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sunflowerstache · 4 years

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Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista’s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.” you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another. “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you’d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you

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blindbeta · 3 years

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How do you think infrastructure would be different in a culture where everyone is blind?

Hi anon! I like this question. I think it would obviously depend on the culture and time period, but I have a few ideas. I’ll just try to write ideas for a general Western culture, because I am aware of more of that, but obviously the culture itself would influence what changes occurred or did not occur.

Education.

Look to blind schools! I’m thinking about training for Braille as very small children, which mostly includes strengthening finger sensitivity. Braille would also be taught the way reading regular print is, either in schools or at home. Regular print would probably also be available and large print would be normalized, especially to minimize eye strain. Computer literacy would include screen-readers and Braille displays. Websites would be designed for accessibility for everyone and this would include large for those who like to read some print.

In classes, people would use a slate and stylus, Braille notetakers, etc, depending on time and what was easier to carry. Braillers would also be more high tech in general, even if it might be considered old school, or the high tech stuff would have come sooner for each device.

Braille, O&M, and life skills classes would be normal for everyone. O&M would probably be done mostly by people with some sight, although this might change if everyone is blind anyway.

Lifestyle.

Things like telescopes (monoculars, minifiers) would be normal for low vision people, maybe even something cool like ‘oh I got the latest telescope model for my birthday!” It would be something shared with friends for fun. Something like SunuBand would be like, I don’t know, a car of something. People would show status through how cool their cane was, if they had a Sonar cane, like WeWalk, etc.

In schools, and in life, I think people with some sight, like me, would not face any pressure to use it. In real life, people with residual sight are expected to use what sight they can, even if it is inconvenient or painful.

More emphasis would be places on other sense, such as touch, smell, and soatial awareness.

Safety.

The world would probably be safer, structurally. There would be high contrast stairs everywhere, if there are stairs at all. There would be more in place that makes it safer to walk around outside, such as, idk, less of a risk of hurt yourself by stepping off a curb? I’m not even sure if roads would be designed the way they are now. Would people drive if they have some vision? Would everyone have cars that don’t need vision? Anyway, more safety with blind people in mind.

Transportation.

Transportation would be better. Maybe public transportation would be more accessible, easier to navigate, and more readily available in rural areas. Maybe trains would be more popular in every country, because they run on a schedule and you can carry more people for longer periods of time. Trains can also allow people to travel long distances, which can be harder for blind people (who almost always can’t drive, as far as I know) who can’t drive cars and may not have money for flights, or want to avoid them for environmental reasons.

Accessibility.

Braille would be everywhere. Buttons would be tactile, especially on kitchen appliances. I imagine a lot of the tools blind people use in the kitchen, such as bump dots for microwave buttons, would already be standard. Talking or otherwise accessible things would be cheaper, more common, and considered staples for everyone. Because they would be made for the wider population of blind people, accessibility would not be a niche or extra thing. It would not be associated with kindness, but a standard fare.

Clothing would be different. Designs would be tactile and/or high contrast, where they are often flat. I think colors would still be important, for everyone, but the tags would probably have labels. Some brand designed for blind people have actual Braille fabric on the clothes, which is cool. While color scanners do exist and would probably be used, I think other methods would be utilized if clothing is designed with blind people in mind from the start. Wearing glasses would be cool, you guys.

In terms of entertainment, I think most of it would audio-based or interactive. The radio and live theatre would be more popular than they are now. If visual mediums still existed, they would all come with audio descriptions and they would be better than they sometimes are now. TV would be written with audio descriptions in mind, if they didn’t talk about more of what they were doing.

Art would be tactile, period. Maybe we would have something by now that allows you to feel digital art. There are already amazing forms of tactil art out there, so think more of that from all cultures. Rather than adapted or described with the blind in mind, art would be naturally tactile even if the artist could see what they were creating well enough.

Online.

Obviously image descriptions would be everywhere, although I feel people would naturally include less screen-shots and less pictures. Again, accessibility would be a more mainstream thing than it is now. I’m thinking there would be more self-care posts, such as about dealing with eye strain headaches. Although I think some of the issues we have would be lessened when the entirety of humanity was on the blind spectrum. I’m also thinking about fun quizzes like, Describe Your Dream Home and I’ll Guess What Type Blindness You Have. Debates about disability in general would happen in regular spaces. YouTube would have contained audio descriptions from the start, and perhaps highly visual content would be less common or naturally described in the video, such as person describing what they are holding before talking about it.

Work/Career.

Productivity would be measure differently. Accessibility would just be a thing. Like, at a meeting, “What tools do you like to use the most?” Working from home would be an option. Work would be open to and even designed for blind people. Blind people wouldn’t have the low employments rates they do now, or else no one would work. A lot of tools we use to make things accessible wouldn’t be necessary if things were designed for blind people in the first place. Subminimum wage would not be a thing.

There would probably be jobs and career opportunities that don’t exist now.

Blind people wouldn’t be more likely or even expected to live in poverty.

Money.

Money would be tactile, labeled, large print, and high contrast. If we still used cash at all.

Inovation.

I think we would have a lot of cool stuff. Countries might even compete to be the first to create things for the blind population which, again, would be everyone in this scenario.

Food/menus.

Restaurants would be easy for blind people to navigate. Menus would be offered in Braille and large print. Maybe plates would be made sectioned so people could know where their food was. I’m thinking about blind accessibility videos and restaurants run by totally blind people. Hmm. Glasses would not be as common at all, because they can be hard for people to see. I have broken too many glasses myself.

If people were to buy food, such as local produce, bags would probably come with homemade Braille or large print signs. Canned food and boxes for cooking would have Braille on them initially. Giving food to others, such as bringing food or snacks for the home when you visit, would come with either an explanation about what it was or a label.

I could go on. I don’t want this too be too long. Basically, what I want to get across is that a lot more than accessibility would changes if everyone is blind. I didn’t want to get into too many heavy topics because this is more of a fun question. However. feel free to add whatever you like. I believe history itself would be altered in many, many ways that have influence on life today, so I could have gone on about that. I could write books on the lifestyle and safety and work sections. And all cultures have their own ways of viewing, supporting, and limiting blind people, so this could change a little or a lot depending on what your culture or the culture you are writing about is like.

-BlindBeta

#blind #blind life #blindbeta

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hekatekun · 3 years

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The metanarrative’s grand narrative: Osomatsu-san’s characterization throughout the franchise

The growing cynicism throughout the entire Osomatsu-san franchise shows itself in season 3 with more prominence than anything prior. I think that’s pretty common amongst any “long-running” gag comedy - replacing a plot with spiteful commentary that’s admittedly pretty hit or miss at times. However, it invariably creates a negative but pretty funny character growth, and I love the way the show (I’m including the movie too as “canon” material considering season 3 has referenced it way too many times for me to disregard) has set up this metanarrative across seasons. Long post ahead.

Obviously, Osomatsu-san is self-aware and has a casual relationship with itself. No linear plot (though S3 seems to be trying it out and I’ve enjoyed it - I love that they’re willing to experiment), rather a collection of unrelated skits; and so it points out its own metanarrative because of this “lack of consequences.” With comedy comes impermancy and Ososan AND -kun will always bounce back from that week’s insanity. From the Oxford Dictionary, a metanarrative is “a narrative account that experiments with or explores the idea of storytelling, often by drawing attention to its own artificiality.” Basically: a story about stories.

On top of this, is what I’m calling the “grand narrative,” which is often used interchangeably with metanarrative, but here I’m making a distinction to make it less confusing. Of course, Ososan is a story about stories, but with that comes a story it’s not directly telling, which is where most of the (little) character development is taking place. This is what I’m going to call the grand narrative of a show whose premise is being a meta-aware comedy. I’ll admit I’m by no means an expert on these subjects, but storytelling methods are something I enjoy trying to analyze. As a media format, Ososan really utilizes the fact that it’s a tv show.

Right off the bat S1E1 makes it clear what to expect: Nothing. Not a damn thing. But, the show had already been cleared for this first season, so it has to be produced. This same episode’s preview is done by Osomatsu, which I’m just gonna quote instead screenshot because there’s too many.

“...we plan on properly starting the anime the next episode.” “...you ended up with an extra minute, so you need me to do something to fill it?! Actually, is this anime going to be okay with episode one being like this? I’m getting worried about how the rest of this is going to be...” “There, I used up a minute! [EPISODE ENDS]”

Episode one is not only batshit referential, but downright mocking the state of anime in 2015. Which, truthfully, I don’t have much to comment on in that regard, as I’m not an avid anime fan. However, it does this under the premise of being indecisive about what kind of anime they wanted the Osokun reboot to be.

They’ll do just about anything to stay popular and relevant considering that is, quite literally, all they have going for them as characters in the series and just being characters in general. They may be pieces of shit, but they’re likeable pieces of shit. The dynamics they’ve built upon to be entertaining is encouraged, and they’re basically just roleplaying different skits and fucking around.

All the AUs! All the skits! They’re just playing! They’re just fuckin’ around!! They couldn’t come up with any interesting plot nor could they “graduate” from being anime protagonists and join the real world, so they just fuck around and make a gag anime!

Even if we follow both as the audience, the show makes a difference between the what’s them in their “normal life” (crazy begets crazy, no?) and what’s their “show.” But, really, that’s just one way to look at it, as they don’t really follow any rules as a show. I could say the Joshimatsus are separate characters from the sextuplets, and it’d be a “correct” interpretation. It doesn’t really matter - I’m choosing to examine it all as being the six of them just running around and playing, because being entertaining and having fun is all they know as characters. Besides, having it blended together beyond recognition reinforces how it prioritizes entertaining us, the audience, above logic. Storytelling doesn’t need to make absolute spatial-temporal sense for it to be enjoyable to fans.

In any case, that mentality really seems to be what pushes their character development negative, as they look to reinforce habits and rituals despite them being really detrimental for them in the long run. They know they’re popular characters as is, and with really everyone from staff to fans encouraging this behavior further, so they see no point in fixing what isn’t really broken.

I found this 4 year old article from Manga.Tokyo discussing the Ososan phenomenon in Japan because while the craze died off pretty quickly in American anime circles (which deserves a whole other post), Japanese fans went fuckin’ nuts.

This portion caught my attention, as it makes sense that entitled and enabled asshole children would grow up to be entitled and enabled asshole adults. The article also goes on to compare them to idols (even beyond the F6 spoof) and that they are rooted in being comfort characters above all else.

It’s worth a read, especially because Japanese fan response is what drives majority of the content post-S1, and, inevitably, ties into their character development.

They know that they’re Characters, particularly Protagonists. You know what happens to protagonists? Everything works out. Just about every single story created has stuff working out for protagonists. In fact, we have a whole genre made that separates stories with bad tragic endings from our Normal Stories. Ososan is a comedy, not a tragedy, so surely there’s gonna be some payoff somewhere along the road, especially as the seasons and other content are still being pumped out. To a self-aware, entitled, enabled protagonist, assuming everything is just gonna work out for you isn’t that far off from your narrative truth.

However, Ososan is a gag anime, and a lot of gag content (like 4koma mangas) is dropped for other projects before any emotional cathartic ending is provided for characters and fans alike. So, three seasons and a movie later, nothing has happened. It’s a great idol cash cow with a Family Guy filter, and the characters (and writers) don’t even bother to hide it anymore. And I know I’m being hypocritical concerning my definition of “canon material” but I think this portion from one of the drama cds “Choroplex” basically summarizes my point:

CHOROMATSU: Wait, don’t make this into a gag! You don’t even care about becoming employed, right? KARAMATSU: There’s no way that could happen... CHOROMATSU: What kind of future are you imagining? Is it nothing but this? [HUGE PAUSE BEFORE THEY MOVE ONTO SOMETHING ELSE]

They’re parodies of themselves and are running out of ideas. Stagnation and decay is normal, if not unavoidable, at this point in time for them. They’re just 20 somethings who’ve hit a wall but they’re too scared and insecure to bring about permanent positive change. It’s easier for them to fall back into normal patterns and joke off the rest.

They have an antagonistic relationship with expectations. They can’t handle a single iota of expectations, or responsibilities. They’ve never needed to worry before, so why bother now? Once the biggest hits on the block, now they’re just guppies in the ocean, and there’s nothing they believe themselves to be able to accomplish to keep up with this big brave new world. This is epitomized in S3E15, where old man Osomatsu tells a bastardized version of the Tortoise and the Hare, blatantly projecting his feelings onto it. Again, too many screenshots so let me pull more quotes (bolding for my own reference):

“The place that the tortoise thought was the goal was not actually the goal. His journey down the road of life still continued on. The tortoise was quite tired, but he continued running anyway.” “No one actually knew who was in front anymore. There are too many people above you.” “After the tortoise found out how society worked, he thought, ‘So this is the difference in talent? No amount of hard work is going to fix this. All right. I’m done competing with others.’”

S3 has left more questionable endings than its counterparts. The last 2 skits I referenced don’t even a gag to them, and the marriage skit doesn’t play music for the entire second half of S3E5. There’s more involved too. I haven’t even brought up the rice ball twins becoming actual entertainers in their universe, or how they introduced this whole AI subplot only to reject it because All Six Of Them aren’t interested in expanding their little corner of the world. Here’s a transcript of the ending preview from S3E1:

“Hey, hey, Osomatsu here. I thought we were saved from being replaced, but I guess we get new characters next week. Man, we’re busy. New encounters, changing surroundings... We’re NEETs to begin with because all that is a pain. I guess a lot can happen after three seasons. [EPISODE ENDS]”

The sextuplets’ mindsets are extremely self-centered, which is also an environmental thing (the parents don’t even really care that they’re NEETs, for one) and an understanding of what they ought to be (epic successful protagonists). They also have a very black and white mentality, all or nothing. They’re extremely sheltered, and once they realized where they stood in society at large, they just gave up. To them the world is divided between winners and losers, and somehow, “inexplicably,” they found themselves to have fallen from grace. But they’re protagonists, that has to count for something! Everything’s gonna end up okay, right? Well... what this show has told them: No, not at all. They are consistently compared and warned of Iyami, and are perfectly aware of this fact, and have come to internalize it as a truth rather than a reversible self-fulfilling prophecy.

Too many screencaps, taken from the S3S5 marriage discussion:

JYUSHIMATSU: I wonder if we’re gonna get married someday, too. CHOROMATSU: Well, I mean... probably? I’m not exactly sure, but... TODOMATSU: What? You’re gonna get married, Choromatsu-niisan? CHOROMATSU: Huh? Well, yeah... someday.

Surprise! They have commitment issues! The same group that couldn’t commit to a fucking plot! Though their personality issues have several factors involved, I can’t overlook the theater motifs abound. Life’s a stage, and they’re performing entirely unscripted and it shows.

Do I think all of this is 100% intentional on the writers’ part? No, probably not. There’s also an extra layer here regarding contemporary Japanese commentary that I’m not familiar with, so I just ended up focusing on the characters. I can’t be in the writers’ heads, but whatever decisions are being made by executives regarding censorship and “compliance” are reflected in these character changes that result in being significantly more bitter and defeatist.

In the all or nothing, winner-take-all mentality, the only way to save face at this point, in their minds, is to own up to it - act like it’s what they wanted all along. And, hey, it’s funny to watch, right?

“Why is Osomatsu all my examples”, you might be asking. Well, he’s the damn blueprint for it all. The leader of the bunch, the first personality to grab your attention, has had all his issues projected and ricocheted in their echo chamber.

Ultimately, my point here is that you could think their “canon characterizations” (though canon means nothing in a show like this) as being intertwined with the nature of their self-aware existence. They’ve shown you all their tricks, the smoke and mirrors are getting boring, and they’re stalling long enough the story seems to be moving on without them - in spite of them. And when something genuinely threatens their way of life, they don’t know how to respond.

You can play it all straight, of course. Remove the meta jokes and all the same plot points can be hit, but, as a slapstick comedy, it’s able to easily add this additional layer in that I appreciate. I’ve said it in my last post and I’ll probably say it in more, but with comedy comes sincerity - the caveat of all the cartoon violence is that, on some level somewhere, this is how they really feel.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu #karamatsu #choromatsu #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #osomatsu matsuno #karamatsu matsuno #choromatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu matsuno #todomatsu matsuno #analysis #confession this was sparked by a convo i had w friends about s3e18 #this is a bit truncated but i couldnt bring myself to make this longer #maybe ill make a pt2 or whatever idk

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honestlyzenoouh · 3 years

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Aaron Goes Big Instead Of Home (And Poor Kevin Dies A Bit Inside)

This fic is also on AO3 if you prefer to read over there :)

This was all Neils fault, 100% the little assholes fault. It was a simple bet, a very small one indeed. The fact that Neil even agreed to the bet, should have tipped Aaron off from the very start. But sadly, Aaron is nothing but a salty bitch when it comes to Neil, and the fact the bet involved his brother was even better. He could kill two, no actually tree birds with one tiny victory. Convince his brother that his relationship with Neil was nothing but loveless sex, prove Neil wrong whilst also getting to humiliate him. Win win win.

Teeny tiny flaw in his plan though. Neil won. Neil actually got Andrew to casually display relationship like PDA. With Andrew initiating. Holding hands, kisses goodbye, softly touching hips to get by each other, the whole shebang. Fuck. Damnit. Crap. He wasn’t suppose to readily showcase his emotions towards Neil, he was suppose to prove to both Aaron and himself that the relationship was a fad, and let it fizzle out like his and Katelyns. Okay, he might have been a little bit bitter, as well as the usual annoyance Neil brings out in him, when he made the bet. Whatever.

So here Aaron stood, almost exactly six months after the bet started, in Katelyn’s bathroom just looking at the offending clothes. Katelyn and him might have broken up, but they still consider each other their platonic soulmates. The sex kinda spelled that out for them, not really enjoyable for either of them. Katelyn found out she definitely was on the asexual spectrum, where sex was only enjoyable for her sometimes. When they first got together she had laid all the cards on the table, and told him her feelings about sex, and Aaron had been very understanding and patient with her. It took a long time for their relationship to turn physical, other than the casual kissing and hand holding, and in the two and a half years they had been together, actual sex had only happened a handful of times. And only one of those times had been somewhat satisfactory for both of them.

It was after the last time they had sex, one of the worse experiences for both of them, that Katelyn suggested they might be right for each other. Aaron had wanted to argue with her, wanted to be hurt she would say such a thing, but Aaron had been having the same thoughts for a while before. Because while Katelyn might be asexual, Aaron sure as fuck wasn’t. He got urges and fantasies, and whilst he understood Katelyn didn’t, he also knew it wasn’t her fault they weren’t clicking right sexually. So they mutually decided that they might be better of as best friends instead of partners, but weren’t ready to tell people. Katelyn wasn’t ready to come out, and Aaron would like to keep his pride and not be pitied.

(The sexual identity crisis that sprung forwards in Aaron when he actually realized that it was not only Katelyn that didn’t find pleasure in their sex life is not to be spoken about. Internalized homophobia and too much alcohol doesn’t mix, too many tears, understanding Nickys, and not nearly enough answers. Whatever, he has time to figure it out when the time is right.)

The uniforms material felt way too heavy in his hands, considering it was only a two piece, yet it was surprisingly soft. He guessed that’s what happens if you actually use fabric softener, but what was he suppose to know? He didn’t care enough about his clothes to spend the extra cash on that shit. Katelyn does though, or whoever she borrowed the clothes from did.

He shifted the fabric around his fingers and actively considered forfeiting his dare. However the mere thought of letting Neil win even more, made him visible recoil and slightly nauseas. Fuck that, a thousand times over. A simple knock on the door and a voice asking if he was okay in there, got him out of his staring contest with the outfit, and mumble something even he wasn’t sure what meant.

Taking a deep breath he finally shimmed out of his pants, and pulled the undergarment of the uniform on. A bit shorter than he was used to, but not too bad. Taking off his hoodie and replacing it with the top, made it all a bit much, and way too real. He’s gonna lose his dignity as well as his masculinity to this. The bright orange Vixens uniform sat tight against his chest, but flowed nicely the rest of the way down. Turning a bit this way and that, he got to study his whole body. His ass which normally was kinda flat, popped a bit with the skirt accentuating its shape flatteringly. His shoulder and biceps got the same treatment with the tanktop’s broad straps. So maybe not all masculinity is lost to this. Gathering a bit of his spite for Neil, and general courage, he finally unlocked the door. Finding his last fucks to give after a couple of more moments, he also opened the door. Luckily, it was only Katelyn waiting for him. She moved her head from her phone and smiled from her upside down position on the couch.

“You good?” She simply asked him. Kneading the fabric of the skirt, and pulling at it a bit he nodded.

“As good as I’m gonna get, wearing a skirt because of a stupid fucking bet. I’m so stupid.” Pulling a bit more on the skirt, he looked around. “Where are the others? I just really wanna get this over and done with” Katelyn helpfully pointed downward, hopefully meaning Fox Towers third floor and not the parking lot. Sighing and looking at her with tense shoulders, a question all by it self, she only raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. Obviously not the parking lot, who did he think she was? A monster? Him lifting one of his now unclenched shoulders, no, but you do enjoy to slightly bullying me, so why not. Katelyn snorted and finally got up from the couch.

“I thought about it, not going to lie to you, but your face when I gave you the uniform made me reconsider. You looked like a kicked puppy, it was so sad.” Aaron grunted to make his displeasure know, but followed her to the front door. He only hesitated a bit going through, so little only people who really knew him would realize. Luckily, (or unluckily, depending on how you view it) Katelyn was one of those very few people, and she put an arm around his shoulders for comfort. Together they walked the short way to stairs and down the two flights from fifth to the third floor, thankfully without running into anyone. The hallway of the third floor also blessedly empty, gave Aaron a false sense of fortitude. Holding on to it, until it became as genuine as it’s gonna be, he looked up to Katelyn, “Which room?”

After a quick glance at her phone, she nodded towards the upperclassmen’s room. Great, so Neil roped the whole team together to witness this. Fucker. Shaking off the rest of his nerves, he shrugged off Katelyn’s arm and walked up to the door. Opening and stepping inside made his heart start pounding, but nothing happened. Literally nobody was even looking at him, or acknowledging his presence at all. All eyes seem to be on his twin, currently laying face down on the floor. “This is the worst day of my life” came muffled from the floor. Looking from face to face, Aaron finally made eye contact with someone. Sadly that someone was Neil.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Aaron silently dared him to comment. Unable to backdown, Neil did just that. “Okay Minyard, that’s a bit low, even for you” Nodding towards Aarons chest area whilst he said so, made Aaron look down at the v-neck. Sure it was a bit deep, considering his lack of boobs, but it wasn’t that bad. The v stopped at about the middle of his chest, pale blond hairs exposed to world for once. Bracing himself once again for all the attention that was bound to come his way, now that Neil had spoken to him, he took another step into the room, Katelyn right behind him. But still, all eyes except for Neils’ were on his twin as an unenthusiastic “fuck you” came from the floor. This time it was Neil that raised an eyebrow, want to make a game of this? Aaron nodded once, intrigued with this whole situation.

“Seriously A, isn’t this a bit over the top?” Neil gestured a bit with his hands, presumably meaning the Vixens uniform. Fair question, when the forfeit only specified a skirt. But Aaron kinda lived by go big or go home, and when he asked Katelyn if he could borrow a skirt, and the only thing she had he would be able to fit in was the uniform he said fuck it. To answer Neils question he nodded towards Katelyn, who gave a tiny wave. A look of understanding crossed his face when an answer came from the floor. “This is a perfectly reasonable reaction” This startled a laugh out of Nicky, and made Kevin look up from Andrew towards Neil. When he saw him looking nowhere near Andrew he followed Neils eyesight and caught sight of Aaron. His eyes widened and he stood stock still, but not a noise or word passed through him. Aaron didn’t get the time to analyze that particular reaction, as Neil once more spoke up.

“Right, sure. Kevin, what is your take on the situation? I mean, he only lost a bet, isn’t that a bit overly dramatic?” The mischievous grin he wore didn’t bore well for Aaron. He knew something Aaron didn’t, that fucker. When all Kevin seemed able of answering was a stuttery mess, the foxes finally shifted their attention away from Andrew, most likely to laugh at Kevins inability to talk. Yet, once they saw Kevins now slightly awed expression, and both his and Neils direction of sight, they subsequently came to look in Aarons direction.

What followed was probably the most awkward five seconds of Aarons life. It started as a stunned silence, which was broken by Kevin sadly saying “This is a very bad time to have an identity crisis.”, after that all hell seemed to break loose. Nicky and Allison were actively trying to get Kevin to elaborate on that, and close some bets for them. Matt and Dan were looking at each other, and then at Aaron seemingly trying to work out how best to approach the situation. The new foxes tried to gently blend into the background and disappear with no luck. Only Renee was brave enough to face him. “Hello Aaron, I like your outfit. Is this a new thing we might see more often?”

The innocent question floored Aaron for a bit, and shut the foxes up again. Sure he was still trying to figure out his sexuality, but his gender identity was never a question for him. But now that he was thinking about it, he didn’t actually mind wearing the skirt. Sure it wasn’t completely comfortable, but it was a sports uniform. His own was made of the same kinda fabric and had the same feel, so he was use to that. But if he found a more modest skirt in more comfortable fabric, he didn’t think he’d mind it all that much. I did make his ass pop. Really thinking about that fact made his brain momentarily shut down. Once rebooted he looked Renee in the eyes and answered

“I don’t, I don’t think so? I mean, I’m not sure? It might? Can I get back to you on that one?” Trying to be more open with foxes had been a thing he’s been working on as a new years resolution, but here two months later, it was still really hard. Admitting that hurt a little. Shifting his attention towards Neil again he suddenly realized something. “You didn’t tell them did you?”

“No, I didn’t actually think you would go through with it.” He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at Aaron

“Tell us what?” Came from floor. Andrew had finally decided to join the conversation, apparently. He had only turned his face from directly down, to towards Aaron at the door. He didn’t seem too judgmental, only a bit confused. Ever since Bee had finally convinced Andrew to try a new type of medication, to treat his bipolar disorder and depression, Andrew had become a whole new person. A much more readable person, but you still can’t be a 100% sure with him.

“I made a bet with Neil, and obviously lost. So my punishment was to go out of my comfort zone in the clothes department, considering and I quote; I bitch so much about his. I thought a skirt was the most out there for me. Why are you lying on floor?” Ah, the dreaded communication they needed to better. They were getting there, albeit slowly. Bee helped a lot.

“Andrew got cocky about his biceps, and Matt challenged it with an arm wrestle match. As you can probably guess, Andrew lost.” Dan cheerfully informed from beside Matt, who looked rightfully smug. This made Andrew turn downwards agin and groan sadly. “I benchpress more than any of you” was spoken into the floor. This made the foxes laugh once more. Aaron shuffled a bit from foot to foot, and made the tactful decision to leave with all the focus on his brother. He technically did do the forfeit after all. Get out of his comfort zone and show at least 4 different foxes. Whether it was individually or in a group was up to him.

When he got to his room and about to close the door, he got stopped by a hand on the frame. A very uncomfortable looking Kevin was the owner of said hand. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, and took a big breath, but didn’t say anything. He then got into motion and just walked into the room. Well then. “What do you want Kevin?” Crossing his arm across his chest, Aaron “patiently” awaited an answer.

“Go on date. Me with. I mean, uuuhhh” Aaron’s brain shut down once more, and this time the reboot apparently took a little too long, because when he refocused in on Kevin once more the man was fidgeting. Which wasn’t something Aaron had ever seen him do. What the fuck was happening here? Was Kevin actually asking him out? And more importantly, why was he asking him out? As far as Kevin was concerned, him and Katelyn was still happily together. He tried to come up with an answer, but Kevin’s flickering eyes threw him off. They kept going from his face to the skirt and then landing on the v neckline. It was almost a pattern. His eyes went from the skirt to his face again when he suddenly spoke up again.

“You need to change. I just. I can’t think, and I really want to talk to you, because I overheard Nicky one time, but I don’t really know if it was just Nicky being Nicky or if it’s actually true. I did ask him but he shut down and wouldn’t even look at me for three days after, so I don’t know for sure. So can you make me think? I mean change. Pl- if you could be as kind.”

Aaron thought he nodded before he turned and walked in to the dorms bedroom, but he honestly wasn’t sure. So many thoughts swirled around in his head, made it hard to concentrate on getting changed. Had Nicky really been so careless he accidentally outed him? It was with Nicky he had had his sexuality revelation and cry with, that cursed night after a Trip to Eden.

It had been a few weeks after Katelyn and him had called it off relationship wise, and Aaron had been having these weird feelings and his mind kept supplying him with these random observation. Objectively speaking, your Chemistry 102 TA is attractive. His sharp cheekbones and plumb lips are attractive features to have. The boy sitting across from you smells nice, wonder what cologne he uses? The man behind the counter at the coffee shop had really nice eyes. They were a warm brown you could get a little lost in.

He had just crossed the doorway into the house when the thought hit him. What if the reason that sex with Katelyn wasn’t satisfying for him, wasn’t because of the fact that Katelyn was asexual and weren’t as in to it as he was, but because she was a girl? What if the reason he seemingly couldn’t have as good an orgasm with a partner then alone, was because he had the wrong gendered partner. He had had earlier girlfriends in high school, both before and after Andrew had arrived, but he always seemed to excuse the bad sex as inexperience. But what if it wasn’t?

That had floored Aaron completely, and he had taken a stuttered breath and stumbled to the couch so he could sit down. Nobody seemed to pay him any mind, hopefully just chalking it up to drunken behavior, not the life revelation it had been. Neil and Andrew hadn’t been drinking that night, and they wasted no time bringing their things up to Andrew’s bedroom to go to bed. Kevin had stayed at Palmetto to spend the weekend with his father, but Nicky had bargained with Andrew for them to go to Columbia anyway, and gotten his way somehow. (Aaron hadn’t asked, didn’t really want to know.) When they arrived at Eden he had all but begged Aaron to drink with him. So Aaron had matched him drink for drink, and actually had a good time. He even danced a bit with a random person with a pixie cut and let a little loose.

He hadn’t realized the tears gathering, nor the way his breathing had picked up until Nicky appeared out of nowhere sitting down next to him. He had swirled his head to look Nicky in the eyes, and the easy going smile he had on his face died when he saw Aaron’s face. He must have looked terrified because Nicky sounded completely sober when he spoke,

“Aaron are you okay? What’s wrong? Did something happen at Eden? Should I go get Andrew?” The more he spoke, the faster the words spilled out and the more panicked he sounded. Aaron tried to draw in a breath to answer him, but it got stuck in his throat so he just shook his head desperately. He really didn’t want to include Andrew too, and rather die than include Neil. Nicky had nodded his head, but still looked at him worriedly. When he finally mastered the art of breathing again he blurted out what he should have said ages ago, even before his little revelation.

“I’m sorry Nicky, I’m so sorry” He crumbled while he said it, and his head had landed in Nicky’s lap. The tears had started to fall about halfway through his apology and he didn’t predict them to stop anytime soon. But neither did the muttered apologies, I’m so sorry spoken softly into Nicky’s thigh. Nicky was bordering on hysteric at that point, franticly petting his hair and seemingly answering Aaron’s apologies

“It’s okay, I forgive you! I don’t really know what you’re apologizing for, but it can’t be that bad! Sure, you’re kinda an asshole, but you’re apologizing so you’re not that big of one. Why do you keep apologizing? It’s okay, I’m right here. Whatever you did I’m always gonna be in your corner, so please stop crying I don’t know what to do! How can I help? If you don’t calm down I’ll have to go get Andrew because I really don’t know how to help you if you don’t speak to me, and I’m starting to get really worried now. Please talk to me.”

It was only when Nicky had started to shift around, as if trying to get up, that Aaron finally snapped out of it. He wrapped his arms tightly around Nicky’s legs and shook his head, turning around to look up at him with pleading eyes. Nicky had looked back at him, tears in his eyes as well and shifted once more. “I’m giving you two minutes to start explaining or I’m getting him. This will not go unspoken of, do you hear me Aaron? I’m pretty sure you’re having a mental break down or something, and you can’t keep that all inside. That is super unhealthy and can cau-“

“I think I might be gay” Nicky had gotten very quiet and still, just looking at Aaron and blinking rapidly. Aaron took a steadying breath and wiped his face free of tears, head still in Nicky’s lap. Figuring fuck it, I already said the hardest part he continued speaking, voice croaking making it deeper than normal.

“I don’t actually know, I just. I keep having these thoughts ever since Katelyn and I broke up, which we did like, a month ago, and I think my brain is just now connected the dots because apparently I’m fucking stupid, and can’t figure out that sex wasn’t as satisfying as regular masturbation, was not because the people I’m with are bad at it, but because they don’t have what I need. Or is it the bad thing and I’m only overanalyzing? The only thing I’m really sure of right now is the fact I’m a huge asshole for giving you and Andrew such a hard time for being gay, when I might be it too. That and apparently I find my chemistry TA hot, and like the way men smell and what is wrong with me?” Aaron sniffed and a few more tears fell from his eyes. They were starting to feel a bit sore now. Aaron had jumped when Nicky suddenly took a huge breath and whispered something that sounded like okay, you can do this. Making eye contact with his older cousin he got a small smile. He reached down wipe the last of the tears away, and began petting his hair again. Much more soothingly this time around.

“So this is a lot to unpack, so what do you say we take it in small bites hmm?” When all Aaron did was nod, he continued on, “So you and Katelyn broke up? Are you okay in regards to that?”

Aaron looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers but answered him, “Yeah, about a month ago. Maybe a little longer. It was an actual mutual decision, something we both felt needed to be done. We had a big fat discussion about our feelings and called it quits. We just aren’t ready to tell just yet. Might not for a while to be honest. She has some things to work through, and she’s my best friend so of course I’ll put it off for as long as she needs.” Shrugging his shoulders he looked up again.

“Okay then, I’m happy to hear you’re doing okay there. These… thoughts you mentioned, what exactly do you mean?” Wincing a little, Aaron had tried to clarify his brains jumbled observations. They sat on the couch talking about each and everything Aaron had been feeling and thinking about those past two months. Aaron found that Nicky could be surprisingly quiet and understanding, and that it was really cathartic to talk about it all. So apparently Aaron could see the attractiveness about guys, but he didn’t know if he wanted to date them. Kissing had crossed his mind once or twice, but quickly shut down because he wasn’t ready to think about it.

The last thing Aaron had asked of Nicky before they went to bed that night, a few hours later, was that he kept quiet. He wasn't ready to explore his sexuality, let alone come out. Nicky had given him an understanding smile and sighed out of course.

A knock on the door startled Aaron out of his memory and into the present again. Shrugging his hoodie over his head he decided to just get it over and done with. Fucking Kevin sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. When he was fully dressed once more, he walked over to the door and ripped it open.

"What do you want Kevin?" He said maybe a little too forcefully. Kevin had moved away from the door, and was sitting at the couch Matt had supplied the living room with. He gestured to the other end where he was sitting. Sighing to make his displeasure known, he got to the couch and plopped down. Looking over at the other boy he repeated his question, a bit more mellow this time. Kevin was sitting with his legs curled up under him, his right hand playing with the fabric of his pants.

"A date, ideally. With you, specifically." His face was set in a small smile, eyes sparkling hopefully. Aaron's heart sank a little, so Nicky had outed him. Accidental or not, that still shot a pang of panic and hurt through him. Before he could muster up the energy to answer him, Kevin continued,

"I don't actually know if you'd be interested, or even actually into boys. About three weeks ago, I overheard Nicky speaking to who I assume was Erik, considering he was speaking some german. He kept switching between english and german though, and going on a tangent about queerness being genetic, the twins, and breaking up with girlfriends. Never mentioning any names. So I don't- I'm not actually sure it was you he was talking about. I tried to ask him but he just shouted no, hung up the phone and all but ran away from me. He haven’t really spoken to me yet. I think he feels bad, because I overheard him.”

A feeling of relief spread through Aaron. Even though Nicky had spoken about their conversation from months ago, he had worded it so only people who knew Nicky intimately would have a clue. Or simply think he was talking about Andrew. Still feeling some of his earlier panic, Aaron opened his mouth to profusely deny deny deny, not at all ready to talk about his sexuality again, he remembered a tiny detail from Kevin’s explanation. If he had overheard Nicky three weeks ago, why in the world hadn’t he said anything? Either to him or the others? Closing his mouth again, Aaron tried to calculate what would happen if he “came out” to Kevin. He wasn’t even sure what the ever-loving fuck he was, other than not straight, but if Kevin had held tight for those three weeks maybe he would for however long it took for Aaron to figure it out. One small parentheses made the equation hard though. Kevin’s apparent desire to date Aaron. Aaron might not be the best at math, but a huge glaring pair of parentheses in an equation needed to be addressed first, in order to solve said equation. Right? Aaron’s pre-med not a simple math major, how was he supposed to know?

“Why?” It had slipped out of Aaron’s lips without permission, but he really needed to know before they got any further in this equation. Why now? Why him? Kevin furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, apparently not getting Aaron’s question. Aaron elaborated his inner thoughts, and the questions made Kevin pause. A slight flush rose across his cheeks, but it didn’t take long for him to gather his thoughts, only a shake of his head.

“So, I’ve been talking to Bee right? In the process of becoming sober” Aaron nodded, not really in the mood to actually talk right now. Luckily, Kevin continued on.

“Okay, so. She hasn’t just been helping me getting sober, also just. Better? In general. We have been talking trough my growing up, and Riko and Andrew. Just. Everything I guess. It made me realize some things, and she has been encouraging me to do something about it. I haven’t wanted to, until three weeks ago, where I heard I might have an actual chance.” He shrugged his shoulders, now looking down at his lap, really focusing on the piece of fabric between his fingers. Aaron’s mouth went a little dry at that implication, not that he really knew why.

He thought all bravery had left his body, after having to endure his forfeit, but apparently not because he felt himself reaching his right hand across and over Kevin’s left. It made him start and look up at Aaron. Sitting there with his hand over Kevins made him feel the same sense of fuck it, as he had with Nicky all those weeks ago. So throwing caution into the wind, he unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and asked what he thought was the most pressing matter.

“What did you realize?” Kevin’s face went from flush to straight up red, but he kept his eyes locked with Aaron.

“Apparently it is possible to admire people of the same sex aesthetically, and not just because of their exy skills. And that I find your personality and general body incredibly attractive.”

Kevin’s voice had gone down an octave, and the sound of it sent a shot of something, through his stomach. The very same something he has been feeling pertaining his chemistry TA lately. Great, now he also found fucking Kevin hot. Not that that might be a problem with Kevin considering the resent confession. Though now that he really thought about it, Kevin really is an attractive person. He has sharp cheek bones, but his green eyes softens his face up, so he doesn’t look so severe. His nose is slightly upturned, but with a tiny bump on the bridge, which is something Aaron hadn’t noticed before. Wonder where he got it from? Exy most likely. His thighs has the same kind of muscle definition that Katelyn has, which is something Aaron has always found arousing.

He should probably say something though, instead of just mindlessly looking at Kevin. The poor dude looked about one breath away from a minor break down. He shook his head to clear it from his Kevin related epiphany.

“Fuck it okay, all cards on the table?” He gestured with his left hand, just now noticing his right still laying over Kevins. When he got a hesitant nod from him, he continued on now determined.

“I don’t actually know what I am, other than maybe not straight. Katelyn and I are broken up yes, but we haven’t actually told anyone. Not ready yet” A slight flush rose across his own cheeks when he thought about his next admission, “And I kinda find you aesthetically pleasing as well.”

A small smile spread across Kevin’s face and he opened his mouth, but Aaron cut him of before any words could come through. “But! But, I really don’t know what that means. And I don’t think it’s fair for you, if I didn’t make that abundantly clear first. Your face is attractive, I think, and I know you enough to feel safe maybe starting a thing with you. Just, some minor things before you ask me again?”

Kevin nodded his head quickly and opened his mouth again, but once again Aaron cut him off before he could speak. “Okay so one;” He held a finger up on the hand not holding Kevin’s.

“I’m nowhere near ready to tell people about anything related to my sexuality, so if we do this. It’d have to be in complete secret,” Another finger joined the first one and he went on. “Two, we’d have to take it slow. I don’t know what I’m comfortable with, or how far I’m willing to go, so you’d need to be patient with me. Possibly really patient with me.”

He raised a third finger to go with his last bit.

“And lastly but most important, you need to tell me if things isn’t working for you anymore. I know I come with a lot of rules and regulations, but I need to figure out if this is really for me. You feel safe enough for me to try with specifically, but if that ever ends up not being enough for you, you tell me. Immediately. That is very important to me. If there is one thing my relationship with both Katelyn and Andrew have taught me anything it is honesty is super important. Well, and consent but you know Andrew too so of course you know that. Okay, you can talk now.” He unfurled his hand, and waved it at Kevin’s to demonstrate his point. Kevin looked a little shell shocked after being loaded with all that information, and he took a moment but finally he spoke, his small smile lighting up his eyes.

“Yeah, I can work with that.”

It was spoken softly, and it took Aaron an extra two seconds to realize what Kevin meant. He still wanted to “date” Aaron, even with all these rules. And he had not seen that coming, expecting Kevin to give up and find someone new to pester about dating. He hadn’t really taking his stubbornness into consideration, which really was an oversight on Aaron’s part, and predicted this would happened.

“Ask me again.” He challenged him, a small part of him still excepting him to not go through with it. And by now, Aaron kinda really wanted to go on this gay adventure with Kevin.

Kevin’s smile grew in size, and made a dimple appear in his right cheek, another thing Aaron hadn’t noticed Kevin do(had, could?), and he shifted closer to Aaron. He shifted his left hand so they were holding hands, rather than Aaron holding Kevins, and took hold of his right hand as well, placing both in his lap. Aaron could feel his cheeks warming up, but didn’t hinder his movements.

“Would you like to go on a date with me? And maybe hold a little hands with me? That’s all I ask for now, and we can figure adjustments out as we see fit in the future. And secrecy is okay with me at the moment, and I promise to tell you if I change my mind.”

Aaron’s whole upper body felt warm now, most likely a blush, but he also felt surprisingly excited. This had suddenly turned into a thing Aaron really wanted to explore. Mirroring Kevin’s smile he answered, feeling confident in his mental math. This equation wasn’t so hard to solve as the first one.

“Yeah okay, I think I’d really like that”

Part 1 of “Aaron Tries His Best”

1 - 2(coming soon)

#kevaaron #andreil #besties Aaron and Katelyn #Kevin Day #Aaron Minyard #Nicky Hemmick #all for the game #all for the gay #aftg #zenoouh writes #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard

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obae-me · 4 years

Note

Hiii! May I please request headcanons of the brothers with a MC who has hydrophobia? Thanks sweetie 💖

I wanted to do a little bit of research into it before I even posted it, and I really hope I’m not getting Aquaphobia and Hydrophobia confused. This was something new for me so I’m sorry if it’s not the best. I hope this has enough of what you want, thank you so so much for submitting! 💜

Lucifer

He already knew this about MC, so he’d try to keep them away from large bodies of water as much as he could. Luckily in the Devildom there weren’t many. Not around RAD anyway. He knows about the large lake beside Diavolo’s castle, but there’s not too many times MC would be there.

The time did come eventually. Lucifer and MC had been invited to his castle to talk more about the program. Diavolo had taken them both outside since it seemed much more pleasant than his ‘stuffy castle’. Of course he had taken them both right near that open body of water.

This would be the first time Lucifer got to see how serious this was. It was one thing to know about and another to see it in action. He was aware of MC right beside him, starting to tremble, their hands fidgeting. Their skin has lost some of its color.

MC had never looked like this in front of him before, not even when any of him or his brothers were in demon form. They had always been too brave for their own good, a trait he had both found annoying yet endearing. He put a supportive hand on their shoulder, and as soon as the conversation was over, he led them away from the lake.

“MC, MC, breathe. You’re right here with me.”

He covered their shoulders with his coat and stayed with them until MC caught their breath. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. He’d have to take extra precautions to make sure they never looked like that again.

He’d ask MC to join him in his study when they got home so they could talk about it. He couldn’t make another careless mistake like this again, for their sake.

Mammon

He is as clueless as always, but he never ever means to hurt MC intentionally. He just thought it would be fun to take them to the RAD swimming pool after hours. After all he had taken a dare earlier that day, and if he got away with it, he’d earn some serious cash.

He read their body language as “I’m nervous to be here after hours, what if Lucifer find out” instead of “I’m terrified to be by this huge demon-sized pool” so he tries shoving them in for fun.

MC absolutely shrieked. They grabbed onto him with a death grip, shaking like a leaf about to be blown off a tree due to violent winds. So, in shorter words, intensely.

Mammon was stunned for the longest time, trying to come up with all sorts of answers in his head to why they screamed like that? Was it something he did? Did MC see something? Did they not know how to swim or something?

“Hey, hey, human it was just a joke, huh, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

He held them close and led them outside, leaving his fun plans and money behind to take them home. He won’t soon be forgetting the piercing sound of the scream they made.

Once MC calmed down back in the House of Lamentation, they explained the ins and outs of their phobia to Mammon. Of all the things...he didn’t really think of the possibility that humans could be afraid of water.

“Dummy, why didn't you say that before?! Man now I do feel kinda like a scumbag.”

Will become very protective now anytime too much water is involved, sticking by MC’s side constantly. Not like he doesn’t already do this already.

Levi

He first noticed MC acting strange the first time they were in his room, and took strange steps to be as far away from his gigantic fish tank at all times. If they stayed in his room, they would make fervent glances over at it, looking more timid than usual.

He didn’t think much of it, since MC was new and he knew nothing about normal demons much less normal humans. He noted it as quirky and forgot about it...till he tried taking MC to the beach. Their reaction was much more severe, not even getting anywhere near close to the water’s edge, almost being even to afraid to look at the vastness of it.

When MC finally confided in him, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was somehow part of his fault.

“Was it the gigantic sea monster I released?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Levi, I’ve had this fear for a long time.”

Levi loves water, he feels most home at it, he even sleeps in a bathtub for Diavolo’s sake. He’s always secretly waited to share that love with MC. If they’re scared though...he won’t force them.

He’ll compare this to a scenario in a video game, just like MC has not been coded to swim. There will be some sort of barrier for them around water. This helps him understand this a bit easier.

If MC is too uncomfortable to be around his fish tank, whenever he feels like it, he’ll bring his whole setup into their room.

Satan

He made an educated guess that MC had this fear. He may or may not have been able to see some information about them by breaking into Lucifer’s study. Since it wasn’t often that MC came across too much water in the Devildom, he didn’t chalk it up to too big of an issue.

He did however, reread one of his books containing all sorts of different phobias and fears, so he could at least try to be knowledgeable about it.

One particular day, MC came home much too late. Apparently, they had made a point to take a much longer route home, just so they wouldn’t have to come across the dark and deep foreboding pond that was settled on one of the paths home.

He admitted he may have underestimated how much of a problem this actually was.

He’ll give MC all sorts of different routes to take, ones that would do well to avoid any ponds or rivers. It was probably for the best anyway, this was the Devildom after all, and rarely were the waters free of anything that could potentially harm MC.

He doesn’t really like water either, he’s not afraid of it like MC is, but he’ll stay away when he can. He feels more of a connection to MC because of this and will make sure he has a list of activities they both can enjoy together away on dry land.

If he feels like it’s impeding their life, he’ll try to help them overcome it.

Asmo

He was completely unaware until he got invited to a special After-RAD beach party. With MC as his plus-one, he dragged them out to mingle.

MC doesn’t bother wearing a swimsuit, for obvious reasons, but he takes that clue in an entirely different direction. “Oh are you going to swim au-natural? So bold~”

He’s very in tune the body so he knows how it looks when it’s pleased, and how it looks when it’s distressed.

So at the party he notices that MC’s chest is rising and falling much more than normal. Social jitters? He keeps a careful eye on them while he goes to town on the flirting. When he comes back around to MC, he sees more symptoms, the sweaty palms, the fluttering eyes, and their breathing is much more shallow now.

Once he finds out he doesn’t stop smothering MC with attention. “Why didn’t you tell me dear? It’s okay, we don’t need the beach to have fun, we’ll leave right away, there will plenty of other parties. All the people here are lame anyway.”

He’ll take MC back home to treat them to a spa night, something much more relaxing than that awful party. He’ll massage their shoulders, telling MC how tense they were after being there. “Poor sweet darling.”

MC can have a spa day with Asmo whenever they want, it’s so much more fun than parties, if they were the one he was working on at least.

Don’t worry because MC can be afraid of water all they want, but there are still plenty of ways to get wet~

Beel

He was told much later than he would’ve preferred. Having a phobia like this seemed like something MC would’ve shared with him almost immediately. He only figured it out after they shared it with him after he asked MC to watch him work out.

He wanted to change up his routine a bit, and decided to swim that day in the gym swimming pool. With MC there, he would be able to push himself further under their support.

However, because he was so immersed in his workout, he didn’t realize MC was in the middle of a panic attack. He looked up from the water just in time to watch MC sprint out of the pool area obviously flustered. He followed them immediately, worried it was something he did.

When he found them, they were gasping for air, tears streaking down their face. Beel wasted no time embracing them in a hug, petting their head and telling them to breathe in and out, to focus on his voice.

Once MC could speak, they apologized, briefly explaining their fear to him. Had he known, Beel wouldn’t have even gotten them anywhere near the pool.

He’ll fully support them, whether anyone says that their phobia is rational or not, it’s still something that terrifies them, and he doesn’t want them to feel like that ever, if he can help it.

Belphie

He still doesn’t know a lot about MC, since...you know. He doesn’t expect MC to tell him anything either because...well...

Found it out firsthand when he invited MC out to one of his favorite napping spots. A nice little place apart from the Devildom danger. Under a lovely weeping tree right near a wide river. This spot was perfect since the rapids rushing by canceled out the normal sounds of everyday demon life. Except it didn’t drown out MC’s fear.

He had fallen asleep as soon as they got to their destination, meaning that he left MC alone to their panic. They felt alone, ridiculous, and by the time Belphie opened his eyes to check on them, they were already in a ball, shivering.

The Demon of Sloth had hardly moved so fast to get to their side, giving them his special pillow to squeeze. When MC told him about it in choppy words, he let out a long sigh. He felt dumb.

“Let’s get you home then, you look exhausted.” Those were the only words he said, but he made up for it in his actions. He never once let go of them on their walk back to the House of Lamentation. He let them sleep in his bed since it was state of the art, he claimed.

MC never did discover that after they fell asleep, Belphie headed straight to Lucifer to chew him out for not telling him. Lucifer knew practically everything about MC, save for what Diavolo wouldn’t share. After he had said his piece, he went back to his shared bedroom to cuddle with them, making sure they were okay before he fell asleep this time.

Gee, he hates how MC keeps him restless.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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ediths · 4 years

Text

Bad Reputation

Pairing: Frat!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 11,573

Summary: You meet Tom at the coffee shop that you work at, and you never think you’ll see him again, but the world seems to be on your side.

Warning(s): mentions of sex, I think the word hell is used (i don’t think there are any other bad words), some self doubt by the reader, frat!tom (yes, that’s a warning hehe), mentions of tom being a boxer oops, it wasn’t edited (my wife was gonna help me edit it bUT i started overthinking and decided to just post it :))

A/N: This is officially the longest one shot I have ever written. This is for @t-holland2080 ‘s summer writing challenge. I never thought I was going to get it done, there was a lot of writing and deleting and questioning, but here we are! I hope everyone enjoys, and as always, feedback is highly appreciated!!

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You were stressed, to say the least. Today had been a busy day and it was only getting worse. Working at the coffee shop on campus had its perks, sure. Like having some extra cash and getting free coffee. But it also had its downsides. It was always busy. Some days, like today, even more so. A lot of the students were absolute jerks and couldn’t bother to wait more than thirty seconds to get their drink when it obviously took longer than that to make, and every one of them always had something snarky to say or a loot to throw you to let you know just how ridiculous it was that you couldn’t snap your fingers and the drink be done.

To say you were having a bad day was an understatement. You had opened the store, today being one of the only days when you had no classes, so you could work for longer, which meant that you had gotten up at five this morning so that you could get ready and be at the shop by six. Every person that you had greeted seemed to be in a hurry, hurtling snide comments at you over and over. It seemed to be the busiest day of the week, even though it was nowhere close to the weekend.

And to top it off, another customer just walked in. Thankfully, he took his time walking up to the register, spent a little while gazing at the sweets arranged in cases around the room. When he finally did make his way to you, he flashed you a bright smile.

“What can I get you today?” You ask, going through the motions.

“Hmm, can I just get a regular coffee, love?” He’s still got that heart stopping smile on his face, and you can’t help but give him a real smile back.

“Sure, will that be all for today?” You ask, wanting to put the order through so that it will get done faster, just in case he is in a rush. It’s just a black coffee, so all you have to do is pour it into a cup, but you’ve had multiple impatient people get upset over it taking you “too long” to pour it.

He wants to say no, wants to say that he wants your number too. He thinks you’re beautiful, and he secretly really wants to tell you that. He wants to let you know that he saw you through the shop window and that he only came in here because of you. He wants to tell you that he secretly hates black coffee but it’s the cheapest option and he had to buy something to talk to you.

But he says none of those things, doesn’t want to come off strong. He’s never seen you before, after all. He doesn’t know who you are, if you’re the kind of girl that would want to even give him the time of the day. If you’re the kind of girl that gave any boy the time of day.

So he settles for saying, “Yeah, that’ll be all,” he looks at your name tag, “y/n.”

You tell him the price and go to pour his coffee as he swipes his card. Once you’re done, you struggle to put a lid on it; trying, and failing, to not get coffee onto your hands.

You quickly wipe the slight spill off of the cup, not wanting him to get anything on his hands, and then hand him the cup, thanking him and wishing him a nice day.

Once he leaves the store, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. He was cute, really cute actually. And he looked like a nice enough guy. You don’t know how you’d never seen him around before, knowing that there’s no way you had, you’d remember a face like that.

Apparently, you wouldn’t remember a face like that. Not until he ordered coffee from you, anyway.

You went to your English class the next day, hoping that the lecture wouldn’t make you want to rip your hair out. When you sit down in your normal seat, a place near the middle, but a little closer to the back, you see him.

You can’t believe you had never noticed him. You had noticed every other person that he was sitting with. They were all the guys that came into class late every Friday morning because they were too hungover to get to class on time. They were the frat boys.

Did that mean…? No, it couldn’t. He didn’t look like the rest of the frat boys.

But he fit right in, really. He was perfectly in place in their group. Honestly, it looked like they all watched what he was doing, following whatever he did, almost as soon as he did it. It was like they were waiting for his instruction. You had heard the rumors, they only did that with the head of the fraternity, Tom Holland.

But no, that would mean that he was Tom Holland.

Even though you heard continuous rumors about the way that he partied, got blackout drunk, slept with random girls, and then never called them again, you had never once seen the infamous face of Tom Holland.

And nobody questioned it when you told them. You weren’t the kind of girl that would know who he is. You’re not the kind of girl that goes to parties every chance they get and hooks up with the first guy that you can get your hands on.

If your assumptions were correct, however, he had been right under your nose this whole time, you had just never paid attention to him.

He had been looking for you, had been trying to find your face in the sea of others the entire day. He had absolutely no luck doing so, though, seeing as apparently, you were nowhere to be found.

He even tried to ask about you, but according to everyone that he knows, you don’t exist. And if you do, you don’t go to school with him. But he’s determined. He will see your stunning face again, experience your heart warming smile one more time, at least.

For the time being, however, he’s trying to push the thought out of his mind, knowing full well that he has to focus on whatever his English professor is going to drone on and on about today.

Once he had turned in slightly in his seat to see where Harrison was, though, there was absolutely no chance that he would be paying attention to anything but you.

You were right there, you had been right under his nose this whole time and he had spent so much time trying to actively ignore everything to do with English that he completely overlooked you, the prettiest girl that he had ever seen.

Your eyes were downcast, looking at the notebook that you had brought to class. Yeah, you seemed like the type of girl that would rather hand write notes than type them.

Your cheeks and your ears were tinged pink and he couldn’t help but wonder what made you blush, but then you looked up and met his gaze, and every thought left his mind. He could do nothing but stare back at you like a fool until Harrison finally walked in, sitting down beside him and nudging him with his elbow.

“Who’re you looking at, mate?” The blonde asked.

“Nobody.” Tom quickly replied, not wanting to have to listen to his best friend nag him about being enamored about a girl that he had only talked to once. And it wasn’t even a real conversation, he just ordered coffee from you, there was no flirting, there was no getting to know each other. The only things that either of you had learned was that he ordered just black coffee when he drank it and that you worked at the campus coffee shop.

You tried to sit through the rest of class as if you hadn’t just, maybe, held full eye contact for like a whole minute with the head of the biggest frat on campus. But really, he’s all you could think about. You were usually pretty good at not getting distracted during class, at not having to worry about whether or not you missed something because you were lost in your own head. But today, you probably zoned out and missed over half the lesson.

This was crazy, right? No person should be this intrigued by a person that they’ve only talked to once and seen only twice, should they?

If it was crazy, though, you were completely embracing it. There was something about this boy, something about Tom, that was messing with your mind. You weren’t the kind of person to believe in soulmates, but you did believe that the universe brought people together. You believed that there was a reason for everything. Which means that there had to be a reason for Tom to have walked into the coffee shop that you worked in, on the day that you needed a little brightness the most. There had to be a reason that he was in your class, that your paths had crossed yet again.

He never paid attention to the things happening around him while he was in class. He had never before paid the slightest bit of attention to the people that would filter in through the doors. But ever since he saw you in his English course, he started paying attention. And he realized that he had two other classes with you, his history course and his biology course.

He saw you every time that you had class with him, but he never had the guts to walk up and just talk to you. He had never had that problem before, usually going up to any girl he thought was attractive and sweet talking her into the palm of his hand in a matter of minutes.

Something about you was different, though. There was something about you that made him almost scared to just walk up to you. The fear of rejection when thinking about you was high, and that wasn’t something that he had felt in a long time.

It was almost like he felt that you were too good for him. He felt like you were too innocent, too pure to be bothered by him.

He was the resident fuckboy on campus, and there was no way that someone like you, someone that he had never seen at a party, or at any other social event, would want to be around him.

There’s no way that he’s anywhere near good enough for you. He thought that if he walked up to you and asked you anything, you’d scoff in his face and then walk away.

So, he doesn’t go up to you. He doesn’t talk to you. Doesn’t ask about your day, about your favorite subjects, about what your dreams are. And he sure as hell doesn’t ask you what he really wants to, for you to go on a date with him.

It had been a few weeks since you had seen him last, always making sure to get to class super early so you could sit closer to the front, not wanting to be too distracted in the classes that you had with him.

You have to admit, though, that you had spent many hours in your dorm room, debating on whether or not you should go out to one of the frat parties that you knew Tom would be at. Ultimately, you decided against it, knowing that you’d just make a fool out of yourself, showing up to a party in which you weren’t invited to see a boy that probably hasn’t thought about you since you gave him his receipt.

You had all but given up on him, realizing that the chances of ever even talking to him again was slim to none, and hoping for anything more than that was absolutely ludicrous.

So, pushing him to the back of your mind, you walked from your dorm to the library. For the first time in what felt like years, you didn’t search the faces that you passed by, you didn’t hope that one of them would be him, and you didn’t feel disappointed to not run into him.

You made it to the library just in time to say goodbye to your favorite librarian, Joan, before she left for the day. She wished you a good evening and then went on her way, shooting you a warm smile as you entered the rows of books that could all be used for reference on the essay that your English professor had assigned.

He hates essays. He really, truly does. He would rather do literally any other type of assignment than an essay. But here he was, walking into the library to search through numerous research articles just to find a sentence or two that he could use for his 5 page, minimum, essay that was due in less than a week.

He trudges over to the shelves, knowing which books that he needs to grab, but not really looking forward to doing so.

Right before he gets to the aisle he's about to wander down, he sees you. The girl that he’s been paying more than enough attention to since the day he walked into the coffee shop that he had never been to before. The girl he had been too scared to go up to and just simply talk to.

Until now.

He finally had a reason to go up and talk to you. He hated essays. He was complete trash at them. He always failed them no matter how hard he tried.

But you didn’t. You always did great on your essays. He knew you did, not because he was paying a weird amount of attention to you, it’s just that after he realized who you were, he started remembering some of the times that you had been there, but he just didn’t notice you. Some of these times were when every single time the professor would pass back essays, he would ask for yours back for ‘example pieces.’

So he cautiously made his way to you, walking slow to see if anyone was with you that would pop up. Thankfully, nobody did, so he walked the last couple steps to the table you had chosen as your study area and put his hands on the back of the chair opposite of you.

You look up and a wrinkle automatically comes between your brows, one that he can’t help but want to smooth with his fingertips.

“Can I help you?” You ask after he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just standing there.

“Um, yeah. I- you have Professor Stephens for English, right?” He tries to keep his eyes locked on you, but he can’t, can’t help but let his eyes wander over your features. The way that your eyebrows are furrowed and your forehead continues to be pinched, still confused as to why he’s here. The way that your cheeks seem to be a natural rosy pink. The way that your lips look so effortlessly full.

“Yeah, why?” He’s beginning to think that this was a bad idea. He had been right when he first thought it, there’s no way that someone like you could even want to be around someone like him. But it was too late to back out now, so he continued the plan that he had conjured up with the two brain cells that he had left.

“So, um, feel free to say no, of course. No pressure or anything.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Just, you see, the thing is, I’m awful at essays. I try my best and still fail, and every time we do one, the Professor always keeps yours for examples when he does them next year. So, basically, I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna help me write mine?”

You look taken aback for a moment before agreeing, nodding your head and telling him which dorm was yours.

“Um, do you maybe want me to give you my number so that you can text when you’re available?” You ask him, and he tries his best to not let his face light up too much, but he definitely feels his stomach flip at the thought, even though you’re not even doing anything but trying to make study plans with him.

He says a quick thank you and a goodbye before promising to text you the next day as soon as he was done with his frat duties.

Why you had agreed at all, let alone so easily, was a mystery to you. What could he possibly want out of this? Yeah, he seemed like he worked a lot harder and paid a lot more attention than the majority of the other frat boys, but he was still one nonetheless, which means that he had to be up to no good.

Did he want you to just write your paper for him? Was that why he was asking?

A small part of you wants to believe that maybe he asked you because he had been feeling the same way that you have been. But that’s crazy. He’s the most wanted frat boy on campus, there’s no way that he’d want anything to do with you.

He was just trying to get his paper done. Whether he was trying to get you to do it or if he just wanted help like he said, you weren’t completely sure yet. But you knew one thing, you had to clean your dorm before he came over.

You rushed back to your place, throwing things where they belonged and hanging up the clothes that you had neglected for days.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re freaking out so much, trying to get your dorm as close to spotless as possible. It wasn’t like you needed to impress him. You were a uni student. You weren’t expected to be perfect, to be spotless. Yet, you still felt the need to make sure everything was perfect for him.

And that’s when you remember the cute little cafe that you had been dying to go to. Every review said that it was perfect for studying, and that the food there was amazing.

So, when Tom texted you that evening to make sure that you had his number, you responded telling him that when he was finished the next day to shoot you a text and then meet you at the cafe.

You’re relieved when he agrees, that place being a lot less personal, a lot less intimate than your dorm room, making you feel much more comfortable.

The next day, he texts you around noon, telling you that he’ll be able to meet at two at the cafe that you had suggested.

He’s more excited than he should be, especially since this is just a meeting for you to help him with the most atrocious thing that English professors can assign. But he can’t help it, it’s you. He gets excited every single time that you glance in his direction.

He rushed back to the frat house, taking a thorough shower and picking out a nice button down and a pair of dark jeans. The outfit was nice, he dressed to impress, but not like he was going to a formal dinner or anything.

This was just a study session. Nothing more.

The thought wasn’t getting his emotions in check like it should. Hell, he shouldn’t even have any emotions going into it. He had talked to you a grand total of two times. He shouldn’t feel like he had been pining over you for an absurd amount of time when he had known of your existence for approximately a month.

He shouldn’t feel like he had been pining over you at all. He was Tom Holland, for goodness sake. He wasn’t the guy that caught feelings. Everyone knew that.

But there was something about you, something about the way that you smiled at him, that made him want to be better. Something that made him want to throw away his reputation and start fresh, to not be seen as the boy with a new conquest every day, to be seen as the boy that’s looking for a girl to fall in love with.

Could that girl be you? He has no clue, but there’s something about you that’s begging him to find out.

So, he makes his way to the cafe, taking enough time to not seem too eager but still getting there almost fifteen minutes early.

You were already there as well, though. You had been just as anxious, if not a little more. You had spent hours getting ready, making sure that you were perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. You also spent at least an hour getting your supplies together and then checking, and rechecking everything to make sure that you wouldn’t forget a single thing.

You had arrived at the cafe half an hour early, wanting to make sure that you were there and everything was in order before he arrived. You had half expected him to be late, leaving you more time to calm your nerves. Your expectations were proven wrong, however, when he walked up to the booth you were sat at nearly a quarter to the hour.

“Hey.” He greets, sitting down a notebook, a few writing utensils, and his laptop. “Thanks again for agreeing to help me.”

“Hey! It’s no problem.” You assure, not wanting him to think that this is a burden for you when you’d rather sit around with him and work on an essay than sit at your dorm all alone, especially since you had been so caught up in him as of late.

“So, um, where do you want to start?” And so began the study session that the two of you had been looking forward to. You got so lost in the material, explaining to him what certain aspects of the essay should pertain, letting him write a paragraph or two and then tweaking them slightly, allowing him to do the same, that you didn’t even realize that the diner was about to close until the waitress came to inform the two of you.

He looked just as surprised as you felt to see that the two of you had been there for almost eight hours.

You both said a quick goodbye and set a time to meet again to continue with the studying, the time conveniently being in a few days, giving you enough time to get most of your essay done so that you could focus on him more.

After he said his final farewell, he made his way down the street, heading back towards the frat house. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way that your smile has been permanently etched into his brain. How your laugh is the most precious thing that he’s ever heard, and he’ll continue to do everything in his power to keep you laughing as often as possible.

You’re not in a much better headspace, thinking constantly about the way that his smirk is overly annoying, but also so hot that you want to kiss it off of his face. How his nose is slightly crooked, but in a way that accentuates his features in the best way.

You had asked if he had broken it before, not being able to help your curiosity. This had left to him laughing, throwing his head back, and telling you that he’s had more broken noses than he could count. He’d been boxing for most of his life, and that’s just the kind of thing that happens, knuckles get bruised, noses get broken.

Something about that had made you swoon even more. The thought of him boxing got your heart racing. You had no clue why, you’d never been a fan of any form of violence, but something about picturing him in a boxing ring had your stomach tying in knots and your face heating up.

You fell into bed that night with a smile on your face, feeling more excited than you should have to see him again.

He laid awake in his bed, across campus from you, thinking of the same things. When he’d see you again, if your conversation would venture more towards each others’ personal lives instead of strictly on the material.

It’s safe to say that neither one of you got that much sleep that night.

The two of you decided to meet at your dorm room this time, seeing as how you had spent hours studying the time before and weren’t even done when the diner closed. This way, he could stay and study as long as necessary.

He was pacing around his room, three hours before he even had to leave for your dorm, trying to find out what in the world he should wear. He thought about asking one of his frat brothers, seeing as the majority of them had a pretty good taste in clothes, but he knew that they’d all take a dig at him if he had to explain why he was so worried about his outfit choice.

He wasn’t embarrassed of you, not in the slightest, he just didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that wasn’t even a thing yet. If you ever did agree to actually go out with him, though, he would take all the jokes and the comments from his frat brothers that he had to. He’d be too happy to care what they had to say, even if you only agreed to one date and then never wanted to see him again.

He ended up settling for a pair of black jeans and a hoodie, wanting to be comfortable for the long study session, but not wanting to look like a bum. You had also mentioned to him that your building tended to be a lot more chilly than others around campus, and advised him to either wear a sweatshirt over or to bring one with him.

Although he’d never admit it to you, there was a part of him that was already trying to figure out a way to get you to come to the frat house for the next study session. It was abnormally cool in the house as well, but he wasn’t planning on telling you that. If you didn’t bring one on your own sweatshirt, he would give you his.

Because, no matter what all the boys thought of him, or what he let his reputation get to, he was the kind of guy that yearned for the domestic things in life. For waking up next to the girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with. For waking her up with kisses and then making her breakfast. For her to be wearing his clothes and for him to be able to come up to her and randomly love on her.

He had never had the chance to be like that with someone. He had come to college, joined a frat, and thought that he had to be the guy that had a new conquest every night. And he had been completely fine with it, content even. Until he met you. And something about the way that you made him feel in the brief time that he was around you in the coffee shop made him realize everything that he was missing.

He was missing you.

And you were all he could think about anymore, because he wanted his life to be complete, and he knew that with you, it would be.

How you could be this intrigued by someone after literally interacting three times is unknown to you, but you had to admit to yourself that you are. You’re so intrigued by him that you find yourself thinking about how it would feel to fall asleep next to him, or how it would be to walk into the kitchen in the morning to find him fixing something and just wrap your arms around him without a care in the world.

You shake the thought from your head, realizing that there’s no way it could ever be a reality, so why fantasize about it?

What you focus on instead is the study session the two of you have in just a few hours. You had cleaned your room before the first session the other day, but you had been deep cleaning since last night, trying to make sure that everything looked decent and presentable. You didn’t want him to think that you were a slob.

You were glad that you had remembered to remind him to wear or bring something warm, seeing as today was one of the cooler ones in the building. The thermostat that you kept in your room reading a chilly 64 degrees (17 degrees Celsius). Why it was so cold in your building, leading you to dress warmly, only to go to a lecture where the room felt like you were sitting on the sun, you would never know, but you never complained or requested a dorm change because you genuinely loved the one that you were in, regardless of the temperature.

With a quick glance at the clock on your bedside table, you decide to get dressed. You put on a hoodie and a pair of leggings. You decided to just put your hair up in a bun. It was just Tom, after all. This was just a study session. Nothing more. There was no need to get all dressed up. It’s not like this was a date. You were just helping him with his English essay. Within the next week, this whole thing would be over and you’d probably never see him again besides in class, much less have an actual conversation with him.

“Hey,” you mumble as you open the door for him. You’re still slightly nervous about what he could be thinking.

Will he think your room is a mess? You had cleaned the entire place, going over everything at least three times, but the thought still crosses your mind.

Will he think that the amount of books you have in the oak bookshelf to the left of your bed is weird? Would he think you were too nerdy? Who were you kidding, he probably already thought you were a nerd, he had noticed how the professor asked to keep your papers. At best, he had to think you were the teacher’s pet or something. That’s probably why he even asked you to help him. He probably figured that you would put in a good word for him, that you would let Professor Stephens know that you had helped.

“Hey.” He replies, sounding almost as nervous as you felt. Could he possibly be? Why would he even be nervous? The only thing that you could think of that he could even be slightly nervous about is the impression that he makes on you, if you were impressed or not. He had no need to feel like that, though.

You wanted to tell him that, but you couldn’t. There was no way in the world that you could possibly just come out and say it, let him know that he looked great.

“So, where are we starting today?” You ask, trying to steer your mind back on the right path.

“Um, I was actually maybe thinking that we could just read over what we had worked on since last time, if that’s okay? And then give each other notes that we have if there are any?” You look over at him and see that his hands are slightly tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie, giving him cute little sweater paws.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You pull your eyes from his hands, walking over and plopping down on your bed, looking over at him expectantly.

He seems a lot more nervous than you had initially anticipated. He seems almost as if he’s scared to come sit next to you. There’s something about that thought that makes him seem even more endearing than he already was.

“You can come sit, you know?” You say, smiling at him to let him know that it was alright.

He gives a nervous chuckle that sounds more like a cough and you can’t help but to laugh along. There’s something about hearing his laugh that makes your chest feel a sudden rush of warmth.

He slowly makes his way closer to the bed, still approaching with caution and you can’t help the smile that’s glued to your face.

“So, what’s your story, Holland?” You blurt, not thinking about what in the world you were doing. You didn’t even stop to ponder the possibility that he wouldn’t want to talk to you about his life. There was still the completely possible idea that he actually only wanted to be around you to study. Although, you can’t help but have an itch in the back of your mind that keeps telling you that isn’t the only reason that he’s here.

“What do you wanna know?” He takes you by surprise with that, with the fact that he seems to be willing to tell you any and everything.

“Anything.” you breathe, watching him settle into your bed. You had situated yourself to where you were sitting against the headboard, and he shuffles to lay on his stomach, opening his laptop beside you.

“Well, um, where do I start, I guess is the question.” He looks over at you and you just give a shrug, so he continues. “I could just start at the beginning. I’m Tom, as you know.” He chuckles, running a hand through his chocolate locks, and you can’t help but follow the path that his hand takes through the tendrils of hair, over his neck, and back to the bed. “I have three brothers, all younger. Sam and Harry are twins. Sam’s really into the whole culinary thing, and Harry’s a photographer. They’re really good at what they do.” You can tell by the way that he talks about them that he's really proud of them. “Paddy’s the youngest, still can’t believe how big he is every time I see him. It seems like only yesterday he was a little baby that I could carry around everywhere.” The look on his face seems as if he’s guilty for leaving his brothers when he went to college, and you immediately want to assure him that it’s okay, but you don’t feel like it’s the right time.

“I’ve got a dog named Tessa, she seems to miss me a lot, gets really lovey and excited whenever I go back home for the holidays.” The smile that breaks out on his face makes your heart swell. “Mum and dad are still together, raised me right, taught me how to treat people and how to make the right choices. If we’re honest, I don’t think that they’d be too proud of who I’ve become.” he meets your eyes and gives you a sad smile, and you want to lean over him and envelop him in a warm embrace, but you don’t think that would be the best move.

“What do you mean, why wouldn’t they? You seem like a pretty good guy, Tom.” You’re not lying, you think he’s a great person. You see no reason why they wouldn’t be proud of him.

He chuckles, looking up at you and wondering if what he’s about to say next is the best thing to do, but he decides that he might as well. “I am a pretty good guy, when I’m around you. But when I came here and joined the frat that I did, I thought that I had to be a certain person.” He looks away from you, not wanting to have to see the way you’re going to react to how he really is. “And, for a while, I really liked who I was, you know? I thought that was who I was supposed to be, and it kind of felt right. The whole partying every weekend and taking a different girl home each time I went out thing was fun for a while. And then something changed. Something in my life shifted and I figured out that it wasn’t really that fun. That there were other things that I could do. I don’t want the reputation that I have.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair again, still refusing to meet your eyes. “I’m surprised that you haven’t heard about it. You’d probably run for the hills if you did.”

You chuckle, and his eyes immediately shoot to meet yours. “I know about your reputation Tom. I have since before I even agreed to help you.”

“Then why would you agree? You had to have known the kind of person that I was. There had to have been at least one person that warned you away from me.” He genuinely can’t believe that you knew about his reputation, about all the things that everyone said about him, both true and false, and still decided to be around him.

“Yeah, there were quite a few that warned me about you, but I don’t listen to what people tell me to do. And I definitely don’t listen to what people have to say about others. I like to find out for myself, which is exactly what I did, and I’m glad that I chose to do what I did. If I had listened to them, I wouldn’t have found out how great of a person that you are.” Without putting any thought into it, you reach down and run your fingers over his palm, letting him know that you’re there, that you know who he really is and that you don’t think what everyone else does.

He looks up at you, looking a bit startled, and confused, but he makes no move to pull away, just relaxes even further into the bed as you continue to trace random patterns into his hand.

“Hey, this may sound weird, but I haven’t been sleeping well lately, too nervous for my brain to shut down, so do you mind if we maybe, um, take a nap? Or maybe just me? I don’t know, I could lay on the floor or something, I just feel really calm right now.” A blush rises to his cheeks and you can’t help but agree, grabbing your stuff and placing it on the floor beside your bed.

“You can stay up here, Tom.” You murmur, not wanting him to be too far.

He nods an agreement, helping you shuffle under the covers before doing the same. You hear him sigh in content behind you and the smile that spreads across your face stays there as you drift off into the most peaceful sleep that you’ve had since Tom walked into the coffee shop.

Weeks passed, and you were still keeping up with the study session, you finding it a lot easier to get things done when Tom was around, and him still needing the occasional push in the right direction on certain assignments. You had both found that it was just simpler to stay study buddies than try to get through it on your own.

You had become a lot closer with Tom, the weeks spent together really letting you get to know one another quite thoroughly.

And, if you’re being honest with yourself, which you hadn’t loved doing lately, you had developed quite the crush on Tom. You suddenly saw what everyone would ramble about when talking about him.

He was sweet, caring, funny, and a lot smarter than he gave himself credit for. When you had told your select few friends about him, they had immediately warned you away from him, told you that he didn’t really need a study partner, he just wanted to get in your pants.

All those speculations had gone away, however, after you explained to them that you had gone the initial week without him trying to make a move whatsoever. At first, they had been surprised, but then you just ended up getting the occasional offhand comment about how it wasn’t all that hard to believe. “I mean, look at him and then look at you.” was one that was used quite a bit. And you hated to admit it, but it really got to you. So much so that you had decided not to make the first move yourself.

You had grown up being told that women could do anything that men could do, that it was okay to make the first move no matter what the situation was. But there was something about your so-called friends that made you question that in an instant.

Maybe they were right. They did seem to have all the ‘evidence’ that they needed. How could he possibly have the reputation that he had and not have made a move yet? The only plausible explanation was that he simply found you unattractive.

But then your brain would drift back to the conversation that you had shared a few weeks prior. He didn’t want to have that reputation anymore, didn’t want to be that guy. He wanted to be the guy that he was before starting college, before joining the fraternity that made him into a completely different person. He didn’t want to be the womanizer with a brand new girl in his bed every night.

Those thoughts set the peace back in your mind. Maybe he really was different. He certainly was around you, he had been since the very beginning.

You had made him want to be different, want to change and be known as the guy that wants to fall in love, not as the guy who wants to sleep with as many girls as possible. You changed it all for him and he couldn’t help but realize that he may be falling for you.

He had been completely enamored by everything about you since the moment that he had first laid eyes on you, and in the short time that the two of you had been hanging out, he had come to grow extremely fond of your personality. Of the way that you saw the good in everything and made him feel as if he wasn’t the crappy person that everyone assumed he still was. Of the way that you made every room brighter, no matter what.

He hadn’t felt as strongly as he did for you in as long as he could remember, and usually feelings would scare him, but there was a certain aspect of the way that you made him feel that took all the fear away, made him feel completely secure in admitting that he had feelings for you.

Not that he could ever admit them to you. No, he was nowhere near fearless enough to come out and let you know how he felt. There was no way that you could possibly like him back. There’s no way that you could have just ignored every bad thing that he had opened up and told you about. There was no way that anyone could love him despite all of that, let alone you.

You were sitting in his room at the frat house, typing away at a project that had been assigned for English, when he looks up at you. He studies your features for a moment, how perfect they all look. How the crease you get between your brows when you’re trying to concentrate makes you somehow even more beautiful than you already are. How the way your tongue sticks out and runs over your full lips makes you look almost angelic, how your hair frames your face perfectly, making him want to run his hands through it.

“We’re having a party here tonight.” He blurts, making you look up from the screen of your computer and give him your undivided attention.

“Oh, that’s fun, do you need me to be gone by a certain time or something?” You ask, slightly bummed that you may have to leave earlier than usual tonight. You’ve gotten used to spending most of the day with him and then going your separate ways at almost midnight every time that you studied together.

“No, no. not at all!” He spits, wanting to smack himself for being so bad with words. Of course he didn’t want you to leave. He wanted you to be around him as much as you were comfortable with. He could spend every day and night in your presence and never get bored. “I was actually wondering if, um, maybe you’d want to go?”

You almost chuckle, thinking how ridiculous the offer is. He knows you, knows that you’re not the girl that goes to parties, much less parties at the biggest frat on campus. You don’t laugh, however, because you see the hopeful look in his eyes. “I mean, I don’t know, Tom. I’m not exactly the party type, you know?”

He scoffs, “What makes you say that? Everyone’s the party type.”

You give a slight eye roll at that, “That’s not true. I’m nowhere near what would be considered the party type. I’m the girl that stays in her dorm or at the library studying, not the girl that goes to parties on the weekends and gets wasted.” You look down at your hands, realizing yet another reason why he wouldn’t like you. Why would he want to be with someone who’s never experienced that aspect of his life? “I mean, props to those girls that do that, it just isn’t me.”

He leans over towards you and hooks a finger under your chin, lifting until your eyes meet his again. “Please? I promise you’ll have a good time. I’ll make sure of it.” Your cheeks heat up at this, your mind immediately going to the gutter. You shake the thought from your mind, surprised that you would even think such things.

It’s not like you and Tom would ever do something like that anyway. He had explained to you multiple times that he didn’t want to sleep with people that he didn’t have feelings for anymore. He didn’t want the meaningless sex anymore. He wanted something that actually meant something. And even though it would mean something to you if something were to happen, it would be meaningless for him, so the chances of anything occurring if you agreed to go to the party was zilch.

So, you find yourself nodding, agreeing to go. He looks extremely shocked, like he had every doubt in his mind that you would ever say yes.

If only he knew how you felt, then he would have been aware of the fact that there’s no way that you could ever say no to that face, to the puppy dog eyes that he gives you when he asks for something that he really wants. And he hadn’t stopped giving them since the initial question had rolled off of his tongue, so he must really want you at that party, so of course there was no way that you were going to miss it.

Frat parties are weird. They’re kind of gross too, people spilling drinks everywhere, dropping cup after cup into other people and on the floor. You were glad that you had decided to not get dressed up, the room felt like it was a thousand degrees. You had settled on a pair of black denim shorts and a slightly cropped top that came down to just above your belly button, wanting to fit into the atmosphere without looking like you were trying too hard.

You had gone home around thirty minutes ago, getting ready before heading back. By the time you had returned, Tom was nowhere to be found, and you weren’t planning on actively searching for him. You’d let him do his own thing, and maybe catch up with him later.

Another thing you noticed, after pouring yourself a drink and settling against a wall near the corner of the room, was that frat parties are loud. Not just the music, that’s continuously playing, no breaks that would make people want to leave to do something else. There was something about the way that every song made the occupants of the party roudier and roudier. After a few songs had played, almost every person in the house was screaming along at the top of their lungs. So yeah, frat parties were loud.

As you scan the room, you realize that this could maybe be thrilling. If you had someone that you could have asked to come with you, if you had someone to dance with. You had a few friends, sure, but none of them would ever be caught dead at a party like this one. They were all like you, they’d rather stay home and get some peace on a Friday night than go out to a party.

Were you really like that though? The girl that you had thought you were before, even just three hours prior, would’ve never agreed to this much less be enjoying it.

The last thing you notice before joining the crowd, a girl grabbing your hand and leading you to dance with her, is that, just maybe, frat parties are fun.

He had been pulled into a game of pong by his brothers. He hadn’t even noticed that you were here yet, but the second he sees you dancing with a few girls that he’s never even seen before, all the air is knocked from his body. You look ethereal. The light sheen of sweat making the dim lights reflect off of your body, casting a light around you. The way that the strands of hair that have come loose from your updo stick to your forehead and neck make him want to fix it for you, run his hands through your hair, no matter how sweaty it would be, and redo the ponytail that you had been sporting.

There’s a churning in his gut, and at first he doesn’t realize why. But then it hits him, hits him like a freight train. He wants to be the one dancing with you. He wants to make you smile like you’re smiling at those girls. He wants to be the one that riles you up and makes you dance and have the time of your life.

So, without finishing the game, he makes his way to you, ignoring the questions and shouts to come back from the boys. He walks up to you without a care in the world and wraps his hands around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You tense up for a split second and he feels like an absolute idiot for just coming up behind you like he did, but then you lean back into him, turning your head slightly to the side to murmur a “Hey, Tommy.” into his ear, and his entire head goes blank.

Tommy? He could get used to that.

“Hey, love. You look like you’re having fun.” He fights every urge in him to not kiss into your neck, to not leave the marks that he’s been dying to for weeks on end.

“I am. I really never thought this would be my scene, but it’s a rush.” You giggle, still dancing to the music, his swaying along behind you, still holding onto your waist.

“Told you that you’d like it.” He breathes, still resting his face in your neck. You can feel his warm breath fan over the expanse of your skin and it sends shivers down your spine, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him, the smirk that you can feel appear on his face lets you know for a fact that he felt it. “Hey, do you maybe want to go upstairs? Take a breather?”

At this, you turn to face him, “Tom…” you say pointedly, knowing what people will think if you head upstairs together. You can already hear the things that people will say. “Is that the best idea? You know what people are going to say.”

He flashes the puppy dog eyes, and he immediately has you, but you can’t let him know that, so you continue to put up a fight. “Tom, the rumors aren’t going to be pretty.”

“I won’t let anyone say anything bad about you, darling. I don’t wanna do anything, just wanna take a beat, cool down, spend some time with you.” You smile, wanting to just give in to him, to let him lead you to his room that you’ve been in way too many times before, but you’re still a little worried.

“People are going to say things regardless of what you do. And it isn’t just me they’ll say things about.” He leans down, pressing his face back into your neck.

“Please? I really want to just be with you, I’ll fight anyone who says anything bad if I have to.” He promises, making your smile grow.

“There’s no need for violence, come on, let’s go to your room.” You finally agree, letting him take you by the hand and push through the crowd.

You slowly make the trek up the stairs to his room at the very end of the hallway, stepping inside and letting him close the door behind the two of you.

You flop down on his bed, laying on your stomach and looking around the room that you’d already scanned countless times before. The books on the shelf are calling out to you, but it’s not the time. This is a party, not a study session. You let your eyes roam again, landing on the family photo that you’ve admired more times than you would care to admit. He looks so happy, posing on a golf course with his brothers and dad, Tessa sitting at his feet.

“You’re gorgeous.” He blurts, not thinking of the consequences that could come from his words.

You can feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment, your ears beginning to burn. “Thanks, you’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

“Thanks, love.” He chuckles, and then the room falls silent for a few moments, your head resting on the bed, eyes closed and trying to get your heartbeat to slow down. He’s still standing by the door, leaning on his desk and playing with his fingers.

You continue observing the room, noticing for the first time that there was a little hole by the bathroom door. You wonder how it got there. Your brain is shuffling through a few options of how it could have appeared when Tom clears his throat and catches your attention.

You turn your head, locking eyes with him again and quirking your eyebrow, sending him the message to continue, to just spit out whatever he has to say.

“I walked into that coffee shop that day and ordered a coffee. I was in a hurry and I needed to make it to an important meeting at the house, but I saw you through the window. You looked so stressed, I didn’t just want to bombard you with yet another order, so I took my time by looking through the pastry cases, letting you have a second to breathe.” He pulls out the chair by his desk and plops down in it, looking too nervous to continue standing. “I strolled on over to the counter, ordered the simplest thing I could, and patiently waited for you to get it. I saw that you spilled some on yourself and wanted so badly to take your hand in mine and kiss it better. I don’t know why, it was just an urge I had.” He chuckles slightly, as if realizing how utterly ridiculous the action would have been if it had actually been carried out. “After that day, I couldn’t get your smile out of my head, couldn’t get the way that your eyes lit up to stop replaying in my thoughts.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking around the room before landing his eyes back on yours. “I looked for you for a while, asked about you, but to no avail.”

You chuckle this time, you’re not surprised that he couldn’t find you by asking around, you didn’t associate yourself with many people.

He flashes you a smile and then continues, “Everything about you makes me smile, I don’t know what it is about you, but you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I can’t keep you out of my head no matter how I try. You drive me crazy in the best way possible. I caught feelings for you. I feel so hard and that scares me to death at first.” He sighs, looking away from you again. “I don’t usually do the whole commitment thing, as my reputation suggests, but thinking about the things that I could have with you makes me want the commitment, makes me want to be domestic and lovey with you.Don’t get me wrong, it’s still terrifying.” He locks eyes with you again. “You just have this way of making me feel like everything’s going to be alright.” He cracks a smile before continuing with, “I think that the world could be ending and you’d make me feel like it was fine.”

You’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. Tom Holland, arguably the hottest, most popular boy on the entirety of campus is into you. And not only is he into you in the way that everyone had thought he would be, he actually wanted something real with you. He didn’t just want to have you in his bed for one night. The way that he was explaining it, he wanted you in his bed every night for as long as he could have you.

You have to take a second to catch your breath, his confession leaving you feeling as if you had just run a marathon at a full sprint.

Once you calm yourself back down, you let everything you had been dying to say fall out of your mouth. “That day at the coffee shop, all I needed was one thing to make me smile. I just needed that one thing to let me know that it was going to be okay. And then you walked in, and you didn’t just make me smile for a minute, you made me smile for the rest of the day. I looked for you too, searched every group of people I walked past. I didn’t ask anyone because I doubted anyone that I know would know someone that looks like you.” You chuckle awkwardly, trying not to put too much thought into what’s coming out of your mouth. If you did you would immediately psych yourself out and that’s definitely what you needed.

“I caught feelings too. I really tried not to, if we’re being completely honest with each other. I never thought that this would be me.” You look down at your hands, playing with the silver band that you keep around your finger. “I didn’t think that I would be that girl, you know? The girl that falls for the cute frat boy, even though they were repeatedly told to avoid him.” You smile despite yourself, still twisting the ring mindlessly. “I fit the cliche perfectly, don’t you think? The nerdy girl with barely any friends that meets the boy that needs a little help studying and then falls for him.” You scoff at how predictable the whole thing was, it was almost laughable. Honestly, it was, and you’d be laughing along if it wasn’t your life.

“But the thing about it is, I was fine with being that cliche. I was fine with falling for the boy I’m not supposed to because it wasn’t just any boy, it was you. And I haven’t been able to get your stupidly perfect face out of my head since the minute you wandered into the shop. I can’t stop thinking about holding your hand when I see you tracing seemingly random things with your fingertips. Can’t stop myself from wanting to lean over and kiss you every time that I’m helping you study and get a little pouty because you want a break but we’ve only been working for like five minutes so I say no. Can’t stop myself from thinking about how sometimes we nap together and wake up tangled in each other's arms, and how we could do that every day.” Your cheeks begin to burn at the things that you just let slip out of your mouth, but you’re quickly distracted by the embarrassment as you feel the bed shift under Tom’s weight.

He settles in beside you, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over your knuckles. You look up at him, wanting to see his reaction to what you had just said, and as soon as you see his face, you’re floored.

He has the biggest smile splayed across his face, and you can’t help but mimic his expression, glad to see that he wasn’t repulsed by what you had to say. Which, honestly, it wouldn’t make that sense if he was, but there’s always a possibility.

“Y/N, I know we haven’t known each other for that long, and yeah, we’re definitely the cliche, but would you maybe wanna be my girlfriend?” Tom asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

You want to say yes. You really do, more than anything in the world, but your voice of reason is asking you why someone in him would really want to be with you. Sure, he said that he didn’t want to be that guy anymore, but that’s literally who he is. Why would he really just throw all that away all of a sudden?

“No offense Tommy, but you’re not exactly serious boyfriend material, and I’m the girl that wants to have a serious boyfriend, to have a relationship that’ll last. I want to be able to take my boyfriend home to my mom and dad. I don’t just date for the hell of it, Tom. I date for real.” You say, fighting an internal struggle with yourself. So much of you wants to just say yes, but he has to know what you want in a relationship. “And don’t freak out when I say this, because a lot of guys do. But, really, if you’re not dating someone to see if they’re the person that you’ll spend the rest of your life with, why are you even dating them? That’s how I view relationships.”

“I get that, it doesn't freak me out. I used to be like that, used to want a serious relationship.” You give him a look, the way he’s wording his sentences not helping his case. He gets the hint and rushes to continue what he was saying. “I just lost myself here, but being around you made me realize that the part of me that wants to be in a serious relationship, that wants to be domestic was still in there.” He’s getting more nervous by the second, you can tell by the way his fingertips are tracing patterns into your hand. You give his a quick squeeze in reassurance. “I don’t expect you to believe me right now. Honestly, I wouldn’t believe me either if I were you, but I’ll prove it to you. I’ll show you that I can be the guy that you want. Screw my reputation, forget what everyone thinks about me. I just need you by my side, I don’t care what anyone else has to say.”

You smile, feeling your chest swell with his words. There’s not a single part of you that doesn’t think he could prove it to you, so you don’t hesitate to agree.

“Fine. prove it to me Holland, and then I’ll think about being your girlfriend.”

Ever since that night, he’s been even more perfect than he already was. He really meant it when he said that he’d prove it. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t show you that he could be everything that you need and more.

He walks you to class from wherever you had spent the night before. If you had slept over at the frat house, he would let you shower there and wear some of his clothes if you hadn’t brought any of your own with you - or if you just wanted to wear his clothes - and then he would walk you back to your dorm so you could finish getting ready. If the two of you had slept in your room, he would always make sure that he woke you up by nuzzling into your neck, then letting you get ready while he checked to make sure you had everything you needed for the day.

Once you were ready to head out the door, he’d grab your stuff for you, slinging your bag over his shoulder and either grab your hand or throw his arm over your shoulders. He’d walk you all the way to class and then leave you with a kiss on your cheek.

During those that you have together, though, he walks in and you sit near the back. You moved where you normally sit so that he can whisper in your ear during the lectures without bothering anyone else. You had ended up needing to invest in a voice recorder so you could catch the content and listen to it later.

The classes that you shared that took place in the early mornings were by far the worst, for you anyways. He seemed to not have a problem with getting up at the crack of dawn to get ready. But no matter how tired you were, he was always there to make sure that you were well put together. And, after he ensured that the voice recorder was on and running, he would let you lay your head on his shoulder and get a little more sleep.

On the nights that you’re not too worn down from classes, he’ll take you out to dinner. He always lets you pick the restaurant and then takes you to a new scenic destination to watch the sunset.

You still spend a lot of your time at the library, still having to study even though you’re spending a steadily increasing amount of time with Tom. Any time that you need to sit at the library to study, he’ll tag along if you want him to, even if he doesn’t need to study. He’ll sit across from you, knowing how you like to have an ample amount of space to spread out your materials, and read a book.

Even when you didn’t go out anywhere, just stayed in and spent time with each other, everything was perfect. Everything was completely perfect.

And what really took you by surprise was the fact that he didn’t even seem like he was trying very hard. It seemed like acting like this with someone that he cared about was just second nature. It was really pleasant, knowing that if you did say yes, it would be like this all the time.

One of your biggest fears going into this was that he would be perfect until you said yes and then completely change, do a full one eighty and make you regret your entire decision. But the way that he acts comes naturally to him that you don’t have a doubt in your mind that it will stay the same if you agree to date him.

A few weeks later, you’re sitting on his bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone as he sits at his desk, working on another essay. You had finished yours a few hours prior, so you were waiting for him to complete the rough draft so you could read over it.

“Yes.” You blurt, not thinking to elaborate.

“Hmm?” He wonders, not even looking up from his laptop, fingers still clicking away at the keys.

“Yes.” You say, a little louder this time. His fingers stop moving, coming to a rest on his keyboard.

“What do you mean , love?” He asks, not wanting to get his hopes up as to what you could be talking about.

“I’ll be your girlfriend.” He jumps up from his chair, a smile breaking across his face. He bounds over to the bed and picks you up, spinning you around and planting kisses all around your face.

You giggle, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip to no avail. After a few moments, he lets you down. He clambers onto the bed beside you and puts a hand on each side of your face, smooshing your cheeks.

“I love you, in case it wasn’t obvious.” He says, looking at you like you’re the reason that his world spins.

“I love you too, Holland. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” And it’s true, although you’d only known him for a span of a few months, he had completely changed your life.

And suddenly, you’re really thankful for a busy day at the coffee shop.

Permanent Taglist - @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @akila-stilinski @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart, @slytherinambitious, @miraclesoflove @tomshufflepuff, @quaksonhehe, @a-different-brand-of-beans, @dummiesshort,

Tom Holland Taglist - @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts, @thorsangel, @perspectiveparker, @sucker-09, @tom1year, @averyfosterthoughts, @the-crazy-fanfictionist

People who wanted to be tagged in this piece - @sleepybesson, @xoxohollands

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

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Ectober Day 26: Aim - Would You Like Some Bullets With That, Sir?

Vlad would absolutely have a few people who want him extra dead and maybe one or two actually willing to try. Too bad that doesn’t really work when the guy’s already half-dead. In fact, it does pretty well nothing other than provide mild amusement. Danny gets more of a kick out of it than the billionaire does though.

Danny and Vlad were having a decent walk and talk, a decent bonding experience. Surprising, he knows. But one of the key words there was ‘were’, because of course him and Vlad can’t be getting along without pissing off the universe.

Danny had been pointing the straw of his green tea matcha Frappuccino, with more than a couple espresso shots mixed in, at Vlad; trying to explain the nuances of food-related puns, because if he’s going to influence one thing it’s going to be Vlad’s tendency to use foods as swears. Vlad wasn’t exactly being receptive but hey, neither was Danny on the whole ‘etiquette’ lessons the man was trying to give him. But all that got interrupted when a big ass stereotypical white van pulled up with a screech and the doors slide open to a dude with a fucking machine gun. Well fine, handheld Gatling gun is more accurate but sounds a little less cool; besides it’s still technically a machine gun. Which is, in Danny’s opinion, massive fucking overkill. Vlad would be inclined to agree.

Needless to say, they get shot. A lot. Repeatedly. It’s very loud.

All the bystanders around physically pause, stunned a bit stupid that this was happening in Amity of all places not to mention rather desensitised to violence; regardless everyone starts booking it because, y’ know, big ass gun. Vlad actually crouches and moves to cover his head while flashing angry red eyes, he’s dealt with a fair few assassination attempts but in broad daylight? Really? He’ll give them a few points for having the guts. Danny meanwhile, is way too used to getting shot at to even react beyond just standing there at first, before glancing at his cup -which is draining all its contents through the holes onto the road- and grumbling a bit. The gun man stops when Danny bends over and starts laughing though. Even Vlad gives Danny some concerned looks as Danny waves the gun guy off with one hand on his knees, “sorry! It’s- it’s just! Just that! No ones ever-ever shot me! Shot me with a real- real gun!”. Danny sits on the ground and continues laughing while effectively bleeding out of multiple holes as flesh starts moving to slowly repair itself; which clearly the men have noticed and are scared shitless by, as both he and Vlad can feel, see, and smell the fear coming off the truck.

Vlad huffs, stands himself upright and goes about brushing off and inspecting his suit. Huffing again and turning to the van, crossing his arms, “I do believe you owe me a new suit, young man”. Someone inside the vehicle chokes. Danny thinks that’s a pretty reasonable reaction here. But there’s literally zero fucking point of them acting human here, because fuck they were both riddled with bullet holes and their blood was very literally splattered around the ground. Might as well scare these assholes a little.

Hence why Danny sticks a finger in one of the larger holes due to multiple bullets going through the same general area and giggles, “huh, that tickles”, and grins meanly at the driver who looks absolutely disturbed and too far into shock to try driving away yet. Though thinking of it, Vlad might actually try to kill them; tit for tat was absolutely Vlad’s primary go-to in any situation. Hence their arguably insanely prank wars. So Danny stands up and promptly launches himself inside the vehicle, knocking over the man with the bloody machine gun -seriously, how is that not overkill- and landing with his feet on the guys chest. Danny’s pretty sure the guy wet himself. Which, ew, but understandable.

“Okay I’m feeling nice because this is absurdly hilarious and would qualify as some ridiculous ass overkill for normal folks. Kinda pointless against immortals though, dontcha think?”, turning his head to look at Vlad -who’s quirking a single well-groomed eyebrow while his eye goes about repairing itself- through the door, “what do ya think?”.

Vlad walks over calmly and humming, “well I’ll give them points for accuracy, they hardly damaged the surroundings at all. Which I find I can appreciated since that avoids me having to make yet another dip into the damages funds. And I’ll be generous and give another point for dramatics; board daylight, middle of the city, biggest high-powered rapid-fire weapon anyone’s ever aimed at me, the sudden loud noise. Why I’m almost impressed. But I do find the overall end result to be rather lacking”. Vlad kicks one of the front tires hard enough to puncture it while the driver starts scrambling and fumbling to attempt at driving off. The psssssh sound the tire makes actively increases the smell of fear filling the van. Understandable, these guys had effectively just lost their getaway vehicle.

Danny chuckles, “aww, looks like someone’s not going anywhere anytime fast”, Danny grins meanly and flashes his green eyes. The guy passes out. “Ah damn, he passed out”, shrugging, “eh, hopefully he’ll think this was just some bad dream”.

Vlad hums as he climbs in, ecto-beaming another guy in the head to knock him out. Huh, guess Vlad’s really truly genuinely chilled out some in the evil villain department. “Yes that would be preferred, Daniel. I take it Phantom will be delivering these men to the jailhouse after having shielded the mayor and a young boy at the last second”.

Danny snorts as he gets off the gunman and kicks the driver in the head; the guys head bouncing off the steering wheel and obviously knocking him the Hell out. “Obviously. And hey, why not say Phantom healed any injuries to boot. Not like anyone’s sure about the power set of that spooky bastard”, and smirks. Talking about himself like a different person was arguably not necessary right now, no one was around after all, but hey it was kinda funny.

Vlad nods, riffles through the mens’ pockets and pockets all their cash. Which Danny rolls his eyes at, “old bank robber habits die hard?”. Vlad rolls his eyes, “hardly. This is simply to repay me for the damages. This was a nice suit I’ll have you know”. Which Danny rolls his eyes right back at him over while Vlad hops out of the vehicle, looks around, readjusts the remaining scraps of his suit, and saunters off; grabbing a surprisingly intact handkerchief from a definitely not intact pocket and starts dabbing blood off his face, hair, and hands. Danny’s not going to question why the man doesn’t just phase it off or reabsorb it into his body again.

Danny closes the vehicle doors purely to attempt at not transforming directly in open view in the middle of the street. Grabbing up the three guys before pausing and deciding eh why not and telekinetically floating the freaking machine gun onto his back and making that invisible. Flying off through the vehicle's roof.

Danny unceremoniously drops the men on the jailhouse floor, “gotcha a present. They tried to unload, like, a bazillion bullets into the dear ol’ mayor”.

Officer Jay sighs, “we were getting some calls about a shooting? But with regular guns”, motioning a few other cops to drag the guys away.

Danny chuckles and nods, “try machine gun”, the cop almost chokes while Danny continues, “not that that is particularly effective on intangibility”.

The cop looks him over, obviously noticing the healing bullet wounds here and there. Healing however many bullet holes takes time you know! “Obviously you weren’t quite fast enough”.

Danny shrugs, “eh, blowing a bunch of holes in a ghost doesn’t really do much other than make a mess. Mayors cool though”.

“That’s... good”, Jay shakes his head, “well, we’ll take care of these guys and I doubt they legally had a machine gun. You didn’t just leave that out in the street did you?”. Danny waves the guy off nonchalantly, “Fenton was there too, took it as his plundered booty”, he makes a point to make that last bit sound pirate-like. The cop sighs and rubs his temples, “so there’s a seventeen-year-old running around with a machine gun”.

“Yup”, absolutely popping the ‘p’.

Danny easily hears the guy mutter, “somedays I would really like to quit”, before looking back to him, “well that family has every weapon license known to man, so I’m not even going to bother. Have a good day and a fulfilling afterlife”. Danny salutes with a cheeky grin before phasing up through the roof.

Sam and Tucker don’t so much as blink from Danny suddenly appearing from around a corner and barging in-between the two of them, “hey guys, some guys left me a little present”

Both give a mildly interested and slightly worried, “oh?”. Which is fair, Danny has described getting a taser stuck in his leg as ‘a present’ before.

He grins a bit psychotically, makes the gun visible, and whips it around to be holding it in his hands, “a machine gun!”.

Sam slows her pace slightly, just enough to no longer have a freaking mini-gun pointed at her stomach, “that’s nice Danny”. While Tucker looks much more excited, “Holy frick that’s awesome. Where’d that come from though?”.

Sam sighs, “or more specifically how and why. Ghosts don’t exactly use human weapons and ‘some guys’ is vague as shit”.

Danny chuckles, because that who ordeal was still stupid funny. “Curtsy of one poorly informed assignation attempt in dear ol’ uncie Vlad”.

Tucker blinks, “wait, someone actually tried to assassinate him”, then pauses, “wait no, of course someone tried to assassinate Vlad. He’s Vlad”. Making all three chuckle while Danny fiddles with the massive ass barrel.

All three grin viciously when they spot Dash and co. across the street. Danny deciding to yell, “hey Dash!”, and easily tilting the machine gun up due to, y’ know, super strength, and fires off a bunch of bullets into the air; extending his intangibility to the bullets of course so that they don’t actually hit anything and forming some ectoplasm ‘round his friends' ears so he doesn’t, like, blow out their eardrums or some shit.

Dash stares at him a little bug-eyed before scowling, sticking his arms out to the side, and shouting back, “I haven’t bullied you in a year! Why you still giving me vague ass death threats!”.

Danny cackles, aims the gun to shoot the sign over the assholes head, and riddles it with bullets, “it’s payback bitch!”. Sure Danny would never have done that if he wasn’t absolutely certain his aim was so fucking flawless that there was zero chance of him hitting anything other than what exactly he wanted to. And sure, maybe he swirled some invisible ectoplasm around the bullet trajectory too but no one needs to know that. Dash predictably staggers back, flips him off, and books it down the road.

Danny lowers the gun with a chuckle, “that was fun. So worth getting shot a few times”. Sam blinks at him and looks more than a little not impressed, “you actually got shot, Danny”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “what, in any world, would make you think I didn’t get shot”. Sam just huffs, obviously having no argument for that. Because yeah, Danny always got shot or stabbed or electrocuted or set on fire or a lot of other things.

Tucker shakes his head, “and yet you look totally fine”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “Tuck, what can a regular ol’ bullet do to me”. That gets both his friends to blink and give him disbelieving, “wait, they weren’t even ecto-bullets”. Tucker shaking his head with a laugh at Danny’s nod, “wow, whoever really did, like, zero research”.

“I know right. We scared them real good though”.

Tucker laughs a bit more, “never before have I actually wished to be at a shooting”, shrugging, “first for everything”.

“Amen to that”, Danny emphasises that statement by smacking the gun.

End.

40 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

Nonnie, this is quite possibly one of the funniest prompts I’ve ever received. I actually, legitimately laughed out loud when I read it, and I definitely had to find the original post to read it all. Not gonna lie, I’m totally rooting for that poor girl.

I hope you enjoy this version of such a crazy little tale 😘

on ao3 | here | if that’s more your style

-/-

Her back is absolutely killing her. There are bones in positions they are definitely not supposed to be in, and she has to wonder where the hell David and Mary Margaret got their couch. Emma secretly thinks that when she asked them if she could come stay with them for a few weeks – days, weeks, months, who the hell knows at this point – they got rid of their old couch and replaced it with one that they found on the side of the road that’s full of extra springs and the smallest amount of cushion stuffing on the planet.

David and Mary Margaret are too full of kindness to do something like that, but she knows that if her sister – if she had one obviously – called and said she lost her job and her apartment and needed a place to crash for a little while, she would definitely make the stay as uncomfortable as possible.

If the couch crasher isn’t comfortable, it means they won’t stay as long, right?

It’s July, and she’s been on their couch since the end of April. So much for that theory, obviously. But hey, at least she’s not stuck still living with Neal because if she had to sleep in the same apartment as her cheating douchebag of an ex, there is no guarantee that she wouldn’t murder him in his sleep.

Small blessings and all.

Emma raises her arms above her head and interlaces her hands together, stretching her body out and loosening up her limbs, before she moves her legs and starts running. She’s never been much of a runner. She always thought it was some kind of voluntary torture. Back in Boston, she had a kickboxing gym she went to every day, but there’s not one of those in Storybrooke. There’s one gym here, and it’s got out of date equipment that definitely aren’t cleaned every day. There’s no way she’d ever pay for that when she’s already short on cash to begin with.

So running on the beach it is, even if it makes her calves feel like they are legitimately on fire.

There’s no one on the beach this morning. Sometimes tourists will get here early and mark their space with their chairs and their umbrellas, but today, it’s blissfully empty so that she can run up and down the sand without being bothered. Music blares through her headphones, and it propels her forward every time that she wants to quit. She’s never been one to want to stare at the ocean and soak in its beauty. It’s never calmed her, but now, when her days are spent going between having a bad back, serving drinks to people who don’t know how to tip, and wondering if her life is always going to suck this much, she thinks that the ocean isn’t that bad.

It’s calm and beautiful, and right now, it’s as blue as the…what the fuck?

Emma stops jogging, sand kicking up around her, and her breath escapes her as she squints and looks out onto the ocean past the pier.

Is there…is there someone out there?

About forty, fifty feet out in the water, there’s some kind of floating figure. She can’t really tell from here, but it looks like there’s a man floating on his back, his head tilted backward.

Oh shit.

This area has been full of scuba divers this summer, but they’re usually in groups and only go in the afternoon with some kind of instructor. This guy – or girl, she can’t really tell right now because she doesn’t have her contacts in and can’t see that far away – must have been a dumbass and gone on his own.

Her stomach is heavy, like it’s full of wet sand, and when she looks around, she’s reminded that there’s no one around.

Shit, shit, shit.

This isn’t what she’s trained to do. She’s not even technically trained to do anything. She’s only really ever worked in food service besides her boring as hell office job in Boston, and none of that would have ever prepared her for something like this.

“Oh, what the hell?” Emma mumbles to herself as she pulls her tank top off before tugging her leggings down, kicking them off with her socks and shoes. She drops her phone and her headphones into her shoes. She’s in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of underwear that literally has little animated penises on it from Mary Margaret’s bachelorette party, but that doesn’t really matter when this guy (girl) might be dying.

The water is cold when she first dives in, and salt gets up her nose so that her throat is itching, but she manages to swim out to the water as quickly as possible. Now that she’s closer, she can see that it’s definitely a man, and Emma closes her eyes as she closes the final strides and reaches for him.

When she opens them, he is staring directly at her, blue eyes blown wide in what she can only assume is confusion.

So, he’s not dead. That’s good to know.

“Are you okay?” Emma blurts out, salt water still in her mouth that she hacks up.

The guy nods and slowly removes his regulator and his mask. One eyebrow raises before they both furrow together. “Aye.”

Great. He thinks she’s a lunatic. She probably is.

She just tried to save a man from drowning when he wasn’t actually drowning.

This is all Mary Margaret and David’s fault because they own the most uncomfortable couch in existence, and she obviously is suffering from poor decision making because of a lack of sleep.

“I thought you were dead!” Emma explains as she starts treading water and hopes that a shark doesn’t show up any time soon. That would really be the cherry on top of her day. “But you’re obviously not dead.”

“No, love, I don’t think I am.”

“What’s going on here?”

Emma stops treading and dips under the water before she rises back up and sees another guy floating a few feet away. As she looks around more and more keep popping up, all of them deadly silent, and if she had any air in her lungs right now, she would scream.

What the hell has she just walked…swam into?

And then, when she comes to her senses, she realizes that they’re all laughing at her.

The bunch of assholes.

(She probably deserves their laughter, but she won’t admit to that.)

“Alright, alright,” the non-dead guy says, raising his hand in the air, “leave the lady alone. She is a real savior, okay?” He flashes her a pearly white smile and nods back to the shore. “Do you want to go back and get away from these assholes?”

What she’d like to do right now is drown, but there seems to be none of that going around today.

“Yeah, I would. I don’t need you to take me back though.”

“Good because I’m not going to. I’m simply going to happen to be swimming to the shore at the same time that you do.”

Emma nods and then turns around and starts swimming back. He stays at her heels while his friends whistle out words she’s ignoring behind them, and while Emma considers herself to be in good shape, she is not a swimmer. The adrenaline from her run and from her not-so-daring rescue are wearing off, and she can feel her breathing getting heavier and heavier. Is the shore getting further away? That would be impossible.

“You’re so lucky you weren’t actually dying back there because there was no way I was going to be able to drag your sorry ass back to shore.” He chuckles, and she cuts her eyes back at him. “I’m glad you find this funny.”

“I find this hysterical, love. You need a tug to shore?”

She does, but there’s no way in hell that she’s going to accept that.

“Absolutely not.”

Eventually, after what feels like ages, she steps foot on solid, if sandy, ground, and the early morning air nips at her skin as she emerges from the water. She tries to shake it off while walking toward her clothes, but she knows that there’s no way that she could possibly get her leggings back on.

That would be torture of an entirely different kind.

Holy shit. She’s wearing underwear with cartoon dicks on them.

This day could not get any worse.

Except when she turns around, she sees the guy stripping out of his gear, only the wetsuit left on, and this is the first time she gets a really good luck at him. He’s trim, like he spends a heck of a lot more time swimming than she does, and he’s got dark stubble across his jaw that she imagines would feel fantastic brushing against her skin. His eyes also seem to be bluer now, and she definitely didn’t think that was possible.

Okay, so maybe her day could get worse.

Or a little better.

Then she watches his eyes tail down her body, just for a moment, but it’s long enough that she knows that he’s noticed her unfortunate choice in underwear.

“So, do you go about saving people every morning or is this just a one-time thing?”

“Definitely a one-time thing since all of my effort was apparently useless.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. That’s the most entertainment me and the boys have had in weeks. I don’t think we’re going to forget about this for a long time.”

Emma nods and bends down to get her tank top. She pulls it over, and it immediately clings to her skin. So much for getting a little coverage. “You lead that boring of a life then? All diving all the time?”

“Lately, yeah.”

“Is that so?”

He shakes his hair out and runs his fingers through his locks, and she is not distracted by that at all.

(She is definitely not thinking about the fact that she hasn’t had sex in several months.)

(She just embarrassed the hell out of herself in front of him, so that shouldn’t even be a though going through her mind.)

(Even if these were normal circumstances, that wouldn’t be a thought that went through her mind this early in the morning.)

“We’re training for diving school for the Navy,” he explains. “We’ve got a few weeks off that we’re spending up here for the incredible diving spots, but then we’ll be in Florida for four months.”

“Well, I hope you won’t need any saving while you’re there.”

“It won’t be you, so I’m not sure that it’d be quite as enjoyable.” Emma rolls her eyes, and she has to try her hardest not to let herself smile. That was a bad line. She will not smile at it. “Killian Jones, by the way. And you are?”

“Emma Swan.” She reaches out to take his hand to shake, but instead, he pulls it up and brushes his lips across the back of her hand, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s nice to meet you, Swan. You wouldn’t happen to know a good spot around here to get a beer, would you?”

Emma looks down at her feet, kicking them in the sand, before she raises her head and smiles. He’s flirting with her. She just embarrassed the hell out of herself, interrupted a military training exercise, and he’s flirting with her.

What’s wrong with him?

“I actually work at the Crab Shack down by the pier. Don’t let the name fool you. There is only a small possibility that you’ll get crabs if you shack up while there.”

Okay, what is wrong with her?

Killian cocks his head to the side and chuckles as a water droplet falls from his hair and streaks down his face. Why is that so distracting? “I’ll see if the boys and I can stop by tonight. You know, to celebrate the woman who saved me.”

“Alright, alright,” Emma laughs, holding her hands up and bowing her head. “I get it. I’m never going to live this down.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

-/-

David and Mary Margaret are both at work when she gets home, so she thankfully doesn’t have to explain her appearance. Her heart is still racing and her clothes are still soaking wet. Her leggings were pretty much impossible to get on, so she walked through the streets of Storybrooke in nothing but sneakers, a tank top, and dick-covered underwear. She takes a shower and tries to wash away the embarrassment of the morning. She never thought that she was one to embarrass easily, but she guesses that was not some kind of normal situation.

Why is she such an idiot?

Is this just a new low point in her life?

She’s not working until after lunch, and while she would usually take this time to clean up around the loft to show her appreciation for David and Mary Margaret for letting her crash here, she doesn’t do that. Instead, she spends a ridiculous amount of time trying to decide what to wear to work, like she’s not going to wear her regular cut-offs and a tank top. That’s exactly what she puts on, and if she decides to add a lacy bralette, well, that’s just because all of her other bras need to be washed.

Eventually, she heads to work, clocks in, and starts helping to serve the few tables and the people at the bar. It’s pretty slow, though, and when there’s only one guy in a booth in the corner, she tells Ruby about her morning.

Considering Ruby literally starts choking from laughing so much, Emma thinks maybe that wasn’t her best idea.

“You were wearing the underwear from Marg’s bachelorette party?”

“It was clean! I have to do laundry!”

“This is the best thing to ever happen to me,” Ruby laughs, leaning forward and resting her face on the countertop before she pops back up with wide eye and a wolfish smirk. “Wait. Did you say that he’s coming here tonight?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that why you have on mascara?”

“I wear makeup sometimes.”

“Rarely.” Ruby places her hands on her hips, and okay, maybe she definitely shouldn’t have told Ruby. She probably wouldn’t have noticed the Navy guys coming in. “Oh, is he cute? Are you going to sleep with him? Is that what’s up with you looking slightly put together. Emma Swan, have you gone and found yourself a man in the most ridiculous way possible?”

“I am not going to sleep with him.” Ruby raises her brows and then winks, and all Emma can do is shake her head. “He’s in the Navy. He’s about to go to Florida for four months and then who knows where? What would even be the point?”

“That sounds like the perfect excuse to sleep with him. There are no strings attached, and I’m sure he knows that too. I mean, you’ve got to get over that douche eventually. Why not do it with a hot guy who is going to leave, no strings attached?”

She’s only known Ruby from when she’s come to visit David, but they’ve managed to be pretty close friends over the last few months. Ruby is fearless and crass, and there’s never anything holding her back. Emma often wishes she was like that.

The girl is right, unfortunately, not that Emma would admit that to her. She would never shut up about it.

“He’s probably not even going to show, Rubes.”

-/-

He shows.

His entire crew doesn’t. It’s just him and two guys named Robin and Will, and they all settle down at a booth, ordering burgers and drinks and taking the piss out of her every time she brings them something. Will is the main culprit, and she’s pretty sure that he’s the one who scared the shit out of her earlier by silently popping up out of nowhere.

It’s weird seeing them all out of their gear and in their civilian clothes. Killian is in a pair of dark jeans that hug his legs – not that she was staring or anything – and a short-sleeved gray t-shirt. A tattoo peaks out underneath his sleeve, and she’s curious as to what it is.

She’s not going to sleep with him, though. That’s not…that’s not happening.

“So, I have to ask,” Ruby says after Emma’s been chatting with them on and off for an hour, “did you manage to get a good look at the panties this girl had on earlier?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t, love,” Killian tells Ruby before looking at Emma and winking.

Oh, she might be in trouble if he’s going to do things like that..

“Really?” Ruby asks, disappointed.

“I’m afraid that I was too busy being thankful to be saved to pay any attention to what my savior was wearing.”

“I call bullshit on that, but whatever. You really missed out too. They were the greatest pair of panties in existence.”

Little by little, the bar fills up with people, mostly tourists, but a few locals come in. Will and Robin start talking with a few guys they happen to know, but Killian comes to sit at the bar across from her where she learns that he’s originally from California but that his dad was in the military growing up and they moved around a lot. His mom was British, and they spent the majority of his early years in England, which explains the slight accent, and he has an older brother who lives in Denmark with his wife. At twenty-four, he’s only three years older than her, and he says that he got a bit of a late start to being in the Navy, messing around too much and not knowing what the hell it is he wanted to do with his life.

Emma gets that more than he could probably ever know. She’s literally sleeping on her brother’s couch and working in a place called the Crab Shack.

They don’t even sell crab most days.

He gives as good as he gets with being teased, and she finds that he’s always quick to give back an insult or a jab whenever one comes from Ruby or from his friends.

Or from her.

It’s easy talking to him, laughing and sharing a drink and some fries, and as the night goes on, it’s even easier to forget that she hasn’t flirted since Neal and that the man smiling across from her was the witness to one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.

Killian kisses her against the wall in the hallway that leads back to the bathrooms and the storage closets. It’s dark, the music from the bar dimmed, and the only thing she can focus on is the warmth of his mouth and the expert sweep of his tongue as chills scatter across her body before warming her everywhere, from her toes to her cheeks but especially in the pit of her belly. She hasn’t been kissed like that in quite some time, if not ever, and getting lost in it is as easy as anything she’s ever done.

She doesn’t sleep with him, though.

She desperately wants to, aches for it really, but he mutters something about being a gentleman, which she protests against, but he reassures her that he is, indeed, always a gentleman.

Making out with her in the hallway of a bar doesn’t really allow that theory to hold up, but she guesses he’s going to play the gentleman card.

He promises he’ll be back, though, asking her if she’s working tomorrow, and when she says yes, he kisses her again and then walks out the door.

-/-

Killian comes back the next day.

And the next.

And the one after that.

And then he asks if he can see her outside of work, take her on a proper date or something, and the only reason Emma says yes is because she knows this is temporary. He’s going to leave soon, so it’s okay for her to get to know him and laugh with him and make out with him in the backseat of her car until her lips are kiss-swollen and every part of her is flushed.

It’s okay for her to get to know how he likes his burgers and what his favorite drink is and that the tattoo on his arm is in honor of his mom who passed away five years ago. She learns more about his brother and his apparently shitty dad, just as she tells him about David who he apparently had some kind of run-in with on his first night in town, and little by little, she starts to know all of these pieces of this man she never should have met.

If she were a romantic, Emma would say that this is like something out of a movie, a summer romance that passes by in montages full of laughter and good times. She’s not a romantic, though. She knows that this is the real world where things don’t work out like that, but even so, the weeks pass by, and when she goes to bed at night, she finds herself thinking of blue eyes and a kind but mischievous smile.

Oh.

Oh, okay. Maybe she’s gotten herself in too deep of waters without knowing the way out, and this time, there’s not going to be some idiot running along the beach who dives out into the ocean to save her.

Despite her thoughts starting to attack her, her heart aching even when she tells it to stop, she continues to see him whenever she can. And a week before he leaves, they manage to find a time when no one is home but the two of them, and while she doesn’t intend for it go that far, once his lips brush across her neck and liquid heat blazes over her skin, there’s no stopping them as they shed their clothes.

“No dick-covered underwear today, love?” Killian whispers against her bare stomach as he kisses her in such a way that her stomach ripples.

“I’m afraid those have been retired.”

“A pity that.”

They don’t talk much for the next few minutes, not more than curses and instructions and repetitive words of pleasure, and as her heart races while Killian drives her absolutely mad with his movements, it also aches, the ticking time bomb she wants liked suddenly something she’s dreading.

She likes him.

Honestly, truly likes him.

He’s kind and funny and has a mouth on him that matches hers in curses and in banter. He asks her about her day and listens to her when she talks, which Neal nearly never did, and while she finds that what’s between them is physical, there’s something more underneath the surface, so damn close to breaking through.

When he leaves, she doesn’t want to say goodbye. She’s never been particularly good at those, but Killian still comes to the bar, sits with her at the counter likes it’s not his last day, and when he has to go, he takes her hand and pulls her outside, the wind whipping around them and the smell of salt permeating the air.

“There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

Emma nearly makes some kind of sarcastic quip, but instead she leans up on her toes and slowly glides her lips over his, savoring the softness and undeniable warmth of them one last time.

“Good.”

-/-

Emma wakes to a text the next morning.

KJ: So, I have some time off in January. Do you think I could take you to dinner?

ES: I think that could be arranged. I don’t know if I’ll recognize you all bundled up to live through Maine’s winter weather.

KJ: I’ll bring a red rose, just in case.

Emma rolls over on the couch and buries her smile in her pillow.

ES: I am looking forward to it.

-/-

Emma sees Killian for the first time – FaceTime not included – on January third, four months and a week after they said goodbye. He’s standing outside her apartment – one she shares with Ruby, each of them with their own, actual bedrooms – dressed in his Naval dress uniform with a red rose in his hand.

His hair is shorter, his usual stubble a little bit more trimmed, his skin tanned, and even with his uniform, she can see that his shoulders are broader than they were this summer.

“Hi,” Emma whispers. She thought she was yelling it, but it definitely only came out as a whisper. “You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow.”

He cocks his head to the side, smile bright, and God, she has missed that smile. “Ah, well, you see, I had an opportunity to see the woman I love one day sooner, and there was no way in hell I was going to pass up that opportunity.”

“The woman you love, huh?”

“Aye.” He steps closer, and it takes everything in Emma not to tackle him to the ground. “She’s this fiery lass who is beyond brilliant and witty. And, I’ll have you know, that she is so brave that she’ll dive into the ocean to save a drowning man. Would you happen to know anyone like that?”

Emma rolls her eyes and closes the distance between them. It was once 1,500 miles (she may have looked it up), but that is no longer. And it feels damn good. “I might have an idea where you can find her.”

“Good,” he says, her own word from so long ago echoing back to her, before pressing his lips to hers in a deep, slow kiss that feels like it never stopped.

She has never been so thankful for David’s shitty couch and how it inadvertently led her to this.

#the one where emma goes underwater #cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

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snarkwrites · 3 years

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02 | upside down; steve harrington

Notes:

I suck so bad. I meant to post these before I left to go on my little trip and life got hella busy. But, I didn't get around to it. BUT BUT.. I am now. They're not really that edited, so yeah. I was happy with what came out, despite this turning out to not be a slow burn type thing at all like I originally wanted. So for all those hoping for a slow burn, oopsies?

OH.. And before I forget, chapters one, two, three and potentially four take place BEFORE the actual series starts. ;P

Summary:

She moves back to Hawkins and manages to turn his life completely upside down. In the best of ways.

But how will everything play out between them? Also, can they handle all the weirdness ahead? We shall see.

Warnings:

LOOSE CANON COMPLIANCE AT BEST, TOTAL DEVIATION AT WORST - this is just an up front catch all because sometimes, things happen that I don’t particularly care for (the senseless death of Barb, anybody?) and if you’re one of those canon only people, this is here to warn you that this is not the fic for you. LANGUAGE, OCCASIONAL GORE, MONSTERS / FANTASY ELEMENTS, TEENAGE DRAMA AND SHENANIGANS - Obviously, teenagers are going to do stuff. They’re at that point in their life where not every decision they make is the best one. So if you’d rather skip over this kind of thing (teen drinking, fighting, etc) then yeah.. you’ve been warned. THIS IS NOT A SLOW BURN, I REPEAT NOT SLOW AT ALL / EVENTUAL FILTHY GOOD NESS - because lets be real.. we’re all wondering when we’re gonna drop the plot and get to the good stuff. When this chapter occurs, I will flair it with an M. In the meantime, if you’re not into slow burn or mutual pining, then you’re probably not going to care about this.

Other Parts

[ SOUNDTRACK | part one]

Other Stuff

[ FAQ - TAG LIST DOC ]

Tagging:

There’s nobody on my list yet but… If you wanna be tagged for this, tell me pls. It will make me overjoyed.

Throwing out a no pressure tag to @RAMPAGEWRITING and @TWISTNET as well as @CHASINGEVERYBREAKINGWAVE just because. No pressure though bbies!

TWO.

Monday came with no sign of Steve. Then Tuesday. By Wednesday, I felt like I was about to lose my mind. Still no sign of him.

It was now Thursday afternoon. And honestly, I’d put the whole thing out of my head. Started to convince myself that I’d been right about Steve Harrington and his intentions after all. Nana Ginger had gotten Jonathan to come and help out by bussing tables in the dining area for an hour or two so I could go over the books for her with no interruptions. When I caught sight of Steve’s silver BMW pulling into the parking lot, I was perched atop the counter in the gas station doing just that.

With Billy Idol blasting quietly from a little boombox nearby.

I raised a brow when instead of coming in like usual, Steve wandered around back. Out to where Nana's boyfriend Hank was working in bay 3 of the garage behind the place.

“Oh. Oh no. Steve, why the hell…” I muttered to myself. Sitting the ledger to the side as I tiptoed carefully to the door that lead out into the garage from the front of the buildings attached. I pressed my ear against it, trying to listen.

All I could really make out was Hank laughing out loud. And Steve asking what was so funny about what he’d apparently asked. Then Hank telling him verbatim, that he didn’t know if he could trust him as far as he could throw him while pointing out that he’d been a teenage boy once too and that he knew exactly where this was all heading.

My breath caught in my throat. I waited on Steve to offer some form of rebuttal. Seconds later, he finally did. “ You’re actually completely wrong about me, sir. With all due respect.”

“If you can get her to say yes to a date in the first place, kid, by all means. But if you hurt her, you’re not gonna have anywhere to hide. We clear, kid?” Hank said this as loud and as plain as day. Clearly enough I could hear it completely through the door separating the two areas.

Steve muttered something else I couldn’t quite hear and in a mad scramble that had Jonathan nearly doubling over in laughter, I was trying to perch myself back on top of the counter at the front of the gas station. Balancing the ledger on my lap. Trying to force myself to concentrate on running numbers.

My reading glasses started to slip down the bridge of my nose and swearing, I pushed them back up. Eventually taking them off to unfocus my eyes and give them a little relief from strain. Jonathan spoke up from nearby.

“Hear anything interesting just now, Jen?” he gave me a teasing smirk and I grumbled, playfully flipping him off as I gave a soft smile. I nodded. “Yeah. I guess I have to at least consider saying yes to Harrington’s constant asking me out. I mean… takes a brave guy to talk to Hank.”

“You’re definitely not wrong there.” Jonathan muttered, chuckling quietly. Digging around in the pocket of his apron and tossing me a cassette tape. Smirking. “I made it during the countdown last night.”

“Oh?” I turned the cassette over in my hands, smiling. “I’ll put it in right now, give it a listen while I’m doing the rest of the books. Hey, do you need somebody to give Will a lift to Mike’s on Saturday?”

“If you don’t mind?” Jonathan asked.

“Not at all.” I grinned, adding quickly, “I’m supposed to drop Dustin Henderson off there too. Figured since they’re going to the same place and I’m gonna hang out with Nancy for a while, why not?”

“Thank you.” Jonathan gave a grateful smile and an idea kind of formed. I smiled and mentioned casually, “Ya know, Jon.. If you really want to thank me.. You could talk to Nancy sometime.”

Jonathan eyed me with a raised brow. I held out his mixtape and added, “She loves The Clash.”

“Really?” his brow raised.

“Just take my word for it, Byers.”

“ You’re sure you don’t mind me giving her this?”

“Why would I? I told you to, silly.” I laughed, shaking my head. Jonathan was being called to the back dining area again by my Nana, so he hurried off and I stood, stretching. Slinking down the aisles of the gas station, over to a cooler.

I grabbed myself a Diet Pepsi and dug around in my pocket for the money to put in the register to cover it. Once I’d popped the top against the counter, I settled back on top of it, getting back to balancing the books.

I heard a throat clearing from the doors about ten minutes later. The smell of cheeseburger and french fries wafted straight to my nose, making me groan quietly as my eyes fixed on Steve and then promptly lowered to the grease stained brown paper bag he held in his hands as he grinned at me, nodding to the glasses perched on my nose.

“Fuck.” I scrambled to take them off. Steve stepped into the gas station completely, walking towards me. A teasing gleam in his eyes as he shook his head. Stopping on the other side of the counter, in front of me. “You don’t have to do that, Jennie. I’ve seen you wearing glasses before, remember? The red framed ones you had in kindergarten.”

I cringed, laughing a little. Leaning in slightly. Gazing at him almost helplessly as the bits of conversation I’d overheard between him and Hank out in the garage earlier replaying in my head.

Remembering that tonight, if he asked me on a date yet again, I was going to say yes. And not just because of some silly dare given to me by Barb and Nancy. Because I couldn’t keep fighting Steve Harrington off the way I had been if I wanted to, to begin with.

I was leaning closer where I sat. It occurred to me when Steve chuckled quietly. Stepping between my legs, the way they dangled over the counter on his side. He sat the grease stained paper bag to the side and he bit his lip, gazing up at me.

“Your grandma told me to come and drag you out of here. She told me to tell you not to worry about waiting the tables, she’s trying to help Jonathan get some extra cash on the side. She also said don’t argue.” Steve flashed me another one of those charmer grins and I swallowed hard. My mouth opened and closed for a second or two because I just couldn’t think of anything clever to say. Weird, because normally, I have plenty to say. Constantly.

Out of habit, my fingers drifted up to the dainty cursive nameplate that hung on the silver chain around my neck. I toyed with the lettering as I pretended to mull it over, just to be slightly difficult.

So I could feel better about giving in when I inevitably did.

“C’mon, Jennie.” Steve pleaded. Eyes locked on mine. Gaze dropping briefly to my lips and lingering there just long enough that I could feel my breath when it caught in my throat.

I finally managed to get my mouth and brain working in tandem and licking my lips as I gazed at him, I muttered quietly, “It’s Jen.”

“Maybe I like Jennie better.” Steve leaned in just a little. A teasing gleam in his eye and a flirty tone to his voice as it dropped lower. Quieter.

And when Hank’s throat cleared from the door between the garage and the front of the building, I wanted to puddle into a pile of goo in the linoleum tile.

“Interruptin somethin, Jaybird?” he asked the question so casually.

Steve looked like a deer in headlights. He pulled away just a little and despite myself, I pouted.

Satisfied that he’d interrupted things between Steve and I, Hank smirked a little, dragging an oil stained hand over shaggy brown and gray hair. Gazing at us both. Giving Steve that universal gesture that clearly spelled out “I’m watching you, kid.” before going to a cooler to grab himself a six pack of beer, counting out the correct change in bills and coins and handing them to me.

I grabbed hold of Hank’s hand. “Nana is gonna have a fit. I know that’s not super glue I see holdin skin together, sir.”

“It is, Jaybird. Because if I don’t get that damned Chrysler off my lift, I’m gonna burn her to the ground.”

“Oh Hank.” I shook my head, clucking my tongue at him. Digging around for antiseptic and a bandage, holding it out to him expectantly as he withdrew his hand. He chuckled and shook his head. “It’ll be fine, kid.” he waved away the antiseptic and the bandage and made his way into the garage area again, making me shake my head.

Taking the time to pull myself together decently enough that I wasn’t a stammering mess when I glanced at Steve again.

“C’mon. Please?” he asked again.

I tapped my chin, pretending to think about it. Slipping off the counter. By this time, he’d stepped in close all over again, so me slipping off the counter had us body to body. His hand settled in the curve of my hip and I barely restrained a gasp.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll leave with you.”

He grinned brightly. Holding the door open for me after I clocked out and placed my timecard in the slot with my name on it. I ducked my head into the dining area and my Nana’s only response was to smirk and wink at me. Shooing me out of the diner.

“Get her outta my hair, kid!” my Nana smiled as she called out to Steve, who was standing right behind me. His hand at my lower back. The second I realized this, I could feel myself burning up all over. Just the simplest touch.. Felt comforting. Intimate. And me, being of dirty mind, well.. Me and my dirty mind, we took that and ran.

Jesus Christ, of all the times for my hormones to manifest, it’s now? When I’m trying to break 2 prior generations of questionable romantic choices? I wanted to shake my head at myself. I reminded myself calmly that just because my Nana and my mom did the things they did, that didn’t mean I had to cave in and repeat. I am my own person, after all. And apparently right now, that person is giddy with… Thoughts.

“Gladly, ma’am!” Steve called back, laughing.

He pushed open the door and we stepped outside. When he opened the passenger door, I sank down into the seat, leaning back against it a little. Steve wandered around to the driver side, getting into the car. Starting it.

“Where are you taking me?”

He chuckled. “ I think you’ll like it.”

“Steve.” I pouted, “A hint?”

“It’s outside.” was literally all he’d tell me.

“Well that really narrows it down.” I teased with a laugh.

He parked at this old park we all used to play at after school. Just as the sun was starting to go down.

We got out, wandering over to an old picnic table. Sitting on top of it, digging around in the bag for our food.

“So.. That dumb carnival is this weekend. Starts tomorrow night, I think.” Steve hinted after a few minutes. I nodded to where carnival workers were already setting up a midway a few feet away from us. Taking a bite of my burger, I mentioned casually, “I thought about going. But Nancy’s grounded again and Barb’s got that date with some guy Logan.”

“You could go with me.” Steve chuckled as he said it.

I smiled, taking another bite. “I could.”

“Would you?” he asked a few seconds later. Adding quickly, “Tonight isn’t a real date. Tomorrow. That would be.” flashing me that charmer smirk.

I nodded. Smiling as I spoke up. “ Yeah. I will. Hey… since I don’t have to go back to the diner…” before trailing off and gazing down at my legs . Reminding myself to have boundaries and restraint. But all the mental reminders in the world just weren’t cutting it. At all.

He reached out, curling his fingers beneath my chin. Making me look up at him. “What were you going to say, Jennie? You can tell me.” he coaxed. Biting his lip as he gazed at me intently.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go swimming with me. There’s this little place out by my Nana’s out in the woods I go to swim…” I gave a soft laugh. I had to laugh at myself, it was pretty much all I could do.

Look at me. Going overboard.

“Yeah.” he nodded, smiling. We finished our food, and after, we wound up driving around a little. And about an hour later found us walking through the woods. Well, he was walking, glancing around warily, swatting at spider webs that he almost walked into a time or two and I had hold of his hand, practically dragging the poor guy.

We stepped out onto the sandy bank and he chuckled. Dragging his hand through his hair as he gazed down at me. “We don’t have suits or towels.” he mused, stepping closer to me. Staring me down all over again. I could feel my breath as it caught in my throat because if you want me to be honest?

I hadn’t thought this through properly. And was now freaking out silently. Just a little bit.

But I did my best to shove that out of my head and play it cool and calm. I went for turning it around on him, hoping to fluster him like his observation had flustered me just now.

“I know Mr. Lady Killer’s not worried about somebody seeing him in his Calvins.” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him. He chuckled. Going for his shirt, tugging it over his head. Letting it settle on a branch nearby without tearing his eyes off me for a single second as he did it.

“Did that look worried to you, Jennie?” he muttered, stepping closer. His hand at my hip as he gazed down at me. Waiting.

I cleared my throat, gesturing for him to turn around. He did, but as he did so, he joked that I was the one who was worried. Which to me, sounded like a challenge. So I tapped his shoulder so he’d turn around after lowering my shirt.

He eyed me, a brow raised.

“Challenging me, Steve?” I questioned, giving him an amused laugh as I reached down, tugging my shirt up and over my head. Letting it settle on the branch next to his polo shirt.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath and muttered something to himself, closing the distance between us. His hand settled on my hip again and he laughed quietly. Leaning down a little bit so that we were face to face, his forehead against mine and one of his hands cradling my face.

My heart was pounding. Hard and fast. So fast that I thought it might break out of my chest. I went to lick my own lips and my tongue brushed against his mouth. His fingers dug into my hip lightly and he muttered huskily, “ I see you still can’t turn down a dare, Jennie.” only half teasing. I shrugged, biting my lip as I gazed up at him. Trailing my fingers over his chest mostly just so I could ignore the way my hands were shaking and I was wet, getting wetter by the second. I glanced over my shoulder and nodded at the water. “If we’re going to swim, we should get in.”

Steve cleared his throat, nodding hastily. Stepping away, bending to tug off his sneakers and nearly tumbling over in the process. Making me giggle softly as I pulled off my boots. When my pocketknife and my mom’s old lighter fell out, he eyed me and then nodded to the items on the ground.

“A knife?”

“A girl’s gotta be prepared.” I shrugged it off. Steve tugged down his jeans and while I told myself I wasn’t going to peek or stare, I wound up failing at this miserably and got so distracted watching him that he was able to turn around my own words on me as soon as he kicked his jeans free at the ankle.

“If we’re going to swim, Jennie… we should get in.” he gave me a playful smirk as he said it, stepping closer all over again.

My hand shook as I lowered it to the button on my cut offs. As soon as I’d shed those, I took off for the water full speed. Nearly tripping on a stump in the hill leading down to the water. Steve’s arms shot out and he caught me, pulling me back upright. Pulling me hard enough that when he did, I found myself pressed against him completely.

He chuckled quietly, raising a hand. Pulling a leaf free from my hair.

“The water’s not going anywhere, Jennie.”

“I know.” I answered, my breath catching in my throat when our mouths brushed against each other’s just a little more with each word spoken. His fingers dug into my hip a little more and he took a shaky breath, asking the question quietly, “If I kissed you right now…”

My heart was hammering away in my chest but I managed to answer, “I dare you, Steve...No… I triple dare you.”. The hand he’d placed on my hip was tangled in the hair at the back of my head, pulling my mouth all the way against his mouth. His tongue swept out, outlining and then parting my lips. Massaging my tongue. Slow. Deep. Savoring the moment, even after we both clearly started to get light-headed from lack of actual oxygen. His hand moved up and down my body, settling on my lower back. Pulling me up to tiptoe slightly. The kiss broke long enough for both of us to properly breathe and then his mouth found mine again.

When it finally broke completely, Steve dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. Taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah.” he chuckled to himself.

I raised a brow. “Hm?”

“That was exactly how I thought it’d feel.” he mused, adding quietly, “Wow.”

My stomach churned and I tensed up a little. He chuckled, shaking his head. Placing his lips against my forehead. “It’s not a bad thing. Not at all. I mean.. It wasn’t for me?” he was the one who looked anxious now.

I muttered quietly, “ I definitely wouldn’t mind a repeat. A few repeats, actually, if I’m being honest.” while still quietly reeling from the intensity of it all. Melting myself against him, my fingers dancing slow over his chest. He sucked in a breath, catching hold of my hand. Tilting my chin so that I had to look up at him.

“You’re blushing.” Steve was teasing gently. Rolling his thumb over my bottom lip, leaving it quivering.

“I’m not!” I pretended to be offended by what he said, pouting a little. But I knew I was, I could feel my cheeks burning hot. I stepped away and turned my back, taking off at a run down the hill. Hitting the cool water with a loud and obnoxious splash. Steve dove in behind me, swimming over. Surfacing behind me and pressing against me from behind. I turned to face him and when he splashed me and dove out of the way, I sent up an obnoxious spray of water in his direction, making him yelp because he hadn’t been expecting it.

After about an hour of swimming around and walking the creek down further, we made our way back up to the bank, flopping onto the sand.

My restraint was well out the window by now. If I even thought for a second I was going to fight off the magnetic pull I felt to Steve, I was mistaken and I knew that now. I settled my head on his shoulder and he looped an arm around me, and we lounged around lazily, watching the sky get darker and darker.

Talking. A lot.

I realized that it had to be getting late and I sprang up, holding out my hand. Steve grabbed hold, pulling himself up. After we’d gotten redressed, we wandered up the hill and out of the woods, over to where he’d parked his car at the end of my nana’s driveway..

When he went to walk me up to my front door, we wound up body to body. My arms raised, settling around his neck. My back met the front door and he pulled me into another long and drawn out deep kiss that had us both breathless when it broke.

“Kind of don’t want tonight to end.” he admitted as he gazed down at me. I nodded, definitely agreeing. “Me either.” I admitted quietly, muttering the words against his lips. The porch light started to flicker like crazy and I smiled into the kiss, wiping my mouth as I finally managed to pull away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Steve asked, reminding me that I’d agreed to go to the carnival in town with him. I smiled and nodded. Pausing in the doorway of my grandmother’s house to steal another quick kiss before finally making myself go inside.

I leaned against the door, pulling myself together and my Nana called out from the kitchen, “Well? How did it go, Jennie Bird?”

I wandered into the kitchen, sinking down in a chair at her kitchen table. Smirking at her as all I did to answer her endless stream of questions was to shrug.

“You’re no fun, girl. No fun at all. I wanted to hear juicy details.” my nana reached out, pulling a leaf from my wet hair, holding it at me, smirking as she did so. “Any reason you’re all wet and dazed, bringing half the forest up in my house?”

“We went for a swim down at the creek.”

“Mhm.” my nana teased, laughing softly. “I know you’ll use your head. God knows one of us Brown women needs to, neither me or your mama, god rest her, could ever manage it.” she nodded to the phone on the wall by the doorway. “Might wanna call Nan and Barb. They’ve been calling all afternoon, wondering where you were. They both told me tell you they wanted full details.”

“No listening from upstairs, Nana.” I teased as she shrugged. “Makin no promises, Jennie Bird. You know me. I’m a nosy old broad.”

I grabbed the phone and managed to make the cord stretch to the living room, where I sprawled out on the old couch, legs over the back, telling Nancy and then Barb everything that happened that afternoon.

At one point, while I was talking to Nancy, I smiled to myself when she went into a good ten minutes of gushing over Jonathan walking her home from the library earlier. And giving her a mixed tape.

To be fair, it’s about time he finally talked to her. I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to shove them both in a closet and walk away.

“So… how’d it go with you and Steve tonight?”

“So many sparks.” I gave a dreamy sigh as I spoke, making Nancy laugh. Toying with the necklace and smiling softly to myself as I continued, “ Between you and me? I needed the dip in the cold water…”

“You went swimming?”

“Mhm.” I answered, taking a deep breath. “He’s taking me to the carnival downtown tomorrow night.”

“Oh my god. Get out. Really?” Nancy laughed.

I rolled onto my stomach, twisting the phone cord around my fingertip. Laughing softly as I explained exactly what transpired when Steve showed up at the diner earlier. By the end of it, Nancy let out a low whistle. “He really sacrificed himself to Hank.”

“Mhm. Left me with no option but to say yes. We know how my nana’s boyfriend is. It takes… a brave one to even attempt that.”

“Confession… I may or may not be meeting Jonathan at the carnival tomorrow night too. And Barb mentioned earlier that she’s going to come to it after the movie ends over at the theater, with Logan.”

“Group date?” I asked, giving a giggle. Raking my fingers through my hair as I reached for the Diet Tab I’d gotten myself before grabbing the phone, taking a sip of it.

“Yes. Group date indeed.” Nancy answered. I could hear her mother yelling at her to hang up, and I let her go, calling Barb.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you are not going to believe what happened to me this afternoon, Barb.”

“Your nana told us you left with Steve earlier. How’d that go?” Barb asked in a teasing tone. “I told you he liked you, you realize this, right?” she added.

“All I’m saying is I needed that swim to cool me down. I needed it badly.” I giggled. Agreeing reluctantly when she reminded me that she’d been telling me he liked me all month long. I rolled onto my back, twisting the cord around my fingers again. “Hey, are you and Logan gonna stop by the carnival after your movie?”

“Yeah! Did Nancy tell you? I told her to tell you so we could all meet up or something.”

“I am dying for funnel cake. And maybe getting stuck at the top of the Ferris Wheel like some cliche romance novel…” I muttered, giving a soft laugh at the end.

“Aww how cute!” Barb teased.

I took a few more sips of my diet Tab and smiled to myself. Excited about tomorrow night. Barb spoke up again, “Wait… you said you and Steve went swimming…”

“We did.”

“What was that like?”

“Oh, it was interesting. Very,very interesting.”

“You’re no fun girl!” my Nana’s voice cut through the call and I groaned inwardly, lowering the phone to call up the stairs to my Nana in her room, “Seriously?”

Barb was laughing. After my nana hung up, we talked a little more and I told her about Steve going out to the garage. WIth all the tools. And my nana’s boyfriend Hank… to ask him if he could take me on a date.

“He did? And he’s alive? How?”

“I don’t know, actually. Hank’s always giving him shit when he comes into the diner, I did not see it going the way it did. But.. I’m glad it did. Ah, I had such a good time tonight.”

“He’d better be good to you or I’m coming for his knee caps.” Barb teased, going quiet for a few seconds. Her mom must have come to her door to tell her she needed to use the phone, because she had to get off. After I ended the call with her, I wandered up to my room, falling across my bed.

What.A.Night.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagines #my writing ; steve harrington #my fics ; steve harrington #my fanfics ; steve harrington

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all1e23 · 5 years

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Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun [One-shot]

Summary: The past is never where you leave it.

Warnings: Some fluff. A bit of angst. Protective Bucky

A/N: I’ve had a lot of you ask about Dot and if she ever comes back (What would happen, how would they react and this has always been the way I saw it in my head). This takes place roughly 5 months after the epilogue. If you have not read it THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS. Some angst but also sweet Bucky and lots of fluff between Ori and Beck.

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

Wednesday is Y/n’s longest day and lately, she is having trouble making it till closing. Thankfully, she has two very loving worrywarts who decided that Wednesdays would be a family day at the bookstore. Bucky picks up Ori from school and from there they head to the bookstore where they order takeout and the two worriers help take some of the workload off her shoulders. They handled restocking the shelves, inventory if needed and Bucky usually had her in the back office on the couch by seven while he cleaned up and closed down.

It was currently just shy of five so they should be barreling through the door any minute and couldn’t come at a better time. They weren’t busy by any means, just one customer that’s been browsing the shelves for thirty minutes but her feet are killing her and she wants nothing more than to her two favorite people.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” A soft feminine voice grabs your attention and you look up from your computer. “This was in that large red chair in the back of the store. I wasn’t sure if someone left it behind or…”

The dark-haired woman held up a drawing of constellations and flowers floating all together and a galaxy printed marker case. Y/n knew just who that belongs to and it certainly wasn’t lost -- those markers knew they were home. She grins and takes the piece of cream-colored construction paper from the woman’s hand and the bag of markers, setting them on the shelves under the cash register.

“I’m sorry about that. That’s my daughter’s favorite spot in the shop. She likes to sit there and read when she comes in and as you can see, color.”

The woman laughs and rubs a hand over her stomach. "I guess I better get used to finding markers in my couch cushions. When are you due?" She nods towards Y/n’s very obvious baby bump. Y/n smiles down at her belly, placing both her hands protectively over her bump and she looks back up at the woman with a glowing smile.

"February, 26th but I have a feeling they will be early. What about you?”

"April 10th. It goes by a lot faster than you would think, doesn’t it?”

The bell on the front door rings before Y/n could answer and a blur of curly hair rushes through the shelves and right into the back office where the owner of all those curls deposits her backpack with a huff and the arm full of books she was carrying hit the desk with a resounding thwap.

“Mama, daddy said I can order pizza for dinner. Is that okay?” Ori shouted from behind the glass window separating them.

Y/n smiles at the stranger and sighs fondly. “That would be the owner of the markers. Excuse me just a second.”

She walks over (more like waddles) and stands in the doorway so she can keep a watch on the floor and still see her daughter’s sweet face. “Of course, starlight. Yes, you can call and you don’t have to ask. You know where the menu is. My phone is in the locked drawer upfront. Just make sure you get two cheese pizzas and the extra cheesy garlic knots.”

“Okay!” Ori beams up at her and adds, “and brownies?”

Y/n laughs as Ori skips out of the office and over to the front desk with the key in hand. She climbs up onto the stool that’s in front of the computer and unlocks the drawer that holds Y/n’s phone, purse and keys while she’s working in the store alone. Y/n follows behind her and brushes her curls out of her face so she can place a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, brownies are fine and you left this in your chair?" Y/n raises her knee, letting them bump into the drawing and her box of markers.

Ori grimaces but is still smiling because she's rarely in trouble for anything and most certainly would never be in trouble for anything as silly as leaving her drawing laying around the bookstore.

"Sorry. I meant to hang it up next to daddy's calendar so you can look at it all the time.”

"It's alright, starlight. Just try to remember next time. You would be upset if someone took one of your masterpieces by mistake and I don’t want you upset.” She tickles Ori’s side, making her giggle and asks her daughter, “ Speaking of daddy. Where is he at?"

"Outside on the phone with Uncle Stevie about work or maybe baby Oliver. He said Uncle Stevie needs to stop whining because Uncle Sammy doesn’t find that cute anymore now that they are married and have a baby.”

Y/n snorts and the woman that was talking to her a few minutes earlier is standing behind the register unable to control her own giggling. Ori blushes at being caught by a customer and looks up at her mother who nods, letting her know it’s okay and she skips off back to the office to call for pizza, Y/n’s phone in hand.

"She's adorable." The woman says as she sets the books down on the counter and Y/n grins in response. She grabs each book from the small stack she picked out and starts to scan each book, placing them into the new paper bags Ori helped her pick out.

"Yes, she is. She really is the greatest kid and thank you."

Y/n starts to notice a trend with her purchase. Each book is about parenting. She has Birth Without Fear, Becoming the Parent You Want to Be, The Motherly Guide to Becoming a Mama and a few others. Normally, Y/n would just scan books and not say a word. It isn’t her business what her customers are buying and she never wants to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Maybe it is the pregnancy but her heart hurts for her. This woman is obviously scared about motherhood and her ability to be a good mother.

“It’s seventy-three even. You can insert your card there.” She chews her bottom lip and holds out the bag. “I know it’s not my place and believe me I know how scary this all is but once you see their face it will ease all those worries. You won’t have loved anything as much as that little baby. You’ll find your way. Don’t worry.”

The woman takes the bag and gives her a weak smile as she takes her receipt. There is something in her eyes that Y/n can’t quite place but she simply says thank you and heads for the door. Ori skips back out back of the office and hands Y/n her phone.

“Done mama!”

Y/n tears her eyes from the empty sales floor and looks at her daughter. She wraps her arm around her and kisses her cheek. “Thank you, starlight. You know your daddy and I love you very much, right?”

Ori responds with a beaming smile and nods. “Yep, you love me best and most in the whole world. Bigger than the whole universe?”

“Yeah, bigger than the universe and brighter than the sun, starlight.”

--------

Bucky groans, loudly. “Steve. I can’t keep having this conversation with you. Bring Oliver over tomorrow and you can take Sam out. I think it will be okay. I have a kid you remember? I even took care of her when she was a baby. Plus, Beck will be there.”

The front door bell chimes and that’s Bucky's last straw. He’s wasted enough time talking to Steve about date night with Sam. Bucky needs to kiss his girl, say hi to his babies before he loses his friggin’ mind!

“I’m hanging up, punk. I haven’t seen my girl yet and you’re keeping me from pizza and talking to my babies. Oh, good, God. Shut it. You just whined about missing your husband for twenty minutes and you’re going to rag on me? I don’t think so, pal. Bring Oliver by tomorrow night around seven. Later, Stevie.”

Bucky’s cheeks are still bright red when he turns around to see Dot standing behind him, swollen belly and a bag full of books from his fiance’s bookstore. He peeks through the window at his girls laughing at the front counter and he knows that Dot met his baby, his Orion and he wasn’t there when it happened. Even if Dot didn’t know she did, she still did and bucky felt his chest twist and stomach clench.

He wasn’t there.

“James…” She closes her eyes and mutters, “Uncle Stevie and Uncle Sammy.”

Bucky doesn’t answer her. He doesn’t even look at her, he walks right past her and heads towards the store. He isn’t going to do this in the street and not with his daughter so close. She isn’t going to learn who Dot is this way.

“Wait--” Dot steps towards the shop door and Bucky steps in front of her, blocking her path. “Is that... My--”

“No.” Bucky is quick to shut that down, gesturing between him and Y/n through a large picture window at the front of the store. He makes sure things are very clear when it comes to Ori and tells her, “She’s our daughter, not yours. You walked out on her before she was three days old, she was never your daughter.”

They stand there, staring at each other. No says a word and no one dares to move. Bucky would love to go inside and shield his girls from whatever this woman is trying to bring into their lives but he stays put, firm and standing his ground. The awkward silence fills the busy sidewalk out front of the shop and after several minutes of agony finally Bucky can’t take it any longer. He has to know what she wants from him and what she wants from his baby girl.

“What is it?”

“What…” Her brows pinch together and she shakes her head. “What is what?”

“What do you want, Dot?” Bucky clarified. He wasn’t yelling, he would never yell at a woman but his tone was as far as friendly as you could get. “If you think you can come back here after nearly seven years and take my daughter from me--”

“I didn’t come here to try to take her Bucky! Jesus,” She blows out a breath and glances back at the girls through the display window. “I didn’t know this is your… wife’s store. I didn’t even know you had gotten married. I was out for a walk after meeting my parents for lunch and I saw the display in the window so I came in. I wasn’t looking for you or for her--”

Bucky digs his teeth into his bottom to keep down the harsh words that were threatening to crawl up his throat. Of course, she wasn’t looking for Ori. She’s never wanted anything to do with Ori and that was probably for the best. He didn’t bother correcting her about Y/n. They were going to be married soon enough and he didn’t want Dot having any more information about his family in case she suddenly got it in her head that she wants to know Ori. He looks down at her swollen stomach and something in his stomach burns. She didn’t want Ori but she’s out buying baby books for this baby? What makes this baby more deserving than his little girl? He hopes Ori doesn’t know any of that or put any of this together on her own. He would have no idea how to repair her heart from that kind of hurt.

His Beck would know. She would know how to fix it and would make everything okay because she loves Ori more than she loves him and that’s one of the reasons he fell in love with her.

“Good. That’s good. Because she has a mom, you know? One that loves her unconditionally and for the record, you’re the one that’s missing out. Not me and definitely not Ori. You’re missing out on an amazing kid and that’s all on you.”

He wanted his words to hurt her more. He wanted her to be upset and regretful for missing out on Ori’s life but she wasn’t. She was hurt by this confrontation and maybe having to hear all of this from him directly but she wasn’t upset about losing Ori.

“James, I was young and stupid. I’m sorry I left that way but… I never felt that connection you felt. You held her and I could see it in your face, you loved her with all of you. I wanted to feel that so badly and I thought after I held her and things would be different but… they weren’t. It’s not like either of us wanted a baby when I got pregnant. You might hate me for leaving and maybe she does too but it was the right decision. She should have a mother who loves her.”

Bucky looks back into the shop and his girls had moved to Ori’s chair (probably Ori’s doing to keep Beck off her feet). Ori is snuggled into Y/n’s side with her head resting on Y/n’s stomach reading The Magic School Bus (with Y/n’s help here and there) to the twins while Y/n plays with her hair. He had no idea how Dot could look at that little girl and not have her heart bursting. He didn’t want to admit it to himself or to Dot but she is right. Ori deserves to have a mother who loves her and he’s so grateful she has one of the best.

“Maybe you’re right or maybe you would have been a good mom. We won’t know because you bolted before we could find out.”

Bucky turns around to head inside but stops abruptly. He spins back around and he looks down at her baby bump one last time. He shakes his he and meets her eyes. “Don’t come back here. Stay away from my daughter and my family. Hopefully this family is one worth sticking around for.”

--------

The doorbell chimes through the quiet of the fairly empty store making Y/n sigh. She is so tired and all she wants is her fiance. Y/n looks up to greet whoever came in looking for their next adventure, but to her surprise, it is her fiance. He is wearing a tired smile but he’s smiling brighter the closer he gets to the front desk. Her brows pull together as she glances at the time on the computer. Bucky has been outside talking to Steve for over forty minutes.

That was highly unusual. Bucky was so good about focusing on her and Ori. Once they were all together his phone was down and he only picked up if it was an emergency or had to do with work.

“Well, hello there handsome.”

“Hi, beautiful.” Bucky rumbles as he leans over the counter to peck her lips. “How was today? Have you been on your feet all day?” He asks, brows raised and disappointment seeping into this voice.

“Bucky, I have to work.” She scolds, chuckling softly as she does. Before he can argue she is already making her way around to get a proper kiss, which Bucky gives without hesitation.

“Please, go sit down. For me? I’ll finish inventory and look at that stack of resumes on the counter you have been avoiding even though you said you were going to hire help months ago. When Leopold and Lobe get here things are only going to get crazier. We need to find help now.”

“Those are not the babies' names and I hate interviewing people.” She grumbles with a pout and leans into Bucky’s arms, sighing heavily after he wraps his arms around her letting some of that extra baby weight fall onto Bucky and she quickly realizes how tired she really is.

“I missed you both a lot today and I’m so tired. Just exhausted really and I’m so ready to go home.” She whispers into Bucky’s neck and his arms tighten around her, swaying her back and forth to try and soothe her as best he can in the middle of the store. He wants to tell her to close up early and bring the resumes home so he can call a few to set up interviews but he can’t muster up the words -- he’s frozen.

All because of his past decided to walk back into his life today. The walk he took after Dot left did nothing to help clear his mind or ease the worry that she is going to come back and try to take his baby girl away. He wants to ask what happened when Dot was there with them. He needs to know what she said to Ori and his soon-to-be wife but he doesn’t want to say the words. Y/n is already tired and hurting from being on her feet all day, he won’t overwhelm her with a woman that doesn’t matter.

“Bucky?”

His arms tighten around her as if she is in some sort of trouble and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah? What’s the matter, baby?”

She pulls back and arches her brow. As if she doesn’t know when something is wrong with him and the look on her face says just that. That look finally gets a smile out of the man. “I’m not sure what is wrong but I know something isn’t right. So, how about you tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Bucky sighs and makes sure Ori is out of earshot in Y/n’s office, she is. She is doing her homework with that bright smile he adores so much. She is humming Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun and letting her feet sway back and forth. Het adores seeing her like that. Happy and content and Beck is to thank for most of that happiness the last two years.

“I’ll tell you about it tonight, but everything is going to be fine. Just a long, long day. Whaddya say after pizza and homework we close up early and go home? I’ll start calling some of those resumes for you and I’m going to have Nat come help you at the store until we hire someone.”

Y/n eyes him for a second longer and then nods her agreement. She’s too tired to fight him tonight and she isn’t going to pass up Bucky handling the interviews. She presses a quick kiss to his lips and whispers against them, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay. I’ve got my girls and babies on the way. Everything is just the way it’s supposed to be.”

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fireman!Bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x yn #Firefighter AU #no longer single dad AU #alternate universe

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mon-dayragingslut4monstaxday6 · 4 years

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See You (Part 1)

See You

A/N: This is the beginning of something beautiful. There will be fluff, angst and smut, but we have to start somewhere. There are no warnings, just really cute. 2.5k words.

@ckyunoirs, @to-all-the-stories-i-love, @kpop---scenarios(you’ll see why). Let me know if you want to be added!❤️

I sit at the dinner table with my sister, staring at my bowl of soup. The soup is delicious, but with the amount of effort we put in, I lost my appetite. Dammit, but the smell hitting my nostrils is making my mouth salivate.

“Are you going to eat or are you just going to stare?”, Bailey mumbles, tapping the table to get my attention. I take a spoonful of soup and embrace the feeling of hard work being paid off.

“I’m just distracted”, I sigh before dipping a roll into the broth.

“By?”, Bailey wonders.

“This guy I’m talking to”, I take a big bite out of my roll.

“You’re still talking to that Korean guy? He seems like bad news”, she scoffs.

“How? He hasn’t gotten weird yet”, I shrug.

“Yet”, she points out.

“I’m thinking about asking him to show his face”, I bow my head in shame. Instead of choking on her soup, which is what I imagined, she calmly swirls her spoon.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?”, she turned sincere.

“It’s not like we’re dating. We make small talk, but nothing farther than a friendship level”, I shrug.

“Could you see yourself being with this guy?”, she turns giggly.

“I couldn’t say. We get along great, but I could definitely see us being friends”, I turn my visual focus to my soup.

“What if he’s hot”, she gasps. I can feel my cheeks start to warm up.

“He won’t be, stop”, I bashfully mumble.

“But what if he likes you! You’re stunning, he will absolutely adore you”, she adds, hyping up the vibe.

“You’re making me blush”, I hide my smile.

“Oh honey. If you’re blushing now, you’ll be a mess when you see his face”, she pokes fun. Shit, she’s right. I will be a mess.

“Should I just ask for a selfie or could he just catfish me?”, I groan.

“He will probably catfish if you ask for a selfie. Just FaceTime him. If you get uncomfortable, just click out of it. You don’t owe him anything”, she points to my phone. I take a few more spoonfuls of my soup and pick up my phone.

“I’m going to schedule a FaceTime session with him”, I inhale.

“And may he be a creepy gross man who is just using those apps to get sweet naive girls like my dumbass sister”, my sister toasts. I clink and swig my drink.

“But what if he is hot”, I worry. “Then snatch that fucker”, she shamelessly sips her drink. I nearly choke on my soup.

“How would I do that?”, I egg her on.

“Send him a photo of your tits, ass, and thighs and he will be crawling all over you”, she points to my features.

“What if he’s taken?”, I gasp. I never realized I never asked if he was single. The topic never came up!

“Then why is he texting you”, she winks.

“For tutoring”, I assert.

“Tutoring to get in your pants more like”, she continues to give me the side eye.

“He’s not like that”, I scoff.

“Yet”, she scrunches her face.

I unlock my phone and message him good morning.

Min: Good evening to you, Sophie!

I need to get a grip. It’s just asking for a video chat, no big deal. Oh goodness, I never thought that maybe he would say no.

Me: I was wondering if you would want to video chat.

Min: You wonder what I look like?

Son of a bitch, he’s smarter than I thought.

Me: Yes. Are you not curious about me?

Min: I am.

My heart is pounding. I need to eat my soup to calm my nerves.

Me: We don’t have to video chat if you don’t want to.

I put my phone down to compose my thoughts and refocus on my soup.

“What is he saying?”, Bailey teases.

“He asked me if I wonder what he looks like and I said yes and I asked him if he wonders what I look like and he said yes”, I calmly recite the messages. I hear my phone buzz and I don’t have the strength to pick it up.

“Eat and then message him. It’s still morning over there anyway”, she shoos my phone away. I follow the advice, because my stomach is growling from neglect. I eat the rest of my soup and roll in peace, collecting thoughts about what this video chat would be like. Obviously, it will be awkward. A solid two minutes of us saying hi and waving, trying to think on what to say.

I feel mildly shameful for getting to know this one guy I met online. I’ve been using some apps to tutor Korean’s English, getting some extra cash at my own pace. There was this one guy who frequently requested tutoring. Out of all of the people I tutored, he made the best progress, but he still has a long way to go. He innocently asked for my WhatsApp, to have better contact with me. Being naive, I gave him my contact information. When I realized what I did, I guaranteed that once the conversation drifts to something explicit, I’ll immediately block him. He never gave the impression that he would be like that, but we only talked about tutoring and typical conversation translations.

It’s been a couple of weeks or so since we started casually messaging. I learned he’s an artist, a weakness of mine. He sent me photos of some of his work and his simplistic style is very visually pleasing, very tranquil. I knew that when I told him that I’m a fellow artist, our conversations will shift. Suddenly, we can relate to each other, something I wanted to avoid.

He hasn’t asked me what I looked like yet, something I’m personally surprised by, but I’m going to take the plunge and finally see him. It’s not like I would stop talking to him if he’s ugly, I just don’t know what I will do if he’s pretty.

Having the soup settle in my tummy, I pick up my phone.

Min: I want to. I’m afraid you will think of me differently if you see me.

Me: How come?

The wait for a reply is making me anxious. To take my attention away from my phone, I wash my dishes in the sink.

“Sophie. We have a dishwasher”, Bailey points to the dishwasher right next to me.

“I need to keep busy”, I huff.

“It’s just a boy. Schedule a video chat then go to bed”, she laughs at my anguish.

“What if he’s pretty Bailey!”, I jokingly whine.

“Then good for you! That means you have a pretty friend. There is nothing weird with having a pretty friend”, Bailey explains.

“You’re right. You’re right”, I acknowledge as I stack my dishes on the drying rack. I hear my phone ding and Bailey and I exchanged glances.

“Don’t do it. Keep busy and put the food away”, Bailey warns. Without hesitation I grab some deep tupperware from the cupboard to store the soup. I hear a giggle from the dining room. Peaking over my shoulder and Bailey is reading the message preview on my phone screen.

“Bailey!”, I gasp.

“You’re getting catfished”, she cackles.

“Why, what did he say?”, I pout my lip.

“He claims he’s a model”, she laughs. I try not to roll my eyes.

“Then he sent you a link to his instagram”, she continues.

“Did you open it?”, I wonder.

“I need your password”, she catches her breath from laughing.

“Give me a second while I put the food away”, I gesture to the kitchen counter. Could he really be catfishing me? He wouldn’t. Would he? It’s not like I know the guy. Stop imagining, get your act together!

I pour the soup in a couple of containers, enough for Bailey and I to have our own large bowl.

“I’ll wash the pot, go talk to your man”, she cackles, switching places with me. I unlock my phone and see a swarm of messages.

Min: I’m afraid you will recognize me. I do modeling so a lot of my photos are styled.

Min: You can see my Instagram. If you don’t believe it, we can still video chat.

Min: I would very much like to see you.

He sends me a link to his Instagram and I already don’t know how to feel about it. Only thirty-four posts but over six hundred thousand followers but following none. That sounds suspicious. I see some selfies and my phone drops out of my hands. That can’t be him. He can’t be that pretty. He can’t!

“Bailey, I fucked up. He’s pretty”, I cry out.

“He could use someone else's face. Facetime him. I dare you”, Bailey aggressively points.

“Should I send him my Instagram?”, I mumble.

“No, leave the mystery”, she winks at me.

Me: Is that really you on Instagram?

Min: Sorry I’ve been hiding it from you.

Me: That didn’t answer my question haha

Min: It is me. Can I see yours?

Me: Let’s video chat. I’m probably too ugly for you.

Min: Doubt it. I’m sure you’re beautiful.

Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t blush. I was going to wait to video call him, but I can’t wait any longer. I need to see him.

Me: Could you video chat now? Just for a few minutes?

Min: Sure!

“Bailey, it’s happening”, I panic. Bailey stops what she’s doing and blankly stares at me.

“Stay calm. Nothing to worry about. It’s just a boy. Go to your room, get comfortable. Say hi and ask him about his day”, Bailey walks me through this.

“If he starts acting weird. Hang up”, her voice turns worrisome.

“If he asks you to get naked, hang up”, she continues to list possible scenarios.

“Wouldn’t that be under acting weird?”, my voice trembles. She shrugs.

“If he’s naked, definitely hang up”, she adds.

“Enough. I’m going”, I exclaim, rushing to my bedroom. Looking in the mirror, goodness how did I let my skin look so bad! It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just one video call. One. I half ass my skin care routine, skipping some steps. My phone buzzes, a message from Min. He sent me his info to video call him. What the fuck am I wearing! I swiftly change into my favorite comfy sweater. First impressions matter and he needs to see me as cute as possible! I leap onto my bed, sitting up against the headboard.

Min: Are you ready or do you want to reschedule?

Me: No, I’m ready!

Setting up the according video chatting app, I squirm nervously, imagining every scenario possible. He could be a creeper who tries to traffick girls. He could be some weird old guy who catfishes as a handsome young man to get sugar babies. He could not be a catfish but has a girlfriend and he’s doing this as a way to cheat. I need to stop this negativity. He could be a perfectly normal guy who likes making friends.

Dialing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. I hide my face with my sleeve. I can’t bear seeing him. The ringing stops. There’s some shuffling.

“Sophie?”, I hear a sweet, soft, slightly feminine voice. His little laugh makes my heart flutter. His laugh sounds genuine, from his diaphragm, kind of breathy. I sneak a peek and he’s as beautiful as his Instagram. He has very kissable lips. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that I can easily escape in. He is a living Disney prince.

“Hi, Minhyuk”, I wave while keeping one hand over my face.

“Why are you hiding?”, he can’t stop smiling. His accent is pretty strong, but he did work hard on his English.

“I’m shy”, I mindlessly confess. He jokingly pouts.

“It’s ok, it’s just me”, he comforts. I lower my hand, but keep myself wrapped in the sweater. He grins from cheek to cheek, showing his pearly whites. His cheekbones couldn’t be more pronounced. He hasn’t done or said anything for a couple of seconds, is he frozen?

“Minhyuk?”, I ask.

“How are you this beautiful?”, he chuckles.

“Huh?”, my jaw drops.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?”, Minhyuk continues. I sweater paw to hide my cheeky grin.

“Stop it”, I bashfully look away.

“No, you are beautiful. I can’t believe you’re real”, he cackles. I gasp.

“Me?! You’re the model!”, I exclaim, laughing hard enough for me to snort. I can’t believe I snorted in the time talking to a guy. His laugh is comforting.

“You’re so cute”, he compliments.

“I’m not cute”, I pout, crossing my arms. A smile has yet to leave his face. Is this going well?

“Yes, you are”, he scrunches his nose. Oh my goodness, don’t do that again or else I will actually fall apart.

“What are you doing today?”, I change the subject, hoping for a casual conversation.

“I got schedules, a full day of work. What did you do today? Did you eat?”, he gets the hint. He changes his sitting position to be more comfortable.

“I just had some good soup. Work was rough today, but I have tomorrow off”, my eyes lock onto his.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”, he tilts his head slightly.

“Going shopping”, I casually guess.

“Will you message me while you shop?”, he mumbles. I notice his eyes blink irregularly.

“Yes”, I nod. Minhyuk looks offscreen and his face shifts from a smile to a more relaxed look.

“One second, please”, he whispers to the screen. I hear a muffled man’s voice offscreen. Minhyuk converses with the person obviously in his room. His voice in Korean is even more attractive than his English voice. Not saying his English voice isn’t attractive, it’s very attractive. Hell, everything about him is attractive. How is he real? How did the universe maneuver it’s way for us to find each other? How does he find me beautiful? I don’t understand it. I’m so fascinated by his face and his voice. I want to know more about him. I’d love to paint with him through video chatting. What am I going to say to Bailey when this is over? I’ll tell her the truth. Minhyuk looks over at me and catches me absentmindedly staring.

“Sophie?”, he laughs to get my attention, knocking me out of my trance.

“I have to get ready for the day. I can call you when you wake up”, he pouts.

“Oh, yeah! Sure, I’ll message you when I’m awake”, I smile.

“Sleep well and sweet dreams. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”, he sweetly waves.

“Have a good day at work, be safe and eat good food”, I kindly wave. He scrunches his nose one more time before hanging up. I plop my phone next to me so I can melt onto my blankets.

There’s a knock on my door.

“Come in”, I welcome. Bailey peaks her head in and laughs at me fully spread out on my bed.

“How was it?”, she shows her curiosity.

“Amazing”, I sigh in disappointment. I could talk to him for hours when we message, I can’t even imagine how long we would video chat.

“Was he pretty?”, Bailey continues.

“Gorgeous”, I whine. She squeals.

“What did he think of you?”, she gasps. I turn over to lay on my stomach.

“He called me beautiful and cute”, I scream into my pillow.

#monsta x fluff #monsta x #monsta x minhyuk #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #90 day fiance

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nimmy22 · 3 years

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A Mistake: Chapter 10

Rick was disposed of on Friday. He has been dead for three days.

Raccoon High school ~ 8:00 AM Monday

Heading to her locker, Cara found her friend already waiting for her. Claire stood leaning against the locker, bouncing a ball back and forth. She had a far-away look, chewing her bottom lip. she didn't notice Cara approach. Her mind occupied elsewhere.

Hiding behind a pillar, she spent a few minutes preparing herself for the act before the filming started. There were no second takes in real life. She had only one chance, and that was it. It was now or never. Blowing her bangs out of her face, she gripped her bag tighter and approached Claire.

Feeling cold sweat trickle down her neck, Cara tried to calm her breathing. she resisted the all-powerful urge to run in the opposite direction. She wondered if Claire figured out the truth about what her most trusted friend had done to Rick in the Arkley mountains. Claire looked bothered, and the likelihood of Rick being the reason was high.

"Hi," Cara called out with a smile that Claire matched with her own.

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna show your face around here." Cara's heart fell. She gripped her books tighter to keep them from slipping through her clammy hands. Alarms went off in her head. Did Claire know? Rick wasn't yet reported missing by his mom as she had eaten the lie up for now.

"What? Why wouldn't I?" Cara hid her grimacing face in her locker, pretending to look for something. She struggled to swallow the thickness at the back of her throat.

"Mr. Augustine is subbing in for the first period. That fucker is notorious. No one is setting foot in that class while he's in there." Claire growled, throwing her ball extra hard into the lockers across from them. The sound drew several sleep-deprived eyes for a few seconds.

The tension left Cara's shoulders, and she exhaled slowly. "I could use some normalcy in my life right now. Bad teachers are normal." Cara mumbled without thinking.

Giving her the side-eye, Claire stepped closer, caging her friend against the lockers. "Something you’re not telling me? Something definitely happened." Claire tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she regarded her friend.

Cara's mouth went slack for a moment. She racked her brain for a way out of these questions. It was hard to think through the alarms blasting in her head.

"Is it bad for me wanting things to be back to the same dull routine? Routine is safe, but what's happening around here recently isn't. Bank robbers taking hostages. And before that, the kid who drove his car into a tree and burned to death. And lastly, my runaway almost-boyfriend. I would like a week where nothing bad happens."

Cara couldn't bring herself to mention her missing parents, getting assaulted in the woods, killing someone, and the endlessly piling bills. How could she possibly say anything without digging herself a depthless hole?

"Oh yeah, Rick. So weird what happened with him. No one just up and leaves like that. Apparently, he wrote this note about going to his dad's place and left. But his mom can't get in contact with her ex-husband either." just like that, Claire backed off, and Cara was thankful.

"Maybe he got fed up with this town."

"Or maybe you smashed his heart with a nasty rejection, and all he could think of was getting the hell outta here. Shame though, you could've gotten yourself a man."

"Hey! he didn't make a move while we were alone together. Maybe you just read all the signs wrong. he was not interested in me from the start."

'Lies. Lies. Lies.' Cara screamed in her head, but on the outside, she maintained a playful expression.

"Impossible! I'm good at reading people. Like, wasn't I right about that one guy who was sniffing around my bike? He was saying he was just checking it out, but I knew he would try to steal it. Guess who ends up sitting at the back of my brother's cruiser? the view he's got now doesn't include a sky."

"That was one time," Cara scoffed, making her way to her first class.

"Your point is?" Claire raised an eyebrow, hands resting on her hips.

"My point is, your ability doesn't seem to delve deeper than surface stuff because you missed some real shit about Rick," Cara said bitterly.

"What do you mean?" Claire watched her friend with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open.

"Oh, you forgot to mention how funny and adorable Rick was- is. When I saw him at the trails, I was immediately hit in the head with how handsome he was. Please, keep hooking me up with great guys like that, and I'll bleed them dry with my rocking charm. They'll never know what hit em."

"don't worry, I'll find you a nice hunk to make up for our runaway boy. I'll make sure you got a date for that fundraising party they're gonna have at the station. My brother got us invites."

"That's cool. I... can’t wait," Cara said as she stood in front of the classroom.

"Are you actually going in?" Claire grabbed her friend's arm.

"Yeah, why not? one bad teacher isn't the end of the world."

"Goddammit, fine, I'm coming with you. You’re such a bad influence on me,"

"Only the best." Cara giggled but remembered the problem at hand. One of many. She turned to her friend. "Hey, Claire,"

"Yeah," Claire answered as she dug into her backpack for a pencil.

"Do you think I could stay with you for a few days?" Cara said in a low voice, her finger fiddling with a hole in her jeans.

"Fuck yes! We haven't been able to hang out for a while. In fact, Chris will really appreciate somebody staying over with me. He's been gone a lot these days, especially at night. Work isn't as clear-cut anymore. what's up though?"

"My parents are out of town. I'm scared someone might break in while I'm alone." Cara lied, grimacing internally with every word. she hated lying to her friend. Still, there was no way she could tell Claire that she is being evicted.

The rent was already late. Late for months. The landlord was already fed up and refused to give her more time. She couldn't come up with even a quarter of what was owed, and an eviction notice was posted to her door last night. With her parents still MIA, she couldn't save her home. While it wasn't the happiest place on earth, she grew up there and had some fond memories amongst all the bad ones. The staircase was her favorite place to play as a child. She would meet up with the other kids there, and they would play for hours while their giggles and shouts echoed floors below. It was a time of innocence, moments of joy away from their abusive homes.

"Girl, I'll protect you. Come on over whenever. You don't even need to ask." Claire giggled, balancing the pencil on her nose and crossing her eyes. "Claire bear will take good care of you."

"Thanks, Claire, you the best," Cara meant every word. This was the only truthful thing she had said in this conversation.

----------------------------- 4 PM

On her way to the bus stop, Cara made a mental list of all the things she should pack from home. This was likely the last time she will be setting foot there. Obviously, she couldn't take any furniture, not that anything was worth more than curbside pickups.

Just as Cara reached the bus stop, a light drizzle of rain began. It reminded her of that night. The night she had the misfortune of meeting the infamous captain of the STARS. While she had seen and experienced some horrible things since meeting him, nothing was directly his doing. Those hitmen would have tried to kidnap Sherry, Rick would have tried to rape her, and her parents would have left whether or not she had met him. He helped her several times, and she had to acknowledge that he may be an ally she could trust. But he still had control over her life which frustrates her.

Stepping into the bus shelter, an advertisement caught her attention. Cara approached the poster, her eyes skimming over the print with increasing interest.

Participants wanted for clinical trials at Raccoon General Hospital to test the efficacy of a new drug. Each participant will be paid a starting amount of 900$ at the beginning of the study if selected. More details will be provided after the extensive selection process. All interested parties must complete an application and submit it to the secretary of Dr. Sandford on the third floor of Raccoon general hospital, room 312.

The money stood out to Cara, so much so that she walked out into the rain with a destination in mind. The money wasn't much, but it could help her get by for at least a month or so. she needed a little booster until she could sort out a job. She couldn't survive just on babysitting, especially since the Birkins hadn't called her at all this week. They've been too quiet, and she was starting to miss Sherry.

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

With dripping hair and drenched clothes sticking to her like a second skin, Cara finished filling in her details while the clipboard rested on her thighs. Using the number of the phone Wesker had given her, she filled out her contact information.

The rain had not let up, only coming down harder. It was soothing to hear the rain periodically hitting the windows. She was the only person in Dr. Sandford's waiting room until the secretary sauntered back in and rolled her caked eyes at Cara.

"Still here? Oh, take your time its not like I enjoy staying back past my shift. You must be something desperate. Why don't you visit one of them shelters, you know, the ones for troubled runaway teens." she said through loud, open-mouthed gum chewing. A generous amount of red lipstick coated her front teeth. It was a wonder how she did not taste it.

"All done!" Cara chirped, skipping to the secretary's desk. She slid the clipboard over the counter with a big smile earning her another eye-roll. she could almost feel the cash already in her hands, and nothing could dampen her mood. Making her way to the door, Cara hoped she would be selected for the study.

"Oh? so you do have a home. But on that side of town. It might as well be a cardboard box in a back alley." the secretary snickered as she looked over Cara's application, twirling her Coiffured hair. She held the form carelessly, pulling out the piece of gum in her mouth and sticking it on the corner of the paper.

All Cara wanted to do was walk up to the older woman's face and smack the smug look off her face while screaming every profanity she could think of. Instead, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and gave a generous squeeze. Water spilled all over the polished white floors. "Sorry, I can't afford to catch a cold."

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

Cara sat curled up on a couch next to Claire, a cozy blanket laid over them. The only light in the room was the flashing of the T.V as shots were fired. Half the popcorn in the bowl was on the floor as they kept tossing the kernels in each other's mouths and missing every single time.

"I gotta go pee, be right back," Claire declared before hopping over the back of the couch and jogging to the bathroom. Pausing the movie, Cara stood up to stretch.

As Cara started clearing the popcorn mess, her phone rang. She knew it could only be Wesker or Dr. Sandford calling. Without wasting time, she stumbled off the couch to grab her phone off the coffee table. in her hast, she ended up sending it sliding beneath the couch. "Fuck!" she hissed.

Peeking below, she couldn't see it. Using all her strength, she flipped the couch over to reveal her phone sitting in a pile of dust. She didn't recognize the caller's number and squealed. Taking a deep breath, she answered the call.

"Hello?" her voice shook, hands clammy. Short of breath, she had to remind herself to breathe.

"This is the FBI. We are calling regarding an arrest warrant made for you." A young boy spoke. He couldn't be older than her.

"Oh yeah?" Cara clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. These little fuckers chose the worst time to mess with her.

"Have no worries, Miss. We can have all the charges withdrawn from your record. But first, we need you to confirm your social insurance number for us."

"Oh, sure. It begins with....1234 go fuck yourself," hanging up, Cara covered her face with her hands. she felt stupid for worrying over something that turned out to be a prank call.

While she enjoyed hanging out with her best friend, the wait was slowly killing her. She wanted to do something about her situation ASAP but was stuck watching the rented movie Claire nagged about all day. What calmed her nerves a little was that Claire had agreed to go job hunting with her the next day.

Cara fixed the couch and threw herself on it with a sigh, tossing the phone beside her. Leaning back, Cara rested her head and closed her eyes.

Her eyes flew open as the phone rang again, with another unknown number. With an eye roll, Cara answered. "Listen, you little shits. Find someone else to-"

"I guess your mother was too busy snorting drugs to teach you any respect. I suppose you weren't desperate for the money after all," Cara recognized the secretary's haughty voice, her eyes widening like saucers. She mouthed a half dozen curses before collecting herself.

"I am so sorry, mam! someone was prank calling-"

"Did I ask? Despite you being such a low grad choice, you've been selected. I have no idea what low standards the doctor has that he will take just about anyone. Come to the same place Wednesday at 6 PM sharp and don't be late."

"Thank you. Thank you!" Cara cried, bouncing on the couch.

"It's only 900$," With a click of her tongue, the secretary hung up.

Claire came back from the bathroom and watched with raised brows as her friend bounced around. Not knowing what her friend was happy about, Claire joined her in jumping on the couch. Together they broke into a fit of hysterical giggling. She was glad to see her friend less troubled.

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

Cara sat in a small crowd of twelve selected participants around a meeting room at the hospital. She was the first to arrive, eager to remedy her situation as soon as possible with the soon-to-be easy cash in her hands.

"During the experiment, you will be required to stay in an assigned room. Contact with the outside is strictly prohibited. Until we state otherwise. Many competitors out there will do anything to steal our research. As such, actions will be taken to prevent any and all data leaks. My team of researchers will monitor all medication's administration, and You may not refuse any doses given." Cara and several others scoffed at the scientist, Dr. Stanford.

Grey-haired, tall, and plump with dark skin, this man was the definition of sketchy. His ambitious eyes were calculating as they hardly spent time on each individual. His clothes and lab coat were immaculate, crisply pressed.

"Hey, I am not trying to be a lab rat for big pharma here," A man yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth. His clothes were worn, hair disheveled and dirty.

"You will receive your initial payment of 900$ now and then $2000 at the conclusion of the study. Any questions?" No one else spoke up. No complaints. Everyone's eyes gleamed with the prospect of additional money in their pockets. Cara couldn't deny how lucrative the amount was despite the sketchy situation.

The study would last only three days. Three days of absolutely no contact with the outside. Three days and she would have $2900 in her hands. It was good to be true.

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

30 min earlier.

Wesker stood at the loading area behind the hospital, leaning against the wall. Behind his shades, he watched as the two men loaded his cruiser with boxes of donated medical supplies. Once they were finished, the men returned inside.

Under the guise of checking over the contents of the boxes, Wesker peered inside to locate the reason he was here in the first place, A yellow folder of classified information about the newest test subjects. The job was clear. He would wipe any traces left by the research project and prevent any future missing person cases from being fruitful. Without opening the folder, he placed it back in the box and closed the trunk. Trust Umbrella to begin the cleanup operation before the first injection was administered. They like to cover all their bases.

With his hand on the door handle, Wesker paused. Something felt wrong, but he couldn't figure it out. Taking cover behind the car, he took out his gun, surveying the rooftops for a sniper. He waited several minutes, yet nothing happened.

Seeing no danger to himself, he lowered his gun back to its holster. There was no visible threat, yet he couldn't shake off the sense of danger. Frowning, Wesker wondered if Umbrella's paranoia was getting to him.

Making his way into the hospital, he began a search but didn't know what he was looking for.

Something was very wrong.

#claire redfield #resident evil #albert wesker x oc #albert wesker #oc

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illlidans · 3 years

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Buy used car tips

Action 1: Establish Your Spending plan You can purchase a used vehicle with cash money or by getting a vehicle loan. Presume which way is the smartest. We just advise spending for an automobile with cash money. No vehicle repayments right here! Yes, that suggests you'll have a severe damage in your cost savings, yet you'll miss the stress of investing thousands of dollars on car loan repayments monthly. Isn't that outstanding? For instance, if you borrow $10,000 for an automobile with a 5% rates of interest as well as a term of five years, you'll end up investing an added $1,322.74 in passion. Not so inexpensive anymore! However prior to you lose hope, remember this: You can find reputable pre-owned vehicles in any type of cost variety. If you're battling monetarily, you can locate an automobile to obtain you from point A to factor B for as low as $1,000 to $2,000. It might not be rather, yet you'll get by. If you aren't satisfied with the vehicles you can manage, bear in mind that you can take all that money you reduce vehicle settlements every month as well as stash it away for an upgrade. Just make it a top priority in your budget! P.S. If you need a budgeting tool, provide ours a test-drive in a Ramsey+ complimentary trial. It'll help you get going on ending up being debt-free and also functioning your method to the cars and truck you really want. Step 2: Find Your Perfect Vehicle When you have actually established your budget plan, you can locate your excellent auto. Not your dream auto. Your ideal car. It's the one that ideal fits your way of living and your reasons for buying it. Prior to you state your commitment to your favored vehicle brand, go back as well as have a look at the kinds of vehicles and what each was created to do. Trucks, as an example, were designed to lug goods and also hefty materials. So unless you're hauling heavy cargo regularly (you know-- crushed rock, lumber, blocks), do not buy a truck. For a great traveler lorry, stick with choices that are portable as well as energy reliable, like cars, hatchbacks or hybrids. Narrow down your choices with this fast list. Read through these declarations and also pick three that relate to your situation the most. Use your solution to assist choose which sort of cars and truck is perfect for you. ____ I want a vehicle with a lot of freight space. ____ I desire an automobile that can fit even more people. ____ I want a lorry with far better gas economy. ____ I desire an automobile that's very easy to enter and out of. ____ I want a lorry that's risk-free. ____ I want a lorry that's much better for the environment. ____ I want my lorry to lug heavy cargo. ____ I want to go off-road or on harsh terrain. ____ I desire my lorry to be compact as well as light for city car park. ____ I desire my car to have lugging abilities. As you choose your perfect vehicle, you'll have to make some sacrifices as well. You won't discover an automobile that does whatever. So prepare your heart for that. Be honest with yourself regarding your wants as well as your requirements, and believe long term regarding exactly how you'll be utilizing your automobile. Want to Save a Little Money? Obviously you do. So think about features you do not need your vehicle to have. Not simply technology like in-dash GPS, Bluetooth connectivity and also backup video cameras-- yet the basics as well. What kind of standard points? Well, take cylinders, for instance. Today, a 2011 Kia Sorento with 6 cyndrical tubes prices around $8,350 to $10,750.4 The exact same Kia with a four-cylinder engine? $7,750 to $10,150 (as well as these numbers change almost day-to-day).5 Though it might not feel like a great deal, you can take that added (virtually) $600 as well as put it towards your car insurance policy. Tip: Unless you're hauling hefty freight, simply stick with 4 cylinders. What concerning the transmission? Stick shifts are typically cheaper than automatics, some versions also improve gas mileage, as well as last but not least-- they're simply ordinary enjoyable to drive. As well as do you actually require four-wheel drive (AWD), or can you get by with front- or rear-wheel drive (2WD)? Unless you reside in the hills or handle great deals of rain, snow as well as ice on your commute, stick to front- or rear-wheel drive if you're simply driving in the city. Bonus Tip: When you're comparing different automobiles, do not neglect to think of insurance costs also. Deal with an independent insurance coverage representative who can help you save without shedding on protection on your cars and truck. Action 3: Buy a Used Automobile Now that you understand how much you can spend and also what kind of cars and truck cares for your requirements, you can begin buying. But initially, let's talk about two areas you ought to stay away from. New automobile dealers. Although a lot of new car dealers market utilized cars, they're always a lot more costly. Buy-here, pay-here great deals. These great deals refer to car dealerships that not just offer autos (get here) yet additionally use vehicle loan (pay here). You have actually seen these places. They generally have multicolor pennant streamers strung between light posts as well as a 20-foot blow-up gorilla trembling a "sale" indicator. Yep, you understand the kind. Stay clear of these lots as well. Their cars have a lots of surprise charges, and they likewise typically have less than a 48-hour return policy. With a little bit much more looking, you can locate better utilized cars somewhere else. Here are 6 places to begin your search. CarMax has a significant online stock and a very detailed cars and truck inspection. Carvana, like CarMax, has a huge supply and also does careful vehicle inspections. The difference is that Carvana is entirely an on the internet vehicle buying experience. And also Carvana delivers the cars and truck to you! Craigslist doesn't bill you a purchase fee (like ebay.com does). eBay Motors markets cars and trucks with online auctions and buy-it-now straight acquisitions. Display room grass can be dangerous, yet sometimes, the very best deals come from purchasing from an exclusive proprietor. Independent utilized vehicle dealers are likewise a clever area to look. Certain, you need to discuss with aggressive sales people, however you can certainly locate an offer at a strong car dealership. Step 4: Identify the Utilized Car's Worth Currently it's time to identify if the used automobile you have actually picked deserves the price. Collect all the info you can on the cars and truck so you can talk the vendor down to a much better deal. 1. Start with Kelley Directory (KBB). KBB uses data collected from real sales purchases and also auction prices to give you an exact price variety for the made use of cars and truck. 2. Buy a car history report (VHR). A good VHR prices regarding $50 as well as consists of mishap history, possession background, and also a lots of various other records. A VHR eliminates a great deal of uncertainty regarding the used car because it will certainly reveal you if the automobile has actually been in any kind of mishaps or has actually already invested a great deal of time in the shop. Vehicle Background supplies a totally free fundamental record, however if you will drop a couple grand on a used vehicle, purchase a detailed record from CARFAX. You'll require the VIN number (usually discovered beneath the windshield on the driver's side). Pro suggestion: If the VIN number has been damaged off or eliminated, don't buy the auto. That's a big warning. Possibilities are, the secondhand vehicle has actually been taken or the seller is concealing something. 3. Determine the possession price. That's what you'll spend to preserve the vehicle (oil modifications, new tires, liquid purges) as well as what long-term fixings you must anticipate for the make and design you're taking a look at. You'll likewise require to understand the costs and availability of substitute parts since parts for some automobiles are extra costly than others. You can make use of Edmunds Real Price to Own device to get a great price quote. 4. Discover on-line discussion forums concentrated on the used cars and truck. Virtually every design has an online forum with strings extending back a great while. Seek common concerns that owners have had with the type of automobile you wish to get. 5. Check the automobile's recall history. Don't think the vendor has actually dealt with a used automobile's security recalls. Actually, over 70 million vehicles get on the roadway with open recalls on them.6 And yeah, you guessed it-- people still try to market those automobiles without getting the recall fixed. So what can you do? Examine the National Highway Web Traffic Administration for your automobile's recall background (if it has one). 6. Request an insurance quote. Used cars and trucks are normally less costly to guarantee than brand-new ones. Actually, a 5-year-old auto is about 14% less costly to insure than its brand-new equivalent.7 If you already have insurance, ask how much your premium will certainly alter if you buy a certain make and also model. Work with an independent insurance policy agent who will do the buying you. Tip 5: Inspect the Made Use Of Auto Yourself Even if you're not a mechanic, you can use this listing of advice from the Department of Motor Automobiles to check for signs of damage and misuse. While none of these things alone should quit you from acquiring the automobile (except for major damage, like a blown head gasket), a bunch of these can stop you from buying somebody else's cars and truck trouble. Under the Hood Examine the oil level as well as color. Oil dipsticks lie near the engine (generally a yellow stick). Oil must be light brown. If there's no oil in the engine, that's a good sign this is a bad deal. Check the shade of the oil under the oil cap (located on the engine). If it's milky-- what some mechanics call "mayonnaise"-- do not buy the used cars and truck. If the oil is milk like, it's combining with coolant, a common indication of a blown head gasket (in some cases a $3,500 fixing). Check the belts. Belts lie around the engine, occasionally on the engine's side, so you may need a flashlight for this action. Belts ought to be smooth with no fractures. Broken belts aren't a bargain breaker, but you'll require to replace them quickly. Examine the transmission liquid dipstick (generally a red stick). Transmission liquid ought to be pink or red. If it's black and also smells burned, that's a poor indication. Transmission replacements are costly, so if you locate that the vendor hasn't replaced the fluid in a while, reevaluate buying the used cars and truck. Check the degree of the coolant. It needs to be between minimum as well as optimum. The coolant tank is someplace near the radiator. If you can't find the reservoir, ask the seller where it's located. Caution: Don't open the coolant cap while the engine is hot or if the automobile is running. Check the brake fluid. Make sure it's at the highest level. Outdoors Check out the cars and truck's paint work. Look for damages and also scratches. Check the tires. They ought to all coincide (not mismatched), as well as they should have also put on across the width. Look for scuffs, splits and cuts along the sidewall. Check the spare tire too. Examine the tail pipeline. If it's black, that indicates the vehicle is shedding oil-- an additional poor indicator. Open and shut the doors, as well as the trunk, fuel door and gas cap. Ensure they all job. Inspect the lights. Ask the vendor to run the directional signal, fronts lights and brake lights as you make sure (outside the car) that they function. Inside Take a deep breath. If the cars and truck smells mildewy or if you see mold under the seats, there's a likelihood the car has water damage that could bring about expensive electric problems. If there's an air freshener or if the cars and truck scents suspiciously scented, open the windows and also leave them open as you examine drive the car. When you're done with the test drive, you'll have the ability to smell the car's natural scent. Check the endure the steering wheel, seats and also pedals. Minor wear can be anticipated-- particularly if it's an older cars and truck. Lock and also unlock all doors. Make sure they function. Check A/C as well as heating. Everybody takes these things for provided ... till they don't function. Idle the cars and truck and watch the temperature scale. You do not want to acquire a pre-owned vehicle that overheats. See to it the radiator followers kick on when the temperature starts increasing. Step 6: Opt For a Test Drive When you're taking the vehicle for your initial test-drive, turn off the stereo and ask your guests (perfectly) to stay peaceful so you can pay attention for any problems. Before you test-drive, choose a route with hills, bumps and, yep, even potholes. Even if you intend to make use of the automobile on highways and level roadways, examination the auto on harsh roads to get a feeling of just how it handles the roadway.

Utilize your test-drive to respond to these inquiries:

Feel Exactly how does it feel on level roads? Smooth or bumpy? Just how does it feel when it hits a bump or pothole? Does it rock aggressively? Does the auto battle to pick up speed? Do the equipments transform smoothly? Is the brake squishy or also delicate? How does your body really feel after the test drive? Was the seat uncomfortable?

Sound Does the engine sound smooth when you increase? Does the engine rattle, knock or grind when you still? Are there resonances or weird noises under the hood when you speed up over 60 MPH? Do the brakes squeak?

View Can you see out of the cars and truck easily? Do you need to stress your neck to check your blind spots? Does black smoke come out of the exhaust when you begin the car or increase? Is the RPM gauge constant when you idle? Does it rise and fall way too much?

Smell Transform the cooling to a modest setting. Do you scent burning oil? Action 7: Take the Made Use Of Vehicle to a Reliable Mechanic If the car has actually passed your individual examination, great. Currently allow's see if it passes the technician's examination. If the vendor does not want an auto mechanic to evaluate the vehicle, that's a negative sign. Constantly have a mechanic check a secondhand car, regardless of the condition. A great auto mechanic will inform if you will purchase a trustworthy previously owned cars and truck or if it has any type of issues.

When it pertains to assessments, you have two options:

Take the cars and truck to a trustworthy garage. Most cars and truck garages charge a flat charge for checking made use of automobiles. They'll place the automobile on the lift, check for corrosion and also corrosion, as well as tell you if the utilized auto has extreme fluid leakages. If you're working with a private seller who does not desire you to take the vehicle off his/her residential property, established a mobile assessment. A technician will pertain to the vehicle, execute the examination, and print out the results. If a technician tells you the car has problems that surpass its worth, kindly tell the vendor you're no longer interested, or utilize that knowledge to reduce the asking price. Tip 8: Usage Arrangement Skills If you have excellent factors to believe the vendor must decrease the asking cost, you can utilize everything you've just learned about utilized automobiles as ammo to work out a far better bargain. Arrangements can be tough for people who don't like to be confrontational. Bargain like a professional with these 3 ideas. 1. Bring your research to the table. Allow's say the vendor wants $3,000 for his previously owned Volkswagen Jetta. Kelley Directory claims the ordinary rate range for that Jetta is $2,800 to $3,000. But you observed that the tires are bald as well as a front lights does not function. And also you review online that this version has troubles with radiator followers. Your VHR reveals no owner has actually ever before replaced the radiator followers. Ah-ha! Now you have actually got something. Bring all this details to the seller-- factor in the cost of tires, a front lights and a radiator follower-- and supply less. 2. Pay in cash money. Inform the seller you'll be paying for your used car in cash money-- just don't expose how much money you have. When vendors sniff eco-friendly, they're most likely to agree on your terms. 3. Hold your horses. If the vendor does not budge, you can leave. You have all the acquiring power. Most of the moment, they need your money more than you require their vehicle.

This article is written by https://allamericanexporter.com/

#cars #usedcars #toyota #bmv

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