mean to say you’re like Medusa- I just meant that you’re-” You cut him off with another kiss.

“You talk too much sometimes.” You laughed.

“I can get used to getting cut off like that.” Harrison smiled at you, kissing you again.

He may be mad at Tom for sending that private speech, but Harrison got the girl in the end so maybe his friend wasn’t the worst wingman ever.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfic

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thatbloodymuggle · 5 years ago

Text

the one with the contaminated beer bottle

Tongue Tied 1/?

masterlist

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cursing ig? mentions of death

read it on wattpad

playlist

"Miss Connolly, what makes you think you'd be a good fit for emancipation?"

The unbothered judge flipped through a stack of papers, glasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. The seventeen-year-old shifted uncomfortably in her seat between her uncle and her lawyer. It was painfully evident that all four of them, the judge, the lawyer, the uncle, and the girl, would rather be anywhere else.

"Well," the girl coughed to clear her throat, "I believe that I have the facilities to thrive on my own. I have a paid off house and car in my name from my mom's will, a sizeable amount of savings from my dad's, and a steady income from my job. It's not huge, but I'm hoping to build it up over the summer. I'm also on track to go to UNC Chapel Hill with my test scores and my dad's legacy, so education won't be a problem."

The air in the room seemed to get thicker with each word. The girl's throat was drying, and she felt the sweat building up on her palms. The office was silent apart from the nail-tapping of the lawyer, the occasional cough from the judge, and her uncle's chair squeaking.

"Overall, I think I'm just as capable to provide for myself, if not more, than my uncle. I believe I am responsible enough to be recognized as an adult, and I really want this for myself," she finished.

The girl let out a huge sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. The drab room grew silent again apart from the bored "hmm" from the judge. Her uncle squeaked in his chair again. The nail-tapping from the lawyer continued.

"Mr. Connolly, do you believe your neice is a good candidate for emancipation?"

The greying man didn't hesitate to grumble a rushed 'Yes' while stroking his untamed beard. The judge nodded in response.

"And Mrs. Watson, based on your assessment, do you too believe that Miss Connolly is a good candidate for emancipation?"

The lawyer stopped her nail tapping and shot a plastic smile towards the judge. "Yes Sir. From my meetings with Miss Connolly, I believe she is a perfect fit," molasses dripped from her deep voice, gravelly from years of smoking.

"Well," the judge shuffled a few more papers, "Then it seems you've made my job here easy. With great references and support from your uncle and reviewer, I don't see any reason to deny you what you want. By the power vested in me by the North Carolina Judicial System, I declare Rose-Ann Mae Connolly to be an emancipated minor."

The air in the room thinned and Rosie felt a massive weight lift off her shoulders.

The next few minutes of papers and signatures were a blur. Her body carried her through the motions, but her mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in the realm of 'Holy shit. I'm free'. She swiftly shook the judge's hand, and collected her paperwork. Her uncle was already out the door, and she didn't hesitate to follow.

The pair weaved in and out of hallways and staircases towards the exit in silence. Rosie's mind was reeling with too many emotions, and David Connolly just wanted to get home and continue his marathon of Duck Dynasty. Before she knew it, they'd reached her mom's Mini-Cooper and his 2004 Toyota Corolla parked side by side. David Connolly continued to move in silence as he transferred a large suitcase from his trunk to her backseat.

"Well, uh," he swung the door of her red car shut, "I guess this is it."

He shifted awkwardly, and scratched at his overgrown beard. The Connollys cleared their throats simultaneously in a pathetic attempt to fill the awkward silence.

"Yeah, looks like it," Rosie sighed with a tight-lipped smile. Her uncle nodded sharply and unlocked his dented car door.

"Drive safe, then. You have my number if something goes wrong," the greying man grunted while climbing into his beat-up car.

Rosie waved a breathy, "Bye," just as he slammed the car door shut. He didn't hesitate to pull, quite recklessly, out of the parking lot. The 17-year-old watched the Toyota drive away until she could no longer see it. She shook herself back to reality as the car blinked from existence. Slowly, a grin took over her face. Her heart beat out of her chest in excitement.

She could finally go home.

Rosie jumped into her infamous red Mini-Cooper and slammed the door shut behind her. She gripped the wheel, her grin growing so wide it hurt. She released the scream of excitement bubbling inside her. She must have looked crazy to anyone passing by, but Rosie didn't care.

She was finally going home.

The young girl forced herself to settle down, but a smile remained. Rosie inserted her mother's Beatles for Sale CD into the car player and prepared herself for the 2-hour drive to the OBX. The engine revved in sync with the silky, smooth voice of Paul McCartney. Rosie zoomed out of the parking lot in record time to begin her trek down the North Carolina state road. Signs, farms, and gas stations passed, but the only thing on Rosie's mind was home.

God, she'd missed her friends. She'd missed late nights at The Wreck with Kie, and study sessions on the docks with Pope. She'd missed impromptu races against John B, and the whole crew dog-piling on John B's hammocks. Hell, she'd even missed rolling blunts with JJ and their constant bickering.

Rosie's fingers drummed against the steering wheel to the beat of Eight Days A Week. The warmth in her stomach and the smile on her face felt unfamiliar. This was the first time she'd felt true joy since her mom had passed just 4 months earlier. Finally, everything seemed to be falling back into place.

By the time the teenager had reached the ferry, she'd cycled through two Beatles CD's and one Bob Dylan. Just a little further, she thought to herself as she boarded the large boat. Her phone buzzed beside her. She scrambled to grab it, nearly dropping it.

12:01 P.M Kie: any news?

1:43 P.M Pope: How'd it go?

1:44 P.M Pope: Btw, if u can't come back we'll survive. U know like good riddance see u never type vibe

1:45 P.M Pope: Sorry that was JJ

1:45 P.M Pope: He's an ass

3:59 P.M JB: ur KILLING us here. what's the verdict!?

Rosie grinned at the texts she'd received from her friends over the past couple of hours. She began to type a reply, but deleted it midway. She was so close by now that it would be more fun to surprise them instead.

The teenager leaned against the railing next to her car. The salty smell and cool breeze tickling her nose was a bliss like no other. Rosie peered into the distance, catching sight of a blurry island in the distance. A soft grin tugged at her lips. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, enjoying the ocean air and peaceful waves she'd missed oh-so-much.

The warmth in her gut grew as the ferry approached the dock. Within minutes, Rosie was driving her Mini-Cooper off the massive boat.

The Outer Banks. Home. She couldn't believe she was finally back. Rosie turned onto the main road and drove towards the small home one of her dearest friends inhabited. She'd drop off her things at her own house later. She just couldn't wait a second longer before seeing her friends.

Rosie usually hated driving through the Figure Eight, but even the sight of the lavish houses and boys in polos put a smile on her face. It was the first sense of familiarity she'd felt in months. Minutes passed and her heart raced as she got closer and closer. Before she knew it, the Chateau was just in the distance. Another uncontrollable grin took over Rosie's face. She was bouncing in her seat in excitement.

She pulled her small car onto the gravel driveway and jumped out. Rosie stared at the shack in disbelief for a brief moment. She was afraid she'd never see the beat-up place ever again, but here she was. Kie's familiar shriek sounded from inside the house. This was enough to send Rosie racing towards the front door. The screen door nearly swung off its hinges from her force.

Four startled faces shot towards the door. There was a moment of silence: Rosie beaming in the doorway, John B dropping a half-full bottle of beer, Pope hanging sideways off the couch, Kie dropping her jaw, and JJ, well, JJ looking unbothered

The few seconds of silence were short-lived as the room burst out into indistinguishable screams.

"Oh my god!"

"You're alive!"

"She's a free woman!"

Rosie was tackled by Kie, quickly followed by John B and Pope. The four teenagers nearly tumbled to the ground.

"Guys... can't.. breathe..." Rosie struggled from underneath John B's armpit.

"It's what you get for leaving us hanging all day! We thought we'd never see you again," Kie laughed, squeezing her friend even tighter.

"Oh come on, Kie," Rosie wiggled out of the suffocating group hug. "I wanted it to be a surprise! I did good too, didn't I? Gotta keep you on your toes," she giggled.

"It was a pretty good surprise, Kie," Pope laughed, swinging an arm over Rosie's left shoulder while John B took her right.

"I've seen better. You know, could've added some flair: fireworks, balloons, a unicorn. 5 out of 10 at best," a certain blond piped up from the couch.

Rosie Connolly locked eyes with JJ Maybank. Usually, her mortal nemesis—a pest, if you will—but today, a friend. A mischievous grin took over her face, matching his playful smirk.

"Hey to you too, shithead," she quipped. "Aw, how sweet! You got me a 'welcome home' gift," Rosie swiftly shot forward and snagged his beer bottle mid-swig. JJ yanked her arm back in an attempt to salvage his beer, but she'd already stuck her tongue inside it.

"Oh, sorry, did you want this?" Rosie cocked her head at a pissed off JJ. "How rude of me! Here, you can have it," the girl feigned innocence, but couldn't wipe the devious smirk from her lips.

JJ snatched the beer back, "Oh nah," he spit inside the bottle, swirled it around a little, and handed it back to Rosie, "It's all yours. Welcome home, bitch."

She crinkled her nose in disgust at the contaminated drink. JJ leaned back in his seat, clearly pleased with himself. Rosie moved to dump the drink over his head, but John B intercepted before it could escalate.

"Hey hey, no need to get all loved up now. Let's keep the PDA to a minimum," John B snatched the bottle and set it on the counter. He tossed two new bottles to his bickering friends. Rosie caught it gracefully, and fell back onto the couch next to Kie.

"I swear, in some past life you two were an old married couple," Kie laughed, draping her legs over Rosie's. The Pogues chorused in laughter, apart from JJ and Rosie. He shot her his infamously infuriating smirk, to which she took a massive swig of beer.

"Damn, I've missed this," Rosie moaned at the bitter taste. "Haven't had a drink in four months."

Rosie brought the bottle back to her lips to take a second sip, but paused upon the realization that all four pairs of eyes were trained on her expectantly.

"What?" she cried, "Can I not have a drink without being stared down?"

"What do you mean what? We haven't seen you in four months and all you've gotta say is how much you love beer?" Pope deadpanned.

"Rose-Ann Mae Connolly, I knew you were always just mooching off of me!" John B jokingly accused. Rosie rolled her eyes at the two boys and set down the bottle.

"What've you been up to without us? How was the end of the school year? How was the trial?" Kie ignored John B and turned to face her friend with curious eyes.

"School? Boring. Living with David? Boring. Trial? Boring. And there you have it! 4 months in 5 seconds!" Rosie entangled her legs with Kiara's, letting her feet fall onto John B's lap.

Kiara began to protest at the severe lack of information, but was interrupted.

"A woman of many words," JJ grumbled from across the couch with his eyes closed as if he were mid-nap.

"Seriously, guys," Rosie huffed, "That's all it was—boring. But I'm here now, a legal adult, and I just wanna have fun, so let's do something fucking insane!" she diverted her friends away from asking anymore questions.

Truth be told, the last few months had been absolutely miserable. Grief is a heavy emotion. The great thing about having a family and friends is they can help carry some of the weight. But Rosie had been forced to spend those months grieving over the loss of her mother alone, and she was ready to move past it.

"Fair enough. Why don't we go late-night diving off the cliff up Old Miller Road later?" Kie suggested.

"Do you want to die?" Pope deadpanned at the same time that JJ spoke, "Sounds exhilarating".

"Oh, come on Pope. It's my first night back! Do it or you're lame," Rosie laughed at her nervous friend.

"Then I'm lame."

"Well, 4 to 5 majority rules," John B clapped his hands, "we'll leave from here at 10:00."

Four out of the five teenagers cheered. Pope crossed his arms and grumbled in disapproval.

Rosie pulled herself from the confines of Kie, "Sounds like a plan, but I should probably head back to my place for a little bit before. Need to unpack and, uh, clear some stuff out," she coughed awkwardly at the last part. Her friends nodded in understanding.

"I can come with if you want? You know, help you unpack and stuff," Kiara offered a warm smile.

Rosie smiled back, but shook her head, "Thanks, Kie, but I've got it covered."

"Are you sure?" John B added.

"Really," Rosie emphasized. "I'll be fine. I need to sort some papers out, anyways." The newly-emancipated teenager reluctantly lifted herself from the comfy couch and the warmth of her friends. "I'll be back soon. Don't you worry your pretty little head," she made a show of ruffling John B's untamed hair.

"Hurry back!" JJ's voice dripped with sarcasm underneath the hat that was now covering his face.

"Just for you," Rosie quipped. She did one last once-over at her friends before swinging the unstable door open. "See you soon!" she called as she strode back to her car.

The chatter of her friends died out as she moved further from the house and closer to the Mini-Cooper. A different sort of happiness flooded her body. Being isolated from the people she loved for so long was like losing a piece of her heart, and she'd finally found it. It was a warmth like no other, and as she drove home, she could only count down the minutes until she'd be with them again.

this is unedited oops

if you’d like to be added to a taglist, message/pm me!

part 2 coming soon!

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kill-the-teen-memories · 4 years ago

Text

365 So Fresh Part 5

Genre: Angst/Fluff/Humor

Word Count: 2,578

Warnings: Curse words, smoking, poly, mentions of smut, character death?

Pairings: Triple H x Reader

Summary: You just wanted to take a nap wile waiting for your friends, never did you expect the car you were sleeping in to be stolen and you would end up going for a road trip with a guy who had a gambling problem, a girl who committed a murder, and a guy who seems to just hate his life. You especially didn’t expect to have feelings for them??

Hui called an uber and we waited outside of the club for a few minutes. Once we climbed into the car, we were off. My leg was shaking in anticipation, I could hear the other three, whispering in the backseat. As soon as the car came to halt, the four of us ran out. Laughing and stumbling we made it to our room. Hui pushed the door open and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I had started developing an attachment to these three individuals and it hasn’t even been a week. “Y/N!” I heard Hyuna giggle from inside. I snapped out of my thoughts, went inside, and closed the door behind me. It all went by in a blur. All of our lips ghosting over each other’s bodies. Our clothes flying in all directions. The screams, the groans, the degradation as well as the praise. Before I knew it, I was exhausted. The last thing registering in my head was the warmth of a body covering my own and then everything went black.

I groaned as I tried to sit up but couldn’t as I was being held down by a heavy arm around my torso. I blinked a few times, trying to get my eyes to focus. The room slowly came together and I noticed it was early in the morning. I glanced at the clock on the wall, it was nearly 5 am. I then became increasingly aware of the two bodies I was laying in between. Hui had his front pressed against my back, his face in my neck, softly breathing, and an arm around my waist. While Hyuna was facing me, sound asleep. Her chest which had been exposed to the cool air around the room was slowly rising. Images from last night came tumbling into my head all at once. Being kissed by all three of them at the same time, throwing my head back as the feeling of Hui’s dick slipped in and out of me, the feeling of Hyojong’s lips pressed against my neck as he murmured praises and groans as Hyuna pleased him with her mouth. It brought a smile to my face. I moved Hui’s arm and sat up. The blanket sliding off of my own chest. I looked down at him, brushing the hair out of his face softly. I looked over to Hyuna’s side, only to realize Hyojong was nowhere to be found. As quietly as I could, I slipped out of the bed. I pulled on my underwear and grabbed Hui’s button-up. I walked into the living room, now semi-dressed and there he was. Hyojong sat on the couch, his head leaned back as he took a drag of what looked like a blunt. His eyes were closed and he was shirtless. Though he was thin, he had a nice build. My eyes raked over his body and all the bruises forming across his chest, probably from last night. He opened one eye before closing it again, “You know it’s rude to stare.” My cheeks burned slightly at the fact that I was caught. I shook my head as I made my way over to him. I plopped down on the space next to him, leaned my head on his shoulder, and sighed. He placed one hand on my exposed thigh and used his other hand to take another drag. He exhaled, “Couldn’t sleep?” I asked. He shook his head. A few minutes passed in silence. I picked my head up, placed a hand over his, and brought the blunt to my lips. He watched me carefully. His eyes flickering down to my lips where the blunt sat. I pushed his hand away and before I could exhale, he brought his lips to my own. Gently he used his tongue to open my mouth, causing me to release the smoke into his mouth. He softly groaned at the feeling, I moved his hand from my thigh and straddled him. Hui’s shirt rose up slightly, exposing my underwear. I felt Hyojong shift under me and I assumed he placed the now dead blunt on the table since both of his hands came to rest on my hips. The kiss wasn’t too needy but it was hard. Neither of us tried to take it further than just making out and I was okay with that. I parted, trying to catch my breath as Hyojong moved his head down towards my neck, leaving soft kisses. I let my hands rake through his hair, causing him to smile against my skin. He rested his chin on my shoulder as I laid my head against him. It was a soft moment compared to what had happened the night before. Soon I found myself drifting again.

When I awoke again, it felt like a different day. Except it wasn’t, Hyojong and I were still in the living room cuddled against each other. I lifted my head just in time to see Hyuna walk out of the room wearing her underwear and one of Hyojong’s shirts. “There you two are.” she smiled. I nodded at her while climbing off of Hyojong who seemed to have also fallen asleep, “Hey.” I yawned. I opened my mouth but stopped when I spotted Hui coming out of the room, pulling another one of his shirts on. “Oh! There’s my button-up.” He walked over to me placing his hands on my hips. “Good morning,” I smiled as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “My shirt looks really good on you,” he said as he pecked my lips. “Oh yeah?” I murmured. Before Hui could say anything else, Hyuna lightly smacked my ass, “Come on, get dressed, I’m hungry.” A little while later we were all dressed now and climbing into the car. The windows were rolled down, the music from the radio was playing loudly, laughter and song filled the air. It was beautiful. We ended up getting the food to go. Now we were sitting on one of the many benches surrounding the park. I didn’t give much input, I was just happy to be there and observe. I didn’t feel left out though. After we all ate and threw the food away, Hyuna reached for my hand “Come on.” she pulled me towards the swing set. We sat on them lightly swinging back and forth, that was until the boys decided to come up behind us and start pushing. It wasn’t long before Hui and Hyojong turned it into a game of who can swing the highest. Hyuna and I were just laughing and screaming the higher we got. I felt free. Eventually, the swinging came to a halt and we made our way back to the car. “Hey, I know of a place,” Hyojong spoke as he got into the passenger seat. Hui shrugged, getting behind the wheel “Lead the way.”

I looked out the window as buildings zoomed by soon turning into nothingness. Hyuna was resting against my shoulder. I looked over at her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Seriously Hyojong where the fuck are we?” Hui mumbled. We were in as some would put it “the middle of nowhere” I had no clue where we were going but Hyojong didn’t seem to mind. “Just trust me,” he said, “You’re going to lead us out here to kill us aren’t you?” Hui grumbled. “Turn right here,” Hyojong replied. “You didn’t deny it.” I chimed in.

“There’s literally no road.”

“You’re still driving.”

“I don’t even know where I’m going!”

“I do.”

“We’re going to die.”

“Stop being dramatic.”

“It’s just trees!”

“I’m aware.”

They went back and forth like this but Hui didn’t stop following Hyojong’s directions. “Okay now stop here.” Hui stopped the car and turned to the other male, “You brought us to look at trees.” Hyojong didn’t reply to that and got out of the car. Hui soon followed him. I shook Hyuna lightly, she had fallen asleep. She stirred and looked up at me. “Come on, apparently we’re here,” I told her. We both got out. “We go on foot from here,” Hyojong spoke. Hui looked at me, “We’re going to die.” I rolled my eyes and walked past him. After a few minutes of walking, Hyojong stopped. Once we all reached him we saw what he was looking at. It was a creek. There were moss-covered rocks which caused the water to form little waterfalls. The birds were chirping from above, some even drinking from the water. It was a sight. “Wow.” Hyuna breathed. Hyojong turned around looking at Hui “Told you I knew where I was going.” “You’re going to drown us,” he mumbled in reply. We all took seats by the creek. No one said anything for a while. We all just sat there appreciating nature. It wasn’t until a rabbit came into view that Hyojong broke the silence. “Isn’t it funny how life comes out differently than what you expect?” He laughed bitterly. He leaned back on his hands, head tilted up. “I wanted to be a veterinarian.” We didn’t reply so he continued “I wanted to help out, take care of and treat animals. God knows how many times I’ve tried to kill myself. How shitty my life turned out. Before this week, I couldn’t tell you the last time I had felt anything. It’s all been so meaningless. Maybe our meeting wasn’t.” “I wanted to be an entertainer.” Hui suddenly started. “I used to play piano with my mom, haven’t touched one since she left. All I ever wanted to do was make people happy by doing what I loved which was singing and playing the piano. I wonder if she still plays…” he trailed off. “I’m not sure exactly what I wanted in life, I ended up a hairdresser which I’m not too mad about but I always felt like there was something missing,” Hyuna spoke. They looked over at me but I didn’t know what to say. “I never gave anything much thought,” I mumbled, embarrassed that I didn’t have a “dream” that I wanted. “I just kind of went with things as they came. Never was truly passionate about something. I just exist, I don’t live.” I shrugged. It was true all of my interests had been fleeting, I moved on to the next thing fairly quickly. We were quiet again, everyone seemed to be thinking deeply about how their life had taken a turn. I thought back again. Growing up I had my problems, but I figured everyone did. I left my mom and the town I grew up in not long after I turned 18. Once in Seoul, I found that Bora had been looking for a roommate. Through her, I met Wooseok and Hyolyn. Yet I was never really there. I would listen to their stories of adventures and parties they went to. I hardly participated, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it was that I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to let loose and be comfortable in my own skin. The voice in the back of my head always had something to say and made me feel unsure. And that’s when I realized I hadn’t heard that voice this whole week. It was just me. As I looked out at the three of my newly found...friends, I smiled. A smile that I wasn’t faking, a smile that was as real as our surroundings. Hui nudged me with his foot. “What’s got you all smiley?” he chuckled. “I don’t know, everything, this, us.” I shrugged.

I don’t think anyone of us knew how much time had passed as we sat there in the woods, talking and listening. What we did know was that the sun had started to set somewhere behind the trees. So we got up, dusted ourselves off, and made our way back to the car. As regularly Hui drove, I got into the passenger seat, while Hyuna and Hyojong got into the back. We drove for a while to get back into the main part of town. “So what are we going to do tonight?” Hui clapped his hands together. “We could go to an arcade?” Hyuna spoke up. “Another bar?”Hyojong answered. Before I could say anything, lights flashed behind us. “Shit,” Hui mumbled. I looked in the rear mirror to see a police car driving closely behind us. The logical thing would’ve been to pull over. But seeing as the car was stolen, Hyuna was wanted for murder, and I was registered as “missing”, Hui did the next best thing. He made a sharp left into an alleyway and sped up. The police must not have seen it coming as they drove right by. Though I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time we saw them. As Hui continued to zoom past the streets in an attempt to lose the cops, Hyojong rolled the window down. His hair danced in the wind and he smiled. I decided to roll down my windows too. The wind was cool and refreshing. With the speed of the car and wind blowing against my face, I laughed. When lights flashed again but this time from in front of us, I laughed more. Hui made another sharp turn, narrowly missing another car. This time the cops were prepared as they made a turn equally as sharp in order to follow us. This time everyone felt the adrenaline. Hyojong climbed halfway out of the window and screamed. He then proceeded to flip off the police before getting pulled back in by a giggling Hyuna. Hui then turned onto a parking garage, the cop car that had been following us soon turned into three. Soon we made it to the top of the structure and we all climbed out messily. Still laughing, we ran over to the edge. “Wow. It’s beautiful.” I said as I looked out to the city lights. The other three nodded in agreement. We finally heard the sirens behind us and car doors slamming. One of the officers brought out a megaphone and yelled something about our hands. I couldn’t hear clearly, my ears were ringing. None of us turned around or even acknowledge the police. We all just held hands and stared out into the night. “Together?” Hyuna yelled. Without missing a beat, the remaining of us yelled back “Together!” I heard a faint “No” somewhere in a distance but it was too late. We had jumped. I glanced over to my side in time to see that Hyuna, Hyojong, and Hui were indeed there. I wasn’t alone. I looked up to see the stars and once again, smiled. I was going to be one of them soon. Falling is a weird feeling. Knowing that you’ll soon hit the ground is a weird feeling. But it’s free. It’s all apart of the journey in the end. And with one final glance at the moon, I closed my eyes. Until I felt no more.

When I opened my eyes again, everything was white. The deafening sound of silence was all to be heard. That was until I saw Hyuna appear, followed by Hyojong and Hui. They were all smiling and gestured at me. “Well come on!” Hyuna giggled. My smile grew as I sprinted in their direction, their arms awaiting me. I was home. And then we walked. We walked until our surroundings slowly disappeared and we were nothing but a speck.

Taglist: @cherrycolababie @killcomet @coolssssssss

A/N: AAAAA My first completed series!!! I know this part may not be the best especially with the long wait but it’s here. Pls pls let me know what we all think!

#kpop angst #kpop scenarios #kpop series #hyuna scenarios #hyuna angst #hui angst #hui scenarios #edawn scenario #edawn angst

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lunetheaveragefan · 4 years ago

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one day...

Hi, y’all! Sorry there’s been such a delay for Chapter 2. I’ve been super busy with school and dance and other activities and all that. Also, I decided about halfway through my original Chapter 2 that I was going to alternate between Virgil and Roman’s perspectives so I had to start a new chapter from scratch. But that means that now-Chapter 3 has already been started, so hopefully I’ll have it done by Friday this week!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of a possible fight/hospital. If you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 1,919

anyway, here it is!

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CHAPTER TWO

Roman Princeford is absolutely, completely, terribly humiliated.

He can’t stop blushing in embarrassment, and it only makes it worse when the classes are boring and he can't stop his mind from drifting to that morning. Like now, for example.

Stupid, stupid Roman, he chastises himself. Why didn’t you notice him there, you oblivious dumbass?

He groans and buries his head in his hands.

“Is something wrong, Roman?” the math teacher asks. “Do you need help?” Yes, but not the help you can give me, Roman thinks. He takes a breath and fixes a dazzling smile on.

“No, Mrs. Perry, I’m doing fine! Thank you for your offer of assistance, however!” he exclaims in his usual lyrical way. Roman always makes an effort to seem like he’s reading off a script, especially one where there’s a heroic prince he can play. It always makes him feel better when he plays a part. Then, Roman can imagine that he is the character. The same qualities, traits, life, everything.

He can ignore how stupid he is and pretend he’s a brave, dashing prince. The princes in stories would never have the problems Roman’s been having.

Mrs. Perry walks off, rolling her eyes, not without fondness, and Roman turns back to his math. Shoving his mind out of fantasy, he tries to solve the problems. It seems like he’s gotten nowhere by the time the bell rings. Throwing his paper into his bag, he hurries out of the room.

“Heya, Roman!” Patton Hart, his best friend, calls through the throng of people. Roman slows down so Patton can catch up. “How ya doing?”

“Uhh, Patton, I am a disaster!” Roman proclaims. “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”

“Oh no! What did you do this time?” Patton asks jokingly as they enter the classroom. History is one of the few classes they have together, so they always walk from fifth period there.

“I was telling a story, a great one, mind you, and knocked over a poor, innocent student!” Roman throws down his bag next to his seat and plops into the hard plastic chair. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was who I hit!” Pausing for dramatic effect, Roman finishes, “It was Virgil! I knocked over Virgil Tempest!”

Patton’s mouth forms a small ‘o’. He starts to laugh, but after seeing how embarrassed Roman is, he stops and places a hand on his shoulder. “What did he say?”

“Nothing much. Just some mumble-jumble. But now I can’t stop thinking about him! I didn’t get a single thing done in math! It’s terrible, Patton. My entire life is all going to go downhill from here! I’ll become ineligible for the play because I’m failing all my classes! I won’t be able to graduate, and then I’ll have to work.” He shudders. “That’s it! I’m done for. I’ll never accomplish anything!” He collapses back against the chair for dramatic effect. He knows he’s being very extra, but honestly, what else does anyone expect at this point? He’s Roman Princeford, after all.

If only I were the brave, loud, daring person the whole school thinks I am.

“Woah, woah, woah there buddy!” Patton comforts. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You aren’t going to fail high school. You just gotta tell him how you feel! Then you won’t have to worry about it anymore!”

Roman looks at Patton in shock.

“Tell him how I feel?” Patton nods, encouraging. Roman sits back up. “And make a fool of myself yet again? No thank you! He hates me, you know that! I’d be better off flunking high school! How could I look into those beautiful brown eyes in that beautiful face and tell him I had a crush on him! Impossible, I say! Impossible!” He throws out his hands, but then remembers that the exact same movement started this whole thing. Quickly, his hands fall back to his sides.

Patton chuckles. “It’s not as hard as you think, Ro-ro! You’ll do great. And I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” Roman sighs. “Hey, why don’t you—”

“Boys in the back,” the history teacher says, shooting a look at Roman and Patton, “it’s time for class. Pay attention please.” They both nod at turn away from each other and towards the board.

Roman doesn’t pay attention to a single word of the lecture. All he can think about is Virgil’s freckles and his eyes and his lips and his laugh, which Roman had only heard briefly while walking past him but loved nonetheless. How come I’ve never noticed that Virgil had freckles before? he wonders. Goddammit, is that boy just going to keep getting more and more amazing?

Roman chuckles to himself, thinking, Oh my god, I’m so gay. Deciding he should probably start listening to what the teacher is saying, he shoves any and all thoughts of Virgil from his mind and fills the gaps with information about the buildup to World War 1.

After class, Patton rushes up to him. He pulls Roman to the side of the hallway in a little nook where the row of lockers end.

“After school, you should come with me to this coffee shop,” Patton says, a little smile on his face. Roman knows that smile. He’s up to no good.

“Why?” His voice rises with suspicion at the end of the word.

“My lab partner, Logan Wise, you know him, said that we should meet up to work on our project after school.” A blush rises to Patton’s cheeks causing Roman to smirk as he figures it out.

“Someone’s got a cru-ush,” Roman teases, voice sing-songy and laughing.

“That’s not the point,” Patton says, blushing even harder.

“Fine.” Roman lowers his voice to a whisper. “But you can’t hide it from me. I’m the love whisperer, remember?” Throughout their years of high school, Roman had been responsible for setting up many couples. It’s gotten to a point where almost every day, he has someone walk up to him, asking him to help set them up with whoever their crush happens to be.

“Well, maybe I have a crush, but so do you. And you do know who Logan’s best friend is, right?” Patton responds, that same mischievous smile. Roman chuckles, looking around in a fond mix of exasperation and amusement.

“Virgil,” he finally says. Patton’s smile grows wider. “Look, I told you. I can’t talk to him. I’ll just make a fool of myself!”

“Fine,” Patton says. “Suit yourself.” He pats Roman on the shoulder and starts to walk away. Before he’s completely out of sight, he turns and yells, “Just think about it, okay?” Roman rolls his eyes at his friend’s shameless attempts to set him up and heads to choir.

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

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Roman shuts his locker with a bang. He joins the flood of people heading towards the front doors. He spills out of the school and heads towards his car. Once he’s only a few yards away, he unlocks the doors and dumps his things inside the passenger door. After waving to a few other kids on their way out that he knows, he gets into the driver’s side.

Alone, finally, Roman allows himself to drop the fake smile. Ugh, you goddamn idiot. How did you not notice him there? Now he hates you even more. Good going, Roman! Love whisperer, yeah right.

If only I could just talk to him…

Shoving his embarrassment and frustration aside, he starts the car and pulls out of the school, heading home. His route home winds its way through the downtown streets. Roman is so used to driving the same streets, he’s startled to notice something unordinary.

A few cars ahead of him is Patton’s silver car. What is he doing over here? Patton lives on the opposite side of downtown as Roman, and while the town is relatively small, it’s still strange. Roman is sure he’s never seen Patton drive this way home before.

Turning onto 4th Street, Roman watches Patton, now directly ahead of him, park in an open spot in front of one of the little shops lining the street. The sign above says “The Sanders Cafe” in swirly cursive lettering. A decal of a little cupcake sitting next to a cup of coffee accompanies it.

Oh, right, Roman remembers. Patton and Logan were meeting up to work on their chemistry thingy.

And Virgil is probably going to be there. No matter how much he tries to block the thought, it still shows up. Roman has tried to get Virgil out of his mind, but it never works. He always pops up when Roman least expects it. Frankly, Roman finds it quite frustrating.

Lost in thought, Roman turns one intersection too early. “I guess I’ll just go around the block,” he sighs. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to crashing when he got home. The detour would only cost about 5 minutes but still. Annoying.

Roman’s phone buzzes in the center console while he’s waiting to turn back onto 4th Street, the one with the cafe on it. One quick glance down at it tells Roman it’s from Patton. Checking the road to make sure he has the time, he looks back to read what it says.

“Patton…” he groans.

“I think you should come to the cafe with me. I’m waiting outside. Just give it a chance, kiddo!” reads the text message. However much Roman would like to deny it, he does want to go with Patton. On impulse, he finds a parking spot and pulls in. Patton is parked a few spots down, still sitting in his car. He hasn’t noticed Roman yet, and Roman’s glad for that.

“Come on, Roman,” he says, trying to give himself a pep talk. “Think about what a prince would do. He’d charge in there without a second thought. It wouldn’t matter what would happen because it would be in the name of love. You got this. What’s the worst that could happen, besides Virgil hating the sight of you so much he instantly fights you the second he sees you and you lose and have to go to the hospital and become the laughing stock of the school because while under anesthesia you admit your feelings for Virgil and now everyone knows and—”

A knock on the driver’s side window cuts Roman’s worrying off. When Roman looks up, he sees Patton’s grinning face. The other boy waves enthusiastically and gives him a thumbs up.

You got this. Be a prince, Roman. It’s in your name, after all. Taking a deep breath and clenching his fists in determination, Roman grabs his phone off the console and double checks to make sure he has his wallet.

Patton practically assaults him the moment he steps outside the car, talking in a rapid stream of words, but Roman can’t hear anything over the ever-increasing beating of his heart. They walk up to the front door, Patton ahead of Roman, still rambling about something from foods class.

The moment they walk in, the little silver bell dinging above them, Roman forgets all his worries because there Virgil is, sitting in a booth with another boy, — Logan, probably — his hair falling in front of his face, teeth gnawing on his lip in concentration and Oh god, that boy is beautiful.

And then Virgil looks up at them, and Roman swears he can feel his heart drop all the way to the ground.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years ago

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Can’t Say No (At Christmas)

CS one-shot set in the future. Hope is three and Emma and Killian are still very much in the throws of a happily ever after, but Killian wants to do something special for Emma for Christmas. With the help of their family and the town, he manages to fulfill a Christmas wish for his wife in exactly the kind of over-the-top fluffy and sweet way you’d expect from me. Includes holiday surprises, Christmas cheer, and a healthy dash of true love. Rated T. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I really did not know if I was going to be able to get this drabble done, but I am so happy to say that I did and to share it with you all tonight. I know that this Christmas is going to be so different for so many of us, and that it has been a hard year of uncertainty and stress. My gift to our little fandom is this story, focused on Emma and Killian a few years after we got to see them in the show. It’s inspired by the spirit of Christmas, the cheesiness that only Hallmark movies can provide, and the song ‘No Problem’ by Dylan Schneider. I love the idea that Killian cannot deny Emma anything, and that at Christmas he has to make Emma’s wishes come true. I hate to spoil any more of this, but I will just say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know how the hell you pulled this off, mate, but I got to hand it to you, this is really something special.”

The words David uttered from the bottom of the ladder were high praise, despite the dig at Killian’s favorite endearment. Tonight though, Killian would let the jab slide. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to argue with Emma’s father. Instead he hustled down the rungs and back to solid ground beside his friend. He took stock of the room once more, running his hand through his hair and tracing each corner of the barn with his gaze. There was very little about the place that was recognizable. It had been sufficiently transformed, from an old, dusty tomb of farm equipment, to a space fit for the evening ahead.

“It pays to be a good guy in the end,” Killian joked. Playing up the early days of their knowing each other when Killian was anything but a hero. “Turns out I’ve helped quite a lot of people these past few years. They were eager to return the favor.”

“That’s true enough, but I think the fact that you did this all for Emma plays a big part too.”

There was no doubt about that, and the mere reminder of his wife brought a smile to his lips. She was going to be surprised by this, and there was nothing that he loved more than surprising his Swan. Killian could hardly wait for the look of excitement that would spread across her face, and the light that would appear in her jade colored eyes. Her cheeks would flush from realization, and her hands would move unbiddenly, as if she couldn’t quite contain the excitement or suspense. Emma was always the most beautiful of women, and a miracle to be sure, but when treated to a gift that was truly worthy of her, she was transcendent, his own personal star and tempting taste of heaven.

“Any word from Snow?” Killian asked, checking his watch and seeing they had made good time, despite the hecticness of the day. He had enough time to catch a shower and prepare himself, but he needed to be sure that Emma and Hope were sufficiently occupied in the meantime.

“Better – she sent a video while you were hanging the last of the garland.”

David offered his phone and Killian laughed at the sight. Snow and Emma had taken Neal and Hope out of town to a nearby ski resort that was hosting all sorts of winter activities for kids. In the video Emma, Hope, and Neal were all making snow angels, until Neal gave the signal and he and Hope pivoted to throwing snowballs at Emma. The only problem was Hope was far too little and bundled up in snow gear to be effective. She was having the time of her life though, and at the end of the video, Emma scooped their daughter up and nuzzled her close, bestowing a kiss on her curly brown hair, which had escaped its winter cap. Hope was a dazzling blend of him and Emma, but her goodness and ability to inspire love was totally her mother’s doing.

“Perfect. You good here for the time being?” David nodded, pivoting from his assistant role to commander in chief with the quickness of one-time prince. Content that his tasks were in good hands, Killian headed out, eager to put the next parts of his plan in place.

Things moved quickly from there. He showered and readied himself for the kind of night his Emma had imagined, ignoring the strangeness of his reflection as he did. He would never feel quite right in these damn tuxedos, but Emma’s wish was specific and it included the blasted suit. It also included a number of gifts for Emma and for Hope, which he pulled from the one place in the house Emma never ventured to – the garage. From the back of the storage space there, he grabbed a number of boxes that he’d stuffed away last week, and brought them all inside. After checking the contents were free from any water or dirt, he was convinced things were as they should be, and he left the gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

The only thing left to craft was the note for Emma that would set her surprise in motion. He hadn’t dared to write it out before, wanting to save it for this moment. It felt right to speak from the heart and to put in words exactly how he felt tonight. Still, it took time to get the letter exactly right, and he must admit he grew a bit sentimental when crafting it. A time or two he fell into recent and more distant memories of their lives together, feeling the warmth in his soul that could only ever come from the truest love. Luckily, he had enough of his wits about him and time was on his side. Soon he heard the sound of a car pulling up the drive just as he closed the envelope with Emma’s name and placed it on the tree, and with the stealth accrued in his past life, he slipped out the back door just before his girls came in.

“Mama, look! Santa came early,” he heard Hope say as he quietly rounded the side of the house. For a moment he was truly tempted to steal a look and watch this scene play out, but he reminded himself that there was still more to be done, and instead headed down the street to where a not so patiently waiting Snow was parked.

“Killian, thank God! I thought you’d never get here!” she exclaimed as he opened the door, but before he could reply, young Neal let his own thoughts be known.

“Mom, it’s been like sixty seconds. Literally. Look, I timed it on the stopwatch Henry gave me. 63 seconds.

“No, has it only been a minute? I’m so excited I can’t tell. It feels like forever. I was waiting for this all day. It was so hard not to spill the beans.”

“But you didn’t, right?” Killian checked, pivoting to Neal for the truth. When the boy gave him a thumbs up, he let out a breath. “Good. But it all might be for not if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, right. We’ve got to go. We’ve got a Christmas miracle to deliver.” Neal groaned at the words and Killian remained quiet prompting Snow to ask the question, “Sorry, too cheesy?”

“For tonight? No, strangely it’s just right.”

And with that, they pulled away from the curb, headed back towards the barn and the long-awaited surprise.

……………….

“Mama, look! Santa came! Santa came!”

At first Emma didn’t understand the words from her daughter. She was just trying to get her bearings after peeling the snow clothes off of Hope and discarding her own jacket on the hook by the door. Her boots were barely off and her scarf was still wound around her neck. She couldn’t imagine how Hope still had so much energy, but then she remembered – three year olds were like comic book characters, with a super power of endless energy.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow, honey,” Emma said, righting her clothes and letting go of a big breath, before walking towards the living room. “Two more sleeps until Santa.”

“But look, Mama, pwesents!”

Emma followed her daughters pointing finger across the way, and low and behold there were gifts under the tree that had not been there this morning. Her curiosity was peaked, but when she saw the white envelope secured in the branches of their evergreen tree, she had an inkling of what was happening.

“Killian,” she murmured walking forward, and running her fingertips across the delicate paper.

“Daddy?” Hope asked excitedly, and Emma nodded as she opened the envelope, only to fight off tears of love when she read the letter.

My Dearest Emma,

There are no gifts that I could ever give you that compare to all you’ve given me. I know and accept that, but this time of year is different. It’s a season predicated on love, light, and yes, even a bit of magic. So I had to try, for your sake and for mine.

Christmas is about showing the people you love what they mean to you. It’s about giving love and feeling love, and knowing that even in the dark of a winter night, there is hope and light ahead. It’s about reminding loved ones that you care, that you’re rooting for them, and that their dreams are your dreams too. You taught me that, you and Hope and Henry, and I swear to you that all I could ever want is to make you happy, and to grant the wishes you carry in your heart.

“Ooo, pwetty,” Hope said, dragging Emma’s eyes down to where her daughter had already begun opening the parcels below. Inside the white garment box was a gorgeous crimson colored dress, breathtaking in its elegant design. The satin and the beading were exquisite, and the color was to die for, and like something from a dream. Hope offered the box to her, knowing even at age three that it wasn’t the right size for her. “For you, Mama.”

“Thank you, princess,” Emma said, taking the box in hand, wanting to look at it in full, but knowing the letter was still more important.

You are everything to me, Emma. Everything and so much more. You and our children hold my whole universe in your hands. Tonight, I hope to take your hand in mine, and remind you that in life, all you really need is the perfect partner.

“He didn’t,” Emma whispered, looking down from the letter which had been signed with love by her pirate. Then she looked at the other presents Hope was opening. A beautiful pair of heels, a white fur muff, and a necklace that sparkled, along with all the same things for Hope that were more their daughter’s style and perfect for her size. The last gift was another envelope, with a card. On the top in cursive script it read ‘Selected Suitors for Emma Jones’ and the only name was Killian’s. “Oh my god, he did. It’s a dance. He planned a Christmas dance for me.”

“Dance?” Hope asked and Emma crouched down to help her daughter really open her own garment box, where a beautiful princess-style dress was waiting for her. As soon as she saw it Hope let out a sound of pure delight, clapping her hands together at a hastened clip. At that moment, the front door opened, and Emma looked, expecting to see Killian but instead seeing her son, dressed up in a tuxedo and looking downright dashing. It would have been a shock either way, but this year, when she’d been bracing herself for her son being away for the holiday, it felt like an even greater gift.

“Henry?” she asked, as Hope bolted for her brother. Instinctively, Henry scooped her up, accepting all her hugs and kisses before turning his eyes back to Emma.

“Surprise! Well, part of it anyway. But we’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“Where are we going?” Hope asked. Henry responded by whispering in her ear, low enough that Emma couldn’t hear. Whatever he said made Hope gasp. “Really? We’re going there?”

“Sure are. But we have to get ready. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got Hope. You do what you need to do.”

Emma was spurred into motion, grabbing the gifts marked for her and heading upstairs. In thirty minutes, she and Hope were both ready for whatever awaited them, and though Emma had her suspicions, she was in no way prepared when they arrived at the old McDonald farm. Pulling around back to the barn, there were dozens of people milling around. Everyone in town was here tonight, dressed up and partaking in merriment, but when they left the car and walked inside, Emma was truly stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she said aloud, taking in the gorgeous decorations. The space was totally transformed, a perfect blend of rustic refinement. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the air was warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon and honey, and the joy here was palpable. There was a buzzing electricity that crackled in the air. This was what all those Christmas movies strove to recreate but could never quite capture, and Emma took it all in knowing that her husband had made this just for her.

Scanning the room for him, Emma was first greeted with the sight of her Mom and Dad and brother. They came forward immediately, hugging her and Hope and Henry and extending their thoughts.

“Oh, honey, you look spectacular!” her mother exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands and looking at her red dress. It was a truly wonderous design, that hugged every one of Emma’s curves just right while still feeling of the season. It was classic and timeless and more than a little sexy, but it was appropriate for the night, when everyone was dressed to the nines.

“So do you guys,” Emma said honestly, taking in her mom’s sapphire ball gown, and her Dad and brother’s tuxes.

“I’m a princess, Grandpa,” Hope said happily and Emma’s father immediately agreed as the band began to play a slower melody.

“There’s no denying that. Care to dance with me, Princess Hope?” He asked, bowing to her daughter. Hope giggled but took Emma’s hand instinctively, looking at her for permission and clarity.

“What about you, Mama?”

“Don’t worry, sprout,” Henry said nodding across the room and using his favorite nickname for his sister. “Dad’s got her taken care of.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Killian, as if this was a first date and not years into their marriage. She couldn’t help the butterflies swarming within her, and then, like magic the crowd of people parted, and there, across the room was her man. It should have come as no surprise how handsome he would look. Emma was well versed in how roguishly hot her pirate could be, but in a tux it was a whole other story. Maybe it was the rarity of seeing him like this, or maybe Killian was just one of those men who was born to wear a tux, but either way she was struck by him. Everything seemed to stop around her, and all she could sense was the man who completely owned her heart.

A few moments later they were together again. Emma hadn’t even realize she’d been walking towards him, and him to her, but when he took her hand she felt her blood hum in anticipation. She was caught in his eyes, sensing the mixture of love and desire that was so intoxicating, and waiting for him to speak, because words in this moment truly failed her.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he said to her, the gravel of his tone washing over her and sending a shiver down her spine in that delicious kind of way. “The fantasies I’d conjured in my mind’s eye could never do you justice.”

“So you were fantasizing about this, huh?” she asked, her voice thready as she turned, purposefully taunting him with a view of all her best angles. This time he let out a low growl that spiked her desire to tease him. God damn, there were people around! How could she be this hot and bothered? Oh right, she was married to a sinfully attractive and impossibly romantic man. This was par for the course.

“Aye, love, and I promise those musings will prove more than satisfactory when we get home.” His voice dipped low and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her own building need. Then something shifted in his eyes, and she knew before he said a word that something immensely thoughtful was about to be shared. “I hope it’s everything that you wanted, love. Those blasted ‘Hallmark towns’ have a lot more built-in Christmas cheer than Storybrooke, but all it took was a hint that this was what you wanted, and everyone came together.”

It dawned on her that the wish he was referring to was one that she’d made a few weekends ago when they were laying in bed watching TV. She usually skipped the Hallmark Christmas extravaganza, but this year she was feeling sentimental. Maybe it was the fact that Hope was finally hitting an age where she was starting to understand the season, or more likely it was the pregnancy hormones from their little one on the way. She was only twelve weeks along, and wasn’t even showing yet, but her self-coined pregnancy induced crazy brain was in full swing, and had been from the start. The only thing getting her through most days was Killian, and then he went and did something like this… it was too much for her, she couldn’t take it.

“I love you,” she confessed, blurting it out like it was some big secret instead of established fact. “Like a lot. A lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot,” Killian parroted with a grin, pulling her with him out to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She melded into his muscled physique, trying not to swoon as the melody carried them away.

“You know I’m not as good at the whole poetic declarations thing as you are.”

“Few can be, love,” he joked. She raised her brow at him in quiet consternation, and he only laughed before turning her into a low dip on the dance floor and reminding her that he was in total control of himself out here. “But where words might fail you, action is your strong suit. You show me every day how much you love me, Emma. And every day I thank my lucky stars to have that love.”

He made a fair point. Emma was, after all, a woman of action, and so she decided to take some now. Though they were dancing, she stalled their moment to pull him in for a kiss, giving them both a taste of what was to come when the night drew to a close. The sparks between them ignited instantly, and without looking, Emma knew some of her magic was radiating from within. When they pulled apart she was almost dizzy from the delight, but Killian was even more effected. He had that boyish grin of his in full display, and that tiny hint of bashfulness that came when he’d done something really well. Only when she heard the oohing and aahing of the people around them did she realize their magic had created stars along the ceiling of the barn, making it appear that they were all dancing under an inky black sky bursting with constellations.

From a distance, Emma heard her daughter ask if it was ‘magic time’ now, but before she and Killian needed to step in, Regina told her ‘Not tonight, kid,’ and Henry whisked her off for her another dance. This gave Emma and Killian time, time to enjoy the fruits of all he’d done, and to revel in this moment for as long as they could.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. You’ve made it so perfect, I never want it to end.”

“What is it they say in those movies, love? Oh right – every day is Christmas when we’re together.”

And even though it was horribly corny, and she should have rolled her eyes at such a lame joke, Emma found that she couldn’t. She was simply too happy and grateful to feign otherwise. Instead she savored every moment of their Christmas dance, and the night they shared thereafter, knowing this would be one of the best days she’d ever had, and that somehow, some way, her pirate would find other means of making the future just as bright.

……………………

Girl I got a no problem Yeah, it's a bad habit, the way I gotta have it With or without you around All ya gotta do is call me, and tell me that you're lonely You're always stringing me out Yeah, they say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, so here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Girl, I should know better, yeah, I should know never To let you in just to leave If it's just two letters, then why can't I ever Find a way to piece 'em together Let's say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, I'm admitting it, here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Yeah, you already know if you're asking me What the answer's always gonna be It's gonna be, yeah Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Can't say no to you Yeah, you already know if you're asking me Girl, I got a no problem That the answer's always gonna be 'Cause I can't say no to you Girl, I got a no problem 'Cause I can't say no to you

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed this little dose of holiday cuteness and none of this is offensive in any way or to any story line. Most of you know I never watched the last season of the show, so I don’t know what they say happened to Henry and everybody. I only knew Emma and Killian did eventually have a baby girl named Hope. Anyway, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and healthy holiday season. I am grateful for you all, from the ride or die readers who comment on every post, to the people passing by who just wanted a little bit of Christmas cheer. You are such a force for good in my world, whoever you are, and I thank you for your light and kindness in these trying time. I wish you all the best this Christmas and in the New Year, and more than anything I wish you love! Sending my best vibes your way now and always, xE.

The Captain Swan Mixtape oneshot series:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195

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2seokfan · 4 years ago

Text

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 1

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 3.6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a rollercoaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

note: Hi! This is my first fic ever! I don’t even know if anyone’s gonna read this but I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile so fuck it.

You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse on the couch.

“God my back hurts!”

Honestly with the amount of random bodily aches you experience on a daily business you could pass for being 70 years old. But this time you knew where the pain stemmed from. You just had to fall asleep awkwardly after a night on your phone. And of course today was a work day and you slept past all THREE of your alarms. But you know that feeling when you sleep for a suspiciously long amount of time and something doesn’t feel right? That’s the sixth sense that saved your ass this morning because your internal body clock was like sweetie I think you’re late.

You only had time to slap on some makeup, hoping it looked semi decent, and throw your greasy hair into a messy, but passable bun because no one wants to see an ugly receptionist. You had to skip your morning Starbucks drive-through routine because you’re about to be LATE, late so you grab your keys and start your car, booking it to work.

You work at a private hybrid clinic which pays a little better than most but that means you also have to deal with a lot of attitude from rich “owners” (you hate that word). And you sat weirdly at work today so that did nOThing to help your back pain. Also how come everybody decided to book an appointment today?? It’s Friday for god's sake why does everyone and their mothers decide it’s time to call the clinic and book a checkup. They get so mad at you when you say this whole month is filled. You can’t change the schedule though?? The calendar’s filled lady either get over it and settle for next month or fuck off (of course you don’t say that out loud cause you’ll get fired). Also someone yelled at you today because they didn’t like the magazine choices in the waiting room.

Anyways your day sucked and you couldn’t be happier being back in your tiny apartment to binge watch netflix stand-up comedies until you collapse. Well you say it’s your apartment but you actually have a roommate. She’s nothing like you though, she’s the epitome of responsibility. You agreed to live with her even though you met her through Craigslist because once you met her in person you deemed her genuine enough, and also found out she’s hardly ever at the apartment but she still pays rent on time?! You really hit the jackpot with her honestly. Cause you can be a little bit messy sometimes but even when she is home she never complains. The only negative side of having her as a roommate is that you never really had time to bond with her cause she’s so busy and over your league that even after a year you two still aren’t anything more than friendly acquaintances.

Alright time to get out of your work clothes and into nothing but your favorite oversized t-shirt with no pants on because that is what you deem home-appropriate attire. But before you turn on netflix your tummy is making “feed me” noises so it’s time to check the fridge. Damn no leftovers. Time to crack open one of those Trader Joe’s frozen meals you have stacked in the freezer. You blindly pick a box. Guess you’re having vegan tikka masala tonight. Not gonna lie though those frozen meals are actually not half bad. Or maybe you’ve been away from good home cooking for so long you’ve become desensitized? Who cares, you’re hungry. Also it’s Friday, so no harm in cracking open a bottle of wine right?

When you’re all settled on the couch with your favorite plush blanket on your legs, a random comedian on tv, and a full tummy, your mind drifts away. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have the weekends off. Maybe you should do something fun for yourself to make up for the crap you had to deal with today. You text your best friend Karli. You know she’s awake since it’s only 10pm.

You: Hey girl wanna go to the beach or smth tmrw?? <3

Karli: Yaaas ok I don’t work!! What time?

You: and we can walk around all the fancy stores and get coffee from that place we love.

You: hmmm how bout meet there @11??

Karli: Sounds good sweetie want me to pick you up?

You: no its ok ill meet u there i need to buy groceries after

Karli: Kk love ya see you then!!!

You: love ya! night bby

Karli knows that when you say “go to the beach” you really mean walk along the beach and the nearby stores because it’s early June and prime tourist season. That means the sand is packed with people and their kids and the water’s probably filled with pee so you’re not really down for that. Also the expensive shops near the beach are so cute and you love walking around window shopping, pretending like you can actually afford any of the items on display.

The wine is now getting to you cause before you know it you find your eyelids getting heavy. You muster up your last ounce of strength to turn off the tv and force yourself out of the couch cause your poor back doesn’t need another excuse to keep hurting. As much as you don’t want to wash your face and brush your teeth, you have to because you don’t want makeup on your pillowcase tonight. And when you finally crawl into bed you knock out instantly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Oh fuck…”

You forgot that drunk you last night set an alarm today for 9am. Thank you drunk Y/N.

Why 9am? Because you need to shower and get ready, plus the beach you’re going to is near the north part of the city, which is also the expensive part of the city, meaning it’s a LONG ways from where you live. But the stores are aesthetically pleasing and it contains both you and Karli’s favorite coffee shop so you’re willing to make the 25 minute drive. Karli doesn’t have to worry though because she lives a lot closer than you do. Girl has got her shit together. Honestly you’re just glad she decided to move back after graduate school cause the long distance friend thing sucks balls.

You hop in the shower and rinse yourself awake. The weather is perfect, warm but not too hot. Unlike many people who prefer to dress up for a nice outing, you’re just the opposite. You’ve been forced to dress in nice business attire with a full face of makeup all week. Hell no are you dressing up on your days off too. It’s a sweatpants and tank top kinda day so that’s exactly what you wear. Ever since college you’ve spoiled yourself into only wearing comfy clothes whenever you have the chance and it’s become a minor problem in your life. You have some perfectly nice jeans in the closet but you haven’t worn them in forever. And you’re not gonna wear them today either. And makeup? Who needs makeup? You’ll just go barefaced since you have no one to impress. Actually just kidding maybe a little concealer just to cover up a few rough spots but that’s IT. You’re still a little self conscious and you know you have to work on that but not today.

It’s now 10:15. You grab your purse from the couch, slip on your favorite pair of slides and head to your car. You’re the kind of person who absolutely needs music when you drive so you quickly start blasting your favorite playlist. Before you know it, you’re pulling up to the beach area. Parking is hard to find on the weekend but your lucky ass managed to squeeze into a street parking spot right as someone pulls out. You lock your car and make the trek to Cozy Coffeehouse, your favorite coffee shop hands down.

Karli is already here and she’s hopping up and down, waving at you. She looks super cute today in her little black dress and fishnets. She’s had the same taste since high school and you’re glad that even a Master’s degree hasn’t stopped her from dressing all punk on her days off. You jog over and give her a quick hug.

“Hey girl look at you!! You’re so cute!” You take in her makeup and you swear if she didn’t go the corporate route she definitely should have been a makeup artist. Her eyeshadow is amazing and you’ll never ever have the blending talent that she has, nor could you ever get your eyeliner to look that sharp.

“Aw thanks! You look comfy though I’m kinda jealous now maybe I should’ve dressed down.”

“No I love your outfits! Besides, someone has to look nice in this relationship.”

You link arms and march into the cafe. It’s located near the fancy designer stores on a large hill overlooking the beach. When you step inside the whole atmosphere screams ‘cozy’, fitting its name perfectly. The interior is littered with mismatched sofas and armchairs but it somehow still looks aesthetically pleasing. Soft piano jazz is playing through speakers and when you step inside the delicious scent of freshly ground coffee beans immediately invades your nostrils.

You glance at their pastry display first. Today must be your lucky day because they have tiramisu and you absolutely love tiramisu but it’s usually sold out. No way in hell are you letting this chance slide, fuck breakfast norms you’re definitely getting a bite of that. Unfortunately you’re not a fan of sugary treats on top of sugary drinks so to balance things out you choose to order their house brew.

After you two order, you find a spot in one of the plush armchairs near the window and sit. You really are lucky today since window seats are usually taken. But not this time! You guys get to enjoy the gorgeous scenery displayed before you. The sun is bright, people are laying on the beach tanning, and kids are splashing each other with water. For the first time in awhile, you feel content with life, if only for a bit.

Before long your orders are called out and you stand up to retrieve them. Once you’re settled, you break into conversation with Karli, eager to catch up on everything that happened since you two last spoke face-to-face. You talk about work, Karli’s boyfriend Sunny, that new pizza place that opened up near your apartment that actually has really shitty pizza.

“Like seriously how do you fuck up pizza that badly?” you exclaim in between generous bites of tiramisu.

“No I get you,” Karli responds, slurping her iced mocha frappuchino, “everybody knows what pizza is supposed to taste like, I mean it’s gotta take talent to actually fuck it up to the level you’re describing girl.”

“Exactly!!” You wave your arms in the air, wanting to physically demonstrate your frustration at the situation and your passion for good pizza.

“Anyways…” Karli gently sets her drink down and takes on a more serious tone. “How are you though, honestly.”

“Hmm, me?” You swallow your last bite of tiramisu, “I’m doing good. Works ok, life’s ok. You know. Everything’s… ok.”

“I get that everything’s ‘ok’ but you know I want you to be more than ok. I want you to be happy”

You see the genuine concern in her eyes. Bless this girl for being so soft-hearted.

She continues, “And when was the last time you dated? Like, what, 2 years ago??”

Of course she has to mention dating. Karli has always been a romantic. You? Not so much. Your brain tended to err on the logical, practical side, which is not always a good idea since it keeps you away from many potential relationships.

“I date!” You scoff, but you’re not convincing anybody, least of all yourself.

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen in mock surprise, “Tinder one night stands don’t count babe. You know what I mean.”

“Well you didn’t specify…” You mumble, trying to come up with any excuse to defend your pride. You know she’s just being a good friend and that she’s asking because she cares about you, so you don’t let her questions irritate you.

“Sweetie I’m not trying to make you feel bad and I’m sorry if it comes across that way. It’s just… you mean a lot to me and you’re my bestie and I just want to see you be happy.” She takes your hand from across the table and looks you in the eyes. “We don’t get to see each other as much as we used to, so when I do I want to check in on how you’re doing.”

Then she averts her eyes, which you find highly suspicious. “Also I may or may not have found someone who I KNOW will be a perfect match for you.”

“AHA I KNEW you were leading up to something!”

“Wait but hear me out. He’s an accountant and at first I was like hmmm is he too boring for Y/N? But then I realized I was judging him by his job and that’s not cool so I talked to him and he’s, like, actually super cute and super sweet and I think you two will get along so well!” She’s speaking very fast at this point, trying to squeeze out as much information as possible before you can interject. Then she finishes with one of her signature Karli smiles, big and wide and all teeth and she knows you can’t say no to that face.

“Dammit. Fine.” You lost this round. “Alright if he wants to meet up I won’t say no. How bout that?”

“Gee that’s so thoughtful of you Y/N.” Her tone is sarcastic but she’s still smiling so you know she means no harm.

After another half hour of conversation, locked in a heated debate about food again (this time she’s defending her stance that pineapple belongs on pizza), Karli’s phone rings. The sound scares the poor girl half to death, and watching her jump a mile from her couch had you snorting into your coffee mid drink.

She looks at the caller ID, muttering under her breath, “It’s Saturday what do they want?” then glances up with a sad little pout, “Sorry Y/N it’s work gimme a sec…”

From what you can hear on her side of the conversation, something has come up and she has to head to the office right away.

“Ok I’ll be there in fifteen,” she hangs up and gives an exaggerated “Ughhhhh”. She takes one large gulp, finishing the last of her ultra sweet, ultra whipped frappuccino. “It’s like they can’t do anything when I’m not there.” She looks especially apologetic when her eyes land back on you, “I’m so sorry I have to cut this short…”

“Hey it’s ok! Duty calls ya know,” you give her a reassuring grin, hoping it passes for a smile instead of a grimace. You were really hoping to hang out today.

“No it’s not ok. We didn’t even get to walk around today! And I know how much you like to do that.” She stands up, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “so next time I’ll plan a day where I guarantee I won’t get interrupted. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mk sounds good babe,” you give her a big hug, “Go get ‘em tiger!”

After she exits the cafe you finish the last bit of your coffee and glance out the window, staring at the people on the beach. Wow it’s really crowded down there today. You zone in on two kids attempting to build a sandcastle, but it’s too close to the water so the waves flatten it in two seconds. But it seems they didn’t learn their lesson because they keep rebuilding the castle in the same spot. Just move it further up little dudes.

You find yourself lost in thought again. Just because Karli’s suddenly busy doesn’t mean you don’t still have a whole day to yourself. You can walk around on your own. Also why not treat yourself to another drink? A fun one this time from their specials menu.

Ten minutes later you find yourself wandering around the various shops, hot hazelnut latte in hand, gazing at display after display of designer clothes and bags. Look, you may not be a huge fashion person, or have any expendable cash, but a girl can still appreciate art, especially when it’s laid out so nicely in front of you.

Speaking of art, there’s an art gallery coming up that you absolutely love. You’ve always been too afraid to go inside because you’re the type of person who feels obligated to buy something if you enter a local store and you DEFinitely can’t afford anything there. So you opt to loiter outside, like some creep, looking a little too long at the featured art through the window. This time it’s an Impressionist style painting of a ship on hazy waters with a sunset in the background. You’re no artist but you can appreciate good quality work when you see it. The piece is mesmerizing and serene, transfixing you to the spot. Before you know it, you’ve been staring for 15 whole minutes.

While admiring the artist’s use of color on the display piece, you overhear a lady raising her voice not too far away, snapping you out of your trance. It sounds like drama, so being the nosy bitch that you are, you’re definitely gonna check it out, if only to satisfy your curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘no’?! You’ll be perfect for each other!! Where’s your owner I bet he’ll listen!” At this point the lady’s voice is sounding downright aggressive.

As you shuffle closer to the scene of the noise, you spot a middle-aged, blonde lady pointing her finger at two hybrid men, almost jabbing one of them in the chest with her sharp, ruby nails. Behind her stands a gorgeous female arctic fox hybrid who clearly belongs to her as she pats her owner’s shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“I’m sorry miss but we just aren’t interested.” The taller of the two hybrids with orange hair speaks up, gently pushing the lady’s hands away. “Please leave us alone.” He’s being surprisingly calm, even after getting yelled at in public.

“Yeah lady get out of our faces,” the other white and grey haired hybrid is definitely more agitated, crossing his arms as he huffs in annoyance. You don’t blame him since the blonde lady is being ridiculously rude.

You can’t really make out the two males’ faces, since they’re turned away from you, but they are obviously hybrids. Both having incredibly bushy, soft-looking tails and tall, pointy ears sticking out of their heads.

Even if you can’t see their expressions, you can tell they’re uncomfortable with the harassment. Since you’re still somewhat unaware of the context, you stay out of the argument but decide to keep an eye on the situation in case the lady steps out of line. You’re just slightly around the corner, able to stay a safe distance away so that no one, especially the lady, can catch you eavesdropping. Pretending to admire the Gucci purses displayed in front of the shop you’re now standing at, and almost choking at the price, you cautiously side-eye blondie as she refuses to back down from the hybrid boys.

“Listen here you rude little pets, I’m not leaving you alone until I see your owner. My Sylvia here,” she gestures to the fox hybrid behind her, “would make a perfect partner for you.” She pokes the orange haired hybrid again, “I’ve been searching so long for her to find a mate and I’m not giving you up! Now where the hell is your owner!”

What the fuck?! How dare this lady talk to them like that? And in public no less! You now know exactly why she’s yelling at them. Working at a private hybrid clinic has opened your eyes to the harsh world of hybrids, and their selfish, rich owners. It’s not uncommon for owners to negotiate with each other and breed their hybrids. If two pretty hybrids mate, their children can be sold for loads of money. It's cruel and disgusting, with many of the children sold off before they can even get to know their parents. You’re all too familiar with this tradition, often catching owners in the waiting room of your clinic discussing in whispers about buying and selling hybrid children as if they’re livestock.

“Hey what the fuck did you call us?!” The white and grey hybrid is now also raising his voice. “Listen you wrinkly bi…!” He is quickly silenced by the orange hybrid, who abruptly clamps his hand over his buddy’s mouth.

Orange hair clears his throat. “What he means is, we don’t appreciate the tone you’re using with us. Please leave us alone ma’am. We’ll be on our way. Goodbye.” They attempt to brush past her.

“Hey hold on a minute! I’m not done with you!!” This lady even has the balls to grab onto orange hair’s arm. “I demand to speak to your owner!” Then some sort of realization dawns upon her because her eyes go wide, then quickly narrow. “And where are your collars? Aren’t owned hybrids supposed to have collars on? You know I just might have to call Hybrid Services.”

You can see the boys visibly tense at her words as she sports a satisfied smirk. Poor Sylvia is now gently tugging on her shirt. “Please calm down, miss…” she says desperately trying to remedy the situation.

Before you know it, and without any plan of action, you round the corner and march up to the boys, standing defensively in front of them.

“Um…” You gulp, then clear your throat, speaking in what you hope is a more confident tone. “Sorry I took so long guys! You wouldn’t believe the line at the coffee shop!”

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

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theshipsfirstmate · 4 years ago

Text

Agents of SHIELD Fic: All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had

post-SHIELD 7x06 and also post-Agent Carter season 2. peggysous -> daisysous.

doing my best to tie up the loose ends that get Daniel from Peggy to Daisy, because I, like many others, could not have imagined shipping him with anyone else and then the last few eps of SHIELD have taken a sledgehammer to my feelings. so, just like this ship, idk where this came from, but here it is.

Title from “Something in Common” by Dawes.

All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had (AO3 - wc: 3218)

After Peggy went back to New York, Daniel told himself to take it easy.

And he tried, he really did. He even said it in his head, sometimes, the way Jack had: “Take it easy, Danny boy.” The wise-cracking agent had never stopped teasing him, even after they had become something resembling friends. But he was gone now too, left behind in a past that didn’t feel as distant as it should.

They’d had all of one day together, he and Peg, before everything went to hell. She had kissed him -- in his office, of all places -- and he had reveled in it for a few blissful moments before sending her away with a matching grin on her face, so he could pick her up later that evening for a proper date.

He’d planned on Musso and Frank -- had been carrying around the image in his mind for longer than he’d admit to anyone -- but after he picked her up and saw that mischievous flash in her eyes, he’d called an audible, turning the car south on Western, guessing she’d be up for something a little more adventurous. He was right, she was taken with El Coyote from the moment they walked in, wide-eyed and grinning at everything from the margarita glasses to the friendly waitress who’d winked and called him “Blanquito.”

Looking back at it now, he’s almost glad he doesn’t remember too many more of the details. He doesn’t remember what they ordered or exactly how long they’d sat and talked in that booth. He just remembers the warmth of her eyes, her hand in his across the table, the way she seemed more relaxed than he’d ever known her to be. Those were the things to hold onto.

He’d dropped her off with a gentlemanly kiss at her front door -- and a less-than-gentlemanly follow-up when she’d tried to convince him to come in for coffee. His only regret now was not taking her up on the offer. Not so much for the obvious reason, just to give them a few more easy hours before it all came crashing down.

Because when Daniel returned to his own front door that night, there was a patrolman — one of the new guys, whose name he had to read off his badge in the dim porch light — sitting on the stoop, waiting for him.

“Thompson’s gone,” the kid said. “Never made it on the plane. Signs of a struggle in his room. And a lot of blood.”

The next week was non-stop, chaos and panic and a wild goose chase that had led them everywhere but to Jack. A sinister cloud hung over the entire office, and the spectral whispers of the one name no one wanted to speak aloud echoed in the desperate silences. He and Peggy barely had a chance to look at each other, let alone talk about anything but the latest scraps of evidence, and when it was all over, well, there was no relief there, either.

He’s never gotten used to funerals, and having a hand to hold this time didn’t make it that much easier, not with the weight of failure pressing down on them both.

Thompson had fought hard, that much was clear when they’d finally found him. But it wasn’t enough. That was Daniel’s biggest fear every time he thought about the facts they had been able to gather, every time the unspeakable name echoed in the confines of his restless brain. Cut off one head, and two more take its place -- would they ever be enough to fight it? Would it ever be easier?

__________________

“You know it truly is nothing to do with you, don’t you?” Peggy had asked him, eyes turned down to the table between them, to the cups of coffee untouched and growing cold. This time, Daniel didn’t reach out for her hand. He listened to the buzz of the planes taking off at the Lockheed Air Terminal down the road, and wished it were enough to drown out the whole day entirely.

“Peg, you don’t have to do that,” he’d muttered, feeling childish. “Spare me the pity, I-”

“Daniel,” she’d interrupted, in that tone that left no room for questions. “I’ve never pitied you, and I certainly don’t intend to start now.”

He stared back, silent. That was the problem, you see, with the goodness of a heart like hers. There was no artifice, no way to crack back in a moment like this one. As miserable as it was, he was going to have to sit here and take it.

“Please,” she’d continued, softer, still barely looking at him. “I want to say it. I need you to know.”

He’d huffed out a breath through his nose and aimlessly fiddled with the tiny pitcher of milk. “OK.”

“I want to say…” she had started, stopped and gathered herself, then started again. “I want to tell you that you deserve so much more than what I can give you.”

He’d hated hearing the cliche, even as he weighed its truth. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he deserved, but hadn’t he known it would be this way from the start? Hadn’t a part of him always worried that there wouldn’t be room in her heart for the kind of life he wanted to share?

“It’s not for the reason you think,” she’d insisted, before he could come up with something to say in response. “I promised myself….When Steve died, I promised myself I would keep up the fight.”

She hardly ever said his name aloud. It didn’t ruffle Daniel as much as he expected, but it did make him speak up.

“I’m in it with you, Peg. I hope at least you know that.”

She’d nodded, and then she’d finally looked up -- and he immediately wished to God she hadn’t. Because there, behind the sheen of barely-restrained tears, was their ending.

“All we can do is our best,” she told him, not for the first time. “And I think we both know this fight is going to take the best we have.”

He nodded and swallowed against the lump in his throat he was starting to worry might be permanent.

“But this... It’s too much for me, Daniel. I can’t lose you too.”

A bitter part of his brain pointed out that it was ironic, to say that as she walked away. But he tamped that down, and told her the only truth he could find that felt like it wouldn’t make things worse.

“I’ll miss you, Peg.”

She had reached out then, squeezed his hand fast and tight, telling him the same before swiping beneath her eyes. And then, she was gone.

Easy.

__________________

Daniel had tried, he really had. In his brief moments of free time as they watched the Hydra trail dry up hopelessly once again, he went on a handful of absolutely mediocre dates with the sunny blonde who worked the front desk at the local library and the brunette waitress who left her number on his receipt at the diner. He even let the guys at the office set him up once with a busty redhead who was so forward he spent the next week trying to suss out whether or not they’d paid her.

But there wasn’t anything there. There wasn’t anything anywhere, it seemed. With every interested woman he met -- and there were a few, he didn’t mind saying -- it was the same as it had been with Violet. Perfectly fine, perfectly nice, perfectly room temperature. In another lifetime, maybe he could have convinced himself that’s what it was supposed to feel like. But not now.

And then one day, he walked into his office on a top-secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base, and met a girl from the future.

There was something about her, right from the beginning. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, and he saw something familiar in the mischievous glint in her eye — he’d been able to clock her CIA lie on its face, though it was just one part of a larger, much more confusing puzzle.

At first, he thought his reaction to her was just part of the chaos -- excess adrenaline at the prospect of seeing Peggy unexpectedly and the frantic and unexplainable events that followed. But then it didn’t go away.

She kept surprising him, that was familiar too. Comforting, almost, in a bizarre, backwards kind of way. She saved his life on the train — he’s always had extra respect for a woman who could throw a good punch. And he hadn’t missed the shadow that crossed her face when he mentioned all the things that Hydra had taken from him. There was even more to uncover, he was sure of it. Even finally learning her first name, Daisy, had him furrowing his brow at the dichotomy.

But there was hardly time to dwell on it. He’d expected to drive out of that futuristic aircraft and never see her, or any of her compatriots, ever again. He’d deliver his package to Stark, go home to an empty house, and wake up tomorrow to throw himself back into the work.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the familiar eagle on the wall, and Agent Coulson was telling him he was dead. Like it was that easy.

__________________

He tried to throw himself into the fight immediately — he’s always been aware of the liability of dead weight and there wasn’t any time to stumble around and gather his bearings if he was going to be useful in the team’s mission to stop the Chronicoms.

Still, he would catch Daisy watching him, warily, like a timer on a bomb. She teased him in the clothing store, elbowing him playfully when he stopped dead at the “modern” 1970s fashions, but when he met her eyes, there was something more insistent looking back at him. It was like she was asking him a question neither of them could put into words, sizing up whether or not he was going to run, or stay, or fit, or break, or...something.

He tried his best to not to give her more to worry about. So he wouldn’t be the one to extract Hydra from S.H.I.E.L.D. in the ‘50s -- as it turned out, there were plenty of other ways to save the world. That was the core of the mission he’d signed up for from the start, and he felt more at ease the more he realized this was a team devoted to the same cause.

But he wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that made him step up behind her in that underground bar and call her “sweetheart” -- maybe the same misguided sense of chivalry that got him a dressing down after he made Krzeminski apologize to Peggy in the briefing room back in New York. Mercifully, Daisy had gone along with his ruse, surprising him again with a palm pressed to his chest and a conspiratorial grin in his direction.

And he hoped it was duty again, not the memory of that smile, that made him insist on accompanying her to hack into the base. After a confrontation with the scruffy kid with the dark circles under his eyes, he was more aware than ever that this team was just barely more adjusted to their circumstances than he was. But that still didn’t quite explain his growing desire to stay at Daisy’s side.

What he was really looking for, if he’s honest, was a bit of solid ground. What he was wondering was if the feeling in his chest would turn out to be fleeting, if the quaking he’d felt when she touched him was because of her powers — or if it was something else entirely.

Because it seemed like something he never felt with Violet or the librarian or any of the rest. It seemed like it might be something he’s only felt once before. And it’s just his luck that it comes wrapped up in even more danger.

He tagged along just the same, watching her back and trying to learn on his feet about all the things she could do in addition to making the earth shake. She could break into a computer network he can’t even begin to comprehend, she could snap a crystal clear picture of him on that thin screen she said was a telephone, she could quirk an eyebrow at him and make him forget, just for a moment, that his life had descended once again into supernatural chaos.

“You look OK for a guy who just aged 20 years.” She teased him a second time as he marveled at the photo, and his stomach flipped all the way over to melancholy. But he wasn’t totally honest about why.

His heart ached at the thought of Peggy getting the news of his “death,” but the biggest goodbye of all, Daniel had realized, was to the man he used to be. However lonely and lukewarm he thought his life had been, he hadn’t been prepared to lose it so suddenly. There was possibility there, and promise to mourn, and the uncertainty about what lay ahead now had given him a rose-colored rearview mirror to look back at all he had left behind.

But when he told Daisy that this might be his last stop, she had simply turned back to her computer, assuring him their current dilemma was just a minor setback -- “Without us, it’s way worse,” she said.

She said it like she’d already accepted him as part of the team, like another thing she knew that he didn’t was that he hadn’t lost himself to the ether of time travel. She said it like he belonged.

It made the decision seem easy enough.

__________________

When the Malick kid’s goons bring her back, when he sees her limp and bloodied, slumped on the floor beside him, he has another flash to his past -- Peggy lying prone, impaled on a mean-looking length of rebar. He had learned that night how strong she really was. Not just because she had survived, but because she had let him see her at her weakest and most terrified, had let him haul her into his arms and onto his couch and into focus for his fiancee, who he knew would be able to see right through it all.

He had blown up his entire life just for the weak, grateful smile they shared when they realized she was going to be OK. And it had been worth it.

Daisy doesn’t seem the type to let someone stroke her hair either, but Daniel tries to stop himself from drawing any more parallels right then and there. He keeps checking her pulse point like an excuse, and hopes it’s a fair trade-off that he agrees to tell her the story of his rescue.

He doesn’t like to think about Stevens much, about the way he’s carried the potential of that pesky man's life with him every day since he woke up on that stretcher. That’s what you do when someone dies for you. You have to live for them.

That makes him think of Peggy again -- and then, unbidden, of Steve Rogers. He remembers the stories they used to tell about what Captain America was like before the serum: skinny, frail, half a dozen 4F rejections under various pseudonyms. He thinks of that kid, plucked from the life he was supposed to live and thrust onto a pedestal that must have felt completely untenable at times -- given muscle and then immediately handed the weight of the world.

And now there’s Daisy, with these powers. The kind of strength good men would covet and evil men would kill for. And like him, she’s left behind whatever life she had in order to fight her way through space and time and try to save humanity.

Peggy was a woman who ran headfirst into a storm without giving so much as a thought to an umbrella. Daisy, he’s learning, is the storm itself.

So he talks to her, and he keeps talking. He tells her things he’s never told another living person. In fairness, he thinks, he’s technically known her almost 20 years.

He tells her about survival, certain she already knows. He tells her about warfare, a different type than she’s seen, but with a common enemy. He tells her to fight -- and when she shows him the shard of glass she’s snuck back to him in a bloody palm, he knows the way his heart thuds could be just as dangerous as the psychopath in the other room.

Daniel’s always been good at waiting for his moment, and mercifully, it comes not long after Daisy slips completely into unconsciousness. He shifts away from her on the dirty floor to avoid risking further injury, and he readies himself like he had in the trenches.

When the time comes, he fights, just like he knows Stevens must have fought to get him to safety. They catch a lucky break when the earth-rattling powers prove to be too much for Malick to handle, and he carries her back to the ship, leg aching all the way, remembering the stern nurse in the field hospital who had looked down her glasses at him every time he’d complained about the throbbing.

“It’s the beat of your heart, soldier, remember that,” she had snipped as she doled out his meds. “If nothing else, it means you’re still alive.”

The team meets him at the door to help Daisy into their med bay, and when Agent Simmons mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “Not again,” something else twists inside Daniel’s chest. Shrugging off his own first aid until she’s been attended to, he takes a seat by the door to stay present but out of the way. Maybe some small part of him hopes that when she wakes, he’ll be a familiar face.

If he’s honest, he’s never thought about living to see the end of the 20th century, never even considered it. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. director with war injuries and more than his fair share of close calls, it would have taken nothing short of a miracle. But he doesn’t think twice when the scruffy kid -- Deke, he remembers this time -- tells them they’re about to jump again. He's not sure when he changed his mind, but it’s been changed, nonetheless.

“I’m where I need to be,” he says, as the soft beeps of Daisy’s monitor assure him that if nothing else, she’s still alive.

Easy never felt quite right, anyway.

#first mate fic #daisysous #sousy #daisy x daniel #agents of shield #agent carter #daniel sousa #daisy johnson #peggy carter

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