#everyone in college has some sort of plans with their friends and i’m sulking alone in my fucking room

[kashviiii]

i need new friends 👍🏼

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Girl’s Choice

Draco X Reader (highschool!AU)

Summary: Everything was absolutely fine in his small town, until you stumbled in and began to defy the status quo.

A/n: So, guess who got Midnight Sun and has been reading it non-stop for the past few days? Me. It was me. So, please enjoy this Twilight Parody of our favorite characters. Also I get to move back to college in like a week and I am EXCITED--mainly because there’s a good chance that I get a room to myself bc of the virus. So yay me. I love you guys a lot and really thank you for your patience and enthusiasm. It makes me smile. 

“So, Gin asked me to the dance this morning,” Harry was chatting you up—a normal occurrence before class started.

Draco didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. He really didn’t, but he was intrigued about how this would go down. Since moving to the small town, you had been a buzz among the boys in the grade level. Draco could all but assume that most of the fantasized about you asking them to the girl’s choice dance coming up.

“That’s great!” You genuinely smiled. “You’ll have a lot of fun!”

Harry fumbled, losing his casual composure. You noted on it, and your look became more skeptical and judgmental—something Pansy would approve of.

“Well, I told her I’d think about it,”

This surprised Draco as much as it seemed to surprise you. It was no secret that star lacrosse player Weasley and Potter were all but official and had been for almost all of high school.

“Why in the world would you tell her that?” Your words mimicked his thoughts.

“Well... I thought maybe you’d... want to ask me?” He ran a hand through his usually untidy mass of curls.

Draco could not make this up if he wanted to. He barely suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape his lips. How in hell had Harry figured that you’d want to go to the dance with him? You’d been here maybe a month. As far as Draco knew, you weren’t interested in anyone. Perhaps the small town didn’t have enough shine for your city lights.

“You should tell Ginny yes, Harry,” You scolded him like a child. “It’s rude to make a girl wait,”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sulked, his face falling as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

Draco couldn’t wipe the amused smirk from his face. You huffed annoyed and opened your notes, already prepping a new page for today’s lesson. You didn’t pay him any mind during class—a normality between the pair of you. Draco ignored you and you returned the favor. It was almost easier this way for him. Your shiny new toy status had no effect on him. He had every shiny toy he ever wanted. You had no appeal to him.

Harry, however, Draco stole glances over from time to time. The green-eyed jock pouted throughout the entire lesson, stealing glances over to you. You hardly noticed. Instead you were doodling in your notebook, waiting for the teacher to move on.

Maybe the stars aligned, or maybe you did fascinate him, but Draco found himself in the lunch line next to you the following day as another tried to ask you to the girls choice ball.

“So, I heard you turned down Potter,” Cedric gave off-hand. “Waiting to ask someone else then?”

Draco snorted, and this time you did give him the slightest glare before turning back to Cedric.

“I’m not going,” You answered curtly, grabbing fruit from the stand. “And no, I don’t plan on asking anyone.”

“Why aren’t you going?” Cedric almost pouted.

“There doesn’t have to be a reason.” You snapped. “I’m not going,”

Draco could only imagine the glare that you gave Cedric for him to back off so quickly. Again, a smile quirked at his lips. You might be the shiny new toy, but you weren’t going to be used like a porcelain doll.

“So, has she asked anyone yet?” Pansy asked as he sat beside her at their usual lunch table.

“She’s not going, and you totally missed her going off on Diggory,” Draco grinned. “That girl has to have a glare that rivals yours,”

“She turns down Potter and Diggory... do you think maybe she’s into chicks?” Pansy asked almost hopeful.

“Wouldn’t know and don’t care,” Draco shrugged. “Besides, she’s not going to the dance so go ask Greengrass before it’s too late,”

Pansy sulked and stabbed her salad with a bit more vigor than before.

You stormed into the chemistry classroom a bit more irritated than he had seen you in the cafeteria. He wanted to guess that another guy had tried to ask you to the girl’s choice dance because honestly it amused him to see you so upset. It was cute how riled up you could get from some unwanted attention. He wondered how far you’d have to be pushed before you actually started swinging. Maybe he wanted to find out.

“So,” He asked pointedly. “Anyone else try to ask you to the dance?” 

“Oh, fuck off Malfoy,” You hissed making him grin wider.

“Well, I was wondering if—”

“If you even start to finish that, I won’t be so forgiving,” Your hand clenched into a fist and Draco thought that maybe you’d actually try to hit him, but Snape walked in as the bell rang, taking any chance away from you.

Draco sat back smugly in his chair—to your great annoyance—as class droned on. At the end of the hour Draco followed you out, calling your name. You froze in the hallway, before turning to face him.

“I’m really not in the mood right now Draco,” Your strained voice gave a hint of weariness. “What is even with you guys? Can’t you just leave a girl alone? I’m not going to the stupid dance and I’m not just saying that so I can ask someone else,”

Before Draco could get a word in you stalked away, disappearing in the crowd. And he stood there, dumbfounded. Was he not amused an hour ago about your annoyance? Did it not make him smile that you were tortured by your suitors? Why all of a sudden was he frowning and loathing Potter and Diggory—and whatever poor bloke had the unfortunate courage to ask you before class—even more for winding you up?

“It was Krum,” Pansy didn’t even say hello as she sat next to him in Spanish. “He was the one who tried to ask her,”

“She said no to Krum?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “You might be right, she really might swing the other way,”

“Aw, but I already asked Daphne,” Pansy pouted.

“Pans, darling, I think if anyone else breathes near her about the dance she’s gonna send someone to the nurse,” Draco chuckled. “So maybe you dodged a bullet there,”

She sighed wistfully. “Still, it’s nice to dream,”

____________________________________

“So, did you ask anyone to the dance yet?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this,” I huffed, kicking off my shoes. “I’m not going to that stupid dance,”

“Well, I know it’s probably not as glitzy as your uptown shindigs, but you should still go and have fun,” My dad set down his paper. “Make some friends while you’re here,” His tone was hopeful, as I knew it would be.

He wanted me to be happy here. He wanted me to fit in and enjoy my time in the middle of nowhere. It was a farfetched dream. But it was mine, I supposed.

“I have a few friends,” I insisted. “But I’m not one for dances... and the guys in town aren’t exactly... appealing,” I decided.

“Well, not that a father will complain about his daughter not wanting to date, but maybe you should go with a group of friends or something?”

“Everyone’s paired off, dad,” I sighed, looking in the fridge for something to make for dinner.

As I set off to do my chemistry homework, my mind meandered to my chem partner. It was out of character that he spoke to me today. Normally we disregarded another in comfortable silence. It had been that way since I showed up. And though it might have stung a bit in the beginning, I could tell quickly that Draco and his friends were the wrong sort of crowd that I didn’t want to be caught up in. The kind of crowds that I escaped by moving from my city life.

And I liked the crowd I had found; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all very sweet and welcoming on my first day and had sort of adopted me into their group without looking back. Not that there was much depth in any of their lunchroom conversations, but at least I wasn’t alone. Hermione was the only one I could hold a conversation with—she had AP classes as I did and was a saint when I needed homework guidance.

Chemistry, however, was the one subject she couldn’t help me with. She had opted out for AP Environmental instead, claiming she had done her time with Snape and would rather dropout than be in his class another year.

So, it left me begrudgingly texting Draco about tonight’s homework. He was the only other one in class that seemed to keep up easily. Maybe it was because he was a shoe shiner class pet of Snape’s.

Malfoy: Oh, so you’re talking to me now. Don’t want yell at me again?

My cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment at his response. He was never one to hold back what he was thinking—even if it was brutal.

Y/n: I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t fair to you. I’d give a reason, but I doubt you’d care

Malfoy: Pansy already told me that Krum tried to ask you to the dance. That’s what? Three guys now? If I hadn’t stopped her, Pansy wanted to ask you too.

Y/n: At least it would have been a girl asking me to a girl’s choice

Y/n: And you’re short one, Ron asked me too

Malfoy: Weasel? Wow. Never thought he’d have the guts to ask anyone 

Y/n: He’s actually going with Hermione

Y/n: Now will you please help me on 7?

And to my surprise, Draco was quite civil about walking me through the covalent bonding prompts. It made me feel a bit more guilty about snapping at him earlier today.

Seeing how I struggled on the homework, I wasn’t surprised that Harry came over during study hall and asked me for help on the same, if not more, questions. After the first couple, he griped that I was too similar to Hermione for knowing it all. And that it wasn’t fair that it came so easily to me.

“Actually, Draco helped me,” I smiled as I showed my notes to Harry for the next question. “He might help you if you ask,”

That was a long shot. Harry hated Draco and vice versa. It didn’t take me long to figure that one out.

“Malfoy helped you? Like actually helped you?” Harry scoffed. “The little prat,”

“Hey,” I warned snatching my notes away. “If you’re not gonna be nice about it I won’t let you use my notes,”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Harry pouted. “You know I was kidding,”

“Yahuh. Sure Harry,”

“Oh, come on,” Harry tried again. “He’s a prat. Always has been,”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear anymore of Harry’s lamenting, and grabbed my bag. “I’ll be in the library,”

Wordlessly I left, fuming slightly. The music from my headphones thawed out my anger towards Harry a bit as I pushed the doors of the library open and sat at a table, pulling out my calculus homework to go over it one last time.

“This seat taken?”

I barely heard the question over my music. My eyes darted up to meet steady grey ones.

“It’s a free country,” I shrugged then remembered that I want particularly irate towards Draco at the moment. “Thank you, by the way,” I murmured, taking out one of my headphones. “For the chem help,”

“I might have had an ulterior motive,” Draco mumbled, pulling out a binder.

“If you think I’m gonna ask you to the dance because you helped me with my homework you have another thing coming Malfoy,” I warned.

“I think every guy in the school has got that by now,” a smile played at his lips. “No, I... I need help in McGonagall,” He was almost sheepish to admit it.

I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but he did seem genuine about needing help.

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help, but I can try. My old teacher, Jones had a different way of explaining it...” I trailed off, a pang of remorse about leaving my old school in my chest.

And maybe the way Jones taught me made more sense to Draco because he did eventually start to understand the calculus on the paper beneath us. I realized that Draco was very methodical. He enjoyed having rules that worked every time no matter the question. A failsafe that kept him ahead of the curve.

“Do you miss it?” He asked as we started to pack for the next hour. 

“Miss what?”

“Your old school? It has to be a lot different than this hell hole,” His words were nonchalant but still skeptical.

“It’s not so bad here,” I defended weakly. “But... I miss it, yeah. I feel like I have to prove myself all over again. Back home—back in New York no one questioned me. The teachers trusted me... the staff knew me...” I sighed. “I’m a stranger here.”

The warning bell rang and the same sense of dread that settled upon me reflected in Draco’s eyes: we were halfway across campus and there was little hope of getting to Snape’s class in the two minutes we had left.

Both scrambling, we headed for the doors and tore down the hall. I followed Draco’s path because if I was honest, I still didn’t quite know my way around the school nor the quickest ways to certain buildings.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Snap looked down disapprovingly at me. “I hope you have reason for being late or it’s Saturday detention for you,”

My anxiety spiked as I fumbled out an explanation. In the corner of my eye, I saw Harry stand, ready to come to my defense, but there was no need. Flawlessly Draco directed the attention of the irritated teacher to him with a sly smile and quick lie, that wasn’t really a lie at all.

“It was my fault,” Draco smoothed quickly. “I was having Y/n help me with McGonagall’s homework and I kept her late.”

Snape’s eyes darted between the two of us before he sighed, telling us to get to our seats before he gave out detentions for disrupting his class.

With a breath of relief, I sat beside Draco. 

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He shrugged and took out his notes and homework just as Snape began to go over it. And we went back to ignoring each other. Except, this time, it deemed impossible for me not to glance at him every so often, or for my eyes not to drift to his notes on the table, making sure that I hadn’t missed anything. The hour seemed to end quicker than normal. As usual, Harry walked to gym with me, chatting about the upcoming game before the dance this weekend.

“So, you and Malfoy?” The comment caught me off guard. “I don’t like it,”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing Harry,” I shrugged. “No need to let your little feud make up wild stories. He just needed help with calc,”

“Sure, the golden boy needed help with his homework,” Harry said flatly. “That’s believable.” 

“And what about it is so farfetched?” I demanded.

“He’s doing it for some reason. He knows you turned me down, maybe he’s trying to get at me by being nice to you,” The offhand comment had my blood boiling.

“Are you serious right now!?” I snapped. “What is so wrong with you that you can’t see past your own ego!?”

Storming off, the only relief from my anger I was allowed happened when I ‘accidentally’ pelted Harry with a ball in the face, sending him to the nurse. When my anger faded, doubt remained. Was Draco only trying to be nice to me to get at Harry? From what I knew of Draco secondhand, I wouldn’t put it past him.

______________________________

Draco was shocked when Snape had called on you for a homework answer, and you admitted that you didn’t know. Didn’t you know that he didn’t mind you texting him about the homework? That helping you wasn’t the worst waste of his time in the world? You had done it before. Not days ago. And yet you allowed yourself to be ridiculed by Snape for your lack of habitual knowledge.

You didn’t notice the small frown that lingered on his face for the remainder of class as you kept your head down and doodled in your notebook. Deciding that he didn’t like your comatose, he did something that deemed childish: he passed you a note.

You ok?

You stared at the paper and looked over at him, biting your lip before scribbling: 

Fine. Pay attention.

Rolling his eyes, he took the paper back and wrote:

I can’t if you’re over here moping.

You took the small piece of paper and crumpled it in your hands, shoving it into your bag. Draco decided to leave you alone for the rest of the hour his curiosity still burning through him. A quick meeting of Harry’s livid stare, and Draco had a better idea of what was going on. He just hoped, for perhaps the first time ever, that he was wrong.

“Oi, what the hell did you say to Y/n?” Draco demanded, singling Potter out in the hall the next morning.

His curiosity and suspicions had festered over the night. Draco had made the conscious decision to text you, asking if you needed help with chem, and your lack of response had him worrying again.

“What are you going on about Malfoy?” Ron crossed his arms, coming to Harry’s defense.

“Stay out of this weasel,” Draco hissed, noticing the crowd that began to gather around the small confrontation. Most of his attention, however stayed focused on cold green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Malfoy,” Harry tipped his chin back. “What? Is she not bowing down at your feet like you’re used too?” A laugh barked out of him and Weasley and a few other onlookers.

“At least she’s got enough self-respect to not be on her knees for you,” Draco heard the familiar condescending voice of Pansy beside him. A grin curled onto his face at her words.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that it seemed, and it further proved Draco’s suspicions. 

“So, you did say something to her,” He accused. “She got her not a month ago and you’re already dragging her into our mutual hatred?” Draco wouldn’t stoop that low. It was pathetic. 

“Well if you hadn’t gone and pretended to need help with McGonagall’s work, there wouldn’t be a problem,” Harry gritted, as if he had the high ground.

“As opposed to you who pretends he doesn’t need help them blames others when he fails?” Draco snapped.

There was quite a large crowd gathering around now, and he and Harry were less than a foot apart. Both boys were on the verge of snapping.

“Draco?”

Your voice was enough to distract him that he didn’t see Harry throw the first punch. Pain blistered across his jaw as fury burned in his eyes. Now the kids around them were chanting and egging on the fight. But Draco never had the chance to swing back.

Because you had drove yourself into the cleared circle and delivered a few punches of your own.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You shouted at him kneeing him in the groin leaving him keeled over, groaning. “I told you to back the fuck off!”

Draco wasn’t as surprised at the comment as he was about the knowledge that you knew how to beat the pulp out of a star football player without a whim. You never seemed like the athletic type but the blood pouring from Harry’s nose begged that you were slightly more dangerous than Draco had originally thought.

“Are you okay?” Your wild worried eyes were trained on him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh, but the hurt that flickered across your face made him regret them.

He wished he had time to explain exactly why you shouldn’t have done that, but McGonagall and Snape were already upon the scene and threatening detentions. He and Harry, of course, were called out as the other students scattered.

“McGonagall, please,” You stood loyally beside him, despite his harsh words. “Draco didn’t have a hand in this, I did.”

Both teachers raised their eyebrows in surprise. Draco just gaped at you. Harry was glaring and still bleeding.

“I see. All three of you go to Dumbledore’s office.” She said, her careful eyes not leaving yours.

Harry strode off first, perhaps feeling smug in the fact that either way, you or Draco would be in trouble for this encounter. Draco wondered if you knew you had just bought yourself three days suspension for fighting.

You were silent beside him as you flexed your hand. He pondered if you had hurt it in your fervor. He almost asked you. Then he remembered the hurt on your face at his last words and decided against it. You wouldn’t want to talk to him.

“So,” Dumbledore said pointedly. “I heard there was a bit of a skirmish today in the hall,” An amused smile sat upon the principal’s face, no doubt taking in Harry’s state. Draco wondered if his skin was bruising yet.

“It was me,” Draco said not realizing what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t you even,” You were scathing at him, your hands clenched again, pain flitting across your face—you definitely hurt your hand then. You turned to Dumbledore. “Harry swung at Draco and I stepped in. I’m the one who did it.”

“Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow.

Harry seemed like he was debating whether or not he wanted to admit getting beat up by a girl. The thought made Draco smile, causing his jaw to hurt. He tried to flex it but halted when pain blossomed again.

“That’s what happened,” Harry admitted under his breath.

“And why, Mr. Malfoy, did Potter swing at you?” Dumbledore turned to him, an amused smile lingering on his face.

“I thought that Harry had said something to her that hurt her. She... wasn’t keeping up on homework and it was unlike her. After she turned Harry’s proposal to the dance down, I thought...”

“You turned down Mr. Potter’s proposal to the girl’s choice dance?” The principal turned back to you.

“His, Weasley’s, Cedric’s, Viktor’s,” You muttered, much to Dumbledore’s delight as the older man began to chuckle.

“Had quite a welcome here, haven’t you?”

“You could say that again,” Folding your arms, your face became solemn. 

“And do you have a reason for your actions?”

“I don’t like bullies, no matter where they come from,” Confidence founded your voice as you squared your shoulder. Never once had Draco ever heard someone call Harry a bully. The words had always been reversed. Everyone in the school saw the reputation in Draco, never Harry.

“Well, under normal circumstances, I’d have to suspend you and Mr. Potter here, but instead, I’m suspending you from being allowed to the dance this weekend. All three of you,”

“But sir!” Harry argued.

“Not another word Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore rose from his office chair. “My decision is final.”

Three ‘yes sir’s were mumbled as the three of you filed out of the office. You began to walk away, towards your next class Draco assumed, but he caught your non-injured hand, Harry slinking away himself.

“Let me go,” You shrugged him off.

“Wait,” Draco caught up to you, blocking you in the narrow hall of the office. “Look, about what I said,”

“Forget it Draco,” You snapped, and he could see unshed tears in your eyes. “Just leave me alone,” You pressed past him with a bit more force than necessary that had him after you again.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He called, and you actually paused, your head turning in interest.

“Then what did you mean?” Your voice with thick. “Cuz all I see is a rich little prat who can’t say thank you. Or a self-centered guy who thinks I need someone to fight my battles for me. A high and mighty guy who thinks he can tell me what to do,” Your words were sharp and snarled. “So please, tell me what you meant.” The challenge dripped dangerously from your scowl.

“I...” Draco fumbled for the right words. “I’m not worth getting suspended for,” Your anger turned to confusion, turned sympathy, turned neutral.

“But I’m worth fighting for,” It was a stubborn and bold declaration. “And I know that,” A pause as you turned to leave. “So yeah, I should have done that,”

___________________________

I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my face as I nearly ran to the parking lot, yearning for the safety of my car. Slamming the door shut, I let out a frustrated yell and slumped in the seat.

The backroads under my tires held a calming solace as I drove the long way home. It was something that New York couldn’t replace: the backroads I had grown up on. With the windows down and the radio blaring, all of my thoughts were tuned out.

At a red light, I found the courage to call my father and explain what happened. He said I was grounded this weekend for fighting, but I didn’t mind much. It got me out of having to go to the dance, even if Dumbledore hadn’t already said I couldn’t. I smiled when my dad told me he was proud for standing up for myself and beating the hell out of Harry.

I found myself smiling as I pulled in at home. Icing my hand and popping some pain killers just in case, I scrolled through my notifications, only answering Hermione. I didn’t care what the school gossiped about or what rumors started because of the fight. Hermione just wanted to know if I was okay and if I’d want her to send the homework from the classes I missed. I told her yes to both and thanked her.

Another notification popped up.

Draco: are you okay? how’s your hand?

I stared at the notification, and instead of deleting the icon like I should have, I opened it and gazed at the words. His mood swings were giving me whiplash. I thought about ignoring it, but he had already seen that I had read it. Cursing modern technology, I responded.

Y/n: fine

Mulling it over, I sent another text.

Y/n: can you send me the chem homework? please

The messages that followed were unexpected. Steady and clear photos of his notes for the day— and week it looked like—as well as the worksheet Snape had given. I felt a pang if gratitude towards Draco in that moment and his words from earlier settled in.

Draco has confronted Harry because he was worried about me. Somehow, he had picked up on how Harry’s words had affected me and driven me into doubt and a few missing homework assignments. Tears sprung back up in my eyes without my consent. It left me regretting the words I had snapped at him earlier. I let him know as much with another text.

Draco: most of it was justified

Draco: I know I’m not the easiest person to know 

Y/n: I was still wrong to say it. I’m sorry

Y/n: and you’re not so bad :)

There wasn’t a response from him for half an hour, so I settled down and began to transcribe his notes into my own notebook, then began to untangle the questions that the worksheet gave me. The crumpled note from a few days ago spilled out of my bag. I took it, unfurling it, running my hand over his words. I tucked it in my chemistry binder, smiling softly at his kindness.

Anxiety fluttered in my chest the next day as I drove up to school and parked in my usual spot. I felt torn between two clicks—probably the only two clicks this school had, and I had managed to get caught in the middle of a turf war—the thing that I wanted to escape by moving back in with my dad and I still managed to find myself in the same situations. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the problem.

Shaking the thought, I headed to first hour just as the bell rang in my efforts to avoid confrontation. Other than a few approving comments from my sorta friends, no one seemed put out that I had fought their golden boy. It eased my anxiety as the day went on. I was quelled a bit more when I heard that Harry wasn’t in school today. And maybe I smiled at that a bit.

“The jackass deserved it,” Ginny shrugged, “If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have hesitated either,”

She calmed the majority of my fears with her words unknowingly. If there had been one person I didn’t want to cross it was Ginny—she was fierce and took no prisoners. If the school had a queen bee, it would have been Gin.

“Is your hand alright?” Luna asked during art class. “You seem a bit off your game today,” She noticed my failing live portrait.

Luna was always quiet but observant of others, and it drew me towards the peaceful girl. Her calm nature as well as my fierce need to protect her from bullies kept me as her partner despite the seat changes in Trelawney’s art class. The teacher didn’t seem to care as Luna and I were some of her best students although Luna’s whimsical style contrasted my realistic preference heavily.

“It hurts a bit,” I answered truthfully. “But not enough to cry about,” There were yellow and purplish tinges to my knuckles, but nothing was broken.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Luna semi-whispered. “Are you and Draco together?”

“No,” I answered a bit more harshly than I meant and refined my answer. “I was tired of Harry being an egotistical ass and dragging me into it,”

“He’s probably just jealous,” Luna gave offhand, adding some shading to her sketch. “Boys are like that,”

“Jealous? Of what?” I scoffed. “He’s with Ginny, and it’s not like I fancy anyone at this school,”

“Yes, I heard about all the failed proposals to the dance.” A smile touched her lips, “Regardless, from the outside, the only person you’ve shown interest in is Draco, and Harry doesn’t like it,”

“Well, he needs to get over it,” I muttered. “I’m not some prize to be won,”

My annoyance didn’t fade as I slumped into my seat at lunch, grateful that Harry was absent today because I might have just gone off on him again. Stupid teenage boys thinking they have some claim over a girl.

Harry was back the next day, looking worse for wear. I went to apologize, but he didn’t allow me too, saying he deserved it and the he was the one who was sorry. I wondered if Ginny had a hand in his apology. Shrugging, I decided it didn’t matter. At least Harry, and maybe everyone else at the small school, knew that I could handle myself.

The weekend passed, and I didn’t notice much. Hermione sent me a few pictures of the dance. They held no interest to me, but at least they were having fun.

On Monday, it seemed that Draco had gone back to ignoring me. At least that’s how it appeared for about the first half of Snape’s lecture. Then every so often I’d catch him staring at me, or my notes. His eyes would quickly dart down when he realized that I had noticed his gazes. It left me frowning and struggling to focus.

It was Wednesday that Hermione and I talked about the calculus test coming up on Friday. I glanced over to Draco, wondering if he’d need help or a study partner for the exam. I wondered if he’d be too proud to ask. Or if I’d be too stubborn to offer.

“Go over there and ask,” Hermione nudged my arm, picking up on my train of thought.

“I shouldn’t,” I shook my head. “Besides, you’d be a better tutor than I am,”

“Yes, but Draco doesn’t like me. You on the other hand,” An amused smile lingered on her face.

“We’re friends,” I insisted. “That’s all,”

“More than it was last week,” She pointed out. “Draco’s always been a stuffy prat, but I see how he is with you. He’s almost... normal.”

My eyes shifted back over to his lunch table, where he was hunched over a book, tuning out the dark-haired girl beside him as she prattled about something adamantly. Something the girl said must have caught Draco’s attention, perhaps she warned him about my gaze, because his eyes met mine. I looked down quickly, my cheeks flushing.

“He’s coming over,” Hermione whispered.

“Stop staring,” I hissed under my breath, breaking my own rule by looking up.

“Can I talk to you?” His voice was quiet and guarded, his eyes sliding over my company. 

“What’s up?” I asked casually.

“Alone?”

I looked to Hermione who was saying if I didn’t go, she’d never forgive me with a single look.

“Sure,” I stood, gathering my things and followed him out of the cafeteria and down the halls, to the library. “Did you want help for the calc test Friday?” I asked softly as we sat at the same table as our previous encounter.

“Well, yes,” He chuckled softly. “I... also wanted to talk to you... about last week, and...” His eyes refused to meet mine. I waited in silence for him to continue. “This... this doesn’t have to be anything, and I know you’d probably rather it weren’t... but I’ve never actually...”

I raised my eyebrows, leaning closer to him, the butterflies in my chest growing more restless with each second that passed. They had begun to arrive on the day of the fight, and now it seemed like they were taking flight for the first time.

“You came here a month ago... and in that time have managed to capture every guys heart in this school and then proceeded to turn most of them down. You’ve gotten into fights and out of trouble and you’re really someone I should avoid, but... I don’t want to, not anymore.”

“You think you should avoid me?” The question was soft on my lips. His eyes flashed to mine in brief panic.

“Again, not what you think,” He sighed and scrubbed his face, then proceeded to wince at the pain that no doubt was triggered by his action. “I should avoid you because if I’m being honest, I’m not much better than Harry, and I wouldn’t be someone you’d want to be with. And it would make it easier for the both of us if I avoided you.”

“Cards on the table then?” I mused softly and he nodded, begging my candor. “I know what they say about you. And I have my own opinions, but...” I paused and smiled. “You are the first guy who hasn’t acted like an arrogant jackass to me,” Then mended, “At least in a way that hasn’t made me want to deck you,”

“That’s comforting,” A smile reached his eyes this time.

“And... if it had to be anyone... I’d probably want it to be you,” This surprised him, told by the expression on his face. “In terms of intelligence, I feel semi-confident to say that you wouldn’t drive me mad with your lack of knowledge, because most of the kids at this school are so dull,” I muttered then continued. “You’ve been kind to me, and never pushed me into doing anything I haven’t wanted to do,”

“So, you wanted to beat the shit out of Potter then?” The same smile turned to a grin.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” I chuckled softly. “You gave me a valid excuse, to which I thank you,”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? For ya know, being my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue?”

I laughed at his words and shook my head at his antics.

“Does that make you my damsel in distress?” It never occurred to me how easy it might be to talk to Draco, considering we’d barely said a word to each other since my arrival.

“If I must be,” He feigned distaste, the smile not leaving his face long enough to convince me of his façade.

A silence fell between us.

“Is this something then?” His words were riddled with uncertainty.

“It’s not nothing,” I offered. “But I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Would you be willing to see what it is?” Draco’s voice turned hopeful.

“If you’re willing to be patient,” My eyes met his grey ones, storms above the seas held in them. “I don’t really... date. Flings and a list of exes isn’t really on my bucket list ya know?”

“Understandable,” His smile returning. “Not that I prefer them either,”

I sighed softly. “People are gonna talk, if they’re not already,” It was a defeating thought.

“Let them talk,” Draco shrugged, lost in thought. “That’s all they do. No matter where you go,”

“It’s a bit worse in a small town,” I challenged.

“I’ll give you that,” He chuckled. “But things are a bit less scandalous in a small town,”

“Granted,” I thought of New York and how the smallest things morphed into rumors and gossip that took down empires. Here, in the middle of nowhere our problems seemed almost trivial.

“So,” He raised an eyebrow at me, awaiting my verdict.

“So,” I mimicked. “This... this can be something,”

 ______________________________

Draco had never once thought of dating. Ever. Whereas Pansy couldn’t wait to have her next summer love, Draco... he was reserved. Not that he ever held it against Pansy, and of course he was there to curse the name of her exes with her, but him dating? It was laughable.

He could claim that ‘you weren’t like other girls,’ but it’d be a lie. You were just the perfect mix of being like other girls that appealed to him so much. The girls he had passed in the halls for years and never once felt attraction to were now suddenly a bit more interesting. Granger had calculus with you and was very good at the subject, sharing your passion for it. Ginny had the same fire in her eyes as you did when you were angry. Even Lovegood seemed less like a spaz and a bit more down to earth in the few passing moments that he saw her when picking you up from art class.

“I might warn you,” he whispered gently the next day, hand in yours as you headed to the cafeteria. “Pansy has been dying to talk to you... so heads up,”

A laugh fell through your lips as he opened the door for you, the cafeteria, once buzzing solemnly was now almost hushed as eyes turned to the couple at the door.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

Draco tensed at the curt calling of his name but relaxed when you smiled and waved to Ginny.

“Come sit with us,” The redhead offered. “No need in you taking Y/n away from us,”

“Get Pansy,” You smiled, letting his hand go as you went to drop your stuff at the table before heading toward the lunch line.

“Can I talk to her now?” Pansy demanded.

“She’s all yours,” Draco chuckled, trailing behind his dark-haired friend, a smile resting on his face as you entertained all of Pansy’s question with unbelievable grace.

Tensions were high as Draco sat with you at your usual lunch table, Pansy on his other side, but it seemed that you, Ginny, and Hermione had the boys under control, so nothing more than loathsome glares were exchanged before the conversation settled into something pleasant.

It took a couple weeks, but the bruises on your hand and his jaw faded, then soon Harry’s broken nose was healed, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. As if it were preposterous that your group ever had animosity against another.

True to your word and his, it wasn’t exactly dating. He dedicated a lot of his effort to figuring out what you were comfortable with and what you weren’t. Something that appealed to both of you was holding hands in the hallways. The gawking faces of those around you seemed to keep a smile on your face. You had tamed the rich prat and he had tamed the spitfire in their eyes. And perhaps he was a bit kinder to those around him. And maybe you weren’t as volatile. Maybe you had finally settled into the small town.

Slowly it seemed, you sifted into the role of a girlfriend—well, whatever the equivalent was for you and him. It took some coaxing and a compromise, but you allowed him to pick you up and drive you to school—three out of five days of the week. He looked forward to those mornings and didn’t mind leaving earlier as long as you were at the end of the road under his tires. You were defiant about him paying for things, mundane things like lunch or random gifts, so he tried to keep it at a minimum, or at least didn’t let on how much he had spent on you.

Draco was never one for physical affection. His parents had been distant and reserved. Closed off. He wasn’t bitter about it, but he was worried that it might affect how he was around you. But it seems that you were a bit standoffish as well. The abrasion faded over time, but it was still never over abundant. You held his hand, that was easy and almost routine for the both of you, and though he hadn’t kissed you yet, displays of make outs in the halls never appealed to any part of him. Ever.

But he wouldn’t forget the first time you kissed him. It was a quiet night at your place after you two had studied for Snape’s final. You declared if you looked at another carbon bond you were going to scream, so you slammed your binder shut and led him to the old sofa and pulled him down, both of you nestled beside another as you flickered through TV stations, settling on something that held half your interest.

His arm draped around your shoulder, a gentle sign of affection that you returned by resting your head on his shoulder, your arm stretching across his stomach, holding him. His hand absentmindedly played in your hair, earning soft sounds of agreement from your lips as he continued. Your exhausted face in the TV light held all of his interest. The way your eyelashes fluttered eleven your eyes changed focus, or the way you worried your lip now and again almost thoughtlessly. Never knowing that it drove him mad.

Draco called your name softly, earning your attention. Your faces were inches apart and he could feel your soft breaths mix with his. Your eyes searched his for something—what exactly he wasn’t sure. But you must have decided that whatever you found was enough, because you leaned up and closed the distance between your lips and his.

He smiled at the moment and the ones that followed. The desire that built in his chest and the gentle pant of need that left your lips, flushing across his as you pulled away.

“Thank you,” You had murmured.

He smiled at you simple gratitude and wondered why you thought it necessary. Did you believe that he didn’t want to kiss you? That you weren’t constantly in his psyche? Imagining how soft and warm your skin must be? Wondering if the rest of you was worked and scarred like your hands from years of use?

Not knowing what you were thinking—or why he was for that matter—he pulled you into his lap as the two of you sat on the couch, cradling you close, letting you know that he craved your affection though he wasn’t the best at portraying the ideal.

You had fallen asleep in his lap that night. When your dad came in to check on the two of you, Draco thought your father would be furious but instead he smiled and suggested that Draco carry you to your room so that you could stretched out on your bed and sleep for the night. Those were the few moments that Draco had ever been in your room. It was one of your fathers rules—which he humbly agreed to. The sight made him smile. It was perfectly you. An organized chaos of all of your favorite things.

You barely noticed him setting you into your bed and pulling the covers over your shoulders after removing you shoes.

He preferred your home over his. It took about two months before you coaxed him into the idea of meeting his parents formally. Draco was terrified, knowing that his parents disapproved just about everyone in the town they lived in, save a few families. He wasn’t sure how they felt about the divorcee and his daughter living on the outskirts of town.

“You understand how much of a bad idea this is?” Draco hissed as he walked you up the front steps of the pristine farmhouse—it was the last attempt he made before it was too late to back out.

“They’re just your parents,” You took his hand, saying the words nonchalantly.

“That’s why I’m worried! They’re my parents!” He dismayed.

“Dray, love, it’s gonna be okay,” You reassured, and he couldn’t argue with the honesty in your eyes.

You’d never stop surprising him. He didn’t think ever. He knew his parents were hard people to entertain. There were thousands of unspoken rules that they forced him to follow and you picked up on them as easily as you knew calculus. Sit one way, speak another, you blended in flawlessly. Your persona differed from the one he knew, but it was still perfectly you.

“And you moved here? From New York?” His father eyed you skeptically.

 “Father—” A cold look silenced Draco.

“Yes sir,” Your smile was sweet and conniving.

“Was the city not satisfactory for you?”

“It had a certain charm,” You spoke softly. “But I didn’t want to give my teenage years to a concrete jungle when I could call here my home,”

“Well,” Draco’s mother cut in before his father had a change to reply. “You sure do have quite a spirit in you. I can see what our Draco likes about you,”

You smiled and looked over at him. The blush on your cheeks matched his.

“Thank you,”

Lunch came and passed. If it was out of the ordinary in any way to you, you gave no sign.

You did however, pause, gazing at his grand piano that sat in the drawing room, your face pensive.

“You play?” He mused, curious. You hadn’t let on if your hidden talent. 

“Not very well,” You muttered back. “It’s been years.”

“Y/n, do you play my dear?” His mother cut in. “You must play for us,”

“I...” Glancing at the piano, you caught your lip in worry.

“Mother, if she isn’t comfortable, she doesn’t have to,” Draco defended.

“No, it’s alright... you must forgive me, it’s been a few years since I’ve played properly.”

The shy smile on your face didn’t fade as you made your way to the instrument. He shadowed you all the while, asking one more time before you began to play.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Your smile turned warmer. “It’ll be alright.”

Draco watched as you placed your hands on the glossy white keys and fell into a pattern as they searched for the next note, the next chord, the next verse. And you kept forging ahead until your piece had come to an end. Draco should have known that you’d lie about having the talent tucked away.

“That was lovely,” His mother fawned from somewhere behind. “Draco you must play with her,”

The eyebrow you raised at him informed him that maybe he also hid the talent from you unintentionally. Who did you think the piano belonged to?

“Any ideas?” He muttered softly, placing his hands on the keys next to yours.

“Moonlight Sonata?” It was a simple request, and one that he knew decently enough to nod.

Draco began the repetitive harmony as you waited for the melody and joined him. Your fingers played in time and in tune as the song unfolded—your hands trailing along the treble clef and his adding in the deeper bass tones.

It wasn’t until one of his hands ran into yours that the dance faltered, and four hands banged on the keys in frustration. Draco laughed at the simple fact that you had the same response to making a mistake as he did while playing. Your soft laughter joined his.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and you both turned, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of his father. Draco looked down anxious and respectful and you followed suit, your hand finding his in reassurance.

“Perhaps if you two had more time to practice together, you two wouldn’t be tripping over another.” His father mused.

“Father?” Draco looked up. “Does that mean?”

“Yes, she is welcomed here any time she wishes.” His father gave a small smile.

 Relief flooded through both of you. Draco might have even slouched momentarily. 

.

Masterlist

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[taerseok]

Blooming Daffodil

—Pairing: OT7 × reader (platonic)

—Synopsis: You’re a blooming daffodil. And you’re still learning, but with the help of your seven friends, you can make it through. You know it.

→ ‘The daffodil flower is known for its symbolism of new beginnings and rebirth.’

—Word Count: 2651

—Genre: Hurt/comfort

—Triggers: Some sadness here and there, nothing too major though!

『Hello! Looks like I'm posting again, after a while, lol. It's been a few months and I didn't expect to put this out so it's unedited in most areas. I wrote this to comfort myself so if it comes off as cringey pls don't mind lololol. Still, I hope you enjoy :D』

-

It’s dark and cold where you lay.

It’s silent, almost to the point of being unbearable. You’re unsure if it’s your bedroom you are sitting in, or just a random strange place. It’s unfamiliar, and you feel exhausted.

Your phone rests in your hand, your chin on the cool bed sheet. Is that the reason you are getting these chills and soon after, the hot rushing waves that fall upon you?

It’s Taehyung’s messages.

You replied back only a few moments earlier, and had the desire to say more but-

You’re suddenly exhausted.

Your body feels light, almost light enough to levitate in the cold, air-conditioned nothingness. There’s the faint sound of a melody playing in your head, but you don’t pay it mind.

Your heart’s too full, all at once, a little too tired to go on right now.

You’re not sad, by any means. In fact, if you tried, you could muster up some sort of a smile right now. It’d be tight and most certainly fake, it wouldn’t reach your eyes, but… It’d be there, nonetheless.

From [taehyungie]:

coming to the movie night at jungkook’s tonight?

i’ll pick you up if u want

There’s your stomach aching from anxiety, with everything that had been going on. College, you not being able to talk to your friends (who you doubt care), but even more than that, just not being able to feel alive in your own body.

You are far from sad, but that doesn’t mean you’re content.

Friends from high school aside, you had Taehyung. You had the seven boys you adored the most in the world. You had met them back at an inter school competition where you all got to know each other, and eventually became friends. Some sort of friends, anyway.

They were from a different school, so it did piss off your schoolmates that you were befriending ‘rivals’ but that didn’t mean anything to you. All that mattered was that you had them, and they had you.

Fast forward to a year later. You’re laying in bed, exhausted and overwhelmed. There’s this weight at the back of your head, making it feel heavy, almost as if you had a headache.

Tired.

So extremely tired.

To [taehyungie]:

I don’t really|

The cursor keeps blinking at you, as if it’s asking, ‘do you really want to say this?’ You don’t.

Really.

But you’re not in the mood to socialize, even if it means missing out on a movie night you had waited for to spend with your bestest friends. You love them, you really do, but… It’s at moments like these that you find yourself asking again and again-

Am I really their friend?

You can’t figure out if you love them as much as they do, and how could you ever repay these seven men for how much they had lit up your life?

And then again, you’re tired, a little overwhelmed, a little sad (so you finally admit it). You can’t even bring yourself to move. What do you even do? Saying you don’t want to come sounds like you’re ungrateful for how much they’ve done for you, which isn’t true at all. You appreciate them, but there’s that lethargic feeling in your bones, the way each bone in your body aches, that just tells you-

You can’t.

You feel like a living paradox, sad but happy, energetic but tired, in pain but you’re okay.

You’re okay.

You’re completely fine, so why do you feel this way?

You want to shut the world out and not look anyone in the eyes. Stop talking. Leave group chats. Turn down offers.

It’s not the first time this has happened. It’s not the last time it’ll happen either. But every time, it feels like the worst one so far. You’re hurting but your body can’t recognize the pain, making it seem like you’re not, but you are, and you know that deep down.

Your head’s cluttered, throbbing pain now taking over from the heavy weight you felt at the back of your head instead. You massage your temples to ease the pain, but your fingers, cold and unnerving, cannot keep you away from brooding.

What do you say?

What do you do?

You hold down the delete button, clearing the message box. Your cursor still blinks, making you feel annoyed, before you click the cancel button and let the keyboard on the screen vanish.

Done and- for the last time, you’ll say it- exhausted, you flip over to lay on your back, staring at the ceiling above.

If you say you don’t want to go, you’ll appear selfish and it’ll make it seem like you were leading them on. Which you weren’t, you were just as excited as them about it, but you never planned for your weird episode to begin today.

If you agree to go, you’ll only bring them down with your depressed self. And that’s sadly not the end of it. You’ll likely explode with frustration because of how much you let yourself take in while being around them.

At times like these, all you needed was some peace and quiet.

It was funny how a third-party could figure out a solution to this, but you definitely couldn’t. Plans run in your head over and over again, repeating themselves so you don’t forget.

Dinner at 8.

Movie night begins at 9.

Come home around 2, another sleepless night. Maybe tonight you’ll finish your assignments. What about that K-drama though?

First class at 08:30 tomorrow.

And then

Stop.

Please. Stop.

Telling that aloud to your brain seems as if you have more control over it than it does you, but that’s not it at all. In fact, it’s the other way around. It has way more power on you than you do it, but saying that out loud makes it seem as vice versa.

If a person is thinking, is the brain controlling the person or is the person controlling the brain?

Your thoughts stop there.

You take a hold of your abandoned phone, hands freezing but you pay it no attention.

To [taehyungie]:

Can you come over with the others?

A sigh, then another, and another. You just can't stop.

From [taehyungie]:

why

did something happen

You can’t bring yourself to answer anymore, to type anymore, apathy regaining control over you.

From [taehyungie]:

yn

are you okay???

i’m coming right now

stay there

Your heart’s beating in your chest but you’re barely breathing. And it hurts, the pressure weighing down on your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Your heart hurts, and it hurts as it beats, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You lay there.

You’re sobbing now, tears brimming in your eyes. They don’t fall out, but it burns to have your eyes open as the air around you seems to be too much for them, and so you shut them tight, hands balling into fists.

Help.

It’s too much, all too much-

You can’t take it anymore. You can’t destroy yourself like this and you know that, but-

Fuck, how badly do you want to cry right now? How badly do you wish you could let it out so you wouldn’t have to deal with it? But you just can’t anymore.

You slide down from the bed unwillingly, to sit on the ground, you back supported by the polished wood. Begging the heavens to let you cry. Begging.

The tears disappear as soon as they come.

It’s fifteen minutes later that you hear the doorbell ring and you freeze.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You can’t. You regret it, telling him to come over, to bring everyone with him. Why did you even-?

You don’t have the power to stand up, but you do it anyway, hearing them shout your name, half limping to get to the door downstairs.

Hand trembling as it reaches for the doorknob, you let out a shaky breath as you turn it to open the door.

They’re here.

Company.

Fuck.

“YN, are you okay!?” Taehyung’s the first one to ask, inviting himself inside as he holds your shoulders and takes you to the living room, saying things you don’t pay attention to. The others follow him behind.

You don’t say anything as they sit you down on the couch, making sure you feel comfortable. Yoongi sits down next to you, his hands find yours and you flinch, causing him to loosen his hold on them.

“Sorry. I should’ve asked first.”

You shake your head.

You can’t speak. You want to stay silent, keep everyone quiet. But they go on, anyway. “What happened?” Namjoon asks, raising a brow. Each of them seat themselves around you, either on the couch or on the floor right in front of you. You can’t even look down to see your hands clasped in Yoongi’s to turn away.

As if they couldn’t already read you like an open book.

“Are you tired?” Jungkook tilts his head, doe-eyes staring up at you from his place on the floor. You shake your head lightly. You want to tell him to get up, sit on the couch, but… It doesn’t matter. It’s not as if you can speak.

“Her hands are cold,” Yoongi remarks, to which you see Jimin pout. “Were you sitting in the aircon for too long? Do you have a fever?”

Putting the back of his hand to your forehead, you watch as Yoongi winces. “She’s burning.” Taehyung sighs, before a look of determination crosses his face.

“Mission SAVE YN starts now!”

You wince at the loudness of his voice, not used to it. He looks at you apologetically before turning back to the others. The rest of the guys look at him with raised brows and confused looks, to which he frowns. “Mission SAVE YN! Let’s take over different duties to help YN feel better,” everyone else nods enthusiastically, sounds of ‘oooh’s fill the living room, as they talk of what they’ll do to play their part in this ‘mission’.

And you’re grateful, really, but…

You can’t help but still sulk. The apathy does not leave.

Hoseok, noticing that, gathers everyone’s attention back together again. “YN, are you really okay?”

“Do you not want our help?”

“Everyone needs some alone time, it’s okay if you do too.”

But how could you feel anything if not for them? Your conflicting feelings grow and grow until you feel as if your existence is just a paradox-

You’re living but you’re not.

“It’s not that easy.” You speak, for the first time in a while, your voice so light and quiet that the ones not sitting right next to you on the couch (Yoongi on your left and Namjoon on your right) have to scoot closer to hear you continue.

“I don’t want this. But I do. I feel conflicted right now. I wanted to go to the movie night, I really did, but…” you pause, trying to organize your thoughts. “I’m a mess. I hate feeling this way, I hate bringing you guys down with me. But you’re the only people that really make me smile and… just seeing texts from Taehyung wasn’t enough this time around.”

Jimin tilts his head at the words, “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Emotionally drained. I can’t smile anymore. I don’t laugh at the things I used to,” you look up to meet eyes with Seokjin, who winks upon the eye contact. You blink- it doesn’t make you smile or giggle as usual.

Namjoon puts his arm around your shoulder, running his hand over your back.

You’re safe.

You’re okay.

“It hurts to feel that way. That nothing understands me anymore. Not even my own self. But I called you all over anyway,” your voice gets louder as it returns to you, tears pooling your eyes again and you sniff, “And I felt bad that I used you all and led you on with the movie night thing but… I’m sorry.”

Namjoon holds you closer at the words, tightening his grip. Your hands reach up to wipe the tears away from your eyes, sniffing as the rest keep quiet. You let yourself live in the moment and enjoy the feeling of comfort that you felt whenever your seven friends came around.

“We’ll make you feel better, only if you want us to. We don’t want to force you,” Seokjin smiles faintly when you look at him upon the words. “And you’re not a bad friend,” Hoseok huffs, grinning brightly when he sees a little smile creep onto your face.

“Thank you.”

So they begin.

Jungkook and Hoseok let you sit at the couch with them as they tell you puns (your favourite things in the world after the boys), waiting for Seokjin to return with snacks. When Mr. Worldwide Handsome returns, he adds onto the puns with his own dad jokes and clever play on words. It is ‘unbelibubble’ how easily you smile when that one joke comes around.

“Getting out of your bubble, I see,” Seokjin says he sets down the tray of snacks on the table, “Unbelibubble!”

Jungkook imitates vomiting. “That one was pretty bad, hyung. I won’t lie,” Hoseok nods lightly, before taking the packet of chips and opening it to crunch into one, passing you over the rest.

“Yah! At least YN smiled at it!”

“YN has the same sense of humour as you. Not surprising,” Jungkook’s and Seokjin’s bickering truly never stops.

You ‘play’ with Taehyung and Jimin next.

“YN says dance like monkeys on steroids,” you smirk, making the two raise their brows at you. Jimin stomps on the ground, pouting, “That’s not-! What even-!?” He manages to say, before bursting out into laughter, falling to the floor at the ridiculous order.

Your version of Simon Says. Much better than the original game, in your opinion.

“Remember Jimin-ah, you have to do it. YN said so!” Taehyung huffs, before trying to dance like how a monkey on steroids would, though it is mainly just flailing his arms in the air randomly, making a few monkey sounds here and there that sounded more chicken-like than they did monkey, but that is fine too.

Jimin snickers, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms to look up and down at Taehyung as he finishes. “That’s all you can do!?”

“Oh yeah! Can you do better!?”

“Watch me!”

Last but definitely not least, comes bed-time with Namjoon and Yoongi.

Yoongi’s slender fingers run through your hair, silently wishing you good night, after you have taken your medicine. The fever should be okay soon, they had said.

“Would it be too much if I tried to sing you lullabies?” Namjoon asks, on the verge of laughing but he somehow keeps it under control. You grin, eyelids growing heavier. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re signing up for, YN?” Yoongi smirks as he lays down next to you, one arm under his head, the other hand still brushing strands of your hair.

“I love when he sings.”

“And if he wakes up the neighbors?”

“He won’t,” you mumble, drifting off to sleep. “I’ll sing for you then,” you listen to Namjoon say. You don’t hear much before you fall asleep, but from what you do hear, you can tell it’s beautiful. Though now that you think about it, the whole ‘neighbors might wake up’ deal might not be that far-fetched. It is beautiful to you anyway.

---

You wake up the next day in your bed, just how you remember yourself laying down, bodies on both your sides.

Regaining your vision, you see seven men sprawled over the room- three on the bed with you, while four lay on the floor with sleeping bags, sunlight filtering through the windows in your bedroom.

A little smile makes its way to your face, and heart, at how adorable each one of them is.

And how incredibly lucky you are to have them.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES {Quarterback AU}

Summary: When his brother forces him to go on a double date with him and with a girl that absolutely hates Grayson, he’s forced to realize that their mutual disdain might have been caused by his own actions.

Warnings: swearing, a lot of banter

Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N - this is sort of a version of This Is War (Ethan frat/soulmate fic), but there are no soulmates here. It’s probably bad since I stress wrote it instead of studying, but it’s also kind of fun? I guess I’m a sucker for enemies trope. Also, I am writing Fix me finale, but it will take me a while because I am back in college for the next month and a half or so and I have back to back exams every 2 or 3 days. Hope you guys understand and I hope you like this one as well. 

*                                    *                                        *

Ethan never thought he'd have to beg his brother to accompany a beautiful woman on a date, but he still found himself in front of his arm-crossed twin and his defiant glare.

„No. Not happening.“ Grayson is adamant, refusing to budge and most definitely not when it's her who they want him to go out with. Why can't they find someone else to be their double date?! He just didn't see the sanity in that decision.

„I'm asking as a brother!“ Ethan pulled his twin card, hoping to see change in Grayson who simply laughed in his face before turning his back on him, still stubbornly refusing to even consider it.

„Bruh, never gonna happen.“

Rolling his eyes, Ethan's annoyance grows as he's forced to walk in front of his brother who seems damn determined to fuck up his night even after he tried to bribe him with chores, cash, even his dear Smooth cat.

„She's Amina's best friend. I am begging you, please, don't make me call mom on you.“ And that's when he played the ultimate card – the mom card. There isn't a woman in the world as important to Grayson as his mother, but then again, there isn't a woman as capable of making him do things he'd never want to do.

„Seriously? Playing the mom card now? What are we, like 10? Plus, why would she even want me as a date?! She fucking hates me and I'm pretty sure she's mental. You're putting your favorite brother in the line of fire.“ Reasoning with Ethan had never been fruitful in the past, but even as he watches Ethan shrug his pleas off his shoulders, Grayson clings to some hope he'd manage to escape this whole ordeal. It's probably the only time he had ever regretted being a playboy instead of having a girlfriend...taken men can't be forced into dates with their worst enemy.

„Favorite? You're my only brother, Grayson. It does not make you necessarily a favorite.“ Ethan retorted with furrowed eyebrows before tossing a white, classy shirt at his brother's chest. „Now get ready and be nice tonight, okay?“

Nostrils flared as he inhales deeply, staring daggers at Ethan's back as he leaves the room, Grayson yells after him: „No promises!“

To say he spent the entire drive over to the restaurant sulking would be an understatement. The last thing, absolutely the last thing, Grayson wanted to do now is to spend a few hours around Y/N Y/L/N.

You know those girls that are always seemingly fun but will cut you down with just a look if you make a single misstep? The girls that may be smaller than guys but cause terror in them whenever they scowl?

Y/N Y/L/N is the queen B of the club Grayson is certain exists as some secret college society of women that learn how to make men's lives miserable.

Sure, she's on good terms with everyone else, but Grayson always found her to be rude and mean-spirited with him. Every time he tried to bridge the distance between them for not only his brother's relationship but his own inner peace, she nearly chewed his head off. 

In time, Grayson learned to avoid her and her mood-swings, but he still found himself getting out of the car on this particular night, finding Amina in front of the restaurant and he could easily recognize Y/N, even from behind. Perhaps he's spent too much time admiring her ass in the past, but she wasn't hard to recognize, besides, who else would be helping Amina fix her hijab?

For a moment there, he just stands there on the curb, watching her as the wind picks up and her hair flies to the side, revealing her face as she steps away from Amina and giggles, the sound carried through the wind and to his unsuspecting ears. He thought her laugh is almost...tolerable...cute even.

Shaking his head vehemently, Grayson felt Ethan's hand on his shoulder and his expecting gaze as well.

„Come on. It might rain soon and I'd rather not worry if Amina will freeze to death when her clothes get wet.“

Sighing, Grayson follows his brother reluctantly, his gaze unwavering and on his enemy. She may be clothed in a beautiful green dress with bare back, but Grayson still remembers she's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

„Hey.“ Ethan smiles sheepishly at his dear Amina, giving her a small wave as she looks down shyly and her cheeks turn a darker shade. Their relationship is pure in Grayson's eyes – they rarely ever touch and when they do it's by accident and yet they seem to be inseparable. In a moment of weakness, he wished for something as simple and pure as they have too.

„Ugh. Grayson fucking Dolan? Seriously Amina?“ Y/N all but growled at her best friend who was forced to look at her instead of Ethan who really captured all her attention moments ago. Frowning, Grayson clears his throat, hoping to speak but Y/N continues.

„I thought I was supposed to be here with you as the third wheel because your dad insisted! Why call...“ She turns to Grayson, gesticulating to his face with slight disgust on her face before she adds: „Him.“

„Excuse me?!“ Grayson exclaims, quite frankly offended by the way she looked at him like he's not worth the dirt off her cheap heels, but she just turns to him with the fakest, fed-up smile she could muster.

„You may be excused.“ Showing him down the road, hoping he'd leave, Y/N looked at the way his face quickly changed from insulted, to angry, to wicked.

„Oh, no. I'm staying. Now that I know you have been blindsided into spending a whole dinner with me, I'd love for a chance to make your meal a little spicy.“ Winking, Grayson opened the door. Waiting for them to enter, Ethan and Amina were fast but Y/N crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the pavement, her eyes narrowed at him with suspicion.

„Waiting for a formal invitations, princess?“ Grayson clicks his tongue as he gestures with a nod for her to get inside, nearly bursting out laughing when she flinches with the thunder echoing in the street.

„You're just waiting for me to walk in order to let the door slam in my face.“ She guesses, looking up at the sky nervously as lightning tears the sky open.

„Maybe, but you'll never know if you don't come in. Or you can test your luck with the thunderstorm.“ Shrugging as if saying he's alright with either or, Grayson raises his eyebrow in challenge and then it crosses his mind – this is the first time since he met her that he has the reigns and it feels really, really good.

Pensive, she looks back up at the sky before shrugging. „I'd rather brave the storm then, quarterback.“

However, as she states her choice, rain starts to drizzle and the lightning illuminates every line of her frustrated face and her pouted lips as she closes her eyes in anticipation of what's to come. Brave...but stupid.

„Come in. I won't slam the door in your face.“ Clearing his throat, he adds. „My mama taught me better, alright?“

„Fine, but if you do, I know who to complain to then. Don't underestimate me, quarterback. I can find her number if I want to!“ Eyes narrower with every step she takes, arms tense as she expects him to go back on his word, she manages to walk into the restaurant without a scratch on her and surprisingly no attempt to even frighten her.

Y/N headed straight for the table next to Ethan and Amina, the only one available with 'reserved' card on it. She sat opposite of Amina so she could pick up on any signal her best friend sends, but also because she had many signals she wanted to send her and a middle finger might be one of them.

Of all the men in the universe, hell, of all the women in the universe, those two chose the quarterback from hell? She never quite understood how he and Ethan could be twins and be so fundamentally different but after the first two years, she just stopped trying to understand it – understand him, at all.

„Alright. What do you want to order?“ Grayson picks up the menu – the only menu on the table and she rolls her eyes at him again. „Might wanna watch the eye-rolls. Don't want your eyes getting stuck like that, do you?“

Glancing at Amina who just mouthed 'Please', Y/N let out a violent huff in utter frustration, even more so when Grayson continued to hog the menu.

„Why are you here? Really? Did they blindside you too?“ Y/N questions, more curious about how calm he seemed when he found her in front of the restaurant than the menu he holds. She can't eat much now when her appetite is for vengeance alone.

„Nope, Ethan played the mom card. I wouldn't be here otherwise, trust me.“ He responds without even looking at her, his eyes still going over the menu and if she didn't know better, she'd think he's confused.

„You have something better to do on a Saturday night? A girl perhaps? Did I cockblock you, quarterback?“ Raising her eyebrows with amusement, she leans in and cocks her head slightly to the left, awaiting for his response.

„Don't flatter yourself. My plans were more important than a girl. I was supposed to run on the treadmill.“

Shaking her head, finding his answer peculiar and she couldn't help herself but question him further. Besides, she had no other form of entertainment but to make steam come out of his ears.

„Running? That's more important? What the hell?“ Flabbergasted, she draws in a shaky breath as she puts a hand on her chest in surprise and Grayson dignifies her with a curious glance.

„Who chooses to spend a Saturday night on a treadmill?“

Putting down the menu, Grayson presses his tongue against his left cheek to reel his usually loud self which was always amplified around her.

„Someone who makes good life choices. Try it sometimes.“ Snarky tone he used made her bite her lower lip, slowly releasing the soft flesh with a little less lipstick than before. Shame – Grayson quite liked the red shade on her lips.

„Oh, quarterback, you're so scandalous. For future reference, if you ever see me running you should run too because I only run for my life...maybe not even then.“ Smacking her lips, she slyly grabbed the menu from his hands and looked it over herself. She noticed Ethan nod at his brother before they exchanged a few words in their weird gibberish language Amina told her about, though she had caught them doing so a few times before too.

„So, you're really into football, huh“, Grayson asks so naively, noticing exactly when she raised her eyes from the menu and up to him with a boy-you-better-run look and he gulps, aware she'd soon say something that would fuck everything up.

„Football? It's literally the last thing on my list of interests...hell, it's not even on the list!“ She exclaims, noticing Grayson's jaw clench and his eyes harden and Ethan facepalmed immediately, all too familiar with what will happen.

„Football is life! What do you mean it's not on the list?“ Shushed by Amina, he presses his lips together but his eyes are wide and wild and Y/N can't help but chuckle.

„It's the dumbest sport there is. All you do is throw hands with men with over-sized pads and helmets. You get concussions for fame? Fuck that.“ Tossing the menu on the center of the table, Y/N leans back in her chair as she notices a vein prominently showing on Grayson's forehead and she can't help but enjoy the view. There is nothing she likes better than a pissed off Grayson. He's got everyone treating him like a deity, but she was never among them. Perhaps it's because he fucked up when they first met, but she tried time and time again to give him the benefit of the doubt and he always proved her opinion of him, while abominable, is very accurate.

„Dumbest sport? Do you know how hard I work to be the very best on that field? The theories and strategies I have to learn? The physical preparations?!“ Whisper shouting, Grayson leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table and his biceps swell up as he moves some of his weight onto his arms and the table under him.

„Oh, wow! You work so hard? A doctor works hard, Grayson. They save lives and they will never earn the money you will earn after college. You're learning how to run zig-zag across the field with a crummy ball in your hands without falling, while doctors, lawyers, teachers, cashiers and many REAL professions are so underfunded and underpaid and you think that's fair?“ Shaking her head, she raises her hands in mock surrender, watching a little bit of Grayson's ego chip away and he shakes his head too, looking away as he keeps his mouth shut.

„Why do you even hate me so much?“ Grayson mumbled sometime during dinner -  a very quiet dinner.

Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she wondered if he really doesn't know. Hell, she always knew why she hates him, but she never knew why he hates her.

„You really don't know?“ She nearly chuckles when he shrugs, oblivious as always.

„Why is that somehow worse than everything you did?“ Talking to herself more than him, she lets out a heavy sigh. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Y/N presses her lips together and Grayson can't help but notice the red lipstick is once again evenly spread across her lips.

She remembered the way they met, the way he treats the girls, the pranks he pulled that left her mortified, or the nickname he started that followed her for a whole semester and most of all, she couldn't forgive him for scaring off a guy she thought she'd be with for a very, very long time.

„You're so smart and sure of yourself, figure it out.“ But then again, she did have an appetite for vengeance and he had no idea how ready she was to satisfy it.

He was clueless until Monday morning, right after practice when he was left last in the locker-rooms after his self-imposed morning practice. He was clueless as he walked out of the shower, confused as to where his towel is. He was clueless when his steam-clad body felt the breeze of the mysteriously open window in the locker-room had made him shiver.

However, when he opened his locker, Grayson was no longer clueless: his clothes – gone, his jersey – gone, his phone, bag and towels gone.

Everything is gone, yet when he looks at the mirror, he finds the cause for the message left in a very familiar shade of red gave him more than just a clue – XOXO next to a clear mark of a particular pair of lips he was admiring on Saturday night.

„Y/N FUCKING Y/L/N!“

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​ @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @dolandolll​ 

PART 2

[fanfics-arent-therapy-but-idc]

JATP FANFIC

Juke

Fluff

Oneshot

Time and Space

Julie and the boys decide to take a break from the band while Julie gets her bearings at college while they go and explore. Turns out that kindred spirits don’t take well to time and space.

Julie sat on the black swivel chair at the studio, back slightly arched over a keyboard as she recorded a new part to the chorus of a song she was working on. She hummed the lyrics lightly allowing her fingers to make what she heard in her head come to fruition. “Perfect” , she said once she added the keyboard to the song and replayed it. The song was mostly pop with a little bit of soul. It was right on brief as far as she was concerned, but the professors at Berklee were no joke. She just hoped that she did enough for an acceptable grade. After saving the song on her drive, she made her way to her room on 150 Massachusetts avenue. Her roommate, a dance major from Brazil, wasn’t going to be home until 11:00pm, meaning that she had two hours of alone time.

She entered the cozy room with a smile. Alana had turned on the L.E.D fairy lights and she could also smell the faint floral scent of the oil diffuser. She must have done this before she met up with her friends for their weekly Friday dinners . Julie locked the door, sat on her desk, and scribbled a note of gratitude, ending the note with a new Portuguese phrase that she’d picked up from her, “te amo muito”. After placing it on her bed, she began her nightly routine: shower, sing in the shower, wear her comfy pajamas(which consisted of an old, ripped up T-shirt that she had stolen from Luke years ago, and fluffy reindeer pajama pants), check her phone for messages, find out that she didn’t receive any, and ultimately sit on her bed for another hour with her notebook and a pencil. She usually felt most creative around this time, but tonight was not one of those nights. She stared at her phone that was all too proud to showcase her embarrassingly empty notifications list.

At first, the band came to the decision to go on hiatus for Julie’s sake. They had spent every hour of everyday together for two and a half years, cultivating a loyal following and making great music. A needed break, just so Julie could focus on school, was the logical move. Ever since they materialized as real people, they hadn’t spent much time exploring this new world. This was their chance. She mostly attributed the lack of communication to the fact that they probably still had no clue how to use smartphones and ignored the very plausible idea that they might have needed a break from her. She and Flynn spoke more often, but she was easily busier than Julie over at Northwestern with her double major in Performance studies and Film and Media studies.

Sigh. Julie fell backwards onto her bed and closed her eyes, remembering the day she left for Boston. It was still super hot in California, but she had a sweater stuffed into her carry-on for when she landed on the East Coast. The boys drove a separate car that contained most of her luggage, while her Dad, Flynn, and her brother were in another car, blasting the radio. Her father singing the loudest, trying to drown out the pang in his chest, Julie assumed. She was excited to go to college, but she would miss her hometown, her family, Flynn, and the boys. When they parked, the boys insisted on carrying all of the luggage. She had to wrestle Reggie to hold on to her carry-on. The boys wondered at everything they witnessed, none of them having taken a flight anywhere before dying. She distinctly remembers the way Luke smiled and waved at the troupe of pilots walking past them and towards their respective flights. When it was time for her to pass the threshold, her dad broke down, silent tears breaking through. “Mom would be so proud of you”, he assured her. Now it was Julie’s turn to cry. She hugged them all one more time, Luke last of all.

“Hey”, he started, “don’t forget about us when you become a cool, super smart, college student”. Julie laughed so hard that she startled the entire waiting area full of people.

“I promise that I won’t. And just because the band’s taking a break… that doesn’t mean you can’t call, or text, or video call. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of course, once I figure out how to do that video call thing you’ll be seeing this face once a day”, he promised. Julie laughed again, wiped her tear-stained cheeks, and boarded her flight.

That was three weeks ago. The first time he video called her, the connection was poor, and they couldn’t hear each other. The second time he tried to call, she just got an embarrassingly bad grade on an exam that she had spent all night studying for in addition to being days behind on a project in the very same class. Julie lay in bed cringing at the memory of that afternoon.

“Hey Julie! woah, are you crying? What’s going on are you oka- “

“No- I mean I was, but I- I’m good now, just busy”,

“Oh. Well, what’s up?”

“Uh, nothing much honestly. Just… yeah just super busy”

“Julie, do you need me to hang up?”

“I’m so sorry, but yes. I’m just-”

“Busy? Got it. See you later”

She felt physically ill remembering that day. She had half a mind to text him an apology, but some sort of self-preservation setting inside of her stopped her every time. Knowing Luke, he’d probably texted everyone that she was super busy and not to be disturbed. Maybe that’s why she’s been left on radio silence for a week. Her dad even downsized from his daily calls and he always kept them under ten minutes; even if she insisted that she had more time. She was just about to call it a night when her phone vibrated. She froze. Don’t get too excited. It’s probably from one of your professors.

It wasn’t. Julie blinked and turned the brightness all the way up on her phone. The message read:

🎶Luke🎶: Hey, are you busy?

Julie was quick to respond:

You: No, not at all. Wanna talk?

Just as the little notification popped up to indicate that her message was delivered, there was a knock on her door. She assumed that it was Alana coming home early. She frequently forgot her keys so it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, but who she opened the door for was completely unexpected.

“Dad! Carlos! What are you doing here?” Standing in front of her door was her dad and brother. She hugged them tightly and to more of her surprise, just outside the doorway was Flynn, Alex, Reggie, and Luke, standing humbly behind everyone else.

“Don’t be mad at us”, Alex said, “Luke made it very clear that this surprise could not be spoiled under any circumstances”.

“But we’re not that good at keeping secrets,” Reggie added.

“So you all decided to ghost me?” she questioned.

“Sort of”, Alex responded quietly. They were all looking at her. Wondering if they had made a grave mistake and if she would slam the door in their faces. She wouldn’t.

“Well… the risk was worth it. I am officially surprised!” she whispered, realizing that her fellow, sleep-deprived, students would not appreciate the interruption. The look of relief on everyone’s face was hilarious.

“Come on everyone, let’s get out of this hallway. I know a good 24-hour diner just around here. They have seats big enough for all of us”, Julie suggested.

“That sounds great Julie, but please tell me that you're getting changed first?” Flynn asked.

Julie remembered that she was in her ‘comfy clothes’. Clothes consisting of Luke’s shirt and Christmas pajamas. “Uhhh, yeah. Give me a minute”. She shut the door, jumped into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. “Okay, now I’m ready! Let’s go”.

The walk to the Diner was short, but Julie had learnt a lot. Carlos just started a photography club at his school, Flynn’s roommate, Justine, has an aunt who owns a hair salon, meaning discounted box braids all year. She was really excited about that. Reggie has been surprising fans at local cafes with acoustic versions of the band’s best hits. Alex has been holed up in every museum and library in California and Dad was up to the same old stuff, taking photos, cooking, and whatever old people do, Julie added to her dad’s protest.

“I am not old”, he responded as he pushed open the Diner doors. The place was pretty clean to most city-dwellers standards. The faded blue and yellow banquets surrounded the walls and long wooden tables were placed across from them. Julie took the liberty of snagging a few stools from the counter, seeing as the room was empty. Julie, Carlos, and her Dad sat on the stools while the rest of the crew spread out on the banquets. When the waitress came around she informed them that they were in luck and that there was a fresh batch of maple bacon and regular glazed hot out of the deep fryer. They ordered one of each for everyone, along with a pot of classic Diner coffee and a pitcher of water for Carlos. As they waited for their desserts, the group fell into a lull. Julie took this chance to get into Luke’s head. He had planned an entire trip across the country for her, but he hadn’t said more than twenty words to her since she’d layed eyes on him.

“So, Luke,” she started tentatively, “what have you been up to? Visit any museums lately?”

“Pfft I wish!” her father exclaimed. She peeked over at a mortified Luke and the sympathetic stares of his friends. “I swear all he ever does is sit in that studio, write songs, and sulk”, he continued mercilessly, only stopping when the waitress arrived.

“Here are the donuts. The coffee and water are coming right up”.

“Thank you so much,” her Dad responded kindly. “Now back to what I was say-”

“Julie, can we talk… outside,” Luke interrupted. Flynn and Carlos tried to stifle a laugh that ended in both of them choking on their donuts. Julie was… confused to say the least but she obliged, standing and walking shyly past the door he opened for her.

‘It’s freezing out here!’ She wanted to say to cut the tension, but she knew that the weather was not one of the topics of conversation that Luke had on his mind. They were walking now, taking small steps to nowhere in particular. Luke spoke first.

“So, as your father has so kindly told you, our beloved friends, and the entire Diner staff, I’m sort of miserable without you”.

Julie snorted. “Well, to be honest, I'm not having such a great time without you either. We’re really that co-dependent, huh?” Luke was smiling next to her and she was smiling back. She really did miss his smile.

“Ha, well, you say co-dependent, and I say that I'm deeply in love with you,” he shrugged, “same difference”. What? Julie froze. She was not prepared for this, but one could say that that was just bad planning on her part. Julie still remembers the day when she almost lost him to Caleb. The feeling of absolute darkness surrounding her heart, the feeling of heartbreak and anger. She was way too young to call that feeling love, but looking back, looking at all of the late-night songwriting sessions and the way she lost all ability to speak when he gave her that smile, maybe it was. Maybe it still is. Realizing that Luke was watching her, she tried to utter some sort of response.

“Luke, I-”

“You don’t have to say it back, in fact I'm asking you not to, but just hear me out on this one request. Please?”

“Okay.”

“Let me stay.”

“Where? My dorm room. I think that Alana and my dad might have something to say about that,” she answered, unsure of where this was going.

“Very funny Molina. He was doing his nervous finger twitch. “C’mon lighten the mood Julie!” She chastised herself.

“Right? I should drop out and pursue a career in come-”

“Let me stay here in Boston”, he butted in. She didn’t mind because she could see how much what he wanted to say scared him. “I'll get my own place, I'll work crappy retail jobs when all my money runs out, I’ll busk on the streets for all I care, but I… I need this. He was gesturing at the two of them.

Julie stood there unmoving. He needed her. The sentiment was horrifying and exciting at the same time, but she couldn’t hide her truth when he was showing his off right in front of her. To her, he was that bit of California sunshine she was always missing, the series of sounds that filled the empty part of a song she was producing, he was like the sweet glaze on a soft donut; he completed her. Without thinking, she grabbed his shaking hands and placed them on her cheeks. Like from memory, he was caressing her face. She placed her hands on his face and did the same. For a split second, Julie was sixteen again, in her mother’s studio, holding on tight to what she had left, what she wanted more than anything.

“I need you too, Luke. You're the glaze to my donut.” It was Luke’s turn to laugh now. Julie knew it was a stupid metaphor, but it got the job done and it made him smile.

“Oh my gosh that was terrible”, he teased, putting both hands over his mouth in shock, “how did you get into Berklee?”

“That’s a lot of talk coming from someone who didn’t get into Berklee”, she teased back, arms folded.

“Hey, don’t underestimate me! I could have gotten in had I applied”, he assured her.

“You don’t even have a transcript, Luke.”

“Once again, do not underestimate my skills of persuasion. I managed to get you to let three ghosts live in your studio” he replied.

“Fine. Then apply next semester,” she teased.

“Is that a challenge, Molina?”

“More like an invitation”, Julie looked him in the eyes now, all jokes aside.

“I’ll be there. Always”, he answered.

“Wow. That was, inspiring”, said a familiar voice, “but can we please get back to the hotel? The waitress just warned us that we don’t want to be walking around here after dark.”

Julie and Luke turned in unison to see a paranoid Alex standing in front them. “Oh, and congratulations on the two of you finally realizing that you are literally inseparable. This past month has been torture for me! Now c’mon, let’s go before we get murdered, but for real this time.”

The trio walked back into the Diner with Luke and Julie holding hands. This was met with various cheers, chants, and a relieved “finally”! from Julie’s dad. “Now I can use my studio in peace!”

THE END!

[bookandcranny]

Stone Heart Gambit

Part 1 - Chapter 2

Soso has always had good intuition, and never was she more unhappy to be right than now. She tails the car until they reach the treeline and then dips off the main road to one of the more concealed footpaths. By the time she breaches through to the other side, she’s late to the party.

Twenty or so college kids are tailgating in the clearing, some of them in rubber masks, others in face paint made smeared and sticky with gratuitous fake gore. Loud music crackles from car stereo speakers, interwoven with the sounds of laughter and drunken jeers. They line up on the lawn to throw eggs and empty bottles at the building and holler with triumph every time one hits its target. Soso ditches her bike and bag and edges around the chaos, trying not to be spotted in the crowd.

Her anxiety spikes. Now that she’s here, her suspicions confirmed, she realizes that she has absolutely no idea what she plans to do about it. Calling the cops would only throw fuel on the fire, and that’s if they even take her call seriously. Some drunken revelry, kept well away from the rest of the town and anyone else who might complain, probably doesn’t register very high for them tonight.

At least Surehouser has the sense not to engage with them. The library’s been closed early, the windows shuttered and dark. She hopes he’s alright in there. He’s such a recluse, she can’t imagine him standing up to this sort of crowd.

Another round of eggs pelt the front doors, met with uproarious cheers, and Soso seethes. He doesn’t deserve this; he doesn’t do anything to anyone and yet, because he’s a little odd, people find reasons to treat him like this. In that moment she hates them, and she hates herself for standing on the sidelines while this happens. She always imagined that when it came down to it, she would be the sort of person who stands up for others, but here she stands, frozen in place and feeling utterly useless.

Move, she tells herself. Do something. Fix it. You’re supposed to be good at fixing things.

In a burst of angry adrenalin, she pushes through the crowd and climbs on top of one of the parked cars. She gathers all the breath and courage she can and screams at the top of her lungs.

“PARTY’S OVER!”

She stomps the hood of the car, setting off the alarm and putting a satisfying dent in its surface. All at once the music cuts off and everyone’s eyes are on her. It should be terrifying, but she’s still riding that bright burst and instead she feels a strange swell of pride. Her own cry rings in her ears, loud and shrill with a hint of a growl to it that she hadn’t known she had in her.

Someone, presumably the owner of the car, curses loudly. “Who the hell are you?”

“Your- your worst nightmare!” A ripple of laughter passes through them and, yeah, that did sound pretty stupid, didn’t it.

One of the boys peels off his mask to get a better look and as he blots his sweaty face with the front of his shirt, Soso realizes that she recognizes him.

“Don’t I run errands for your grandma?” she says. “Kyle. Kyle Farafellis, right?”

He pales. “No, that’s not me.”

“How do you think your grandma would feel about this, Kyle? Are you even drinking age? Huh?”

“Get off the car!” someone else yells.

“Shut up, you’re next!” She points. “That’s right! I know all your grandmas!”

“What are you talking about?”

Okay, so she might not be getting as much mileage out of that bluff as she hoped. Trying to keep her momentum, she instead jumps down, picks up a discarded beer can and crushes it against her head, to try and intimidate them like she’s seen on TV. The can crushes maybe half of the way, and she’s not sure but her head might be bleeding now.

“You’re crazy!” someone says.

“That’s right! I’m crazy, and I can do this all night!”

The group begins to mutter amongst themselves, things like, “not worth it” and “let’s just go” and “need to call my grandma”. Amazingly, they begin to disperse, leaving only an equally amazing mess in their wake.

After they’re gone, Soso wipes her forehead— no blood, just some leftover beer. The rush of manic energy drains from her as suddenly as it arrived and she stumbles over to slump against the steps. She sits down in something sticky and winces. She wonders how often Surehouser puts up with this sort of thing. It’s no wonder then that he keeps to himself, she thinks.

Without the light of headlights, Soso is in the dark now, squinting even under the light of the bloated yellow moon. It’s probably for the best; she’s not sure she wants to see everything that’s become of the place. The library had been her oasis, such a tranquil little place untouched by the rest of the world. Now everything, even her friend the gargoyle, had been defiled and she hadn’t been there in time to stop it.

“Enough sulking,” she chides herself. “You’re not a sulkr, you’re a fixer. Start fixing.”

She starts cleaning up the best she can, picking up and piling the trash out of the way, wiping off as much egg residue as she can with her balled up sweatshirt as a rag. She can clean it later. Or burn it, she amends when she smells the thing. It doesn’t matter.

The vandalism of the gargoyle is what hurts her the worst. She just doesn’t understand how someone can look at something like this and not see the beauty in it.

“Is it just me? Am I really the crazy one?”

The stone creature is sticky with dried alcohol and drawn on in makeup and marker. Soso wipes clean its smooth surface with gentle care, feeling her frustration boil over and turn to tears.

“I’m sorry,” she says. Surehouser wouldn’t want her touching it, but she isn’t concerned with that at the moment, although she does wish he was here just so she could know he’s alright. “I’m going to help. I won’t let them get away with this.”

It sounds like a hollow promise, even to her. What’s she going to do, wave her arms and scream some more? She’s useless. Can’t protect her friends, can’t finish her degree, can’t do anything. Her fingers catch on a crack in the stone, bringing her back to herself.

“Sorry,” she chokes out again. “This is stupid, I should’ve…” She trails off. “I don’t how to do this, how to stand up for people, how to stand up for myself. This was the only time and, and all I could think to do was make an idiot of myself. And I was still too late to even really… ugh. What a mess.”

She takes a few deep breaths. It helps, and so did giving herself a moment to vent. She shivers. Without her sweatshirt, and with her temporary burst of energy now well and truly gone, she’s starting to remember why walking around the woods on an October night in a t-shirt was generally not advised. Cold, tired, and resigned, she gathers up her things to go. The plastic shopping bag slung around her handlebars crinkles in her hands and, on an impulse, she takes out some candy and sets it down on the ground in front of the gargoyle like an apology.

“A little holiday treat, on me. Happy Halloween.” She pats its head.

With that she hops on her bike and rides away. She wobbles a bit at first, but finds her rhythm with a sniff and a wipe of her eyes. As she goes, a silence falls over the clearing. It’s a true silence, not so much as a singing cicada or the rustling of trees to interrupt it. All at once the wind picks up again, the world resumes its steady turning, and a monster made of stone reaches down and curls his clawed fingers around a single, plastic-wrapped sweet.

 --

 She returns home. Her aggravation rolls over in surrender, exhaustion on its underbelly. Phoebe is there handing out candy in her stead and looking very much like she wants to know why, but Soso makes it clear that she doesn’t want to talk about it. She kicks off her sneakers, tosses her filthy sweatshirt in the bathroom sink, and collapses on her bed with a bag of candy pulled into the crook of her neck like a pillow. It’s not her finest moment.

She manages a fitful doze until a car alarm goes off across the street, rousing her with a groan. She could happily go the rest of her life without hearing that sound. When it becomes clear that the noise isn’t going to let up, she rolls over and checks her phone. It’s one in the morning. She has a concerned text from Carmen, by way of the house group chat, and a number of email notifications she can’t be bothered to check. Is it too much to ask for the rest of the world to leave her alone for a few hours?

After nursing her bad mood with some candy, she gets up to get a drink. The house is silent this time of night but she notices as she starts back from the kitchen that the back door is open a crack. It happens, and it’s not as though they live in a notably dangerous area, Halloween hijinks aside. But as she goes to shut it she could swear she catches a flicker of movement in her periphery. She ignores the quickening of her heart and shuts the door firmly.

There are scratch marks on the door; she feels them more than sees them, little divots in the wood around the edges as if something tried to pry the door open. That cat Phoebe had been seeing around, Soso reasons to herself. She’d probably been feeding the poor thing and now it’s become dependent on her attention. Although, the scratch-marks seem a bit high for a little cat to reach, and a bit deep. A coyote maybe? A bear? That’s ridiculous though. It would have to be a pretty bold bear to wander so far from the woods, as well as a pretty smart on to avoid being detected on the one night when the streets wouldn’t be empty until long into the night.

Feeling unsettled, Soso goes to the kitchen and flicks the nearest light switch. It gives her little comfort. When she turns around, the fridge door is hanging open, swinging gently on its hinges. The car alarm is finally silenced as she adjusts to the new quiet, Soso can hear someone moving.

“Carmen?” she calls. She could be coming back from her party about now, right? Or maybe the alarm woke up Phoebe. It could even be the nocturnal wonder Nessa, who Soso had only met on a sparse handful of occasions as she came and went from her cave of a room.

“Hello?” she tries again, venturing towards the pitch darkness of the common room.

“Hello,” the darkness growls back.

She jumps and just barely holds back a scream. A looming figure moves out of the shadows and as the light falls upon his face, Soso realizes that she knows this intruder. Maybe that would be a comfort if not for the context. The strong, angular features, the dull gray skin, the horns that sprout from his sloping brow, over a face that seems caught somewhere between human and animal. A feeling like hysteria comes over her. Surely she must be losing her mind to think her friend the gargoyle is standing before her.

The monster takes another step forward and Soso scrambles back, colliding with the counter.

“Stay back,” she trembles out, caught between fight and flight as she fumbles around for something to use as a weapon.

The monster, to her astonishment, obeys. He pauses mid-step and narrows his eyes at her, assessing, then backs away. He stands in the threshold of the kitchen, his flame-bright eyes tracking her movements. They maintain this staring match for a moment while Soso slowly regains control of her breathing, and then the towering beast cocks his head to the side and asks,

“May I approach now?” He sounds strained, impatient. Soso can’t help but wonder, if she says no will he listen?

“Please don’t.”

He doesn’t. He sits back on his haunches, lowering himself until they’re almost the same height. His clawed hands come to rest on his thighs. He is naked but for the torn scraps draped over him in the vague shape of some sort of tunic, and the remnants of some petrified plant life that tangle around his forearms like shackles.

“It was improper of me to enter your home without permission,” he says, his voice a rasping baritone. “I apologize.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then.” She feels lightheaded. Suddenly the floor is moving towards her and Soso realizes about a moment too late that she is fainting.

Something catches her right before she can rattle her skull against the tile, and that’s the last thing she registers before unconsciousness overtakes her.

[hargroves-angel]

Time Changes People / 1

Chapter 1 - These Lies You Tell Yourself

Warnings - Swearing, Smoking, Cigarettes 

You stepped out of the car. People stared. Of course they stared. This wasn’t the Y/N Eastwood that used to come to Hawkins. You were a changed girl, scrap that you were a whole new woman. Your days of pretty dresses and floral perfume were over.

That was all thanks to New York City. Once your father had been offered his new job at a high end lab facility over there, you had to leave. Your father worked so efficiently that he’d managed to get enough money to purchase the lab he worked at, along with favours from friends and colleagues.

The new school you had gone to was so different from Hawkins High. The boys were all very handsome but also assholes, the girls were pretty but much more bitchy. You also worked efficiently, learning that the only way to fit in was to get a new attitude, new closet and a new car.

That was the new you, and you didn’t hate it. You ruled that school, dated various guys and slept around a few times, you’d started smoking, something you weren’t too proud of but only when you were stressed. Everything was perfect, your current boyfriend Tom was starting to think about college and you had made a plan to move in together once school was over. But no, that was all changed. You still remember the morning.

It was last week of summer before school started again, your last year. Your brother Sean came into your room.

“Dipshit” he shouted as he banged the wall annoyingly. You groaned and threw a pillow at him.

“What?!” He threw a flat packed cardboard box into your room. “We are leaving tomorrow, hurry up and pack”

“Leaving?!” Sean nodded.

“We are going back to fucking Hawkins” He left with that delivery of news. Your blood ran cold. ‘WHAT’. Your mind raced as you ran downstairs. Your other two brothers were arguing with your dad already. Sean was smirking in the background as George and Arthur complained to your father. They were triplets all a year older than you. Unlike you, back in Hawkins they were party animals. Very popular, a lifestyle you only now started to understand.

You huffed as your father tried to explain to them that it was due to his work. It got to the point where you heard your dad scream at them. “We are leaving tomorrow there is nothing you can do about it, pack right now!” He was pissed.

Everyone went silent as you all sulked back upstairs. You immediately called Tom, he offered to come over and help pack, spend some last moments with you. It all happened so fast and before you knew it you had to say goodbye to the house you’d grown to love. You held Tom one last time, you promised to make it work, long distance plus it was only a year, he waved goodbye, your number written on his arm.

Once you’d arrived to Hawkins, you were reminded of that past you. A weaker you. You hated that memory. You were so innocent, such a goodie two shoes who wouldn’t dream of going near someone who smoked let alone date one and become one yourself. Cringing at the thought of your flouncy dresses and sensible shoes.

You drove your car into the drive way of the address your father had given you, your brothers were driving their cars whilst your father drove the moving van, he was going to buy a new car once he got here. A fresh start he called it. Bullshit.

This house was huge compared to your old house in Hawkins. The small three bedroom bungalow. Not even enough space for a dining room. It was cosy at least, not too small. This place was beautiful, with perfectly trimmed hedges, it had three floors and every bedroom had an en-suite, you bagged the top floor because in your words : “you’re the only girl in the house therefore require the most privacy”

After having unpacked your stuff, the start of Hawkins High soon dawned on you. You’d stayed inside the rest of the three days you had left here. No way where you letting anyone get a sneak peak of what was to come, obviously they wouldn’t suspect it would be you. After all Y/N Eastwood was the innocent church girl who baked cookies and hung around with Nancy Wheeler.

This now leads us onto where we are currently.

You, in the parking lot of the school, people whispering your name. Some people barely even believing it was you. Grabbing a cigarette from your denim jacket that hung loosely on your figure you took a drag from it. Smoke lacing your lungs. You took your bag from your car and locked it. The school bell rang whilst you made your way across to the school. Your heels clicking against the concrete.

It was that clicking of - Heels?- that confused Billy, he thought that you were a guy, I mean your car and your number plate, it didn’t make sense. His head moved to look at the this “Eastwood”. He felt his pants get a little tight.

He watched your ass as you strutted across the parking lot. A short, white, pleated skirt with a tight, cropped, black ,cami top that was cut into a V neck, that accentuated your cleavage. A denim jacket wrapped around you, slightly oversized. A pair of black heels heals to complete the look.

The cigarette that hung from his lips nearly fell on the ground. He watched Carol and Tina run after you, desperate.

He heard Max shuffle around and grab her bag before she muttered a ‘bye’ and left to go into school.

A hand rested on his shoulder and the familiar voice that he recognised belonging to Tommy H started to speak, “Y/N Eastwood... Shes changed a bit” he chuckled. Billy shrugged his hand off of him.

“Whatever” he muttered as he threw his cigarette on the floor and went into the school.

You walked towards your locker. Carol and Tina behind you. “Y/N Eastwood?!” They both continued to ask questions. You smirked.

“Yes it’s me, anything else you wanna know?” Carol and Tina were taken back by the attitude. They used to mock you occasionally for your kindness, but they weren’t ever cruel. Not as bad as they could’ve been.

Now, to you they were just like the girls back in New York, plastic. So fake it’s like looking at a Barbie Doll. But in your new experience you new how to deal with them, befriend but don’t trust. The only person you trusted in New York was Tom, all the other girls were snakes who only really used you for popularity.

Once you’d reached your locker you took your English book out of your bag and shoved it (the bag) in there. You held the book to your chest as Carol and Tina talked about how much they “missed you” and how all those silly words they said were such great “banter”. You smiled along with them, befriended.

The walk to your English class was fairly short, you really just wanted to escape the constant chattering in your ear about some sort of gossip.

Before you reached the door you heard someone shout your name. Tommy.

Carol ran up to Tommy and he threw his arm around her shoulders. “So when did little miss innocent become badass?” Tommy smirked as he referenced the new you.

“I got laid” you replied a smirk now on your lips.

Everyone laughed and Tommy’s mate, Dean, even patted your back. “She really is a changed woman now guys, never thought I’d hear her say such sinful words” he placed his arm around your shoulders. “How about we get out of here Y/N?” He leaned down to whisper into your ear. You grimaced and pushed his arm off of you.

“I’m down for skipping as a group, but unfortunately I’m taken, sorry boys” You sassed as Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Well he isn’t here now is he?” He tried. You rolled your eyes.

“Not happening, sorry... what was your name again” you knew his name obviously, but this was a new Y/N the girl who everyone wanted to be friends with.

Tommy let out a loud laugh at Deans frown. “Well then, I suggest we skip as group, after all Y/N is a new woman... she won’t be the little tattle tail she used to be” he took a dig at you.

Your old self would’ve been upset by a comment like that, maybe if your day wasn’t so good you’d have cried just a little bit. But you stood there, unphased, a smirk plastered on your face.

“Sure thing” You all left to go to someone’s car. He was called Billy or something, you really were forgetting some names.

You saw the car first. A nice blue camaro, beautiful car, your father used to have one similar, it was a red one, older but still cool. Then you saw the boy leaning against it. Cigarette inbetween his lips. You met eachothers gaze.

His blode curls framed his symmetrical face. He had slight stubble, which formed around his mouth, his lips were a plump pinky-red colour. But his eyes, they were gorgeous, ocean blue irises. He had a strong frame, he worked out. The glimpse you had at his chest showed that. His slightly unbuttoned shirt underneath the denim jacket. ‘Double denim’ you thought not many could pull that off, but he sure could.

He grinned at you. He’d been wanting to introduce himself since that moment he heard your heels.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fuck. You calmed yourself down a bit. You had a boyfriend, he’s just one of those handsome guys you see and think about for a moment, before forgetting about them later, he obviously has a reputation.

His eyes traveled lower on your body, he studied you again. You had a pretty face, no, a beautiful face with a stunning figure to match. You weren’t too tall or too short, same height as Carol meaning he could easily Dom you. You were for sure a sub, no matter how badass you looked right now he was certain he could get you whimpering his name in the sheets.

Tina noticed Billy staring at you and nudged you. “Making eyes at Hargrove already, thought you had a boyfriend?” She whispered. You took a deep breath she was right, you did.

“I do, and this Billy kid has nothing on him” you smirked as you looked elsewhere. Tommy introduced you two to eachother.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl” he bought your hand to his lips and kissed it softly. You moved it out quickly.

“Umm... thanks” you looked at the floor for a second. Thinking about how you carry yourself next. You needed to show your confidence. “So is this what you guys call fun?” You perked up. Tommy shrugged.

“What else is there to do?” Tommy quipped. You smirked.

“Why don’t we go to the mall or something?”

“Don’t have one” You took that as your queue to let someone else suggest something.

You stood and listened to everyone’s conversations. Hawkins was so boring. Nothing interesting ever happened here. No wonder you moved in the first place. You wanted to go back to New York so bad, you thought about Tom.

Whilst thinking you didn’t notice Billy move closer to you. “So then Princess, where you from, recently I mean?” You met his eyes.

“New York, the bright lights and city is so much more exciting than this shithole” you sighed. Billy smirked. You were sassy.

“True... true, then why come back?” He raised an eyebrow, your eyes hadn’t left eachother the whole time.

“Dads work, something like that” he nods his head slightly.

“Tommy says you’re different from what you used to be, what changed then?”

“That’s for me to know and you to maybe find out” You sassed.

“Ahhh So she’s a mystery girl, I find ways of solving mysteries easy but I think I’m gonna need to find out a bit more about you, for further investigation... of course” he winked at you. You smirked. “Unfortunately, Mr Reputation... I have a boyfriend” why was it so hard to say that?? The bell ringed as if on queue signaling the end of break. You waved goodbye to the group as you, Carol and Tina walked away together to your next class. Billy was shocked to say the least.

“Cat got your tongue Hargrove?” Tommy chuckled. His boys all laughed along with him. Billy rolled his eyes and went to class.

Soon enough your day had come to an end and you managed to weave your way though students who were crowded around your car one brunette caught your eye in particular. ‘Shit’ it was Nancy, your former best friend. After Barb things weren’t the same, she would call you every night but once she told you the news you two grew distant and then the phone calls stopped and you lost contact. It was shame, but you didn’t need Nancy, you had Carol and Tina now. Something you thought you’d never think.

You backed out of the space and drove home. All that was on your mind now was calling Tom.

Once you’d got home you ran upstairs. You dumped your bag on your floor and called him.

After a few rings you heard his voice. “Y/N, I cant talk right no-“ you heard some shuffling and a girls voice.

“Who’s that?” Tom took a deep breath.

“I can’t do this anymore Y/N, this long distance thing, it’s over I’m sorry” he hung up before you could even say anything.

‘That asshole, it’s only been three fucking days’... you were gonna stay together. You felt the tears coming. You hadn’t cried since you’d last been in Hawkins. You couldn’t help but let them fall. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. You couldn’t move.

He was the only person you trusted in that whole damn place and ... now he’s... you breathed in. You tried to gain composure.

You sat on your bed, looking straight at the phone that was on your wall. You wanted to break it, you wanted to tear it up, you wanted to scream. You stayed silent.

You let the tears roll down your cheeks as you let out an ugly cry and delved your head into your pillows. Your mind was all over the place... You hadn’t cried since you’d last been in Hawkins...

The words “weak” and “dumb” played through your mind. People would allways call you this because you never stood up for yourself, you never said anything if someone was horrible and most importantly you let people tread on you. So you stopped crying whenever someone said something horrible, you said something back. You stopped crying fullstop.

You brushed the tears from your face and went to the mirror in your room. ‘You can do this Y/N’ you thought. You don’t need him. All he wants is the next piece of ass out there. Like you care, a lie. You didn’t even want him anyway, another lie.

You were done with feelings, that was a fairly convincing thought but still a lie. All you needed was to calm the fuck down, shove a smile on your face and walk through those doors of Hawkins High tomorrow and act as though you couldn’t give a single shit, that’s a good plan.

You could get anyone. You were Y/N Eastwood. The new Y/N Eastwood. Who got all the boys attention, you didn’t need Toms special treatment. ‘Fuck him’ you thought. You’re over him anyway, another lie.

You took a deep breath and grabbed a cigarette from your bag. You lit it and inhaled the smoke. Your nerves calming. You hated smoking, you hated it with a passion, it smelled horrible and felt horrible too, but at the same time something about it calmed you.

All you need is a plan for when you get out of here, nothing wrong with some minor adjustments.

[forever-more-never-again]

Love is love (A Bucky Request)

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count:4580

Pairing: Eventual Bucky X Reader

Warnings: Swearing, gun shots, blood, wounds, panic attack mentioned, general angst

Request: Hello! Can I request a Bucky x reader scenario?? Bucky feels uncomfortable around reader because she's not even 20 but he likes her and because of that he's really mean and he makes reader sad cause she's an introvert but the there's floof and a kiss? But please before the floof make it as angsty as possible I want my heart in pieces.

A/n: I’m so sorry it took so long! I am still working on so many fics but with the holidays and college life has been hectic! I hope this extra long, slow burn, angsty, but happy fluff ending fic will help make amends! Enjoy!

Masterlist

You didn’t even know what you did wrong. What you did to make him hate you so much.

Glancing from the corner of your eye, you spotted Bucky sitting on the couch talking to Steve. Laughing.

Being Happy.

Your lips quirked up in a smile unbeknownst to you.

“Something catch your interest?... Or someone…?”

You jolted as the red headed assassin leaned against the kitchen counter and gestured out to the living room. Her eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on her lips.

You hoped you weren’t as flushed as you felt as you ducked your head and averted your eyes from the two men.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Nat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m cooking.”

Natasha laughed, “I know. You don’t like anyone invading your space. But [Y/n], you’re an Avenger. You’re going to have to become more extroverted as some point.”

You just smiled and laughed. Natasha was one of your best friends since joining the Avengers two years ago. She knew you were introverted and always made jokes. But you knew she meant them lightly, you didn’t take offence.

Losing yourself to whistling some song you overheard on the radio, you didn’t notice the water boiling over until the loud hiss and pop.

“Oh shit!”

Before you could reach it, a different pair of hands grabbed the pot and removed it from the burner. Specifically one human hand and one metal hand.

Glancing up, you saw Bucky grimace as you placed the pot over and turned down the stove.

“Thanks. Bucky.”

He scowled, barely looking at you, before stalking out of the kitchen.

You sighed, grabbing the box of pasta and finishing the dinner.

The next day you woke up early, wanting to get in some extra hours in the gym since you had a free day.

Wrapping your hands, you stepped up to the punching bag and began.

An hour later, sweat was pouring off your forehead and your breathing was coming in short and heavy, but you didn’t stop.

The need to be good. To be good enough to get some sort of notice from Bucky, was so ingrained, you couldn’t turn it off.

“[Y/n]. You’re needed out on the bay dock.”

The voice of FRIDAY Echoed in the spacious gym.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, frowning. You weren’t on the docket for missions today.

Quickly shrugging on a shirt and wiping off as much as sweat as you could, you ran down the hallways towards the jet bay.

Entering you saw Steve, Clint, and Bucky gathered around talking in angry tones, eyes tense.

“What’s going on guys?” You walked up to them, noticing how Bucky’s shoulders tensed and he turned slightly away from you.

Hiding the hurt, you looked at Steve, waiting for an explanation.

Steve’s normally kind blue eyes held fire as he gestured for you to walk with him.

“Sorry to pull you in [Y/n]. But we just got intel that Hydra is moving a Nuclear bomb as we speak from their base in Germany to Italy.”

Your brain ran to catch up to the horror that Steve was speaking of. “The Eiffel tower?” Steve nodded, “We think that’s their play but we’re not sure and we need to make sure they don’t make it far enough for it to be a threat. Wheel’s are going up now and we’re on route to their last known location.”

You grimaced, but nodded, going into mission mode.

Running and jumping onto the jet, you sat down next to Bucky.

“Why do you think Hydra is making such an obvious play?” You asked, nonchalantly, or at least, pretending that you were.

Bucky growled. Literally...growled, low in his throat, not looking at you. “It’s a trap.”

Clint was walking by right then and scoffed, his usual smile in place, “It’s always a trap. But with [Y/n] here, it should be an easy take down.” He winked at you.

You laughed. Keeping your smile in place as Bucky abruptly stood and walked over to where Steve stood talking back to the base through the comms in the jet.

“Hey kiddo. Chin up. He’s just a little rough around the edges.”

You wilted slightly under Clint’s empathetic gaze.

“I just don’t understand what I did to make him mad at me. It’s been almost a year and He barely talks to me, leaves the room when I enter and specifically requests to be put on a different mission schedule than me. How can I have a crush on him? Stupid heart.” You muttered that last part, crossing your arms across your chest, sulking.

Clint laughed, leaning over, he clasped your shoulders in his hands, “Listen [Y/n]. I’m probably the last person to talk about relationships, but if there is one thing I know, it’s Manchurian Candidate over there.” He shrugged a shoulder towards the two super soldiers. “He isn’t so good at the talking and people aspect of life. And if he’s avoiding someone, it normally means it’s because he wants to be close to them but is too scared.”

“Scared?” You sideyed the large beefy man. His brown hair falling softly against his stubble cheeks.

“Yeah. He’s scared of hurting them. Or going all Winter Soldier.”

You frowned, Looking back at Clint, “But I thought that Shuri kid got rid of the trigger words…?”

Clint sighed, removing his hands from your shoulders, to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah, but years of being under Hydra’s control and being a weapon has made him paranoid. His PTSD is higher than the most battle worn Military man.”

Sorrow filled your chest. Sorrow that one of the nicest people you had met had endured all that torture.

Straightening your spine, you steeled your gaze, “Well I’m going to make him let me get close to him. He can’t keep me closed off.”

Clint winked, “There you go.”

“Alright Gather round!” Steve marched to the center of the Jet.

Standing, you felt the jet slow down. “Our informant said that Hydra was spotted ten minutes ago near the canal. We need to remove as many civilians as possible from the surrounding area before we engage. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded.

Steve turned to face his old war buddy, “Bucky, I want you to stay with [Y/n] at all times. I don’t want Hydra to catch you alone.”

Your tongue felt like cotton. Bucky was being paired with you? You expected him to object, but he simply nodded along to Steve and flexed his vibranium arm, the gold reflecting off of it.

The only sound along the canals was the water gently lapping at the sidewalk edges. The silence was deafening.

Walking side by side with Bucky, you kept your eyes peeled for any stray pedestrians and any suspicious characters.

So you jumped a little when Bucky spoke up beside you, “Hey, uh.. [Y/n]...”

Glancing over at him, you saw him rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but towards you.

Frowning slightly, confused, you grunted to show that you heard him, still looking around the empty area.

“I uh, You know I’m technically like a hundred...and you..”

Before he could finish, you saw a glint from around the corner and shoved Bucky to the side.

Bang!

The bullet that was meant for Bucky, shattered the concrete from the building behind you.

“Hydra!” You screamed, running towards where you had seen the barrel of the gun.

Dimly, you were aware of Bucky cursing and yelling into the comms behind you.

You were fully immersed in mission mode. Any thoughts about your personal life flew out of your head. The only thing you were focused on was the dark dressed man sprinting away from you towards a submarine sitting in the canal.

“Eay!” You used a rock to push your body forward and landed on the back of the german man.

Dodging a punch aimed for you head, you wrangled your legs so that he was wrapped in them. Taking your hands, you wrenched his jaw open so that he couldn't bite down on the cyanide capsule he most likely had in his mouth.

“Good job Agent.” You beamed up at Bucky.

Heart fluttering at the flushed pink blush on his cheeks as he helped you get the man up and searched his mouth.

“Buck. Good work.”

You turned to see Steve and Clint walking towards you.

You stepped slightly back, to fade in the background. So you were shocked, when Bucky pulled you forward and placed his metal hand on your shoulder.

“Actually, it was [Y/n] who chased this guy down and captured him.”

Steve’s blue eyes flickered in surprise before a smile spread across his face and he nodded his head towards you in respect.

“Avenger scum!”

All four of your heads turned as you remembered the Hydra agent sitting on the ground tied up.

You knelt down in front of him, gripping the lapels of his suit, where the Hydra brooch shined, you barked, “What is the plan with the bomb? Where is it!?”

The man laughed, the sound brittle and dry, before spitting at you.

You didn’t flinch, slowly reaching up to wipe the spit off your cheek. Then, in a flash, you had backhanded the man. The crack of the contact, echoing across the silent waters.

His head jolted, his cheek turning red and purple from your power.

Your face showed no change in emotion as you asked again, “Where is it?”

The man growled, his eyes glinting dangerously, “Cut off one head, two more grow in its place.”

You let go of his lapels, forcing him to drop back down.

Standing up, dusting your hands on your pants, you turned to the awestruck men, “We aren’t getting anywhere with him and each minute we waste is more time for their plan to get in action.”

You finally looked up and saw the way the men were looking at you. Getting self conscious, you scuffed your feet, “What?”

Clint whistled, “Damn [Y/n]. You were badass there.”

Steve molded back into his captain persona, “Alright, let’s spread back out. Clint, take this Hydra agent back to the jet.”

As they left, it was back to just you and Bucky.

“That was…”

“What?” You couldn’t look at Bucky. Afraid of what you would see in his chocolate eyes.

“You saved me back there...Thank you.”

You shrugged, “Were a team.”

Simple. But not so simple. When one team member was in love with the other.

Eventually you could see the twinkle of the Eiffel tower. And then you were standing under it, staring up in awe with Bucky.

“I always wanted to see it. I just never thought it would be during a mission.” You chuckled.

Bucky smiled at you, seeing you bathed in the golden lights of the tower. The warmth mirroring that in your eyes.

“I’m glad I could share it with you.”

He didn’t realize he had said it out loud until you turned to him, a wary smile on your lips, “Really?”

“Really.” He took a deep breath, eyes closing as if drawing strength, “Hey [Y/n], about what I was saying before we got shot at…”

You stepped towards him, something in the air causing electricity to tingle down your spine, your heart beating fast in your chest, “Yes?”

Bucky stammered, your heart growing as you watched the big man stumble and cheeks flush, “I..That is...You know...I..”

You were sucked into his aura. The lights, the silence, the night. It was like something from a dream. From one of the romance novels you shamelessly read late at night.

And then his eyes widened in horror.

Your smile slipped into a confused frown, this wasn’t what happened in the novels.

“[Y/n]! Look out!”

It was like moving through molasses. Slowly turning around as Bucky took an agonizingly slow step towards you, vibranium arm raised to shield you from the threat.

That was when you saw it. The line of shadows moving. Rippling. And slowly stepping into the dappled lights coming from the Eiffel tower.

A row of Hydra officers, dressed in black combat suits. Guns raised. Aimed. At you.

“[Y/n]!”

Your name, screamed in such despair was what broke the spell. Like a rubber band snapping, breaking, everything returned to normal speed.

Bang!Bam!Bang!Bam!Bang!Bam!

The guns went off. A row of bullets. Heading towards you. The smell of gunpowder was what hit you first. Your eyes traced the casings as the fell from the high powered rifles.

You sprinted, running alongside the line of officers. Bucky stuck where he was, his arm taking the bullets intended to kill him.

Dodging, your brain was in overdrive. No thoughts. Nothing. You couldn’t focus. It was fight of flight. And flight was taking over.

“[Y/n]? What’s happening!?”

Steve’s frantic voice in your ear jolted your brain.

You pressed a finger to the comm as you continued dodging the spray of bullets, knowing with each passing second that the chances of you being hit were increasing, the line of Hydra men seemed never ending, they surrounded the tower.

“Hydra! It was an Ambush! Bucky and I are taking heavy fire! The tower!”

Steve cursed, “We’re on our way! Find a place to hide!”

You grunted, your legs burning painfully as you slid on the concrete, avoiding an overhead round of bullets, “Kinda hard to do that! We’re surrounded! Bucky and I got separated!”

That split second where you glanced back to see if you could spot Bucky was your downfall.

“Agh!” You scream was a shadow of the agonizing pain that bloomed from your stomach.

Your legs gave out and your momentum made you fall, head over heels, tumbling to a stop, the concrete an unforgiving safety mat.

Sweat ran down your face in rivets, the salty taste stinging your chapped lips.

The lights of the tower shined down on you, like hospital lights, blinding you.

Your vision wavered, the pain from your stomach screeching.

Raising a hand, a shaking, unsteady hand, to your face, you saw the bright red of your blood coating it.

The gunfire had stopped.

Blinking past the darkness that threatened to overtake your sight, you watched the Hydra officers inch towards you. Their shadows falling over you, blocking the twinkling bulbs of the night and the tower.

“[Y/n]!?”

“Bucky?”

“I’m safe! Get [Y/n]!”

The voices of your teammates flickered in and out.

Tears filled your eyes at your name coming from Bucky, sounding so heart wrenching.

And then it was silent. The darkness swept in, dragging you down into numb nothingness.

You twitched. In the darkness of your min, you frowned, why was your bed so scratchy?

Cracking open an eyelid, you groaned at the bright lights that assaulted you.

Slowly, adjusting, your eyes opened.

You weren’t in your bed.

You were...in the Avenger’s medical room?

A loud rumble made you jump. Looking down by your hospital bed, your heart slowed it’s frantic beating.

A soft smile spread across your face. Bucky was sleeping in a chair next to your bed. His normal hand resting on your arm.

You took the moment to really look at the man who had ahold of your heart.

In sleep, he looked so calm, so at peace. His face was relaxed, he wasn’t on guard.

His hair swayed in front of his head, moving with each breath.

His mouth was slightly opened, his lips not in a frown.

And then his hand twitched and clenched on your arm.

“Ohhh!”

You flinched in pain, reflexively wrenching your arm out of his grasp. You turned your attention from the sleeping man to yourself.

You couldn’t remember anything after getting shot. Your eyes widened, you had been shot!

Flinging the itchy, flimsy hospital covers off you, you looked down at your stomach.

There was no bandages.

Slowly, you lifted the gown to look. There was a raised scar...red and angry...where you had been shot.

Now you were really confused, and beginning to hyperventilate as a panic attack came on.

You hadn’t been out that long...had you? How long does it take for a bullet wound to heal? For it to be a scar? What had happened? Why couldn't you remember!?

A Hand settled on your shoulder, causing you to jump.

Tears were in your vision, your chest rising rapidly as you gasped for air.

“Hey..Hey...you’re okay [Y/n]. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

You struggled to focus on Bucky’s calming voice.

His kind eyes, holding so much sorrow and guilt.

You raised a shaking hand and caressed his cheek, not caring that it was forward or that it might reveal your feelings. You had to touch him, assure yourself that he was real.

His eyes closed, a sigh coming from his lips as he leaned into your touch.

Gradually, your breathing returned to normal.

Giving a shaky laugh, you withdrew your hand and wiped your cheeks. “Sorry.”

Bucky opened his eyes, and shook his head at you, “Why are you sorry?”

You chuckled darkly, averting your eyes from his face, “For getting so emotional. Anyways,” You cleared your throat, interrupting Bucky who looked like he was going to say something, an angry glint in his eyes, “What happened...I can’t..” You cleared your throat, pushing the panic back down, “ I can’t remember.”

The slightest tension in his shoulders alerted you that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

You gritted your teeth, shifting so that you sat up straighter in the bed, “Lay it on me.”

Bucky’s face showed so many warring emotions. Before he finally started with, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

You responded back fast, “I was running from the line of Hydra officers that had ambushed us under the tower. I got shot in the stomach. I went down. You and I were separated and Steve and Clint were trying to get to us.”

You raised your gown to show Bucky the scar, “How is this a scar?”

Bucky raised his hand, “I’ll get there.”

He ran a hand through his hair, drawing your attention to the deep bags you just now noticed resting under his eyes.

He hadn’t been sleeping. You think.

“We heard you go down through the comms. Steve and Clint found me on the second level of the tower. I had managed to evade the officers enough to get up to the higher ground. We ran towards where I had seen you last. The Hydra officers were oddly running away as well.”

You didn’t think you liked where this was going. Bucky’s voice was growing more and more rough as he went on. Not looking at you, his vibranium hand clenching.

“We found..” He took a deep breath, “We found a puddle of your blood. But you were nowhere in sight. Your comm was smashed to pieces next to it.”

You were right, you weren’t liking where this was going. Because suddenly, your mind was filled with flashes, lights, sounds.

“Get off me!”

“Bucky!”

“Restrain her!”

“Get the serum!”

“It’s too agitated!”

“Throw subject into cyro!”

“No! Let me go!”

“Bucky!”

“...I love yo…”

“[Y/n]?”

You were back in the present, in the hospital room. Bucky standing up, hands on your shoulders, gazing at you in such a worried, heartfelt way, your heart clenched.

You didn’t care, you didn’t think, you threw yourself towards him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, burying your face into his neck, giant sobs coming out broken as you clung to him like a lifesaver.

Bucky stiffened at first, but slowly softened as you clung to him, his arms coming around to rub your back comfortingly, “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Words came out, broken by sobs and hiccups, wrapped in tears, “I...they took me...I was...they cut me...Needles...Super serum...They froze me! I was frozen! So cold...They taunted me with how they tortured you...they told me stories...they starved me...they tested me...I...I...I…”

You blubbered….not really paying attention to the words you were saying. Just needing to get the sudden influx of emotions and memories out of your system.

When you quieted down, Bucky slowly lowered you back down on the bed.

Wiping away the tears, you asked the question, “How long was I gone?”

Bucky’s voice was as soft and quiet as yours as he spoke two words..two painful words for you to hear, “Three years.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, You didn’t bother to wipe them away again.

“How?”

He knew what you were asking.

“Doll…” He put up a hand to wipe your cheeks.

But you weren’t having it. Swatting it away, you glared at him, “How did you find me?”

He sighed, and then surprised you by climbing up onto the bed with you. You slid over to give him room.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged you so that your head was resting on his shoulder. Your tears steadily soaking his gray shirt.

“We searched for you...everyday. Steve threatened to lock me up in the raft again because I was so hellbent on getting you back I was getting reckless and going to any and every Hydra base I could find.”

You hiccuped and giggled. Knowing that Steve would never do that to his best friend.

Bucky chuckled with you, his chest vibrating with the sound. You raised a hand and rested it on his chest.

“I knew he was just exasperated with me. But I couldn’t get the image of you out of my head.Knowing that Hydra had you...Knowing what I went through at their hands. Picturing you in my place...It tore me up.”

You stayed silent as you listened to him. The raw emotion in his voice so powerful it made you wonder..

“It was during the second year that we got a hit. Someone had seen a suspicious person enter a road sewage tunnel in New England. When we landed, we scoured the place. And found a base with files on you.”

Your heart sped up a little. Learning about how far this man went to try and find you after you had been missing for so long. But you also felt angry at Hydra, for stealing three years from you. Three years that you couldn’t remember because you had been in Cryo.

“You had been…” Bucky choked up. You leaned your head back so you could see his face. You were shocked to see tears slipping down his cheeks. He coughed, wiping his face, “You had been subject 245 in their files. They were experimenting with some chemicals, trying to recreate the serum that Dr. Erskine used on Steve. The one they had given me.”

His arm around your shoulder tensed, dragging you even closer to him.

“You were being kept in a base in Alaska. Apparently you gave them hell..”

He chuckled, glancing down at you. You smiled, teasing, “Of course I did. What else was I going to do?”

His laugh trailed off with a sigh, “The deemed the experiment a failure and threw you in Cyro to be kept there until they found another use for you.”

You leaned over Bucky, “But you found me.”

He smiled softly, a hand tracing your cheek, “We found you. You’ve been asleep for roughly four days since we got you out of the Cryo pod. We weren’t sure what you would remember. I thought seeing me first would be a good idea.”

You frowned, “Why?”

Bucky blushed, stammering, “ Uh...because we were partners on the last mission and I was the last person you saw...so I thought...you know.”

You laughed, flicking his nose, “Calm down Soldier.”

Bucky stilled, gazing at you, unwavering.

“Bruce ran some tests…”

You slowly got off the bed, walking over the the counter of medical tools, Bucky following you.

“And? What did Hydra manage to accomplish?” Your words were spoken with no venom, just resignation.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist, turning you to face him. Your eyes shone back at you through his, showing your surprise and shock.

“Somehow, you have some of the serum aspects. Like delayed aging. And a faster metabolism.”

You sighed, joking, “But no super strength?”

Bucky smiled at you joking, “No super strength. Sorry.”

You hit his shoulder lightly, “Why do the guys get all the good stuff?”

Looking down at his arms still wrapped around you, you looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow.

His face flushed that lovely shade of pink as he blurted out, “I like you.”

“What?” You needed your ears cleaned. You coulda swore he just said..

“I like you, [Y/n].” Yup, he said that.”Now that you have delayed aging like me...the gap between us doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore. So I can confess..”

You interrupted him, twisting out of his arms, you crossed your own over your chest, “So this is because I suddenly can’t age anymore!? You never showed any interest before I became Hydra’s plaything! Why now!? Just because we have similar serums in our system!? You bastard!” You hit his chest hard, Tears stinging your eyes again, “I loved you! I loved you for a long time! I left you alone because I figured you didn’t care for me! I knew our age gap was odd! But I didn’t care! I saw the soft and heartfelt Bucky who cared for his old war buddy! Who tried to correct his wrongs even though it was Hydra who did those terrible things! I saw a man who was trying to be better everyday! I didn’t see the age! And now suddenly...You don’t either!? I just can’t-”

Your tirad was stopped suddenly as rough lips caught yours in a warm embrace.

You struggled for a moment before giving in to the scent and pressure and warmth that was distinctly Bucky.

You welcomed his touch, his hands trailing along your back. Your lips opening and inhaling his rough masculine Vanilla scent.

He pulled away after a few breathless minutes.

You gazed at him, your thoughts a jumbled mess now.

He chuckled, “I know I pushed you away before...But during that last mission, I was going to ask what you thought about dating a hundred year old assassin. I liked you before Hydra...and I’ll love you after. I don’t care about what age you are or what Hydra did to you. I care about you, [Y/n].”

And god help you, the way his eyes shone with the intensity of his words had you believing him.

Your heart soared. A smile crept on your lips as you stepped closer to him, “Why don’t you remind me that age doesn't matter and that love is love..”

He growled playfully, “Gladly.”

Right as his lips were about to touch yours though, the sound of the doors slamming had you both flinching and turning to see the rest of the team standing there in various stages of shock.

Finally, Clint broke the awkward silence, “So...does this mean I get [Y/n]’s room as my archery practice room?”

You leaned against Bucky as you both broke out laughing.

FOREVER Taglist:( Strikethrough means I couldn't tag you)

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey  @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @mcuimxgine @mythixmagic @chas-z @iflew-onabus @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger

Bucky Taglist:

@evyiione

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc

[angelichl]

hii, i hope you’re enjoying your vacation, i know you said you wouldn’t be as active atm because of that but i did want to ask if you were still interested in writing a college au and if that’s something you’d do? lots of love

I keep trying to write a college au seeing as I’m a College Student™️ rn so I feel like I could write something accurate and I have a wealth of experience to draw from, but every time I try I keep getting stuck rip.

recently I’ve had an idea that’s kind of an ode to the wattpad stories I read when I was in middle school, with the good girl boy / bad boy dynamic, so I wanna write my own take on that and also try out the “I’ll teach you how to flirt with that guy you like if you help me with this stupid math project” trope. and also they live in different buildings but their rooms are across from each other and sometimes louis forgets to close his curtains (and harry “forgets” to close his) so they See Things like louis changing into his pajamas and harry doing bicep curls while reading romance novels.

so harry is the shady loner dude sulking around campus in the vintage army jacket, and everyone is intimidated by him bc of a dark backstory, even though he did nothing wrong. he may be brooding/moody/etc but he’s also the person to pick up earthworms off the sidewalk to save them from getting stepped on, so really he would never hurt a fly. he’s an english/psychology double major and he runs the eco club which is kind of funny bc no one would really expect him to be sitting at a table in the dining hall trying to get students to sign a petition for the school to transition to mostly renewable energy by 2025, but there he is. there are rumors that he gets loud and aggressive when he’s angry, so people stay away from him for the most part, but the rumors aren’t true. he works at the college’s writing center, where he has his feet propped up on the desk and some sort of obscure world lit book in his hands as he waits for the next nervous freshman to come to him and ask for help on an essay.

meanwhile louis is the quiet, shy physics and dance double major. he has approximately 2 friends but they both recently started messing around so louis is often left to either third-wheel ziam or go do something by himself. he can usually be found tucked into his favorite nook on the third floor of the library, or practicing his ballet form in the dance studio. on the weekends, he practices pottery at the craft center, where he sometimes sees harry heading into the dark room to develop his photos for his photography class. louis also has a stupidly hopeless crush on a stupid boy who works at the art center, so. they’re kind of friends but whenever the boy talks to him, louis gets all shy and timid and can’t form a sentence of more than three words at once. he’s lucky if he says anything at all and doesn’t make a fool of himself.

so, anyways, harry needs to take calc for some requirement, and while he was decent at math in high school, this class is really killing him. he’s talked to the professor about it and gone to the math center for help but all the other students are intimidated by him so they aren’t much help. so he’s frustrated and annoyed and decides to hell with it, he’s gonna go talk to that quiet little physics major he always sees rushing down the sidewalk, bundled up in warm oversized sweaters with the sleeves pulled over his hands. he’s good at calc, everyone knows he is, and he seems nice. he seems like he wouldn’t say no to harry, or try to brush him off.

so harry kind of corners him in the dining hall one day, and he starts to propose a deal: harry will literally pay louis for his time if he helps him pass this class. but then the guy louis likes comes up to them to say hi to him and louis gets all flustered and hardly says more than two words, making a fool out of himself, with harry watching it all amusedly. and realizing that it could be a mutually beneficial agreement. so harry says what he’s thinking and louis resists at first but eventually he’s persuaded, knowing he really could use some help from someone like harry—bc everyone is afraid of him, yeah, but they all respect him too, and he’s never had trouble finding someone to hook up with. people may be intimidated, but they’re also drawn to him.

so it’s awkward at first but eventually, through hours of studying together in the library trying to work out complex derivatives, and harry coaching louis through having an almost normal conversation with the guy he likes, they become sort-of friends. not that they would ever admit it to anybody. in late october, just before halloween, harry convinces louis to go to a party on saturday night to make a move on the guy he likes, or at least try to get his attention.

louis is a bit freaked out bc he doesn’t like large crowds of people, he doesn’t like to drink much, and he’d much rather stay in and watch true crime documentaries with liam and zayn, but. harry picks out what louis should wear, and they run through the plan one more time before heading across campus to the party they know louis’ crush will be at.

he’s there right when they walk in, but harry and louis decided it would never work if louis tried to start the conversation, they needed the guy to come to him first, so the plan was for louis to go dance in the crowd and hope he was watching. he was too shy to dance alone without being at least tipsy, first, but all they had wa a cheap beer and a toxic mix of alcohol in a trash can which was quite frankly disgusting, so harry rummaged through the cupboards even though he wasn’t allowed to and mixed rum and cider just for him. cue louis being wary and making harry take a sip first before shrugging and downing the cup, backing away into the crowd while making eye contact with harry the whole time.

and, like. he knows he should be thinking of the guy he likes as he’s dancing, trying to be sexy about it and probably failing, but. harry’s eyes are on him, they have been all night, and all louis can think about is how much they’ve grown to like each other these past few weeks, all the time spent in the quiet hours of the night studying calculus and trying to teach louis how to get a boy’s attention. lately it had been more than that, laughing more times than not at stupid jokes, asking each other about their days, hanging out whenever they had free time under the guise of perfecting the plan. last week they drove to mcdonald’s in the middle of the night because they were sick of studying for their exams the next day, and they ended up driving around for hours just talking about anything and everything. and when harry finally dropped louis off at his dorm just as the sun was beginning to rise, louis could’ve sworn harry wanted to kiss him.

so louis keeps dancing and the feeling of harry’s eyes on him burns under his skin and makes him want more, more, more.

[high5nerd]

Alone Together--Chap. Thirty

Sadie and I were very discreet with our planning for the following week, as well as Sadie putting in time for her own enjoyment of being a spirit. I couldn't stop her, but from what it seems, she was having a blast just by flying around or casually floating by in whatever silly pose she felt like doing. It was both amusing and...worrisome.

What if she chose the life of a spirit? Where would that leave Alice and I? She would never age while Alice and I grew old and carried on a legacy...hopefully. If she'll say yes.

You never know what Alice will say, she's surprising like that.

Where was I? Oh, right. Worrying myself to death over Sadie's rash decisions.

All in all, Sadie has a life in front of her. If she chooses the life of a spirit, she's leaving behind not just family and friends, but what she's been working for her entire life. Before this all happened she badly wanted to help those in need and be an activist against injustice and unethical issues. She was one of the top kids in her class, she had the voice and the passion and the knowledge...was she really just going to throw it all away to living an immortal life, forever sending dreams to children she didn't even know? If I was in that situation, I would easily choose to follow what I've started, not something new that was meaningless to me. But hey, I can't talk. For most of my life I've been giving nightmares to the entire world and spreading fear like it was a plague. I'm just getting used to this human life once more.

Alice regained her health slowly, thank the stars. I guess once the stress slowly disappeared and that she knew that Sadie was okay, it helped her bring back the rosy health that she once possessed. I hated seeing her so sick and frail, so knowing that she was up and about was relieving to say the least.

Nonetheless, once she got better she was back to working and helping me understand things a human adult should know.

"I feel like I should go to college."

Alice looked up at me, the rim of her coffee mug just centimeters away from her mouth.

"What?" she asked.

I sighed and closed the book I was reading and leaned against the table, "I said I think I should go to college. That's what helps people get better jobs, right?"

Alice put down her mug, her eyes not leaving mine. She looked thoroughly shocked. We both could hear Sadie's laughter outside along with the jingling of Sandy's as they flew around above the roof of the house.

"You...you want a job?"

"Yes. You can't be the only one trying to pay off this house. Heck, this isn't even a house anymore." I gestured to the living room, "Alice, it's becoming small. It was fine for a family of two but...I don't know, have you ever thought of moving elsewhere with a better pay and a better view than the forest and the backroad?"

Alice made that slight agreement face with the small shrug, knowing I had a point. I knew she was slowly liking the house less and less and wanted something bigger, something with a really big backyard. She smiled at the look I was giving her and touched my hand with hers.

"Pitch, you're absolutely right. I've thought about it all the time. But with the paycheck I earn along with bills and Sadie's education, I don't really have much of a choice except to stay here until it's all over."

I looked down at her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers, "Okay. Well, if you could have the option of moving somewhere else, you know, with no maximum price limit, what would it be?"

She laughed at that, her eyes shining with a dream I haven't seen until now. She withdrew her hand and leaned against her chair, holding her mug in both hands.

"Hmm...probably somewhere in the countryside, just miles away from the city where I would work. Something close to endless green valleys and a river, with the view of both the sunset and the sunrise. Like a horse ranch or something. You and I could take care of a couple of horses and have a few dogs that Sadie would look after. The house size doesn't matter to me as long as it has a shaded porch with a patio swing or a hammock."

My smile soon matched hers when she looked back at me. "You see me in your future?"

Alice brightly blushed and bit her lip with a grin, "Maybe. It's just a happy thought," her smile fell along with her blush, "Are….are you serious you want to go to college to get a job?"

I nodded, trying to look serious about my decision. I was, but after listening to her dream home I couldn't help but keep on smiling. She sighed and put down her coffee cup.

"It's really expensive, Pitch, we don't have that kind of money."

"But I do," I pressed, "North and everyone else owed me a favor. I can manage four years of that."

Alice pressed her lips together in thought before glancing back at me, "What would you want to go into? You know, for a job?"

Damn. She got me there. I honestly had no clue. I remember many, many decades ago I saw my first college campus and lurked around in the shadows during a few of the lectures. I remember liking it, but can't recalling what I found most intriguing. I want to be in charge of something, of course. Have control over things so I can finally feel that authority. But I also love to tap into the inner workings of humanity, see their flaws and emotions unravel-

"Psychology?" It sounded more like a guess for myself than an actual answer from me.

Her brow rose in doubt, "You...as a psychologist?"

Uh oh. I don't like the look on that face I usually like. I shrugged and nodded, "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

She continued to stare at me like that for a while, and for a second I thought she was going to completely be against it until she broke out into a wild and excited grin, "Well I like it! It actually kind of suits you. So! When will you start?" she leaned against the table with a new amount of eagerness.

Wow. That was actually kind of easy. Maybe she just wanted to be sure that this was my choice? Still, I was all for her excitement.

"Well, I haven't exactly acted upon it just yet. I'm thinking of doing that um...you know, later."

Alice nodded, "Yeah, especially because now is sort of busy with Sadie's newfound spirithood and you're still getting the hang of being human. I get that," she looked up at me with seriousness in her dark eyes, "I just want to be clear with something, okay?"

I nodded slowly, gesturing for her to continue.

She held up one finger, "One, is that this money you'll be spending on for college can't come from us, because we don't have it. This is all from North and the other Guardians, right?"

"Correct."

"Okay," she nodded before sticking up a second finger, "Two, the college can't be too far away. If anything happens I want you closeby for safety's sake. Like if the house burst into flames or Sadie's in trouble."

I grinned and bowed my head, "Exactly what was planned."

Alice's face went from serious to bashful in a matter of seconds, a smile on her face. "Oh. Heh, sorry. I didn't know how long you've been planning this. It is kind of unexpected."

Unexpected...that reminds me, I needed help with planning on Alice's proposal. I honestly didn't know how to do it without thinking I was going to screw something up. Sadie's good with the ideas for creativity, but I should really ask someone who's done it, someone who is actually married or engaged that I knew could help me.

Wait a minute. Alice's friends Emma and Tom. They're married, and Tom and I are technically friends. He could help me!

I can't make this obvious though. The week is almost over, since today is Wednesday, and not only will Sadie's decision to either stay as a spirit or leave as a human will be made but I want all the preparation decided by then. Tom would be a huge help if he's available. I can't afford Alice to get suspicious. She's a very smart and clever woman and if anything, she knew when I lied. Which was rare, I admit it, but she's that tuned in and bright.

I had to be cautious…

"Alice, is Tom around this week? Say today or tomorrow?"

Crap, there's that surprised look on her face. Here comes the 'why.'

"Yeah, why?"

I shrugged, "He invited me to his place for a game and some food. Is that what men usually do?"

Alice giggled at that and nodded, "Yeah, that's Tom for you. He rarely invites guys over and when he does it means he's considering you a friend. I suggest you take him up on the offer! You might have fun. Besides," she winked as she got up, "His homemade buffalo wings are to die for."

Damn, I hated lying to her. Well, it wasn't really a lie, it was more of a white lie. He did invite me over, but I hated using that as an excuse to leave the house to plan a proposal. It just felt like I was lying to her, like I was sneaking around.

Tom was the first human friend I made...this is going to be interesting.

"Seriously? You wanted to ask me for help?" Tom looked genuinely shocked, flattered even.

I slowly nodded, not entirely liking his reaction, "Y-Yes? I mean, you and Emma have such a happy marriage, I thought you would know-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tom rested a hand on my shoulder, making me sit back down at the kitchen table, "Koz, you need to understand something first. It's not the proposal that got us here, that was just a stepping stone. It's years and years of trust, a whole bunch of stuff. Believe me, it took me a while to finally want to get here. Using us as an example won't help you."

I must've sulked or something similar to the action, because he sympathetically grinned and slapped my back, "Hey. At least you're acting on it. You know you want to spend the rest of your life with her, right?"

"Yes."

Tom beamed again, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, "Good. You're ahead of half the male population. What's your plan?"

I raised a brow, "Plan?"

Tom rolled his wrist in the air, as if wanting for me to continue, "You know, a plan. You can't just go on one knee and ask. If the girl is extremely special to you for you to propose you've got to make it memorable."

I opened my mouth before closing it again. Quite honestly….that was my plan. Just get down on one knee and ask for her hand in marriage. But by Tom's face I assume that's...out of the question? I glanced over at the nearby painted wall, just noticing the wedding photos over the fireplace. Emma was scooped up in Tom's arms laughing at the sky with Tom beaming at her despite being in ankle deep seawater. The picture next to it was their hands forming a heart with their son's baby hand in between.

"That was basically the plan." my voice sounded disappointed. I guess I was, a little bit.

Tom nodded at that, "Okay, so you're just wanting something simple, right? Knowing Alice she wouldn't want a big, thoroughly planned proposal. Emma said Alice doesn't like surprises like that, where they go full on out."

"Huh...then what do I do? I want her to feel special when I ask her...let her know she's...the center of my world."

Tom grinned at that again, and this time of being a cheeky one he looked elated. He looked like he was excited for what was to happen, just by hearing those words come from my mouth.

"I know just how to help you," Tom rested a hand on my shoulder again, "But you've got to believe me when I say this. It all is up to you on how to deliver it."

"So what's the first thing I do?" I ask, smirking at him.

I had just the idea, the perfect one, something Alice will not forget. I remembered how much Alice loved swimming at the quarry. At night I remembered seeing it for the first time, how the water literally glowed a vibrant turquoise and the stars looked so bold against the blackness of the sky. She'd love that...It's right on the beach, too. Tom didn't know how I knew of this quarry but thanks to my lucky stars-if I had any to begin with-he didn't ask any more questions. He did go on to say that the most daunting task is trying to find out Alice's ring size without her knowing. He said that when he tried to figure out Emma's, she almost figured out what he was going to do. Almost. But I knew Alice wouldn't...hopefully.

You know, she's pretty smart. She'd probably figure it out if she caught me rummaging around her jewelry box.

Sure enough I came home two hours later, and Alice was sitting at the kitchen table eating a green apple hungrily as she stared at whatever was on her screen. When I stepped through the doorway she looked up, smiling a bit, "How was it?"

I slowly nodded, putting my jacket on the hanger. "He's not that bad. I think he's alright. Very excitable."

"Told ya," Alice bit into the apple again, clicking something on her computer, "The office called me in and I have to go around dinnertime. It got busier than usual. Can you keep an eye on Sadie for me while I'm gone?"

I smirked at her, "Gee, I don't know. What will it cost me?"

She grinned humorously, "An arm and a leg, pretty boy."

I kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "I'd give you more than that."

"Like your heart?" Alice's eyes looked purely happy.

I shrugged, slyly glancing down at her. Her smile fell into a blush. She knew what that smile of mine meant. "That, probably along with my-"

"You know I can hear you guys, right?!" shouted Sadie from her room, "Keep it freaking PG in there!"

Alice laughed, keeling over as I chuckled and headed over to her room before she could notice I was in there. That movie on her computer will keep her busy for me to have enough time to find some sort of ring that fits her.

I made a beeline over to her dresser, flipping open the top of a carved box to see a circular mirror, a few necklaces and nothing else besides that, a lace kerchief and charms. Shit. What next? I know she has them, at least one. I glanced around her room, knowing I was timed on this. If I wasn't swift she'll catch me and ask questions, and I don't know what I'd respond with. She knows how to get the truth out of me.

Sure enough on her nightstand table was some sort of hand statue, covered in faded white cloth with rings on each finger.

"Yes," I grinned and plucked a silver, woven ring on the fourth finger and shoved it into my pocket.

Thank God that was there, otherwise-

"What are you doing?"

Fuck!

I whirled around and pointed at the hand statue, "Where did you get that? I don't remember you having it."

Yep. There it was. The skeptical eye. "Sadie gave it to me. Remember? For my birthday?"

"Ooh!" I nodded, glancing at it again, "It's nice. Kind of a neat idea. I never saw one of those before. It startled me for a second."

Alice giggled and looked at it, "Yeah, it can be. I haven't used it yet though. I've been busy with work I haven't taken Sadie's off and put mine on to use it."

...What. Those were Sadie's?

"Oh, so they're...they're Sadie's. Huh. Uhm...where do you keep yours then?" I asked, asking like I was that interested in it. Honestly, it was quite boring talk.

She pointed to the drawer below it. "In there. Not much, but at least Sadie won't know so she doesn't steal mine again. Why?" she looked at me again.

...What am I supposed to say to that?

"Well, it just seemed unfair that Sadie's technically still using hers. Do you want me to help you with it?"

Bingo. Nice job, Pitch. Perfect score.

She rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb towards the hallway, "Get out, Pitch. You look sneaky."

I raised my hands in defense, my brows up as if I'm slightly offended. Once I was back in the hallway and she made her way to Sadie's room, I dashed back in and ripped open the drawer. Immediately grabbing a silver band, I ran back out and pocketed the band inside my jeans, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred at all.

This is going to be one tricky time, one for planning a proposal...and knowing I wasn't the only one worried about Sadie's choice in being a spirit or human…