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imaginationintowords · 4 years

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Folklore [song series]

cardigan

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word Count: 11672

Warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, underage drinking

[a/n: sorry it took me awhile to get this part out. But to make up for it this one is a long one! Sorry if it’s a little confusing, I know there’s a lot to it, so I hope it’s easy to follow. Also if you would like to be tagged, just let me know]

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Age: 19 Year: 2013 Location(s): Stanford, CA & Brooklyn, NY Elizabeth was spending her Friday afternoon packing up the last bit of her things that would be shipped back to Brooklyn tomorrow. She planned it so that if they were shipped tomorrow, they would arrive back home two days after she got there. Enough time for her to unpack the stuff she was taking with her on her flight in a couple of days. Elizabeth had successfully completed her first year of college at the University of Stanford. It was the best year of her life. "Hey Liz!" Her roommate, Wanda greeted her. Last summer, Elizabeth received an email from the school telling her who her dorm mate would be, along with the girl's email address. Wanda Maximoff was originally from Sokovia, but she and her family moved to Boston when she was 8 years-old. Both girls instantly clicked. That summer they were constantly in communication with each other. They both went over their excitement and fears of moving across the country. Wanda, like Elizabeth, had never been away from her family for so long, especially her twin brother. They both eased each other's minds, knowing they weren't alone in this journey. Up until her senior year Elizabeth had every intention of not being alone going into college, but in the end that wasn't the case. Steve ended up going to Berkley, and Bucky ended up at NYU. When they finally both moved into their dorm, it was like they had been life long friends. Wanda was pre-med while Elizabeth was pre-law, so they both knew that one another would take priority in their education over partying. Didn't mean they didn't go out to the occasional party, they both just knew the sacrifices their families were making for them to be at an out of state university. "Hey Wand, what's up?" Elizabeth smiled, while continuing to pack. "Are you going to the party at Loki's house?" Loki Odinson was a junior. He was a legacy student, both his parents were Stanford University alumni. They had a house that was only 15 minutes away from campus, Loki and his friends lived there during the semester, before they all fled back to Los Angeles for the summer.

Even though he was rich beyond means, he wasn't a jerk. He was friendly to everyone around him. Everyone wanted to be his friend, and he wouldn't say no to that. When Elizabeth first met him she thought he was flirting with her, and she kind of welcomed the idea of dating someone like him. But she later found out that Loki wasn't into her, or any other females for that matter. He had a long term boyfriend who was going to USC, they took turns visiting each other every weekend. Normally the weekends Loki wasn't having a party were the ones his boyfriend was visiting. Loki was also a law student, so he helped Elizabeth whenever she needed it. He hosted a weekly meeting in the library for freshman students who were law students, it was a way to help them navigate their first year and the stressors that came with it. He was like their big brother. Elizabeth owes a lot to him this year, because she wasn't sure how she would've made it alive without him. "Yeah, I was planning on it," Elizabeth said taping up the final box for the night, "Last party of the school year. Did you want to go together?" "Yes, please," Wanda said, throwing herself onto her bed. Wanda's side of the room was semi-packed up. Her family was flying in the day Elizabeth was flying out. They were renting a RV and taking a road trip across country. Wanda leaned on her elbow facing Elizabeth, and looking around the room, "Wow, you're almost done packing!" "Yup," she said, getting off of the floor and pressing the palms of her hands to her back to let out the cracks from sitting on the floor for a long period of time, "Movers are picking up my things tomorrow to ship back home. The last things I need to pack our the rest of my clothes I have left, but those are all going in my suitcase to take on the flight with me." "Can't wait til the fall where we don't have to be stuck in these dorms," Wanda stretched out on her tiny bed. Wanda and Elizabeth were planning on getting an apartment next semester at one of the student housing apartment complexes next to the campus. As much as they enjoyed the dorms, having their own privacy would be so much better. Without the constant interruptions from other people on their floor, or from having to share a bathroom with the whole floor. It will be nice to have their own space. They both took on little jobs on campus during the school year, and had planned to also work the entire summer to save up some money. Their parents had agreed to help with the rent, as long as both Wanda and Elizabeth kept up a 3.7 GPA and had jobs to pay for the necessities they would be needing. It was a great deal that they couldn't pass on. "What are you going to wear tonight?" Elizabeth asked Wanda, as she stood in front of her small closet, which now was only half filled. "My lucky red dress," Wanda smiled, "Rumor has it Loki's older brother Thor will be there tonight." Thor was Loki's older brother. He was a senior at Berkley, which was only about an hour drive away. Thor was an Environmental studies major, who was also the captain of the Cal Bears Field Hockey team. He was the complete opposite of Loki when it came to their looks, and taste in genders. He was a bit taller than Loki, had a ton more muscles, long blonde hair, and the times Elizabeth and Wanda had seen him, he had a full grown beard. He looked very intimidating at first glance, but he was actually just a giant bear. Like Loki, he just wanted to be everyone's friend, and just wanted to make sure everyone around him was having a good time. They were clearly both raised by the same parents. Elizabeth laughed out loud, "Wanda, please tell me you're not planning on trying to hook up with him tonight." "Duh, hence my lucky red dress," Wanda got out of bed and grabbed the red dress hanging from her closet, "This dress is magic, okay. It hasn't failed me yet." Wanda's red dress became her "lucky red dress" after she aced her first exam, and hooked up with a cute sophomore she had been eyeing, all on the same day. Whenever she needed luck on her side, she wore the dress. During finals she wore it the entire week, washing it in between each day, they wouldn't be getting their results back for a few more days, but Wanda knew she had done well. Elizabeth didn't bother to try and belittle the lucky dress, because even she might have worn it a few times and had gotten good results. "Plus, seeing as Thor is graduating next week it might be the last time I see him, so go big or go home," Wanda smiled proudly.

_______________________

A few hours later Wanda and Elizabeth found themselves walking up to Loki's house. At night the house might've reminded those in passing of a fraternity house, but in the daylight it was completely not. The yard was always perfectly manicured. The exterior reminded Elizabeth of a house in the Hamptons, while the interior was something straight out of a interior design magazine. It was definitely not a house made for college aged boys.

Wanda was dressed in her lucky red dress, with a pair of black booties, and a leather jacket. Her hair was in loose curls falling down her back. She kept her makeup light, aside from the dark red lip she had on.

Elizabeth was a bit more casual with some ripped at the knee black jeans, a loose grey t-shirt, and a suede burgundy moto jacket. She had straightened her curls that night, but since the weather was getting warmer she put it up in a messy ponytail. Her makeup was a very bare minimum, just some mascara and a nudish pink lipstick that practically matched her lips. She didn't come tonight for a hookup, she just came to spend time with these new friends she made before she headed back home for the summer.

As soon as they walked into the crowded house, they immediately headed to the bar area to grab something to drink.

"Do you see Thor?" Wanda asked Elizabeth as they received their drinks from the bar tender, who Loki paid for the night a lot to overlook the underage drinking.

"No," Elizabeth said speaking a little louder because of the music, "If he were here, I'm sure we would spot him right away. Man is built like a god."

"Damn right he is," Wanda smirked taking a sip from her drink.

Elizabeth let out a laugh at her friend's comment, before going back to scanning the room.

"Let's go out back," she shouted, grabbing Wanda's hand.

They weaved through the loud crowded makeshift dance floor that was the living room.

Once outside they could hear the cheering sounds of a game of beer pong going on.

"Hey girls!" They turned their heads to find Loki walking up to them.

"Hey Loki, no Scott this weekend?" Elizabeth asked, noticing he was sans his boyfriend.

"No, he had to study for finals, he's coming up next week for Thor's graduation though," he says, hugging both girls.

"Speaking of which, where is that brother of your's?" Wanda tried to nonchalantly ask.

"I see you're wearing your lucky red dress," Loki remarks ignoring her question, he had a smirk on his face, knowing exactly what Wanda was up to.

"Oh, am I, I didn't even realize it," she played along, sending him a wink.

"He'll be he-" Loki was immediately cut off by a loud booming voice making it's way through the house and towards the back, "Mention and he shall appear."

The girls peered over their shoulder to see Thor walking in with a group of guys following him. Some of them Elizabeth recognized as his friends from Berkeley.

"Brother," Thor shouts, rushing his way towards Loki, throwing his arms around his younger brother in a bone crushing hug. You'd think they haven't seen each other in months, but they actually saw each other a couple a times a week for dinner.

Elizabeth found it cute the way they were really close. She never had any siblings, she always wanted some but her parents had only wanted one kid. She knew if she had a sibling she would want the same relationship Thor and Loki had.

"Ladies," Thor greets Wanda and Elizabeth, as he finally releases his brother.

"Hi," Elizabeth waved.

"Wanda, nice dress," Thor said throwing his arm over the small red head.

"Oh this old thing," she smiled, as he lead her towards the beer pong table.

"That damn dress," Loki laughed.

"It's lucky for a reason," Elizabeth laughed shaking her head.

"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth turned around thinking she heard her name called but she shrugged it off thinking it was just Wanda from up ahead.

"Elizabeth? Betty?" At the mention of her old nickname she froze, and instantly turned back around to come into eye contact with none other Steve Rogers.

"Steve!?" She exclaimed, completely taken back by seeing him here in the flesh.

He looked a bit different. He definitely had bulked up since the last time she saw him at their high school graduation.

"Oh my gosh, it is you," he shakes his head in disbelief before hugging her.

"Woah, you're huge," she remarked wrapping her hands around him.

"Berkley has a nice student gym," he remarks as they pull apart from each other, still taking each other in.

It felt like they were both looking at strangers. Yes, they still basically looked the same, but there was something different about both of them. Something more mature. Here are two young adults who had spent their childhood and teenage years together, looking at each other in complete amazement.

They hadn't spend much of senior year together. After giving Bucky his letter, Elizabeth had went over to Steve's to apologize in person. He welcomed her with open arms, but there was still something a bit off. What happened between their little group had changed them forever. Their friendship would never be the same again. And maybe that was for the better, Elizabeth had thought at the time.

Now as they stand in front of each other taking it all in, they hadn't realized how much they had missed each other. Missed home.

Loki clears his throat behind them, signaling he was still there.

"Oh, Loki," Elizabeth glanced behind, "this is Steve, we grew up together. Steve this is Loki."

"Hey," Steve reached his hand over for Loki to take, "Thor has told many stories about you."

"God, of course he has," Loki took his hand and rolled his eyes, "I'm sure they were all at my expense."

Elizabeth caught Loki subtly checking Steve out, causing a small blush to form on her cheeks. Guess she wasn't the only one taken by his new stature.

"They weren't all bad," Steve laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll leave you two to catch up, I have a red dress to see in action," he says before walking away.

"Red dress?" Steve asked confused.

"It's nothing," she shook her head, realizing the amount of inside jokes she's made that no longer include him.

"So how have you been?" She asks him, as she leads him to a secluded part of the backyard where the music wasn't so loud.

"Good," he smiles one of his famous bright smiles, "Just been busy. You know freshman year not as easy as I had thought it would be."

"You're telling me," she laughs, "I'm glad I encountered Loki because he's been a massive help."

"Are you guys..." he starts to imply.

"Oh no," she quickly interrupts, "Let's just say Loki would be way more into you than me."

"Ah I get the picture," he lets out a loud laugh.

They didn't realize how much time had gone by, before Loki comes running up to them.

"IT WORKED!" He yelled, slightly slurring his words, "That damn red dress is fucking magic."

"Of course it is," Elizabeth smiled, watching Loki shake his head and make his way back to the party.

"What is this red dress?"

"My roommate Wanda, she has this red dress, and it's sorta became a lucky red dress throughout the year. It's magical," she says, but then something comes over herself, causing her to correct herself.

"It's nothing. It's just silliness. I'm sure it's not really magic," she shakes her head, and the idea of still believing in magic.

"Hey, don't do that," he places his hand softly on top of hers that was laid in between them on the bench they were sat at, "If you say it's magic, I believe it. There's nothing wrong with having a little magic in your life. Lord knows I believe, reason I won't use any other pencil when taking my final."

"Ahh Steve Rogers has a lucky pencil?" She playfully mocks.

"Steve Rogers has more than one lucky pencil," he laughs, "I have one for my written finals, and one I use for my drawings."

"Ah your drawings," she beamed, "They were always my favorite. I was so happy for you when I heard you decided to pursue something that allows you to still put your powers into use."

"My powers?" He asked, with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, your drawings were always so powerful," She beamed at him, "You knew how to bring whatever you were drawing to life. Your Brooklyn bridge drawing is still hands down one of my favorites."

"And between us," she lowers her voice, causing both of them to move their heads closer to each other, "It's my lucky totem."

"What? You still have it?" He quietly asked in disbelief.

The drawing was years old. He had drawn it one day during homeroom when they were 14, he didn't like how it came out but Elizabeth wouldn't let him toss it. She ended up taking it from him, to make sure he didn't throw it away. She had told him that one day he's going to want to look back on it and see how far he's come, even though she was positive he couldn't possibly get any better than he already was.

"I always keep it folded up in my pocket when I take a test," she confesses, "Have been since that day four years ago. It's my lucky drawing."

Steve stared at Elizabeth in awe. He didn't know what to say, he had just assumed she had lost it. But hearing that it was her lucky charm made his heartbeat quicken. For the first time in his life he wasn't seeing little innocent Betty, he was seeing Elizabeth. A beautiful, confident, mature young woman. She really blossomed here in college. He had never seen her so happy, so at peace. She was absolutely glowing.

He could feel his hands getting clammy, and his throat getting dry. He caught himself glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. He tried to swallow the lump down his throat.

"Liz!" He heard someone yell in the background, causing both of them to snap out of their gaze.

They looked over to find Loki, once again. Slightly more drunk than last time.

"She's fucking my brother!" He exclaims in horror, "In my fucking room!"

Elizabeth laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"I better go make sure Loki doesn't drink himself from the horror of it all," she tells Steve, as they both get up.

"Wouldn't want that happening," he says, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"No, I'm going to need him next year," she smiles before walking away.

Elizabeth stopped and turned around, "Hey Steve, when are you flying back home?"

"Sunday morning at 8am, you?"

"Same. Where you flying from?"

"San Francisco International," he tells her.

"Well look at that, we're on the same flight home. Guess I'll see you Sunday morning," she smiled waving good bye.

"See you Sunday," he waved back, a big grin on his face.

After she was gone, Steve was left alone to his thoughts. His mind was racing with so many different thoughts. Was he really thinking about kissing Elizabeth? Bucky's Elizabeth. I mean she technically wasn't Bucky's Elizabeth anymore, but still as Bucky's best friend he shouldn't be having those thoughts of kissing his ex-girlfriend and first love. Hell Bucky was still in love with Elizabeth.

After Bucky had received that letter from Elizabeth, it kind of gave him hope for the future. He had told Steve that he wasn't going to give up on them getting back together. Steve was finding himself hoping that maybe Bucky had moved on from that idea. Maybe being at college has matured him the way it did for him and Elizabeth.

He glanced back at the house to catch Elizabeth pulling a shot away from a drunk Loki, as she tried to make sure he wouldn't cause any harm to himself.

Bucky was an idiot for screwing that up, he found himself thinking.

___________________

Elizabeth spent Saturday finishing up any last minute packing, before the movers arrived to pick up what was being shipped back. She also spent the afternoon hearing all about Wanda's wild night with Thor. Apparently Thor had such a great time he even invited her to his graduation, and she gladly accepted. Elizabeth smiled as her friend continued to talk about Thor, she noticed the way Wanda's eyes lit up. Her friend was falling in love and she didn't even notice.

She and Wanda had a final dinner that night. They had planned on meeting up later in the summer, to discuss apartment details, and see where each other grew up from.

Elizabeth was finding herself wishing for Sundays approach. Not because she was ready to go home, but she wanted to talk more with Steve. When Wanda asked what happened between them Saturday night, Elizabeth told her the truth. Nothing happened. It was simply just two old friends catching up. Wanda didn't believe her, but dropped the subject.

Steve really had grown up since last year. And not just his physical attributes. Elizabeth found herself loving hearing Steve talk all about what was going on with school. And especially when he talked about architecture. He even pointed out things that he would do to make Loki's house a lot nicer. She had never seen Steve so animated before. It really had her thinking if she even truly knew Steve.

They had spent most of their whole lives together, but when she thought back on it, it was never really just them two. It was always her, Bucky, and Steve. And when Bucky wasn't around it was in student council with other classmates around. She and Steve probably hadn't spent time together since they were children. Last night was the first time where they actually had a long conversation, with just them two. A real conversation about their dreams, and not the silly kind you have when you're seven, but the kind where you're actually making them come true.

It also had her thinking back to the moment when she revealed about keeping Steve's drawing of the Brooklyn bridge. It was such an intimate moment when she thinks back to it. While in the moment she was so drawn to him, like a magnet pulling them towards each other. Elizabeth would be lying if she said she didn't find Steve attractive, because anyone with eyes could see that. And she definitely would be lying if she said she hadn't wanted to kiss him.

Because Elizabeth Sanchez really wanted to kiss Steve Rogers last night.

What a mess that would've made. Kissing her ex-boyfriend's best friend. Her former best friend.

But then again, she and Bucky weren't together. They hadn't even talked since she left, and that conversation was a brief one. Bucky had stopped by to say bye and to let Elizabeth know he really appreciated the letter he sent her earlier in the year, and Elizabeth just explained she didn't want any negative feelings following her to college. She wished him well, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before she left.

Wanda walked into their room cutting Elizabeth's thoughts short.

"Ready?" Wanda asked, "Loki is waiting for us downstairs."

"Yup, let's go," Elizabeth said, she grabbed her carry on bag, one suitcase, while Wanda helped with the other one.

"Here we are," Loki says pulling in front of the drop off area at the airport.

"Thanks for the ride and everything this year," Elizabeth leaned over to give Loki a hug over the center console.

"Anytime kid, just make sure you come back to me," he winked, before getting out of the car to grab Elizabeth's bags from the trunk.

Elizabeth and Wanda hugged each other tightly once out of the car.

"It's not an official goodbye, we'll see each other sooner than we think," Elizabeth said into Wanda's hair.

"I know, I just got so used to having you around, what if I do something stupid?"

"I mean lets be real, you would do something stupid whether I'm there or not," she laughed.

"That's true," Wanda laughed along, pulling away from Elizabeth, "see you in a few weeks."

Elizabeth grabbed her things from Loki, and gave the group one final hug, "Love you guys," she said before walking away.

She turned around and gave them one final wave as they drove off.

Elizabeth checked in her bags and headed for her terminal.

Walking up to where her gate was she noticed a familiar blonde head waiting patiently.

"Hey stranger," she walked up to him.

"Hey," he smiled brightly, causing butterflies to flutter in Elizabeth's stomach.

She tried her hardest to ignore the feeling.

"I got you a coffee, it's still hot, I just got here not too long ago," Steve rambled, handing her a Starbucks cup.

"Ah you're a lifesaver, thank you," she smiled sitting down next to Steve, and taking a sip of her coffee.

Just how I like it, she thought.

"Ready to go back home?" He asked her.

"Yes, as much as I loved being here, I miss my bed," she laughed.

"Right," he agreed, "I can't wait to just crash for a few hours."

"I'm sure your mom is getting it all set up for you as we speak."

"Oh, yeah. She just texted me saying she's washing it as we speak," he laughed.

"How is your mom doing?"

"Good. She and dad actually just spent a month traveling around Europe," he tells her, "they finally had an 'empty nest' to do what they've always wanted to do."

"That sounds nice," Elizabeth smiles at the thought, "I hope to have that one day."

"Have you talked to Bucky lately?" Steve asked, taking not only Elizabeth by surprise but himself as well. He had no idea why he even asked that.

"Uh, no, not since I left last summer," she awkwardly said, scratching the back of her neck.

"Have you?" She asked.

Elizabeth didn't know why she asked Steve that question back. Part of her was curious, the other part was saving him from the embarrassment.

"Uh, yeah. Last night," he copied Elizabeth and rubbed the back of his head, "I was reminding him what time my plane landed. He's picking my up from the airport."

"He's been back home for a week now. Perks of going to school in New York."

"Yeah, I bet. No stress about if you're stuff will get lost on it's journey back," she joked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"So Thor told me he invited Wanda to his graduation," Steve changes the subject.

"Yeah! Her parents are flying in the next day, so she's probably going to go," she tell him, "How did you and Thor become friends?"

Elizabeth had been curious how that friendship started since Thor and Steve are not exactly on the same wavelength.

"Met him at the student gym," Steve laughs, "He saw me struggling and offered to help train me."

"As that's cute," she poked his bicep.

"Oh yeah, totally not embarrassing at all," he laughed along, "I was like a newborn deer learning how to walk."

"Well it paid off," she playfully nudged him, causing him to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

Steve and Elizabeth continued to chat for the next hour, until it was time to board the plane. On the plane they wen their separate ways, they weren't so lucky to be seated close to one another.

Once they landed it was nearly five o'clock at night. They walked off the plane separately as well, once again like strangers.

Elizabeth would be lying if she said she wasn't rushing off in hopes of not running into Bucky. She knew she wouldn't be able to avoid him, she just dind't want to see him right here, right now.

She quickly made her way to baggage claim, where she was greeted by a familiar pair of eyes.

"Dad," she smiled throwing her arms around his neck.

"Elizabeth," he hugged his child tightly, "Welcome home sweetie,"

"Happy to be back," she smiled, pulling away. She caught his eye looking at something or someone behind her.

"Woah, is that Steve Rogers?" He asked.

She turned around to see Steve walking towards them, with is own carry on bags in hand.

"Steve," her father greeted him with his hand stood out.

"Mr. Sanchez, hi," Steve smiled shaking the older gentleman's hand.

"College treated you well," her father remarked.

"Dad," Elizabeth hissed, feeling her cheeks heat up at his comment.

"What? It's just an observation. I"m sure I'm not the only one who noticed," he gestured over to where two young girls are ogling Steve and giggling behind their hands.

"Thanks Mr. Sanchez," Steve blushed.

"Do you need a ride home?" Her dad offered.

"No, sir. Thank-you though," Steve politely declines, "Bucky is picking me up."

"Well don't be a stranger," her father waves goodbye as he heads to the conveyor belt to grab Elizabeth's bags.

"Bye," Elizabeth awkwardly waves.

"Wait," Steve stops her, "Maybe we can meet up some time this summer before we all head back to school."

"We as in you and me. Or as in you, me, and James?" She curiously asks.

"Of course, you, me and Bucky," he lies, "if that's alright with you. Not sure how things are still with you both."

"Things are you know, weird, but sure why not," she shrugged, "text me when and where."

They said their final goodbyes before parting ways.

Of course I meant with Bucky, right? He thought.

"Steven Grant Rogers?" He heard someone yell.

"Buck," he smiled, happy to see his best friend.

"Damn man, you got huge since I last saw you over the holidays," Bucky commented embracing Steve in a hug.

"It's not really much," he tried to brush it off.

"Dude you look like you ate the old you," he laughed.

"You just missed Liz," Steve said as he and Bucky walked to his car.

"Liz?" Bucky asked confused.

"Elizabeth. Sorry everyone calls her Liz at school," Steve says as he stops outside of Bucky's parked car.

"You guys hung out over there?" Bucky asks opening the trunk of his car.

"Just once," he says placing his suitcases in the trunk, "Remember that guy Thor I was telling you about?"

"Yeah, your personnel trainer," Bucky recalls walking over to the driver side, as Steve got in the passenger side.

Something in the passenger door pocket catches his eye.

"Well turns out Elizabeth is friends with his brother," Steve cautiously tells Bucky, "Ran into her at his party on Friday and we also were not he same flight back."

"Is she dating the guy?" Bucky begrudgingly asks, as he pulls away from he airport.

"Thor's brother? No," Steve says, unsure if he should even be telling Bucky about Elizabeth's new life, "I don't think she's dating anyone, she went to the party with her roommate."

"Cool," Bucky says pretending as if he isn't happy to hear that.

After a few moments of silence Steve decided to bring up what he saw, "So when did you start wearing red thongs?" He asked, gently pulling out the under by the tips of his fingers.

"Uh, you know college, all about experimenting," Bucky lied.

"Are you still planning on getting back with Elizabeth?" Steve ignored Bucky's answer.

"Steve, I don't need another lecture from you," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"I'm just asking, you're clearly not lonely."

"I'm single, so is Elizabeth," Bucky says, "If she were doing what I was it'd be perfectly fine."

"Buck, all I was doing was asking a question because if you are planning on getting back together with Elizabeth, you'll need to get rid of any incriminating evidence."

"Yes, okay. I plan on at least trying to see if Elizabeth would be willing to give it another try," he confesses.

"How is she?" Bucky asks.

"Happy," Steve answers truthfully, "I don't think I've ever seen her happier. College really did her well."

Bucky glanced over at Steve, noticing the way his best friend said the last part. He chose to ignore it.

The remainder of the car ride was spent on them catching up.

_____________________

Elizabeth spent the first couple of days unpacking her things and getting back into the rhythm of being home. She had to admit to herself that she truly did miss being home, her parents were even more thrilled. An empty home was not something they liked. They were even talking about getting a pet.

As she was putting away her freshly washed clothes, her phone vibrated. She had assumed it was Wanda freaking out over what to wear to Thor's graduation tomorrow night. She was surprised to see Steve's name across her screen.

It was a text:

Hey, if you're not busy tonight my parents are having a small BBQ. It's a last minute thing, so if you're free you're more than welcome to join. It starts at 6 :) She took a second to think it through. She knew if she went, there was no doubt that Bucky would be there. She had managed not to run into him so far, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. They did still live across the street from each other. So she texted back:

Hey Steve. I'm totally free. I'll be there :D

_____________________

Elizabeth took her time getting ready. As the time got closer, the more nervous she got.

Before she left she decided to call Wanda.

"I'm so nervous," she tells her friend.

"Take a shot," Wanda answered quickly.

"Dude, I"m home. My parents are definitely not going to let me 'take a shot'. Did you forget we are legally not supposed to," Elizabeth rolled her eyes looking around for her purse.

"Well are you wearing something hot, to show that idiot what he's missing."

"The last thing I want is to look 'hot'," Elizabeth stressed, "If anything I want to look as un hot as possible. I don't want him or anyone else here looking at me like that."

"Except for Steve," Wanda smirked over the phone.

"Yeah, except for Ste-" Elizabeth stopped, she was taken by surprise at what Wanda said and her own response, "No. Wait. What?"

"Oh come on Liz. I may have been slightly preoccupied by Thor that night, but Steve was definitely giving you the eyes," Wanda says, "And you were as well."

"The eyes?"

"Yeah, heart eyes," Wanda says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "The same way I look at Thor. Or the way Scott and Loki look at each other."

"Wanda, Steve and I weren't looking at each other with heart eyes," Elizabeth denied, "He's one of my longest, closest friends. Plus he's practically Bucky's brother."

"So you thought about it?" Wanda teased.

"I called you to ease my nerves, not make them worse," Elizabeth groaned.

"Sorry," Wanda sincerely apologized, realizing she was being no help to her best friend, "Liz, everything is going to be fine tonight. If anything, all you need to do is be polite to James. Hell, you don't even need to talk to him.

"He's going to want to talk."

"Then keep it cordial, platonic," Wanda reassured her, "You don't have to tell him anything you don't want to. Your life is yours. Not his."

"In the words of Cristina Yang, 'You're the sun. Not him,'" Wanda said quoting one of their favorite shows.

"I'm the sun," Elizabeth repeated, feeling the weight slipping of her shoulders, "Thanks, Wan. I'll call you afterwards."

"Unless you and Steve are getting it on, then you can call me tomorrow."

"Bye," Elizabeth hung up the phone.

____________________

Elizabeth decided to walk the three blocks to the Rogers' household. It was a nice night, and she missed being able to walk everywhere. Something she definitely took for granted once she moved to the west coast.

When she got in front to the Rogers' house, she took one final inhale and exhale, gripping the platter of brownies her mom made as a gift. She the proceeded to walk to the side door, leading to the backyard where everyone was.

She didn't know why she was feeling so nervous. The Rogers weren't strangers. She practically grew up in this house. She knew not just Steve's parents, but his whole family, and they knew her. This would be just like visiting her own family, yet it wasn't. She didn't even really talk to Steve for almost a year.

As soon as she entered the backyard, she couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. She thought she could quickly turn back, no one had even noticed her arrival.

"Oh my gosh," she heard a woman's voice from across the yard, "Is that Elizabeth Sanchez?"

Elizabeth looked over to see Steve's mom, Sarah, rushing over with open arms. She was always so motherly. Elizabeth, welcomed her hug, hugging her back with one hand while the other one still clutched the container of brownies.

"Look at you," Sarah Rogers exclaimed, pulling away but keeping a grasp on Elizabeth's arms, taking her in, "College made such a fine young lady out of you."

Elizabeth couldn't help but to blush, she didn't think she looked that much different. If anything she had gained a few more pounds, and her hair was a bit of a mess, due to the New York humidity.

"Joseph, it's Elizabeth," she called out to her husband who was at the grill with one of Steve's uncles.

"My oh my, well isn't it little Elizabeth Sanchez, all grown up," he proudly smiled, hugging her.

Steve's parents were always so kind to her, like her parents they only had one child. She got the feeling that they saw her as another child, seeing as they were constantly feeding her throughout her youth.

"Your parents didn't come with you?" Joseph asked.

"No, they couldn't make it. They were driving up north to pick up my Grandma. But my mom did send these as an apology," Elizabeth held out the brownies.

"The famous Sanchez brownies," Sarah grabs the container, "Come on in sweetie, make yourself at home."

"Steve, Elizabeth is here," his mother calls into the yard.

Elizabeth looks in the direction his mother yelled into, and spotted Steve, who had a big smile on his face. He wasn't alone, he was with a few people they had went to high school with, and of course in the group was Bucky.

Elizabeth made her way to them all.

"You made it," Steve's smile got bigger, as he went to hug her.

"I told you I would," she said into his shoulder.

"Yeah, well," he pointedly said.

Steve didn't think Elizabeth would really come. He figured since she knew Bucky would be there, she would decide last minute to not go. He was very happy that she decided to not let that stop her. He couldn't help but watch her and she went around the group greeting the familiar faces. Then he felt someone staring at him, and turned to see Bucky watching him watch her.

Steve felt embarrassed when he caught the eyes of Bucky's looking right at him. He quickly played it off.

"Say hi," Steve mouthed to him.

Bucky hesitated for a second glancing back between Steve and Elizabeth. He felt sick. He's been waiting for this moment for awhile, and now all he wanted to do was to run away.

She looked different, the same but different. Steve was right, she seemed genuinely happy. College had brought this new aura to her, she was glowing. Bucky instantly felt guilty for all the pain he's caused her.

He felt a soft nudge to his right side, Steve pointed his head towards the girl that was standing in front of him.

"Uh hi," Bucky nervously said.

"Hi Bucky," she politely smiled.

She called him Bucky. She hadn't called him that since before senior year happened. Steve had mentioned that she had only called him James. He immediately relaxed.

"How have you been?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Good, I've been good," he stumbled over his words, "Yourself?"

"I've been really good," she smiled. This wasn't as bad as Elizabeth thought it's old be.

Before Bucky could respond, they heard a scream. They both turned to see an older Rebecca Barnes running towards them.

Rebecca was now 15 years-old. She came along way from being Bucky's little sister. Elizabeth had always seen Rebecca as the little sister she always wanted. When she and Bucky were dating she would often include Rebecca on their outings. She never wanted Rebecca to feel left out simply because she was the youngest.

After she and Bucky broke up, Elizabeth stopped seeing Rebecca as well. It was just too hard for her. Plus, it took her months to forgive Bucky.

"Rebecca," she laughed, as the young girl threw her arms around the older one.

"You look so good," Rebecca said, pulling away with a giant smile on her face. She no longer had braces, Elizabeth noted.

"Aw thanks, I see those braces finally came off."

"Yeah, just two weeks ago," she smiled even brighter.

Bucky couldn't help but watch the two girls catch up with smiles on their faces.

After they had broken up senior year Rebecca kept asking Bucky went to school in Brooklyn, Rebecca went to a science based school in Queens. She never heard the rumors, but Rebecca was smart and intuitive. When Natasha started coming around more, she put two and two together. She never told Bucky she knew the truth, she figured he was trying to protect her.

"How's California?" Rebecca asked, causing Bucky to tune back into their conversation.

"Amazing," Elizabeth smiled, "Stanford is everything I thought it would be and more. The people there are great as well."

"Any lucky person?"

Leave it to Rebecca to be nosey, Bucky thought.

"Nah," Elizabeth shook her head, "School has been my top priority. Being a pre-law major is a lot of work."

Elizabeth and Rebecca spent some time catching up before Rebecca left to go meet up with some friends in Queens.

"Do you want a drink?" Bucky asks her, holding up an unopened can of soda.

"Thank-you," she grabbed it. She took a look around to see that their group had left and were now mingling with other guests.

It was just her and Bucky in the corner of the yard.

"So," he said shifting on his feet.

"So," she opened the can of soda, causing a loud carbonation sound breaking the awkward silence.

"This is awkward," he nervously laughed.

"Just a little," she agreed.

"Listen-"

"It's all water under the bridge Bucky," Elizabeth interrupted him, "We aren't those people anymore. We're adults now. In college. I meant it when I wrote you that I wanted to move on from all of that. No hard feelings. Think we can do that without mentioning the past?"

"Yeah, I think we're could," he smiled.

"Good," she smiled back, and this time it wasn't a forced one.

"You really do look good," he complimented her, carefully watching her reaction.

"Thank-you," she blushed, looking down at her feet, "So do you. I see you've been following Steve's footsteps about going to the gym."

"Yeah," he blushed, scratching the back of his neck, "It's nothing compared to Steve's. The punk looks like he ate the old Steve. That Thor guy must be one hell of a trainer."

"Oh Thor, he's practically built like a God," Elizabeth giggles, "If you think Steve is big, Thor is a fucking planet."

Bucky laughed along with her.

"So how's school going?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Good actually," Bucky smiled, "I'm going to be taking some summer courses to get a jump start for next year."

"Perks of being so close to campus," she smiled, "Did you have good roommate?"

"Yeah, his name is Sam, he's also in the same Music Technology program as me," Bucky explained, "He's going to be visiting during summer, so hopefully you get a chance to meet him."

Everything was going smoothly throughout the night. Elizabeth found herself having a really great time. She even started to find herself missing Bucky while catching up with him.

She shook off the feeling. It had to be a natural way to feel, she and Bucky had known each other their whole lives, and this was their first time actually talking in over a year.

When the party was starting to dwindle down, Elizabeth felt it was the right time to go home.

"I'm going to get going," she said to Steve, going to hug him goodbye.

"Thanks for coming," he smiled into the hug, "Did you drive here?"

"No, I walked," she informs him, "One thing about the west coast, most things aren't in walking distance."

"Right, I suggested walking somewhere once to my roommate, and he looked at me like I was crazy," Steve laughed.

"Will you be alright walking on your own?" He asked.

"I've done it many times before," she said.

"Hey man, I'm gonna take off," Bucky walks over interrupting their conversation.

"Perfect, Liz was just leaving as well, maybe you can give her a ride," Steve suggested.

"Oh, I actually walked here," Bucky tells him.

"Even better, so did she," Steve smiled proudly.

"You okay with that?" Bucky turns to Elizabeth. He wanted to make sure he wasn't overstepping any invisible boundaries.

"Yeah, I mean we both are heading to practically the same location," she shrugs her shoulders.

Both of them finished saying their goodbyes and began their walk back home. This was the first time they've been alone in way over a year. No party or people to come join in on the conversations. Just Elizabeth and Bucky.

Elizabeth glanced up at the sky, as they walked. Brooklyn was abnormally quiet that night. I was so peaceful, she couldn't help but take it all in.

"I've missed Brooklyn," she says just above a whisper as to not disturb the peacefulness of the night.

"It's missed you," Bucky confesses looking right at her.

Elizabeth was taken back by his response, she glanced to her left to see Bucky staring right at her. She stopped walking. She couldn't pinpoint what she was feeling in that moment.

Bucky panicked, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he apologized.

Elizabeth remained quiet. Trying to process it all. Whatever move she mad will have some sort of lasting affect on both of them.

"If you want to walk ahead I understand," he says, "I'll wait here for five minutes before I begin walking again."

Elizabeth stared into those sad blue eyes. The eyes that always found their way back to her. Maybe this time everything would be different, she thought.

"Elizabeth," Bucky quietly calls, carefully placing his hand on her's. She snapped out of her thoughts, and instantly laced her fingers through his.

"It's all good," she smiled giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, "Let's continue walking."

Bucky couldn't fight the smile growing on his face, as they continued to walk hand in hand.

Once they had reached Elizabeth's house, they stopped outside of the the gated yard.

"So," Bucky said as they stood outside the gate, still holding hands.

"So," Elizabeth smiled, subtly biting her lower lip, "Do you want to come inside for a bit? My parents won't be back until tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth had no idea what came over her to invite Bucky inside. She knew it wasn't a harmless invitation. They both knew what would happen once that front door closed.

"God, I'm going to regret this later," Bucky mumbled, causing Elizabeth to be confused.

"As much as I would love to go inside," he carefully began, "and trust me Elizabeth, there's nothing I would love more. I just have to say no."

"Oh," she said feeling utterly rejected. She wasn't expecting that response.

"Please don't take it as a rejection," he quickly said, grabbing her other hand, "I really want to give us another try. And in order for that to work, I think it's best if we don't rush into it. Because we both know once that door closes, taking our time will go right out the window. And I don't want to screw this up, again.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I never stopped. So please, please know I want to prove to you how much I love you by taking our time. Getting to re-know these new versions of ourselves."

Elizabeth was shocked. Not in a bad way. Bucky has really grown up this past year. Everything he was saying made sense. Yet she still couldn't help but feel sort of disappointed.

"Okay," she smiled, "You're right let's take this slow. Start fresh."

"Thank-you for understanding," he smiled, proud of himself for having some willpower, "Can I take you out tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I would like that."

"Does seven work for you?"

"Seven is good," she nodded her head.

"Perfect, I'll see you at seven," he kissed her cheek before dropping her hands and walking across the street to his own house.

Elizabeth went inside and headed to her own bedroom. She flopped down onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She pulled out red phone and immediately called Wanda, placing the phone on speaker and putting it next to her head on her pillow.

"You're not getting laid," Wanda greeted.

"Hey, I tried," Wanda defended.

"Wait, really?" Wanda sounded surprised, "You tried having sex with Steve?"

"Not with Steve," she hesitated for a second.

"Please don't tell me," Wanda groaned already knowing who she was talking about.

Elizabeth remained silent.

"Did you try to have sex with James?" Wanda asked needing verbal confirmation.

"Yes," Elizabeth admitted, "Everything went great at Steve's. Bucky and I spent most the night catching up and just talking. It made me realize how much I missed him. Also wan't bad that he somehow got better in the last year. We then walked home together, and when we got to my house, I invited him inside."

"Look at you taking initiative!" Wanda cheered.

"Yeah, well I didn't have the lucky red dress to take it all the way."

"What happened?"

"He turned me down," Elizabeth confessed.

"What?" Wanda yelled, "He turned you down!"

"He actually had a good reasoning for turning me down."

"Which was?"

"He wants to take this slow," Elizabeth tells her, "He said he wants us to get reacquainted with each other. Get to know who we are now, as oppose to who we were. He doesn't want to ruin it."

"I mean it does make sense."

"He also might've said he still loves me," Elizabeth quietly said the last part.

"He still loves you?" Wanda gasped.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?" Wanda curiously asks.

"Honestly," Elizabeth pauses, trying to get her thoughts under control, "It made me happy to hear."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes?" Elizabeth said unsure, "Based on the way I felt tonight? Yes I still do."

"Based on before tonight?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I always kept Bucky in the farthest corner of my mind. You know," she says, "He had hurt me so bad that after I forgives him, I just kind of wanted to move on from it all.

"I didn't want to take that kind of energy with me to Stanford. But once I was back, here in Brooklyn, all these feelings kept creeping back. And I don't know if it's cause I'm back home, and it's this familiar type of love. Bucky was always my comfort. He played such a big part of my life. The good, and the bad. How does one forget all that?"

"Is it a bad thing to say that I knew he'd come back to me?" Elizabeth expresses.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone.

"No," Wanda finally spoke, "What you two had isn't something that can be easily erased. But..."

"But?"

"I know you've said you've forgive him for cheating on you," Wanda says, "and I do believe that you have. But do yo think you can actually put that behind you once everything starts back up again. Will you be able to look at him as your partner and not second guess whatever he tells you.

"And I don't meat to be harsh here, but I also think it's important to be realistic about it all. Because when summer ends you'll be back here, at Stanford. While Bucky stays there."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think through everything Wanda has said. She knows what she's saying isn't without reasons. Elizabeth had told Wanda everything that had happened, so of course she was only looking out for Elizabeth.

But the Bucky Elizabeth saw tonight was definitely not the Bucky she had left last fall. And it might be naive of her to think, but she knew him. She knew he wasn't a bad person. Even good people make mistakes. She knew she should have to do this for herself, no matter how many people thought it was a bad idea.

"I don't want him to haunt all of my 'what ifs'," she spoke, "This is something that I have to give another shot. Even after everything he's put me through, I do still love him Wanda. I can't just give up this chance at love."

"Like I said before, this is your life," Wanda says, "You gotta do what's best for you and only you know what that is. And you know I will always be here for you. You're stuck with me for life."

Elizabeth had never felt more relieved, she knew she didn't need Wanda's blessing, but to have it was nice.

___________________

Over the next month, Elizabeth and Bucky had been on many dates. This whole getting to know each other again was going really well. They had also both agreed not to be exclusive. It didn't make sense to rush into putting a label on it.

After the first two weeks they both started to get busy. Bucky was taking three fast track classes during the summer, so he was busty during the week, going from school then back home.

Elizabeth had gotten a summer job at a dental office. She was hired to help with scheduling appointments, and filing paperwork. The job paid more than any usual summer job an almost 19 year-old with hardly no experience could get. She had previously tutored for the doctor who owned it kids. So when she heard Elizabeth was looking for a job, she offered it to her on the spot.

She couldn't complain, yes some days were longer than others, but the money was good and she had the weekends off, which now were the only times she and Bucky were able to see each other.

It was another long day of work, and Elizabeth had spent the day dealing with unruly patients. All she wanted to do was take a bath, have pizza, and crash. But she then remembered she and Bucky had a date planned for that evening. She glanced at the clock on the wall. He would be here in an hour.

As much as she wanted to go out, she really didn't have the energy to. Plush, she didn't really want to see anyone.

She pressed the call icon next to Bucky's name on her phone.

"Hey Liz," he greeted. Bucky and everyone else back home had gotten into the habit of calling her by her new 'grown-up' nickname.

"Please don't be upset," she says.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Is it alright if we reschedule tonight's date," she says, "I just got home from work and I had a long day of dealing with rude people."

"Yeah of course," he tells her, he could hear just how exhausted she was, "Do you want me to bring over some food? We could could always have a night in."

"Thanks Buck, but I really just want to be along for the night," she tells him as she made her way into her room, "Is that okay?"

"Of course," he assured her, "I completely understand. I think Steve has the night off anyways, so think I'll head to his place for the night. Do you want to grab some lunch tomorrow during your lunch break?"

"That sounds perfect," she smiled, "Thanks again Buck."

"No worries. Have a good night."

"You too, tell Steve I said hi," she hung up the phone.

As she went to go put her bag down on her desk, her phone began to ring.

"Hey Wanda," she tiredly greeted her friend.

"Hey, everything okay?" Wanda asked, immediately sensing Elizabeth's mood.

"Just a long day, what's up?" She yawned.

"Just calling to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"You can say no first of all," Wanda clarified, "So I just got off of the phone with Thor and i was telling him about how I will be visiting you next week or the 4th of July, and well he kind of asked if he can come to New York as well."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, not expecting to hear that, "Are you asking for my permission, if your boyfriend can come?"

"Not my boyfriend, yet" Wanda sighs, "But yes. I guess he was also talking to Steve about visiting. He won't need to stay at your place either."

"Wanda, you don't have to ask me," Elizabeth assures her, "If Thor wants to come visit, he's more than welcomed to. I don't mind at all. Plus it'll be nice to see him."

"Oh, thank god," Wanda sighed in relief, "I just didn't want you to think that I don't want to spend time with you, because I do. I just don't want to be one of those girls that sneakily brings her boyfriend on a girl's trip. But don't worry, Thor is going to be doing his own thing with Steve. I am all your's for the weekend.

"Wanda it's okay. I know you aren't one of those girls. If you do become one of them, I'll make sure to save you."

"You're the best Liz," Wanda smiled, "Wait don't you have a date with Bucky tonight?"

"Not anymore, I cancelled," she says, "Too tired, Just want food and sleep."

"Ahh well, I'll let you go, enjoy your food and sleep, and I'll see you next week."

Elizabeth hung up the phone and decided to take advantage of the quiet house and take a bath before her parents got home from work.

As she entered her room, wearing a robe and her hair up in a towel, her phone began to ring.

"So much for a quiet time," she sighed, picking up the phone.

"Hey Steve what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you, I know you've had along day at work, but Bucky just bailed on me, something to do with Rebecca," he tells her, "And I'm outside of his house with a large pizza, and I don't want it to go to waste."

The other line went dead, Steve looked down at his phone to see that Elizabeth had hung up the phone. He hesitated for a second, thinking he should've just went home. As he was about to start his car up again, he heard his name being called. He looked across the street to find Elizabeth standing in her front door, in nothing but a robe.

"It better be a pepperoni pizza," she called out.

He laughed, and got out of his car with the large pizza in hand, "Only the best kind."

She moved out of the way to let him into the house, and lead him into the living room.

"Okay I'm going to head upstairs and put some clothes on," she says, "Make yourself at home, you know where everything is at."

"Sorry again about the drop in," Steve apologized once Elizabeth came back down with a fresh pair of clothes and hair brushed through.

"No worries, sorry Bucky bailed," she said sitting down next to Steve on the couch, "But his loss, is my pizza gain."

They spent the next hour devouring the pizza and watching a movie.

"So I hear Thor is visiting next week," she says, as she places her empty plate inside the empty pizza box, before making herself comfortable on the couch.

"Yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about that," Steve says adjusting himself to face Elizabeth to his right, "Thor's parents have a house in the Hampton's, and they said we could use it for the 4th of July weekend. Not sure if you and Wanda already had plans, but you guys are more than welcome to join us."

"That sounds like a lot of fun. I'm sure Wanda wouldn't mind either," she smiled, "Plus I have never been to the Hamptons."

"Then it's settled, weekend at the Hamptons," Steve smiled, "I believe Loki and Scott will be joining us as well. Bucky is also inviting his roommate Sam, and I was planning on inviting some of the kids we went to school with."

"Sounds like a party."

____________________

Elizabeth and Wanda drove up to East Hampton together. The boys drove up the night before to get everything set up.

"So how are things between you and Bucky?" Wanda asked lowering down the volume.

"Things have been okay," Elizabeth sighed, as she kept her eyes ahead as she drove.

"Just okay?" Wanda asked, "A month ago you couldn't stop talking about him. What changed?"

"We haven't had much time together the last week or so," Elizabeth says, "and he's been cancelling a lot on me this past week."

"Did you say he was taking summer courses?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded.

"Then he's probably just busy," Wanda reassures her, "Now, look at it this way. You'll have four days to catch up. Plus, you'll have the lucky red dress."

"We're taking it slow, remember?"

"It's been a month and a half. Have you guys even kissed?" Wanda playfully joked.

"He wants to take it slow," Elizabeth quietly repeated.

"Wait!" Wanda yelled startling Elizabeth.

"Geez Wan, I'm driving!"

"You guys haven't even kissed yet!"

"He wants to take it slow!" Elizabeth yelled back.

"There's slow and then there's being a fucking nun. Is he a nun?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. It's not for lack of trying," Elizabeth stressed, "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried."

Wanda remained quiet, causing Elizabeth to get an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"Why are you so quiet? You're never this quiet. Ever."

"I'm just thinking," Wanda says.

"Well please do share your thoughts."

"You guys haven't even kissed, does that not worry you?"

"Yes," Elizabeth confessed, "Of course it does."

"Do you think," Wanda pauses, "Now don't freak out when I ask this because we don't want to die, and we also don't know what's going on. But do you think he's seeing someone else?"

"I haven't even thought of that," Elizabeth says.

Wanda glances over and notices the far off look in Elizabeth's eyes.

"You know what, that wasn't a logical explanation," Wanda says trying to bring back her spiraling friend, "I'm sure Bucky is just busy."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed, but not really believing any of it.

____________________________

The girls arrived to the house an hour later, it was barely going to be noon. The rest of their car ride was no longer filled with talks of relationships, but just spent listening to music, and discussing plans for their new apartment. When they pulled up, they were in awe of the beautiful house. There was already two cars in the driveway, one belonging to Steve, and the other must've been Loki's rental. "How much money do those Odinsons have?" Wanda stated looking up at the house. The house was a white modern looking two-story farmhouse. The two car drive way, looked like a mini version of the house. It looked homey. "You're here!" They heard a booming voice yell, as they exited the car. They looked up to the front door to see Thor fast walking his way over to them. He quickly made his way to Wanda and took both girls by surprise by picking her up and kissing her. At least someone's getting kissed, Elizabeth thought smiling at how happy her best friend looked. "Hello to you too," Wanda smiled, once they pulled apart. "I've missed you," he grinned, placing her down gently, "Hi Elizabeth." "Hi Thor, nice to see you," she greeted him, as she opened the trunk of her car to get the bags out. "Here let me get those," he said, grabbing both suitcases from the trunk, "The boys are out back in the pool." Thor showed both girls to their room first before walking them out to the back to greet the rest of the boys. "Lizzy! Wanda!" Loki shouted, running over to both girls and throwing his arms around them both. "Finally some estrogen to balance out all of this testosterone," he whispered in their ears, causing both girls to giggle. Once they pulled apart they were greeted by Loki's boyfriend Scott Lang. "Hi Scott," both girls greeted, hugging him as well. Elizabeth looked past the patio area to the backyard, where the pool was placed in the middle of nothing but grass. A typical Hamptons backyard. She saw Steve, Bucky, and who she assumed to be Bucky's roommate Sam, emerging from the pool. "Hey, you guys made it," Steve smiled. "All in one piece." "Barely," Wanda whispered to Loki. "This is Wanda, my roommate from Stanford," she introduced, "Not sure if you met back then. Wanda this is Steve, and Bucky, and Sam, right?" "Correct," Sam answered extending his arm out to shake their hands, "Sam Wilson, the person who's had to put up with Bucky for almost a year." Elizabeth laughed, "So sorry you've had to deal with that." "Ha ha funny," Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking Wanda's hand. He looked over at Elizabeth about to go in for a hug, but stopping once he realized he was wet from the pool. He gave her a smile, and she returned it. "Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday Steve," Elizabeth announced, "I would hug you but your wet." "Thanks, Liz," he smiled. Elizabeth glanced over at Wanda who was raising her eyebrows teasingly. Elizabeth shook her head. "So what time is everyone arriving?" She asks. "We told everyone two," Loki said, "the catering staff should be hear soon. "Catering?" Wanda asked. "Our parents insisted, seeing as last time Thor tried to have a barbecue he almost burned down the house," Loki explains to them. "He's pretty and smart, he doesn't have to cook," Wanda defended him, "Also helps that he has a big di-" "Okay," Elizabeth clapped her hands interrupting Wanda from finishing that sentence, "We're going to go get ready." "We'll join you," Loki said, with Scott behind him following the girls upstairs to their shared room. "So that's Bucky?" Loki asked, throwing himself onto one of the beds while Scott closed the door behind them. "Yup." "He's hot," Scott stated. "Don't start fawning over him," Wanda raises her hand, "He hasn't even kissed her yet." "What?" Loki and Scott gasped. "Are you going to be telling everyone that?" Elizabeth asked, heading into the en-suite bathroom. "You brought the red dress right?" Scott asked Wanda, already knowing all about her lucky red dress. "Yes, nobody worry," Wanda says pulling out the red dress, "Our dear sweet Lizzy will be getting at least some action tonight. Even if it's the bare minimum."

__________________________

The party was going great, everyone had invited a mixture of friends. Some were from Elizabeth's high school, some of them had grown up with Thor and Loki. It was a good mix of people. And everyone was having a great time.

In the car ride Elizabeth had been nervous after her conversation with Wanda about Bucky, but all those worries went away once she had made her way back down after getting ready.

Bucky hadn't left her side, since then, and he was being more openly affectionate than before. There was still no kiss, but Elizabeth didn't have a doubt in her mind the night wouldn't be ending without one, maybe even a little more.

Thank you lucky red dress.

It was around eight pm when Thor suggested they start doing the fireworks, everyone in the neighborhood had started to as well. So everyone made their way into the front yard, some in chairs, some on the grass, and some just standing around.

Elizabeth was sitting on the lawn, looking up at the lit up sky. She looked to her right to see Steve admiring all the colors, she softly smiled at him and the way he looked so content and happy.

She looked to her left to find the spot Bucky was just at a minute ago empty. She took a quick look around and couldn't see him, she shrugged it off just assuming he was somewhere nearby or in the house. She knew he had difficulties with large crowds and sometimes he just needed to step away.

After twenty minutes, Bucky still wasn't back.

"Hey Steve, I'll be back, I'm going to go check on Bucky," she tells him before heading back into the house.

The house was quiet, since everyone was outside watching the fireworks. She checked the back and all of downstairs but couldn't find Bucky, even the catering crew were outside watching the fireworks.

Elizabeth headed upstairs, thinking Bucky probably went to find peace in his room. Bucky and Sam were sharing a room for the weekend, it was the first one to the right once you reached the top of the stairs.

As soon as Elizabeth reached the final step, the bedroom door opened up. She smiled thinking Bucky was going to walk out, but the smile dropped when she was greeted by not Bucky but Natasha Romanoff walking out.

Natasha hadn't noticed Elizabeth yet, she was smiling at the person walking out right behind her.

Bucky had a huge grin on his face, his hair was a mess and so was Natasha's. His smiled instantly dropped and his eyes widen once he noticed Elizabeth frozen at the top of the stairs.

So much for a lucky dress...

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dustofbrokenheart · 4 years

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The Covenant: Study Habits

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,095

Summary: You are stressing about finals and need to study. When Pogue graciously volunteers to be your study buddy, you don’t refuse the offer.

Silence and solitude, you decided, were your ideal conditions for studying for finals. Spencer Academy was a fairly serious institution given its status as a prep school, but the library and various common areas tended to transform into social scenes, especially during this point in the semester. As much as you enjoyed the chatter and laughs, you really needed to study in order to pass your physics final and make the honor roll.

At first you tried moving your studying to your dorm, which was definitely quieter, but it didn’t exactly give off study vibes either. It was way too easy to take a nap or raid your snack stash or eavesdrop on conversations that were happening in the hallway.

You looked and looked for a good spot and you finally found it in the discovery of the school’s shop classroom. Not many students at Spencer took wood or metal shop that you were aware of and you were a little surprised those classes were offered at all. The room itself was tucked away in a dim basement that shared space with random storage rooms and an unused bomb shelter, a relic leftover from the 1940s.

The day you found it was also the day you found out that the room’s door wasn’t locked by the teacher, which wasn’t good from a security standpoint, but made entering very easy for you whenever you dropped by after hours to study.

Being a shop classroom, it was mostly open space and machinery, not unlike a garage situation. You were extra careful not to disturb any of the projects-in-progress, even though some of them looked really cool, and avoided all of the tools, most of which you couldn’t name much less identify.

But there were a couple of waist high counter tables along one wall so you could sit down. The height was just right where you could alternate between sitting on a stool and standing on your feet which was honestly better for your circulation. Most importantly, it was abandoned at this time of night and that meant no distractions.

The sneaking around continued for a couple of days until your anxiety had had enough, prompting you to find out the teacher’s information so that you could email them and ask formal permission to use the room when school wasn’t in session. Mr. Clarke seemed happy enough to let you use it and you decided you liked him even though you had never met in person.

It wasn’t even until the second week of studying down there that you finally saw someone other than yourself. You had just finished dinner and made the trek from the dorms to the shop room when you noticed them. A radio played softly in the distance but as you got closer and closer to your spot, you figured out that it was coming from the room.

You paused just outside the door and debated whether you should still go in or not; you really needed to get through some practice problems, but would you still be as productive if someone else was in there? You really should do these problems. Besides, maybe the other person would leave soon.

The metal handle clicked as you opened the door.

A small boombox was blaring some Green Day out of its speakers and figure in a black tee sat next to it fiddling with a hand drill.

Wanting to get his attention before the drill started up you cleared your throat loudly.

Beautiful hazel eyes locked onto you immediately and you felt a little breathless. That was before he turned fully around and you were better able to appreciate his toned chest and arms through the black fabric of his shirt, small barely detectable sawdust particles attached themselves to his jeans.

“Hey there,” he greeted with a raised hand.

Of all people to run into you couldn’t believe that it was Pogue Parry, one of, and in your opinion, the student body’s top eye candies. Dazzled, all you managed was a timid wave back.

He cocked his head, his shaggy hair falling slightly to the side. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Come on, Y/N. Get it together and answer the boy.

“Actually, we have—”

“Physics together,” he finished with a smile. “I know. I meant down here in the shop.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. He recognized you! A Son of Ipswich noticed that you were in a class with him and you were so excited that you managed to ignore the fact that you had misunderstood him. “You’re right about that. I’ve only been coming here for, like, a week. I got permission to study here.”

“Cool. Mr. Clarke is a sweetheart so I’m not surprised.”

Trying to get back on track you asked, “How long do you think you’ll be working on that?”

Both of you looked at the drill.

“You probably want it quiet, huh? I can stop for today, this is just a side project I’m doing anyway, it’s gonna be a tv stand when it’s done. Definitely not as important as a final.”

As much as you felt bad for interrupting him and essentially taking over his spot, you took him up on his offer. He was now the hottest and kindest classmate in your mind. You dropped you backpack on the floor and spread your papers across the countertop trying your best to sneak peeks at Pogue where he was cleaning up a few feet away.

When he finished, he walked over. “What class are you studying for?”

“Physics.”

“No way!” He pulled up a stool and straddled it opposite of you.

It made you nervous to have him watch you write and when he pointed out a mistake you made, you felt like crawling into a hole. The eraser left behind eraser shavings as you corrected the error.

“Hey, wanna work together?” he asked either not noticing your embarrassment or choosing to ignore it.

“Sure,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Cool.”

He wasted no time and grabbed his own copy of the packet, clicking open a pen, ready to go.

You moved to the next problem and read it out loud.

“A block weighing 200 N is pushed along a surface. If it takes 80 N to get the block moving and 40 N to keep the block moving at a constant velocity, what are the coefficients of friction μs and μk?”

Pogue hunched over, quickly working it out when he noticed you sitting still, rubbing the end of your pencil against your mouth. Scooching over to your side of the counter he showed you his work and walked you through his steps.

“Wow, you’re really good at this.”

He laughed off the compliment. “Nah, I promise you I’m a pretty stupid student.”

“But you finished this problem in under a minute,” you insisted. “Meanwhile, I would’ve been stuck for hours and still have gotten it wrong.”

He stared at you and even though you couldn’t get a good read on him, it was too easy to get lost in his eyes. Eventually, he spoke.

“I don’t want to throw off your groove of anything, but maybe we can study together.”

Was this a dream? Because an invitation like that only happened in your fantasies.

“But I don’t know how that benefits you—you seem to a good handle on it already,” you admitted.

“As I told you, stupid student. Besides, my study habits are non-existent so maybe some of yours will rub off.”

You beamed at him, easily convinced. “Well then let’s go over the first problem again because I’m still confused...”

Every night for the next seven days Pogue met you in the basement and walked with you to the classroom for your study session. Despite not having a high opinion towards his academic abilities, he was very patient and effective tutor/partner.

“Wait, remember to multiply the variables in the parenthesis before subtracting it from the total. PEMAS is your friend Y/N.”

He was also very easy to talk to. Whenever he talked about his bike or swim regimen, two things you knew nothing about, he took the time to put it into words you understood without making you feel like an idiot. And when you were feeling chatty, he would actively take an interest in what you had to say.

“Hunger pains after a swim workout are the worst, especially after long swims where your aerobic systems are gassed. It feels like you’re one stomach growl away from wasting away.”

“Oh, speaking of food, I found a granola recipe. I don’t know who decide to mix coconut and cranberries with granola, but that palate combination amazing. I’ll bring you some if it turns out alright.”

“You’d better save me some then, even if it’s not to your ridiculously high standards. I can feed some to the boys, too.”

Time flew by and it didn’t feel like the studying had gone on for a whole week. Each session seemed to pass faster as you got to know him better, to see the him that didn’t have to be filtered for the public eye. You liked this side of him even better than what you have seen of him in class and in the halls.

But all things come to an end. On the last session before the final, you guys finally finished the last question in the review packet with a grateful exhale.

“You sir, are a physics godsend. I can’t believe we’re done with the whole review guide.”

“I hope the final isn’t as long as the guide is. He must’ve stuck every problem we did during the semester in this thing,” he complained.

“I really hope not,” you groaned. Because if it was, there was no way you would finished within the allotted one-hour period.

“But, I have a feeling you’re going to crush the exam. Just try your best not the set the curve too high, for the rest of our sakes.”

You playfully shoved him for the last part of his comment. Silence stretched on and you realized that this was the last time you guys were scheduled to study together. Fast on the heels of that thought was another: you didn’t want to leave. By the way he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, you hoped that meant he was reluctant as well.

“So…” he trailed off and you waited with bated breath. “Guess we should pack up, it’s almost nine.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment at his words. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a second, you were tempted to ask him out, or at least see if he wanted to hang out as friends, but you decided against it. He was the type that would’ve spoken up if he were interested. Best just to act dignified and be thankful that he bothered helping you in the first place.

You were steps away from walking out the door when he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“Actually, what I meant to ask is if you want to get a bite to eat after the test tomorrow. Is that weird?”

Your pulse fluttered in obvious joy.

“You mean like a date?” you breathed.

“Yeah. You’re a pretty cool, Y/N, and I’d be sad if this is the last time we hang out.”

“I would love to,” you assured him with a huge smile on your face.

He reached to slowly envelope you in a hug, and even if the angle was a little awkward due to the backpacks being in the way, you automatically hugged back. You were thrilled to discover that he smelled like an exotic mix of leather and, dare you say, magic.

You were even more thrilled when he walked you back to the dorms like the sweet boy you had observed him to be over the past week. Luckily there weren’t any people loitering out in the hallway because if word got out that a Son of Ipswich had walked you to your room, the whole school would know by morning and you were enjoying the moment far too much to have to worry about that.

“Good luck tomorrow. See you on the flip side,” he said in parting.

That night you laid in bed but felt like you were on cloud nine. In less than twenty-four hours, you would be done with physics for the semester and have had a date with Pogue Parry. Pogue Parry! You snuggled into your pillow and swore his scent still lingered freshly in your nose.

_______________

I was super inspired yesterday and wrote this. Good luck to everyone that’s prepping for final exams! Thanks for reading.

#the covenant #pogue parry #pogue parry x reader #imagines

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years

Text

Two broken hearts with matching sides - Chapter 3

Summary: Freed and Laxus were inseparable friends, they always spent their days together ever since they were children, so much so that they were considered indivisible. That’s why everyone was surprised when during the last year of high school, the two boys no longer spoke a word from one day to the next. That’s why everyone was surprised when Freed left for Germany and Laxus knew nothing about it. After three years the two will be forced to see each other again, and for a period to live under the same roof. [Freed/Laxus]

Link: AO3

Here you can find Chapter One, Chapter Two.

An intolerable situation

That had been a shit day, ever since he got out of bed. It had all started since he met Freed in the kitchen. Usually he never met the boy, it seemed that they both calculated their schedules in order to see each other as little as possible. But that morning Laxus had woken up late, and because of that he had had to have breakfast with Freed. It had only been three minutes, but it was more than enough to piss him off.

After that he had arrived late for class, and by mid-morning he had received an email from the office telling him that a wrong exam had been recorded. So, he had to waste half an hour of his time arguing with the old fool from the Student Administration Office, who didn't know how to use a computer.

Fortunately, there was a positive side, in the canteen he had crossed paths with Rufus and that boy had clearly flirted with him. Well, Rufus was a nice guy. Maybe he reminded him a little of Freed, but the biggest difference was that Rufus wasn't an asshole. They hadn’t dated yet, but he was convinced it wouldn't take long. That blond was obviously smitten with him.

And Laxus couldn't wait to date with him, maybe showing it in front of Freed, and showing him what he had lost. And since Freed and Rufus never got along in high school, it would’ve been even more fun. Good heavens, he felt like a teenager girl acting like that. Not that Freed cared about him.

In any case, the day wasn't over yet. No, he had come home and met Freed on the landing in front of the elevator. He too had just entered and the two were in front of the elevator. They didn't even say hello, they stared at each other for a moment and then looked away. Laxus pressed the button to call the elevator. If anyone left, Freed would. He wasn't going to go up the stairs just to avoid the asshole.

He didn't even have to argue anyway, Freed greeted him coldly and then took the stairs without even waiting for an answer from him. Laxus growled softly. Fuck. Rightly the asshole ran away, it was the only thing he could do in his life. The elevator arrived and Laxus got inside, more and more nervous. He couldn't wait for Freed to find another apartment and leave.

Halfway up the climb the lift stopped.

Fuck, as if it isn't already enough, he thought irritably. He pressed the button on his floor again, but nothing, the lift wouldn’t start at all. Irritated, he pressed the alarm, just hoping it wasn't Freed who heard him, but most likely the boy was still on the stairs. Fuck, that day was getting worse and worse.

Fortunately, after a few seconds the elevator started up again and Laxus went out shortly after to his own floor. He’d never take that damn thing again. Freed was standing in front of the open door to the apartment. The two still said nothing and entered the apartment.

“Hello guys!” exclaimed Bickslow sitting on the sofa.

“Hi,” Freed said and then went straight to his room and locked himself inside. Bickslow sighed heavily and turned to him, but Laxus only grunted a greeting. He was still mad at them for setting him up in an apartment with Freed. He knew they had done it with good intentions, but why the hell hadn't they at least talked about it with him before?

Maybe because you refused to do it, said a little voice in his head but he chased it away.

“Do you want to do a movie night tonight?” Bickslow asked “Evergreen makes popcorn, and we choose the movie.”

“I choose the film,” the girl retorted from the kitchen. Laxus hesitated, fearing that Freed was there too. He didn't really want to sit on the same couch with the boy. Bickslow seemed to read his mind because after a while he spoke.

“Freed has to study”.

“Ok then,” Laxus replied, ignoring Bickslow's disappointed expression. At least he had stopped bothering him to be with Freed. “But I choose the film,” he declared.

“Hey, I'm the one making the popcorn here, so I'm going to pick the movie,” Evergreen complained as she appeared at the living room door.

“Since most of the DVDs are mine, I choose,” Laxus retorted and looked over the pile of DVDs, but he quickly noticed that one was missing. “Where is ‘It’?” he asked.

“Oh, Freed and I watched it last night,” Bickslow said. “Maybe we had put it in the drawer,” he said quietly. Laxus opened the drawer slightly nervous.

“It's not there,” he blurted out. He didn't know why, but the idea of Freed touching his things bothered him. Maybe they had once exchanged everything without any problem, but those times were over, and the fault was the asshole. Irritated and without thinking he went to Freed's room, ignoring Bickslow who was hurrying to get up from the sofa saying that maybe he had taken it.

He knew it didn't make sense to get mad for something like that, but he wanted to vent all the frustration he'd built up throughout the day. Besides, any excuse would’ve been a good one to blame Freed.

Laxus knocked violently on the door of the roommate's room three times, then entered without waiting for an answer. Freed was changing his clothes and was wearing only boxers. Laxus paused for just a moment to look at his naked, muscular torso, and for a moment a flash of the past occurred to him.

“What the fuck, are you able to knock before you enter?” Freed growled.

“I knocked,” Laxus retorted.

“Very useless since you walked in before waiting for an answer,” Freed snapped.

“Maybe if you didn't take my things, I wouldn't have to go in like that,” Laxus said roughly.

“What the hell are you talking about,” Freed snapped grabbing his pants.

“It”.

“What?” Freed asked confused.

“It, the movie,” Laxus snapped annoyed and walked into the room approaching Freed's desk. The boy still had a lot of books, and judging by the bookmarks he was still reading two at the same time. He looked at the computer and noticed that the screen was frozen on a Word document full of writing and curious he read a few lines. Did Freed write?

“Get out of here” Freed snapped going in front of him and closing the computer with a dry gesture. The fact that he had only been wearing the pants in the meantime still distracted Laxus a bit. He didn't know if he was more inclined to slam him against the wall to kiss him or to beat him. In any case, it would’ve been satisfactory. “And maybe learn a little education towards your roommates.”

Laxus grinned. “But you’re a great roommate using other people's things,” he commented harshly.

“I thought it was Bicks...”.

“Really?” Laxus interrupted. “Because we both know that's not true. Or do I have to remind you how many times we saw it years ago?” he growled. It was enough to think about how different things were years ago to make him feel a strong melancholy, but he covered it with anger not to show it.

“It’s not in my room anyway,” Freed snapped, raising his tone. “Probably Bickslow has it. Now get out of here,” he ordered dryly. Laxus felt the nervousness rise even more. Why was he thinking about the past, and Freed hadn't even blinked at the memory? Because obviously the asshole never gave a shit about him.

“Don't use my stuff anymore,” he growled as he left the room.

“And you learn to control yourself, three years and you've only gotten worse,” Freed snapped and then slam the door and shut himself inside. Laxus was tempted to open it only to punch him, and blame him for how much Freed had gotten worse. He didn't just do it because Bickslow put a hand on his shoulder.

“I found the DVD. I had it”.

“Good,” Laxus grunted irritably. Soon after he went back to his room.

***

It all seemed normal. Laxus hadn't talked about it, he hadn't talked about it and to tell the truth there hadn't even been embarrassment. Freed didn’t know how to behave, he felt high every time the blonde turned to look at him, and every now and then it seemed to him that Laxus was staring at him more than he should. Maybe he had forgotten the kiss because of alcohol. Or maybe he didn't know how to behave.

But Freed didn't want to talk about it, if Laxus didn't remember and if it was just a drunk impulse, he didn't want to ruin their friendship. Freed turned to the TV. They were at the home of Makarov, Laxus' grandfather. Apparently, the old man had left them alone and the two were deciding what movie to see. He roused himself from his thoughts and forced himself to behave normally as usual.

“Tonight let's watch ‘It’” he decided taking the DVD. Laxus snorted loudly.

“We saw it last time, let's watch ‘Matrix’,” he retorted.

“You're just scared” Freed teased with a smirk but Laxus pushed him aside and took the science fiction DVD. That gesture reassured Freed, if Laxus had no problem touching him, it was just fine. It really all seemed as usual. Maybe the friend really didn't remember anything. Better this way, it would’ve been just a memory of Freed and that was enough.

“I'm not afraid,” Laxus snapped. “But we already saw it last time, it gets boring to see it again. We'll watch ‘Matrix’,” he decided.

“We've already seen that too,” Freed pointed out.

“So?” Laxus asked. Freed pulled the DVD from his hands and the blonde tried to get it back, but Freed stepped back and put it behind his back. Laxus advanced towards him but the boy ran away behind the sofa. “We both know I'll win,” the blond said.

“I don't think so, and then you decided last time,” Freed reminded him. Laxus apparently didn't care much. He walked over to Freed and pinned him against the back of the sofa, reached behind Freed's back to grab the DVD but he held it tight.

“Let go,” the blond told him.

“Absolutely not”.

“You're unbearable,” Laxus growled. Then he grinned dangerously and Freed arched an eyebrow. Against his every surprise, Laxus reached out to his hip and began to move his fingers. Freed immediately began to wriggle but to no avail and laughed at the tickle.

“Stop it, come on, stop it,” he pleaded with laughter. Laxus grinned and didn't listen to him, continuing to move his fingers sadistically. Freed climbed back onto the sofa but Laxus grabbed him by the waist to prevent him from escaping. The DVDs fell from Freed's hands and fell to the ground, but Laxus now wanted his revenge. Freed rolled over on the sofa and Laxus threw himself on top of him, straddled his stomach and lifted his shirt and continued to tickle him.

“Enough,” Freed said with tears in his eyes.

“So, let's watch ‘Matrix’?”

“Okay, but stop the fuck,” Freed said. Satisfied Laxus stopped his fingers and Freed panting looked over him. Oh fuck. Why the hell were they so close. Why had Laxus sat on him? Freed felt his face flush and noticed how Laxus' cheeks were warming too.

Soon after, the blond came down to him, took the DVD and put it in the DVD player. He sat back down next to Freed, and the boy didn't know what to do. He stared at the TV screen trying not to focus on his friend, at least until Laxus asked him if he wanted a beer.

“Beer?” Freed asked, turning surprised to his friend. Laxus shrugged.

“My grandfather isn't there. We can have fun and get drunk. It will be fun,” he said.

“Oh,” Freed said and then nodded. “Okay,” he said. Laxus went into the kitchen and Freed paused the movie, waiting for his friend to return. When Laxus returned, however, he didn't have a beer in his hand, but a bottle of vodka. He grinned and opened it.

“Will Makarov not notice?” Freed asked.

“With everything he drinks he certainly won't,” Laxus replied as he sat down on the sofa and opened it. Immediately afterwards he took a long drink and then passed it to Freed. He himself took it and drank, then grimaced.

Shortly after, the two decided to mix it with something else, and took what they found from the fridge. A few Schweppes and some small talk and during the film they drank more and more alcohol. They didn't finish the bottle, because they found themselves laughing at some bullshit before. Freed laughed at scenes in the film and Laxus followed him, although he might not understand why.

“Drinking is fun,” Freed said turning to Laxus, and the blonde nodded.

“Of course it is,” he laughed and then put his arm around Freed's shoulders. He felt himself blush and like the last time he drank, he felt agitated by that closeness. He couldn't handle it, not drunk. Even though he wasn't as drunk as the last time, but he was still tipsy and that lowered his defenses.

He leaned on his friend's shoulder and looked up, and felt his heart beat even more strongly when he saw that Laxus was watching him intently. They were silent for a couple of seconds before the blond lowered his head. Freed lifted his chin and their lips joined.

For Freed it was as if his body burned. They were kissing. A second time. And it was Laxus who had done it. He was drunk, true, but he had taken the first step. Freed clung to his shirt and Laxus tilted his head, parting his lips and forcing Freed to do the same.

They pulled apart to catch their breath and Laxus stretched out on the sofa, carrying Freed on top of him, who did nothing to rebel.

“We're drunk,” Freed murmured, without separating from him, but rather, positioning himself comfortably on his friend.

“It's fun to get drunk,” Laxus replied as he ran a hand through Freed's hair. Freed blushed but could only agree. If that became their new drunken pastime, then he was looking forward to drinking again.

Meanwhile, he bent over his friend again and joined their lips.

***

Two beers. He had only drunk two beers. It wasn't enough to make him drunk and he was sure Laxus wasn't drunk either. He had drunk less than him and was able to handle alcohol better. Not that Freed cared. As long as he was lying on his friend's bed with Laxus astride him, he wasn't interested in anything else.

Laxus's lips ran down his jaw until they reached his neck and Freed cocked his head to the side, giving him free access. When he heard his friend begin to suck and bite, he moaned loudly.

“Fuck,” he whispered. God, he wanted to let go and make him do whatever he wanted. He felt Laxus's hands go up under his shirt and Freed let him do it, while trembling with excitement. This time it wasn't the alcohol that stunned him, but Laxus's care, his hands, his mouth and... oh god. Laxus was tough.

Freed's eyes widened and looked down. He was really tough. Not that the situation was different for him. He felt his cheeks inflame and looked up, meeting his friend's. He too was red in the face and was panting slightly, looking intently at him. His hips pushed forward and Freed couldn't hold back another groan.

Shit.

He clung to Laxus's neck and began kissing him intensely again, while they rubbed each other to get both a little relief. Freed dared to pull up Laxus's shirt, running a hand over his bare back and was happily surprised not to feel any opposition.

In fact, Laxus was enjoying himself.

“Shit Freed,” Laxus moaned as he continued to push against him. That friction was driving him crazy, and Freed was afraid he’d come in his pants at any moment. Laxus, however, didn’t stop. “Freed... I can't take it anymore,” Laxus blew on his face.

“Me neither,” Freed admitted.

The two boys stopped, both panting and both with a problem in their pants. For a moment they were both undecided on what to do. Freed didn't want him to end up there. He wanted to continue, make out with Laxus and maybe do something more. And he thought Laxus wanted it too, since he wasn't moving from his position.

“I... I’ve tissues,” Freed stammered. Laxus looked at him for a moment confused and Freed took courage and reached out to reach his friend's belt. Cheeks ablaze he looked up, and Laxus gasped even more. “Can I?” Freed asked uncertainly.

“Oh god, yes,” Laxus replied quickly. Freed, satisfied and excited by the answer, took off his belt and opened his friend's pants. He swallowed nervously as he reached under his boxers and with the other hand took the packet of tissues on the bedside table, dropping the lamp and some CDs on the floor. But Laxus didn't seem to care.

The blond followed his example and the two gave each other pleasure on the bed, and then stayed there with their pants open and panting breaths.

At least until they heard that Makarov had returned. At that point they got up and fixed everything, throwing away the dirty tissues, and in a few seconds being fully sober and friends again. And again, neither of them dared to talk about it.

***

Final notes: Probably the DVDs will seem part of the Middle Ages or something like that, but consider that in Italy up to five/six years ago Netflix hadn’t yet arrived, so if this story is set between 2016 and 2018 it’s perfectly plausible, because it was not still so popular.

That said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, even if Freed and Laxus still can't stand each other. Thanks to those who comment, it really means a lot to me.

#fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #freed x laxus #fanfiction

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oimoi-op · 3 years

Note

when were you diagnosed with t1d?

Ok, so storytime! Short answer is, as of today, barely over two months ago.

(Very long post warning y’all, contains hospital mention and extensive, possibly upsetting descriptions of health conditions, specifically DKA)

My family doesn’t really have a history of T1D or even T2D, though my second-cousin-once-removed has had T1D for over a decade now. So, there was never any reason for me to try and get tests done for it. The only sign I really had up until last semester was two copies of a variant of an HLA gene that I knew about from a 23andMe report (which, according to the report, put me at a higher risk for celiac’s and nothing else), but of course at that time I had no idea that that could mean anything serious; after all, that sort of thing only happens to other people, right?

My college started in-person classes in the latter half of August. By October, I started feeling tired, having a lack of appetite, and needing water very, very badly. I actually went to my school’s clinic, and my erratic heartbeat prompted the doctor to recommend me for a Covid-19 test. My school’s protocols meant that I had to quarantine at my home (since I live within two hours of campus) until I got a negative test result. At home, I was drinking water all the time and sleeping constantly, and my parents had commented on how I’d been losing weight. I thought these were all good things. I had been slightly overweight at my high school graduation, and I’d always heard that drinking a lot of water is good for you, so I thought I was actually in excellent health even if I kind of felt like shit most of the time.

Well. Uh. I was wrong.

When finals came around in mid-November, I was just fucking tired. I’d get a decent eight hours of sleep and still have to take naps during the day. Hell, I was even late for work because I slept through one of my nap alarms. Studying was a pain in the ass. Attending classes was a pain in the ass. Staying awake for Zoom classes was a pain in the ass. I was waking up at 5 am to go to the bathroom, and then I would drink the rest of my water, refill it, drink half of it again, and then go back to sleep. Finally, November 20th rolled around, and I got to leave campus. It was my birthday (yeah I am a Scorpio and that weirds all of my friends out lol), and my parents took me to Fusion. And I just...couldn’t eat at all? I love hibachi, but I couldn’t even eat half of my food. The chef even got me a delicious banana split that I had to basically bully my younger sister into eating with me.

For the next week, I was sleeping about 18 hours a day. I didn’t think this was weird because I’d just had finals so yeah, it makes sense that I would be tired after exams and whatnot. I went shopping with my mom, sister, and sister’s bff. We were only out for a few hours, but I was fucking wiped out y’all, like in pain. Thanksgiving arrived, and again, I love food, I love eating, but I was not hungry in the slightest. I basically had to force myself to eat some of my favorite holiday foods just so I wouldn’t offend my mom, and then I didn’t eat for the day.

The very next morning, I was puking my guts out.

This started a pattern for the next few days: I would eat chicken noodle soup or some other food, sleep like the dead, and throw up every morning and every night. I started chugging large bottles of Gatorade constantly (which, if you know about diabetes and its health complications, did not help my situation in the slightest). I started breathing erratically after very little exertion. Like, I’m talking standing up and stretching brought about heavy, labored breathing. I weighed myself on my parents’ scale, and I was under 130 lbs. Now, for some people this might seem like a lot, but due to my height and build I could fucking see some of my ribs. That was when I started to realize that something was very, very wrong, but “losing weight is good” and I didn’t want my parents to laugh at me for voicing concerns (though, for all their faults, in hindsight, I doubt they would’ve). Yeah. Don’t do that, folks, that’s not a good mindset to have.

On Sunday, my mom took me to town to get tested for Covid. This was despite me saying that I didn’t have symptoms (which I knew very well due to some of my friends catching it at school). Rapid test came back negative, so I did a culture test. Hell, while I was sitting in the damn chair, I was about to pass out. I asked for a nausea pill but my mouth was too dry for it to dissolve. I got a cup of water, downed it all, and felt like my throat was on fire. For the rest of the day I felt so, so awful. At some point I was walking toward my bed in my room and I fucking fell. I’m fucking lucky there was carpet.

Regarding the rest of that night, things start to get blurry, for the lack of a better term. I legitimately cannot recall everything that happened that night or the following two days, so I will just try to explain it in the way I remember it best.

Around...midnight or one??? I was on fucking fire, so I went to my bathroom and decided to lie on the floor. The floor was hardwood and not at all cold, and it wasn’t fucking comfortable even in that state, but I was just in so much pain I didn’t even care. My mom must’ve heard because she found me there and asked me what I was doing. I said something about the floor. She asked me to go back to bed, but I must’ve scared her because she asked me if I wanted her to lie in the bed with me. I don’t remember what I said to her, but we were in the bed and she was trying to hug me, but she was too warm and so I told her to stop. I kept feeling this burning just below my chest, like there was acid in me (which I guess wasn’t too far off), so I would randomly sit up to try and alleviate the pain and not cry. I remember asking my mom to take me to the hospital in the morning.

My mom put me in the truck (I think around 5 am is what she told me). I remembered hearing my dad. I was lying down. Then I was awake, but I was on the floor. I thought this was wrong so I tried to tell my mom that but I guess I couldn’t talk. Then I was in a hospital bed, the ER I assume. My mom gave me some water with a sponge, and I was just so fucking thirsty. Then I was in the ICU hooked up to a bunch of machines. I didn’t know what was going on, but my mom kept giving me water with that sponge. That is all I remember from Monday.

I remember a little bit more from Tuesday. My mom said something about diabetes, but that didn’t make any sense to me because I wasn’t “fat” and I’d been losing weight, even! What had I done to get diabetes? I was thirsty and tired, so I slept a lot. At some point I really needed to use the restroom so I unhooked my IV???? (I mean I must’ve disconnected myself somehow but I can’t remember the details) which set off a shit ton of alarms and people were Very Concerned and kept asking me Why Did You Do That? But I just needed to go to the restroom, and they told me to use the Red Button to Call the Nurse (it was already there, and I now realize that we’d probably had a similar conversation about the Red Button to Call the Nurse possibly multiple times before this) in the future. A Chopped Teen Tournament from 2017 was playing on the TV nonstop. There were commercials for CGMs. I thought that God wasn’t being very funny about the whole thing.

As of now I remember even less of Wednesday, but I know that felt better. There was this diabetes specialist who kept talking about insulin and life at college moving forward, but I wasn’t really there, either because of being so out of it for health reasons, disassociating, or a combination of the two. My mom told me she had emailed a professor so he would give me an extension on an assignment that was due by then, and I remember crying because I thought that was just so nice of him. That night, this guy got me in a wheelchair and put me in another room, which I would later learn was the ACU. My night nurse was this nice woman named Tanya, who had a very thick Eastern European accent. She got me orange juice to take some potassium pills, but it felt like swallowing rocks. I didn’t really get a lot of sleep, so I was awake when the nurses changed shifts. I remember one of them expressing surprise that I was out of the ICU so early.

My mom took longer to come that day because nobody had told her I’d been moved. I’d had plain Cheerios and orange juice for breakfast, but I couldn’t really eat because my throat hurt so badly. I talked to a lot of doctors. I guess at this point or somewhere near it I accepted that I had diabetes, but it wasn’t really real until the same diabetes specialist was going over carbs. I thought I was never going to eat shit I liked ever again. I really wanted a fucking McChicken sandwich. I signed some papers for Medicaid because I had aged out of the CHIP while in the hospital. I finally texted my friends and explained to them what had happened. I was so fucking tired.

I got out the next day, so that was Thursday. Normally, I would’ve been in the hospital much longer (especially because my Medicaid hadn’t been approved, meaning no insurance had approved of my insulin yet), but Covid cases were on the rise and the hospital wanted me out of there. The diabetes specialist and one of my nurses snuck me two fast-acting and two basal insulin pens, and I was out. I ate half a McChicken, a small fry, and drank my first Diet Coke. It tasted like diesel mixed with piss.

That’s the gist of it. The hospital staff was very nice and thoughtful the entire time, I think. I felt as though everyone involved cared about my health a lot.

For those of you who aren’t T1D or just don’t know, what I experienced is called DKA, short for diabetic ketoacidosis. To simplify, I was very close to entering a diabetic coma. My sister later told me that our dad had said (I assume a doctor had told my mother, who, in turn, had told him) that I was “approximately 45 minutes” away from death. DKA happens when a diabetic (usually a T1D like me) has too much blood sugar in their body due to them lacking the insulin necessary to break the sugar down, so their body breaks down their fat reserves and muscle to get the energy it needs. This is why I lost around 50 pounds over the course of a few months (I was 118 lbs. when I entered the hospital, the lowest I’ve been since grade school). I was officially diagnosed with T1D on November 30th, just ten days after my 19th birthday, which is a little older than normal I believe. It’s...well, it’s not fun, but I feel very grateful for my large support system, and tomorrow I’m trying out a CGM for the first time and applying for both it and a pump, so things are really looking up

#personal #iamapincushion #t1d #type one diabetes #type one diabetic #dka #diabetic ketoacidosis #tw hospital #tw dka #i don't think you meant me for to respond with such a long answer #but #well #it's something i've been wanting to post for a while now and this seemed like a good opportunity

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squishymochisoo · 5 years

Text

the anatomy of a flower || hwang hyunjin

genre : angst, college au

pairing : hwang hyunjin x reader

words : 2.1 k

warnings: death

sypnosis : every flower from the bouquet you gave to him was a reminder. a reminder that left a pain in his heart and tears on his cheeks. you two met from a part-time job, who would’ve thought it evolve into love?

~ ~ ~

you were just like a flower to him.

when you first realize that a flower is starting to wilt, you heart clenches in pain. you always seem to feel guilty for not paying enough attention to it. for not watering it in the morning before you left for work.

just like the first petal of a flower that started to wilt, the pain of losing you did not only contain guilt but also the torment and agony without having you around in his life.

every petal was like a reminder to him

hyunjin stared at the flower in his hand, staring at the park the two of you used to spend most of your time in. his hand hovering over the first petal, pulling it out.

“hyunjin, i’d like you to meet y/n” your boss introduced the new employee to you. you smiled gently at the tall handsome boy. you were supposed to teach him the ropes to this job but you felt a little underqualified to do so.

“y/n, i’m leaving. and since there’s practically no one here, you’ll cope with teaching hyunjin.” your boss shrugged her shoulder. sometimes it really did seem like she doesn’t know how to run a business.

the two of you stood awkwardly as you felt the door to the café close behind your boss. you looked up and smiled awkwardly while nodding slowly, not knowing why you were doing so.

“so,-er what do i have to know?” hyunjin hesitated. your eyes widened as if you just remembered what you were supposed to be doing. you walked behind the counter showing him how to work the register and how the system of the café works.

“woah this is a lot of information to take in” hyunjin laughed.

“well, if you think this is a lot of information then i don’t think you are ready to face the coffee machine just yet” you raised your eyebrows and jokingly shook your head.

“no no no no no! i wanna give it shot!” hyunjin exclaimed. your lame ass was really tempted to make a coffee joke based on what he said. but you didn’t feel like scaring a stranger off this quickly.

“okay if you say so” you smirked and raised one of your eyebrows.

~ ~ ~

hyunjin grasped the petal he pulled; clenching it in his hands, not being able to control the tears that somehow make its way down his cheeks. he couldn’t help but let out a sob as his thoughts are flooded with you.

hyunjin just wanted you next to him once again.

hyunjin just needed you next to him once again.

~ ~ ~

you smiled cheekily as you playfully threw hyunjin a rag. hyunjin frowned as narrowed his eyes at you; before running after you. the both of you chased each other around the barely lit closed coffeehouse.

“y/n stop!” hyunjin called after you whilst waving his hands around as if imitating a monster. it had been a month since hyunjin started at the both of you grew surprisingly close. close enough that even your boss knew it was a mistake assigning to you and hyunjin the closing shift.

you felt two arms engulf you in an embrace; “caught you!”

you felt blood rush to your cheeks unknowingly. hyunjin somehow had that effect on you.

hyunjin pulled another petal off the flower once more; as if every petal was a reminder of you.

“seungmin, jisung, lix, meet y/n” hyunjin gestured to you. you waved shyly at hyunjin’s friends.

“so you’re y/n? jinnie talks a lot about you” you side-eyed hyunjin and notices his eyes widen. you let out a small laugh.

“good things hope” seungmin nodded and smiled gently at you.

“only the best, don’t you worry y/n” jisung mentioned.

“oh? do you want coffee? it’s on me” you brought up and gestured to the free tables in the café.

why did you love me so much? even with all my flaws, you understood me like no one did. you held me like no one did. you loved all my friends as much as i do. why were you so perfect? you were always there for me, even when sometimes i wasn’t. why wasn’t i there for you when it was most important?

“you know, i’m glad we became friends” you gave a toothy smile at hyunjin, as the both of you sat on the pavement in front of the now closed café. sometimes the two of you would just sit there in front of the shop for hours just staring at the dark sky. you felt him take a deep breath, the two of you sitting so close in the cold under the night sky. the light that reflected of fthe moon landing on your face, illuminating your features that hyunjin could not get tired of.

“some nights, i like to think about what if we were much more than this” you whispered, probably not even aware of what you were saying as you stared ahead into the empty street. heat rushed towards hyunjin’s cheeks. hyunjin shifted his body towards you, looking down and stared into your eyes.

“can’t say i don’t do the same.” you smiled cheekily and stuck out your tongue at him.

~ ~ ~

more tears dragged along hyunjin’s cheeks. he grasped the flower in his fist, slamming his fist repeatedly against the wall of his apartment.

“hyunjin stop! please…” jisung’s cries echoed through the apartment, his hands wrapping around hyunjin’s wrist trying to stop his best friend.

“this can’t be happening” hyunjin stared at jisung, as if asking for an answer as to why it happened, as if hoping that jisung was some wizard that knew how to reverse back time and change everything.

“i-i can’t lose them. not like this, we barely had any time together.” hyunjin’s voice muffled against jisung’s shoulder as jisung pulled him into a hug. jisung’s arms wrapped tightly around hyunjin, comforting him.

“let it out hyunjin, i’ll be here don’t worry.”

~ ~ ~

“y/n! you can’t – no- stop it!” hyunjin laughed as he chased after you. you giggled and took another step away from him.

“y/n! stop eating ice-cream, you know you’re lactose intolerant!” you raised the spoonful of ice-cream closer to your mouth and raised an eyebrow towards hyunjin.

“baby please, you know you’re gonna regret that later. then you’ll scold me for not stopping you before eating the ice cream.”

“you’re stopping me now, so i won’t scold you later! i promise!” you pouted.

“you’ll get all sulky because i didn’t try hard enough. i know you y/n, we’ve been dating for what seven months?”

“the best seven months of my life, you mean” your head cocked to the side giving him a little wink.

“stop trying to act cute, i’m still not letting you eat that ice-cream!”

~ ~ ~

‘every minute spent with you was one of the greatest moments in my life.’ hyunjin thought to himself, as he found himself staring at the dark sky, the moon being the only that the shined.

“hey…” seungmin uttered softly as he sat himself down next to hyunjin. his eyes glancing over every feature of hyunjin’s. the glossy, swollen eyes from crying, the red nose from all the sniffling and the tears stained cheeks.

“here” seungmin passed a bottle of water to hyunjin. seungmin knew hyunjin best, but in that very moment, he couldn’t imagine the pain hyunjin must’ve been going through.

“i-i just don’t understand.” hyunjin sniffled. seungmin could hear from the way he was talking that hyunjin was trying not to cry all over again.

“i miss y/n, i miss that stupid cute idiot, who’d run around the café during closings or who’d secretly send me letters in the mail, making sure i remembered that they love me every day.” hyunjin chuckled softly.

“ i mean why couldn’t they just text me like a normal person. or sometimes they’d send me an email with an invitation so that my phone calendar reminds me when i have a date. or even when they dragged me to the haunted house and told me to hold their hand if i got scared, when that fool was the one screaming bloody murder the most. i just miss y/n”

~ ~ ~

“close your eyes hyunjin! i said close your eyes! it’s a surprise!” y/n playfully slapped his back. hyunjin let out a big laugh.

“okay! okay! i promise i didn’t see anything” you slipped your hands into his, pulling him forward. hyunjin followed stumbling around a little as you forgot to tell about a step down or a small pebble in front of him.

“okay baby, you can open your eyes.” you whispered to him, you saw his eyes opened and stared at the surroundings.

“happy birthday baby!” you smiled as hyunjin stared at all his friends in the park greeting him with a cake and started singing the birthday song. you passed him a bouquet of flowers whilst grabbing his hands.

“w-what?” hyunjin stuttered as he tried to take in everything. his friends were here, you were here. everything was perfect.

hyunjin instantly turned to you still shell shocked.

“i love you” you whispered and pecked him on the lips before joining in on the birthday song.

~ ~ ~

“remember my birthday party? i think it was the most perfect moments in my life. if i could replay that day, it’ll always be on repeat.” hyunjin turned to seungmin. seungmin smiled sadly.

“it was actually y/n’s idea, we were planning on just going on the eat like our normal birthday celebrations. but y/n insisted that it had to be super special for you.”

“they were hell-bent on making sure that the surprise was so perfect, even chan hyung was scared at one point of time, because he got the balloons in a different colour. y/n nagged at him and asked what’s the point of setting a colour theme for the party if they’re not even going to get the correct balloons. we even had a google document proposal, a budget planner and everything.” seungmin chuckled at the memory.

“how could y/n be so … perfect?” hyunjin sighed as he glanced at the flower he still held in his hand.

“you guys were perfect for each other”

~ ~ ~

“okay, hold my hand and tell me everything’s going to be okay” you stated and stretched out your hand towards hyunjin.

“you’ll do great okay, trust me. now go and get that a grade for me” hyunjin’s grip tightened around your hand, comforting you.

“okay! i will! you’re right i can do this!” you exclaimed as you skipped towards the exam venue. hyunjin laughed as he watched you disappear from his line of sight.

“i felt like everything came in slow motion, from the call to now. everything went by in slow motion and yet i couldn’t comprehend what was going on. i still can’t.” hyunjin squeezed his hand as if the force could shatter the flower petal.

“y/n? please, baby?” hyunjin called out to you, slightly shaking your arms hoping you groan and wake up, asking him to stop it. but you don’t.

“they told me, that day, i wouldn’t have to pick them up, from their exam. that they would stop by the bakery and get a cake to celebrate. that cute fool couldn’t even come home safely.”

hyunjin held the last flower from the bouquet you gave him for his birthday, in his clenched fists.

“it’s been months and every petal reminds me of you. i forgive you for leaving me, y/n. i miss you. i wish i could see your cute stupid face just once more, to tell you that i love you. to tell you that you didn’t have to worry about that exam, to tell you that you aced it. to tell you that i can never go by the bakery without feeling that emptiness in my heart. to tell you that work has never been the same. and birthday parties are never as fun without you here.”

“the flowers are gone but you’ll always be here, right next to me”

~ ~ ~

a/n! i know it’s short, but it’s been wip since the start of this year! and i really wanted to do something with it!

let me know your thoughts and anything you wanna tell me!! i’d really appreciate it!

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cluttermind · 4 years

Text

Without A Parachute (5/?) - Never Alone

Summary: Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 17,806 total / 3,675 Ch 5

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

Note: Thank you all for reading! I really appreciate it! I struggled SO MUCH with this particular chapter, rewrote the ended 4 times and before even writing it I had plotted multiple different ways this one could’ve gone. I hope you enjoy the sweet moments between Emma and Elsa and Emma and Killian!

Chapter 5

“Never Alone”

When the good times go bad

When the tears start to flow

You can ever be glad

You're never alone

And when you're lost out at sea

And the winds chill your bones

You can count on me

You're never alone

- Nathan Angelo, Count On Me

I was in the library. The mutterings in the halls that day were filled with news that Ivies had started to send out decisions. A mix of my classmates had been accepted, rejected, and waitlisted. All I wanted was to get out of this town on her own accord, make her own decisions, and finally have control.

I was at one of the computers, email and password typed in. I couldn’t bring myself to hit enter. I didn’t want to face the likely disappointment that waited for me on the other side of the log-in screen. What Ivy League would want an orphan who had to live in her tiny Bug just to have a consistent transcript? What Ivy League want’s a girl who’s gotten busted for shoplifting more times than she could count because she needed to eat? What Ivy League would want someone like me?

“Emma dear, what’s wrong?” I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard her voice behind me.

“Mary Margret.” I sighed, turning to her. Mary Margret was the one who helped me apply for application fee waivers, fill out my college applications, study for my AP exams and SAT exams. She was the only person who ever really cared about me. “Ivies apparently started to send out decisions.”

She set her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s find out for ourselves, shall we?” I clicked the log in button and held my breath.

Congratulations, Emma Swan! We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted to . . .

Yale.

Columbia.

Harvard.

Cornell.

My eyes were wide. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Mary Margret nearly yelled behind me, releasing her grip on my shoulders only to wrap her arms around me. Tears began falling down my face.

“I got almost a full scholarship to Cornell.” I had to say the words out loud. Otherwise, it would’ve felt too much like a dream.

“I told you, Emma! I’m so proud of you!”

Proud. No one had ever told her they were proud of her.

“I have something for you.” Mary Margret said before scurrying back to the librarian desk. She returned with a small black jewelry box. “I wanted to give it to you for your graduation but I just can't wait!”

I opened the box and inside was a beautiful, dainty 14K gold necklace with a gold book charm. “It’s beautiful. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. You’re a very special girl, Emma.”

***

Emma didn’t remember much as she started to come back to herself. Her dream had brought her back to a time where she was happy, a time where she felt loved and safe. The last thing Emma remembered was Killian’s eyes. Her eyes felt heavy as she struggled to open them and her throat felt dry as she struggled to speak.

“Killian?”

Elsa looked up from where she was sitting in a chair next to the bed Emma was in. “It’s Elsa,” she said, gently. “Killian’s just outside with August.”

Emma finally opened her eyes to see her friend. She was wrapped in comfortable sheets and a fluffy comforter. Sitting up in the unfamiliar bed, she looked around the room and didn’t recognize anything. “Where am I?”

“You’re in Killian’s apartment.” The curtains drawn over the doors threw her off. The last time she was in his apartment they were open and the glass doors gave the illusion that the apartment was bigger than it was. Elsa moved to sit on the bed next to Emma. “Do you remember anything that happened last night?”

Elsa had changed. She was in leggings and a sweatshirt. Her roommate had brought her a bag with a change of clothes along with Emma’s bag that was left in their dorm. Emma, however, was still in her dress and jacket from last night. Last night. She had a few drinks, over a few hours, enough that she was tipsy but not enough that she was drunk. Except she was, when she left. And a man . . . Her head was killing her, every inch of her body was in pain. She felt like she had been hit by a truck.

Emma swallowed hard, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I don’t know.” Elsa handed her the glass of water that was on the nightstand. Emma slowly took a sip and set it down again.

“Emma,” Elsa took a deep breath, her tears pooling in her eyes. “You left the bar, you said you had a headache. You left your phone on the bar though. Killian ran out once he noticed it and tried to catch up to you. He saw some guy holding you and . . . dragging you along with him.” Elsa took a deep breath, trying to be strong for her friend. “God, I heard him scream over the music. He said the guy tossed you to the ground and you hit your head. You passed out and we brought you up here.”

Everything was rushing back to Emma faster than rocks fall during a landslide. She felt like she was being buried under the weight of the fear, the pain, the guilt that consumed her. “I didn’t drink that much,” Emma said, defensively, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Emma. No one is blaming you. None of this is your fault.” Elsa sighed and gently rested her hand on top of her friend’s. Emma couldn’t stand to be touched though. She felt wrong. She felt dirty. She felt like a shell of the person she was before. Because that’s what this created. It was a wall that divided her life, her being, her soul. There was a before. Before she let herself feel free for a night. Before she let herself lose a little control and dress a little sexier and let herself feel happy. Emma realized that she was in the after. After being unable to fight back. After choosing to leave alone. After the damage. Damaged. The word kept popping back up into her head, poisoning the memories that, on any other occasion, would be on constant replay like a new favorite song. Flashbacks of kissing Killian on a make-shift dance floor. Damaged. Flashbacks of his arms wrapped tightly around her. Damaged. Flashbacks of their shameless flirting. Damaged. Flashbacks of the desire she had seen in the deep blue of his eyes. Damaged.

Elsa watched as her best friend battled a war behind her eyes. There was nothing to say in that moment could have made anything better. The light was out in Emma’s eyes. Her green eyes usually shined bright, as if Emma had something to prove in every single thing she did, as if she was always in control, as if she was always simultaneously day dreaming and living a life she had dreamed of. It was a light that was unique to Emma. That day, that light was trapped behind a new darkness.

“You’re okay, Emma. You’re safe now. I promise,” was all Elsa could manage.

“If Killian hadn’t . . .” Emma’s voice trailed off.

“But he did. And you’re safe.”

Emma nodded and her gaze turned to her hands. Elsa sat with her friend for a while in silence before finally speaking again. “Do you want me to get Killian?”

Emma hesitated before shaking her head no. She wasn’t ready for him to see her this broken. All at once she needed more time and needed him with her.

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

Emma shook her head again.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as tears started to fall. She shook her head no and leaned into Elsa, her head resting on Elsa’s shoulder. Elsa’s arms wrapped around her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let it out, Emma.” Emma’s entire body shook with sobs. Tears started to escape from Elsa’s eyes as well. She was crying with and for her friend. They were best friends nearly instantly. They danced out their feelings together. They aggressively binged Grey’s Anatomy together (hence the dancing it out). Emma went to protests and rallies just to support Elsa. Elsa was always the first person who read anything Emma wrote. They mocked sexism in literature and praised classical feminist authors together. They ate lunch together as often as possible. When one of them was hurt, the other was hurt.

Killian and August heard Emma crying from the other room. Killian swore he felt his heart break in his chest.

“She’ll be okay,” August noted.

***

Elsa eventually emerged from Killian’s bedroom when the sun was starting to set, closing the door behind her. Killian immediately stood up and turned to her.

“How is she?” He asked. He hadn’t slept at all. His hair was tousled from running his hands through it all night. He, August and Elsa had taken turns sitting with Emma while she was out so that they could each try and get some sleep and so that someone was always with Emma. Robin tried to come when he finally emerged from his rendezvous with Regina but Elsa convinced him they had it handled and that he should enjoy his Sunday. Of course he was incapable of that, though, and unbeknownst to the rest of them, spent the day perusing the internet on his laptop in the pub, waiting for one of them to eventually come down. None of them were able to stomach the thought of eating anything.

Elsa sighed. “She’ll be okay. She probably needs food and a shower, likely some Advil. She shouldn’t go to class tomorrow, she really needs to rest.”

August’s stomach growled. “I think we all need food.”

“Why don’t you guys head downstairs and eat something? It’s on the house. I think Ruby should be managing.” Killian said, pulling his phone out to text Ruby to give them anything they want for free. “I can stay with Emma and make sure she eats something.”

Elsa nodded. “She was asking about you before I left. I think August and I can head out if you think you’re okay here? I put her bag in your room. There should be a change of clothes and shoes, her journal, her laptop, and her macro textbook but don’t let her read it. Tell her to take a break for once.”

“Thank you,” Killian said. “I’ll keep you updated.” Elsa threw her bag over her shoulder and they said goodbye. When the door to his apartment closed, Killian slowly opened the door to his bedroom, poking his head in. “Emma?” He asked, softly, his accent thick with concern. Closing the door behind him, Killian walked to sit at the foot of the bed.

Emma was laying on her side curled up under the covers, her face nearly buried in the pillow. She breathed in the faintly familiar scent of Killian lingering on the pillowcase. “Killian?” She managed when she finally found her voice. The way his name felt on her lips gave her a shimmer of hope that this darkness enveloping her would fade eventually.

Killian let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and rested his hand over her foot. “I’m here, love.” Emma turned to look at him, all the words she wished she could day racing around her mind. Thank you, she thought. Thank you. Don’t leave. I need you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t . . .

His voice pulled her out of her spiral. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll find you some fresh clothes to change into,” he suggested.

She nodded, slowly sliding out of the comfort of the covers. Everything hurt when she stood. A hot shower was exactly what she needed. Killian motioned to the door that led to his bathroom.

“There’s a clean towel on the back of the door. Just turn the knob towards you to make the water hotter and use whatever’s in there.”

Emma made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The feeling of being alone started to sink in as she turned the water on in the shower, allowing it to get hot before she’d step in. She slid her jacket off and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That’s when she saw it.

Her hair was a mess and her eyes were a little red from crying. On her upper left arm there was a large bruise, wrapping almost entirely around her bicep. Her hand moved to gently brush over it. On contact, Emma winced and remembered. She remembered him grabbing her arm, holding her against him. She remembered how he tightened his grip multiple times. But now, looking in the mirror that was slowly starting to fog, she realized that he had both taken her necklace, the only gift she had ever gotten in her entire life, and branded her. He had marked her and taken a token. He damaged her. Damaged. The realization that he had left his mark on her made Emma sick. She dashed to the toilet, violently throwing up, as if her body was rejecting any remnants of his touch.

Killian was pulling out some pajamas for Emma to change into when he heard her. Emma. Instinctively he ran to the bathroom, throwing the door open without bothering to knock. He kneeled behind her and pulled her hair back and out of her face, holding it with one hand while the other rubbed her back. Before she knew it, Emma was crying again, cheek resting on the cool porcelain of the toilet in front of her. Killian left a comforting kiss on the back of her shoulder. “You’re safe Emma, I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“He hurt me,” Emma choked between sobs. “He marked me.” Saying the words made her vomit again. Killian continued rubbing her back

“What?” While Killian’s voice was soft, he felt rage racing through his entire body. Then he noticed the bruise on her arm. “Oh Emma.” He rested his hand lightly over the mark. He wanted to kill the bastard who did this to her, who hurt her and he wanted to hit himself for letting him get away. “It’ll fade. You’re going to be okay. It’s just a bruise.” Emma froze at Killian’s touch. Warmth ran across her body. The gentleness of his hands was in stark contrast to the grip that bruised her. Emma wanted to bury herself in that touch and never have to feel that pain ever again. That’s what Killian’s touch was to her in that moment - safety, comfort, and a feeling of a promise that he would never hurt her. But how could someone like him ever want someone as broken, as damaged , as she was?

Killian reached forward, flushing the toilet before shifting his position so that he could pull Emma into his lap. He held her close against him, rocking her gently as she cried, stroking her hair. Emma clung to him, her hands fisting the material of his shirt and her face buried in his chest. “H-how could you - everything’s ruined,” she said between sobs.

“Love, what are you talking about?”

“Talk to me. Please.” Killian pleaded when Emma didn’t respond.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted. Emma knew there wasn’t really anything for Killian to leave exactly, but that kiss meant something in the before . She wanted it to mean something in the after too.

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the still-running water from the shower, “I’m not going anywhere. None of this changes anything.”

***

After Emma brushed her teeth and showered, she came out to find clothes that Killian left out for her neatly folded on the bed. He had left her a pair of plaid pajama pants and a soft, worn grey University of Oxford long-sleeve t-shirt. She had to roll the waistband of the pants a few times so she wouldn’t trip on them and the shirt’s sleeves were long enough on her that she could clutch the ends of them in her hands. Comfort washed over her when she was dressed, but a simple change of clothes, even Killian’s clothes, couldn’t erase the trauma replaying over and over again in her head.

So she crawled back into bed, slipping under the covers that she pulled up to her chin trying to hide from both the world and herself. Killian poked his head in moments later carrying two bowls, each with a fork in it. “Hey. I made you dinner, you should try to eat something.” Killian took the chair Elsa had been sitting in next to the bed and handed her a bowl of pasta. Emma sat up and took it, suddenly realizing that she was starving.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a bite.

“It was no trouble, love.”

“No.” Emma looked at him. “I mean thank you. For . . . “ her voice trailed off. Killian understood what she was saying. It was a thank you for everything: for protecting her, for letting her stay here, for taking care of her. For saving her.

“It’s no trouble, love.” They continued to eat in silence. Killian checked his phone a few times, answering texts from Emma’s friends and letting them know that she was okay, that he had gotten her to take a shower and to eat something. When they were finished he brought the bowls back into the kitchen. He needed a shower and a change of clothes desperately. Killian made his way back to the bedroom where Emma had curled into herself, hugging one of his pillows tight to her chest. After grabbing pajamas to change into, he slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower and brush his teeth. He let the hot water run over him, relaxing his tense muscles for longer than he had planned.

Eventually, he emerged, dressed with damp hair that he pushed off his forehead. Emma hadn’t moved from her position on his bed. Killian walked over to place a gentle kiss on her temple. “Try and get some sleep, love.”

Emma looked up when he started to walk away. “Wait,” she said as he reached for the doorknob. Killian turned to look back at her, a little startled at the sound of her voice. “Please don’t go.”

“Emma -”

“I don’t want to be alone.” She couldn’t be alone with her thoughts conjuring up too many what ifs. When Killian was near, her mind calmed down. The what ifs that ended in the worst possible ways started to become the what ifs any girl with a crush day dreamed about. He was a welcomed respite from her fear, a beacon of light in what felt like endless darkness.

Slipping into bed next to her, he was cautious of the walls he knew she had put up. Killian laid on his side, facing Emma’s back. He rested a hand on her back to let her know he was there. Emma reached around and grabbed his hand, pulling him close to her as she held his arm tightly against her.

“You never have to be alone Emma,” he said. Her hair smelled like his shampoo. All he wanted to do was make her feel warm and safe. If he could take away all her pain he would.

When Killian finally fell asleep and after Emma had failed miserably to fall asleep, she snuck out of bed, grabbed her journal, and slipped out of the bedroom. The wave of emotions washing over her as she ran her hand over the soft, brown leather made her want to give into that darkness and drown in it. She couldn’t handle any of it anymore. Give it to the page, she thought. And so she did.

***

The one who will never be good enough. The one who never got the perfect job. The one who was stood up. The one who messes it all up. It was as if everyone could see clearly through their present dreams to their future realities.

If X is the one who’s rejected, whose career might be on the line, and Y is the one left waiting alone in the restaurant, whose heart breaks with every passing second, and Z is the one who drank too much to remember the night, whose clouded mind hurts the one next to him, then I am the one who’s never going to be good enough for the one next to me, whose damage will will make realize that she should be nothing more than a ship passing in the night soon to be forgotten amongst the rest of his mistakes.

***

Soon, Emma felt like she was able to breathe again. Although when that finally happened, she realized how exhausted she was from everything she had been through. So she crawled back into the bedroom, quietly as to not wake Killian who had rolled onto his back in his sleep. Emma smiled when she saw him, his features soft in sleep, his chest gently rising and falling with his breathing. It was then that Emma knew she was damned to keep falling for him and that there was no safety net to catch her. All either of them needed to do was jump.

Tiptoeing through the room, she slipped back under the covers and curled up against Killian, resting her head on his chest, comforted by the repetitive sound of his heartbeat.

“Hey,” Killian sighed sleepily, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close to him, too tired to open his eyes. “You okay?”

Avoiding the question of whether or not she was okay because, to be perfectly honest, she wasn’t entirely sure, she simply responded with “You’re warm.”

Killian chucked, a soft, sleepy, comforting sound. “Are you cold, love?” Emma didn’t answer verbally. Instead she pressed a cold hand to his neck that he lazily swatted away. “Aye, you’re definitely cold.” He pulled the sheets and comforter up to her shoulders. “Try to get some sleep, Swan.”

It didn’t take Emma long to fall asleep in Killian’s arms. After all the memories and the what ifs that had played over and over in her head all day, Killian must’ve been her dream catcher because for the rest of the night Emma didn’t dream.

#cs ff #cs fanfiction #Without A Parachute #Captain Swan #Killian Jones #Captain Hook #Emma Swan #AU College #AU modern with magic #I promise there will be fluff in the next chapter

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yoon-kooks · 5 years

Text

Study Buddy

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: College!AU, Fluff

Summary: You agree to share your notes for the upcoming midterm with the most popular boy on campus if he agrees to make it a study date.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: @chiwoopsie happy birthday and happy graduation! 😭🎉

“In the last minute of class, I’d like to make an amendment to the syllabus,” the old feeble man at the front of the room says, waving around a paper with handwritten notes and arrows in the margin. As a professor of ancient history, he follows the ancient techniques of handling everything orally in person rather than through the convenience of emails and computers. “Surprise, surprise! Next week, we’ll be having our midterm. If you’ve been coming to class everyday and taking notes, you should be prepared… but if not, you best see me in office hours, or better yet, make a new friend!”

Ha! You’ve come to every single lecture thus far, and you’ve certainly taken notes, so you’ll be fine as long as you look over the material a few times before the exam. You can’t say the same for the large majority of the folks in your class, however. A long line has formed to speak to the professor about the midterm as soon as class ended. You recognize those students as the ones who rarely come to class, and for lack of a better word, they are fucked.

You watch the panicked students ask the professor about the content of the exam, a possible study guide, and extra credit opportunities. But your professor’s only response is, “If you’ve been coming to class, you should already know the answers.” And you’re living for it. You don’t even mind waiting at the end of the long line to ask a question out of genuine curiosity about today’s lecture on Ancient Egypt.

The best part, however, comes when the boy in front of you turns around and points at the open notebook in your hand.

“Wow, your notes are really pretty,” he says with an impressed eyebrow raise. You recognize his designer-boyfriend fashion and bright smile as that one kid who’s always doodling in the margins of his notebook—you know this because he always sits in the seat in front of you (he smells yummy like coconuts and vanilla, by the way!). He also just so happens to be a mega flirt and the most popular boy on campus, Jung Hoseok.

“Thanks,” you avert eye contact and stare down at your notes. Your notes might be “pretty” because you’re a diligent student who actually cares to pay attention to the lectures, but you have your suspicions on the intent of Hoseok’s compliment. Because more often than not, people have asked to take pictures of your pretty notes when they were too lazy to do it themselves.

Thankfully, before Hoseok even has a chance to ask for a picture of your notes, you point his attention towards the professor waiting for another desperate question about the exam.

“So, here’s the thing: I kind of missed last week’s lecture, so I don’t really have any notes for that day, so—”

“So make a new friend,” the professor cuts Hoseok off and makes eye contact with you. “For example, students like Y/N always do a phenomenal job on the written assignments, so I’m sure you can find someone to help you out with your dilemma.”

Your professor gestures not-so-subtly in your direction, Hoseok turns around, and you give them both a tiny wave. “A-anyway, I had a question about today’s—”

“Sorry, Y/N, I don’t have time for anymore questions right now... But please feel free to see me in office hours!” The old man, clearly in a rush, cuts you off. He nods to you and the boy before hustling out of the lecture hall. “Good luck studying, you two!”

“Oh…” You watch as the door slams shut behind the old man, trapping you with Jung Hoseok and an awkward silence. It wouldn’t be so bad if your professor hadn’t tried to push Hoseok into being your study buddy, but now you feel some sort of obligation to wait and see if he asks for your help. So you just stand there, pretending to be busy on your phone until he makes the first move.

“What were you going to ask him?” You suppose this is Hoseok’s way of breaking the silence.

“Just something I was curious about with the Sphix of Giza…” you shrug your shoulders. “Nothing related to the exam, if you were wondering.”

“So you’re not stressing over the exam like everyone else is?”

“Perks of coming to class and taking notes everyday, I guess,” you shrug again.

“Yeah, I missed one lecture and now I feel unprepared.” He frowns, running his fingers through his hair and ruffling it a bit. The coconutty-vanilla aroma must be his shampoo because, damn, you really got a good whiff of it just now. Not only is he trying to play the sympathy card with that adorable frown, but he’s also trying to intoxicate you with his own scent! Ha, not today, Satan!

“It’d be a whole lot easier for everyone if the professor just posted a study guide online, huh,” you say instead of offering up your pretty notes. Of course, you don’t actually mind that your professor opted not to make a study guide at the convenience of all the lazy students who failed to attend lecture. But that’s not something that the lazy students like Jung Hoseok would understand.

“That’s true, but I understand why he’s so against study guides and posting anything online for us.”

“You do?” You’re genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, he wants to reward those pay attention in class and punish those who skip class, right?” Hoseok tilts his head and it’s kind of cute. “It puts more of the responsibility on the students.”

You nod because he’s exactly right. Maybe he does understand… Or not.

“That being said,” Hoseok presses his palms together in a pleading manner. “Would it be possible for me to take a look at your notes? Just for the one lecture I missed?”

You just blink at the boy for a moment. If it were really just for one lecture, you wouldn’t mind too much. But this isn’t your first rodeo. It might start out as “just one lecture”, but eventually they’ll come back asking for more. Because they think they can take advantage of hardworking students like yourself. And if that’s the case with Hoseok, you’re certainly going to want something in exchange for your pretty notes.

“Fine, I’ll share my notes with you only if we make it a study date.” You nod to yourself, proud of your negotiation skills. If Hoseok agrees, then you have yourself a date with the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen. If he declines, then he doesn’t deserve to see your pretty notes and can perish along with his grade. It’s a win-win for you, though you do expect to be rejected. You might even prefer the rejection to avoid social interaction, considering you’re a strong believer in antisocial potatoism.

“Let’s have a study date then,” he says without hesitation. You’re caught off-guard by a cheeky smile before he takes your hand into his. “What’s your favorite coffee shop?”

“What—”

You alternate between staring into your caramel macchiato and staring at Hoseok taking a sip of his coffee. Why did a total hottie like Jung Hoseok agree to this study date? Or more importantly, who was the idiot that proposed the study date in the first place? Because it seems like more of an inconvenience for you when it would’ve been so much easier to let him take a photo of your notes and go home and never speak to him ever again. Now you’re stuck on a date with the hottie for the next hour or two. What an absolute tragedy.

When Hoseok opens his notebook, however, something does spark your curiosity about the boy—tiny, poorly drawn sphinxes in the margins of an otherwise empty page. Why does he even bother coming to class if he’s just going to sit there and doodle the entire time? At that point, you’d think it’d be a waste of time to even come to class. But before you have a chance to raise the question about his terrible art skills, he flips the page over to a fresh one.

“Mesopotamia,” you say, assuming it’s your cue to start filling the boy in on the lecture he missed.

“Ooh, like Babylon and shit…” he nods. You still haven’t brought out your own notes, but he obediently starts writing the lecture topic in bold block letters at the top of the page.

“Yeah, and also Sumer and Assyria and…” As you ramble on and on about the subject, you expect the boy to doodle like he always does in lecture. But to your surprise, he’s laser-focused on writing down bullet points of everything you’re saying, and when he misses something, he asks you for clarification.

At one point, he sets his pen down to let his hand rest and instead gives you his full attention—by staring right into your eyes! Flustered is an understatement to how you feel, looking back into his bright yet intimidating eyes. And although you tend to break eye contact and stumble over your words, your little mini lesson on Mesopotamia becomes more of a conversation than a lecture. Talking with an attractive boy is easier than anticipated.

“You aren’t going to doodle like you always do in class?” you pause your lesson because you’re genuinely curious and you need a break from Hoseok’s beautiful eyes piercing through your soul.

“Huh? Nah, that’s just what I do when I’m bored and trying to stay awake through a lecture,” Hoseok chuckles as he flips back through the older pages in his notebook. Rather than having a notebook of only doodles, it seems like he went back and added in notes from each respective lecture after the fact—perhaps by sweet-talking other good students like you. “Besides, you’re much more intriguing than our professor.”

“Wouldn’t it be a lot easier if you just take a picture of my notes?” You finally take out your notes and slide them over for Hoseok’s eyes to see. You want to test him. Because if you’re just another one of his note sources that he’s gonna toss aside after getting what he wants, you’d rather not waste anymore of your time with him.

“Why? Do you have to leave soon?” He checks his watch with another cute frown and starts chugging down his coffee.

“No, no, no.” You wave your hands so the boy doesn’t rush to finish all his coffee. “I was just saying that taking a picture would be a lot quicker and easier… if you didn’t want to stick around and hear me babble on and on or something.”

“Oh… But I like listening to you babble.” His frown turns into a duck face. “And besides, you made it super easy for me to absorb the material. I usually have a difficult time following the professor and taking notes at the same time—that’s why I always doodle in class to stay awake and focused, and I end up having to write my notes right after class from what I can remember.”

“Except for today,” you say, recalling the empty page with tiny sphinxes and slowly piecing together of complexities of Jung Hoseok.

“Right, I still have to write out my Egypt notes when I get home,” he gives you a thumbs-up as thanks for reminding him. “But I’ll worry about that later.”

You blink at him. All this time you thought he was some slacker who relied on others for their notes, but it turns out his intentions with you were the purest of pure. And he really likes you as a teacher, too, even though you’d given him a hard time about it. So maybe Hoseok isn’t so bad after all.

“Or… we could go over the Egypt stuff together after Mesopotamia, if you’d like?” You take a sip of your macchiato. There’s still plenty of caffeine left in your cup, so you might as well stay a little longer.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Hoseok’s bright smile nearly blinds you. He literally radiates the sun’s energy. “And maybe we can figure out what you wanted to know about the Sphinx of Giza that you couldn’t ask the professor earlier.”

And you do figure it out, together. Not only that, but you notice Hoseok picked up on certain lecture details that you must’ve missed. Together you fill in the blanks, together you learn something new, and together you stay at the coffee shop until closing.

Maybe your ancient history professor had a good point in keeping his class entirely offline and in-person. Because while it would’ve been more convenient to share a study guide online or take a pic of someone else’s notes, you no longer consider yourself an idiot for proposing the study date between you and Jung Hoseok.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #hoseok fanfic #bts college au #hoseok x reader #hoseok #jhope #bts #bangtan #study buddy

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puckrmn · 4 years

Text

Nobody Actually Likes Salads || Peychuck

tagging: @thepuckrmn & @peytonhudson

location: Joe’s

time frame: April 22, lunch

warnings: some light salad bashing (dw i actually like salad sometimes)

This has been the longest Peyton had gone not seeing Puck since they’d started sleeping together. He was becoming such a constant in her life that when he was gone it took everything in her not to reach out, and not to randomly show up in his bedroom the same way he used to show up in hers. But proving to herself and to him that she did believe the best in him meant trusting him when he told her he was doing it for her. That he wasn’t going anywhere. She’d spent the morning in class, and as she walked into Joes she was silently cursing the fact that she didn’t put more effort into her appearance before she took Lexi to school — Mornings were hectic. Jeans and an oversized sweater would have to do. It had been a while since her heart raced like it was right now, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered somewhere between excitement and nervousness. All their text conversations hadn’t helped the latter. Spotting him at a booth she couldn’t stop herself smiling even if she wanted to, “Hey... You waiting for someone?” She says quietly, sliding in across from him. “I was meant to be meeting a potato, but I don’t see any soooo can I sit here while I wait?”

Puck leaned back in his seat as he watched people walk by the window of the restaurant. A night out with Kitty and still not completely ventilated apartment had him feeling tired and hungover. He chuckled to himself when he realized he was still wearing his sunglasses inside. Pulling them off, he tucked them in the front of his shirt before grabbing a menu off the table. He was looking over his options when he heard a familiar voice in front of him. Looking up, he smiled at his lunch date. “Think you need to get your eyes check because I’m looking extra potato today.” Leaning across the table, he pressed a kiss to her cheek in greeting. He sat back down and took a sip of his soda. “How were your classes? Finals are right around the corner huh?”

“A slightly tired potato maybe?” she teased, smiling softly as he kissed her cheek. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but for a moment she just wanted to look at him. She’d missed that face. Peyton nodded at the question, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yup, next week. I’m pretty sure I’ve got this now... I dream about flash cards, my entire living room is full of post it notes to remind me of things I need to know, and Lexi has heard so many random facts I’m fairly sure even she could sit my finals for me.” She chuckled, and picked up the menu from the table, twirling it in her fingers. She’d lived in Doveport her whole life, she didn’t really need to see what they had. “How have you been? Besides the turning into a potato thing.” She asked, placing the menu to the side and resting her arms on the table in front of her.

He chuckled as he listened to her, remember how wound up she got before her final exams the previous semester. “You’re gonna kill it. You’re literally the smartest person I know. And you already know everything there is to know about animals. Dr. Peyton Hudson. Has a good ring to it,” he said as he dropped his gaze to look over the menu once more. “I’ve been chill. The studio has been slammed lately. I think I’ve tattooed half the town in the last two weeks. Everyone must be bored or something. Turning into a potato was also fun though. Apartment still smells like weed,” he commented with a shrug. Puck glanced over the menu once more before looking up at Peyton. “I’m thinking the chicken sammie. What about you?”

Dr. Peyton Hudson. With graduation so close and a job offer sitting in her emails, the reality of that title seemed to be closer in reach than ever before. She also wasn’t too proud to admit she liked the way it fell from his lips. “As long as no one asks me for medical advice on a plane, I think I’m pretty excited to be a doctor,” she quips, chewing at the inside of her lip as she listened to him talk about his life. “Yeah, I had a few people come and ask me for ink, but unfortunately with finals I had to send them all your way... you can thank me later.” Peyton joked, looking down at briefly at the menu and nodding. “As lame as it sounds, I think I have to eat a salad... and cheese fries. You know, on the side?” She chuckled. “The nutritional value of one outweighs the other, obviously, and if I don’t eat a vegetable sometime soon, my body may rebel.” She should really make note of that later when it came time to feed Lexi and she has pizza for the third time in five days. When the waitress comes to the table, Peyton ordered politely and handed the menu back to her before turning her gaze back to Puck. There’s silence for a second as she found the words, trying not to ramble for once. “Thank you, Puck... I mean, for the space. I didn’t love it all the time,” she admitted, ducking her head. “But I think I needed it. So, thank you.”

“Oh yea. My biggest tattoo competition in this town. No wonder I was mostly only doing finger letters these past couple of weeks.” Puck shrugged at her lunch choices. “Not judging. Salads can be not boring some times.” He ordered his food when the waitress arrived and asked for a refill on his soda, needing as much caffeine as possible to get through the rest of the day. As a comfortable silence fell over the table, he returned his focus on people watching outside. He was about to point out something funny when he heard her speak up once more. Puck fiddled with his straw wrapper as she thanked him for the space. Shrugging slightly, he glanced up at her. “I was just trying to do what was best for you. It’s obvious that we kinda lost ourselves for a bit there. And if we just kept going like nothing was wrong we would’ve ended up breaking up completely instead of just taking a break. But I’m glad things are working out for you. You found someone to talk to about everything?”

Biting at the inside of her cheek nervously, Peyton nodded. She didn’t need Puck to know everything she’d done over the past couple of weeks to move past what happened with their non-pregnancy, but she needed him to know she was okay. “Yeah... I did,” she mumbles, momentarily distracted when the waitress returns with the soda and the coffee. Coffee was essential pre-exams seeing that sleep was almost non-existent. After quietly thanking her, she brings the hot drink to her lips and lifts her shoulder in tiny shrug. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She commented, still looking down at her drink. “I guess I just really wanted it more than I thought I did. The timing was awful, but... it would have been ours. And then I blamed myself... and my body.” Her lips twist and she finally looked up at him with a small smile. “I’m okay though. I know these things happen... I mean, I’m going to be a doctor in a week so it’s basically my job to know the science.” Peyton held the coffee in her hands, wishing she was able to nudge him or touch him somehow. Why are tables so big? “I have missed you though, Puck.” A lot. But bringing too much sappy out at Puck all at once was never a good thing. Unless they were naked. Which, unfortunately, was not the case.

His fingers tapped the side of his glass as he listened to her explain what happened between them. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. None of this was or is your fault. Shit happens. Life isn’t fair sometimes. When it’s the right time…it’ll happen. It just wasn’t the right time for us. I’m not going to hold it against you, Peyton,” he said with a shrug. His life had been full of bad luck and shitty situations, so he was unfortunately used to things going wrong for him. He would never blame Peyton for something that was out of his control. His issue was with how she acted towards him after all was said and done. Reaching across the table with both hands, his fingers ran down her forearms slowly before grabbing her hands with his. “I’ve missed you too, Peyton.” He squeezed her hands softly and looked up at her. “I really am glad you’re doing better.”

Peyton shook her head slowly, “That’s not exactly what I meant. I’ve come far enough to know that what happened wasn’t actually my fault. Or anyones. But at the time... I didn’t believe that. I kind of have this bad habit of not asking for help when I need it. So I started to believe that you were seeing me the way I was seeing me. Or I was scared that you were going to? Which don’t worry, I don’t believe anymore, but you were right. I got insecure. I mean, more than the normal occasional Peyton insecure moments, and I took it out on you. So... I didn’t mean to hurt you. I guess I just need you to know that it wasn’t you, it was me. And I’m sorry for making you believe that I don’t think the best in you.” So much for not rambling. She sighed quietly, and lifted her gaze to Puck for a beat. When he leaned forward and ran his finger tips down her arms to her hands, she finally let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding since she got here. “Me too,” She murmured, squeezing his hand back tighter than she’d meant to. “That’s all the deep things I had to say today. Oh! and Lexi says hi. She drew on the wall the other day and told me she was tattooing the house, safe to say she also misses you.”

He listened to her ramble away quietly. It was a bummer that she had been struggling for that long and he hadn’t even noticed. Sighing, he squeezed her hands softly. “Hey it’s chill. You can stop apologizing. At some point we gotta like…put this stuff behind us so we can move forward or we’re always going be stuck,” he shrugged. Puck played with her fingers for a moment. Chuckling at her Lexi story, he nodded his head in understanding. “I drew on SO many walls when I was a kid. My mom would whoop my ass every time. She obviously didn’t appreciate my budding artistic talent.” Puck let go of her hands and leaned back as the waiter came by and placed Peyton’s cheese fries on the table between them. “Don’t let Devon know that you’re cheating on his cheese fries.”

“If only she knew you’d grow up to be the second best tattoo artist in the state,” she smiled softly, looking down at their fingers for a moment before the waitress returned. There were two things she wanted right now more than anything: to pass her exams and become a vet, and to not be “stuck” in pause with the person she loves. Oh, and for Lexi to stop using the word ‘fuck’ at school. She chuckled as he spoke, reaching for a cheese fry and placing it in her mouth. “You know I’m terrible at keeping secrets, the likelihood of me blurting it out the next time I see him — which will probably be tonight, because what is cooking? — is incredibly high. I’ll just tell him his are better. Devon is understanding, everything will brie alright.” Peyton didn’t want to push Puck. With him she’d learned that sometimes it’s better for him to do things in his own time and his own way. If keeping things light was what what was needed right now for their whatevership, then she could do just that. “Cheese fry?” She offered, leaning over to hold the fry up to him. “Don’t expect mind blowing.”

“Don’t think about it as keeping a secret…think about it as lying to protect poor little Devon’s feelings.” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and chuckle at her cheese pun. “You dork,” he commented softly. Puck glanced from her face down to the fry she was offering him. Leaning forward, he grabbed the fry with his mouth, making sure to press his lips to her fingertips before pulling away. He pretended to be deep in thought as he chewed and swallowed the cheese fry. “Devon’s are still better. Maybe it’s because I only call him when I’m drunk or high…but his are just better.” Taking a sip of his soda, he leaned back as the water came by with the rest of their food. “How’s studying going? I heard McKenna came up with a pretty interesting incentive program to help you out,” he said with a smirk.

“Whatever the reason, he knows his cheese fries. I’m not sure how I survived without him for so long,” she chuckled, still feeling her fingertips tingle from where his lips had pressed against them. When the food comes, Peyton looked down at the salad and pushed it around on her plate for a second before take a bite. Next to cheese fries, salads aren’t nearly as exciting. With his next question, Peyton had to swallow quickly to stop herself from choking slightly. “Oh my god,” She murmured, bringing her hands to her face to hide the way her cheeks were blushing underneath them. “Of course she did.” Dropping her hands, she glanced up at him returning the smirk on his lips. “Strip studying. It’s the new and improved studying technique to ensure you ace your finals. Very effective. Wanna take part?”

Puck laughed loudly at her reaction to him knowing about the strip studying shenanigans the girls got into. His kept laughing as her face turned red. Smirking, he took a bite from his chicken sandwich as she calmed down. His smirk grew at her offer to take part. “Mmmm…I dunno. I don’t think I’d look as good in that lingerie as McKenna did. You’d probably wanna do whatever you can do to keep my clothes on,” he joked. Puck took a couple more bites of his food. “You know…I am a little disappointed in you. I mean I’m impressed that you had the will power to see McKenna in that outfit and not rip it off of her…but a little disappointed that you didn’t take advantage of the situation.”

She laughed quietly, biting down hard on her bottom lip and silently urging her cheeks to stop blushing. “You’re right, I’m not sure you could pull off the lingerie she did. It’s your lack of butt, sorry. But I am rather partial to seeing you without clothes on... and it’s all about incentive to get questions right”. With this particular conversation, she momentarily ditched the salad and turned her attention back to the fries. Comfort food also included embarrassment food, right? “Hey! I stripped too when I got answers wrong,” she replied, holding out a defensive finger to Puck. “I mean, it was hard. McKenna is perfect and I will watch her strip any day of the week, but... I guess my body still wants something else. And I’ve become pretty great at making it work by myself until I get it.” She shrugged slightly, cocking her head with a half smile. “How do you know what outfit she was wearing? Do I need to be concerned you’re peeping in my living room windows, Puck Puckerman?”

He nodded his head in agreement to her statement. “No butt would be an issue. I also don’t know if I’d be able to fit the little general in those panties. And accidentally nuttage is not sexy,” he joked before taking a bite out of a french fry. “Okay so both of you were pretty much almost naked and you guys didn’t fuck?? Come on, Hudson. I thought you were better than that.” He raised his eyebrow at her following statement. “Been putting that bottom drawer vibrator to good use?” He ran his hand through his hair as he pictured it for a moment. A laugh from his lips at her accusation. “No no. She pulled a Peyton and wrong number texted me the previews that were meant for you.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his comment, chuckling softly to herself. This disappointment she could deal with. Peyton was a lot of things, but her heart — and her body, apparently — were both stubbornly loyal. “It’s been moved to the top draw.” She quipped simply, the smirk growing on her lips. “Easier access that way.” Peyton took a few more bites of the salad, now thinking about the pizza she was definitely going to be ordering tonight. “Wow, I’m hurt I never got the previews. But the real thing was better.” Peyton teased, leaning back into the chair and running her fingers through her hair. It was nice to talk to him like this. Sex is nothing short of amazing, but Puck was also one of her best friends before this. And contrary to what a lot of people believe, their whatever ship was more being together than just hot sex. “I may regret the salad.”

“It’s like a minor league player being called up to the majors. Time for his big debut,” he joked. He smirked and pulled out his phone, pulling up the photos that McKenna sent him. “The black looked pretty damn good. But I think she made the right move going with the white,” he said as he slid his phone across the table for her to look at. Grabbing his knife, he cut his chicken sandwich in half. He took the untouched half and placed it on Peyton’s plate. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell. There’s lettuce and tomato on it so it’s like…kinda healthy.” Leaning back in his seat, he popped a couple of fries into his mouth.

She raised a brow as she looked down at the photos, nodding to herself and agreeing in Puck’s assessment. “I can’t argue with that. The white was really hot... Best wrong text you’ve ever received?” She laughed and slid the phone back to Puck across the table. Her eyes widened when half of the sandwich was placed on her plate, and it was yet another thing she wasn’t going to argue with. “It can be our secret,” she muttered, reaching down to take a bite of food that didn’t taste like rabbits food and humming contently as it hits her mouth. “I take back everything I said about wanting to eat healthy. I’ll just stick to running and pacing nervously through my house.” Peyton picked up the coffee cup, holding it firmly between her hands as she let the last couple of sips of caffeine get into her. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me today,” she said quietly, placing it down and brushing her hair behind her ear. In habit more than anything else.

Puck looked at her and shook his head. “Studying burns a shit ton of calories or something like that. I dunno. I never really studied so I always had to go to the gym,” he joked as he finished the rest of his food. Pushing the plate away from him, he leaned back in his chair and gestured for the check from the passing waiter. “You don’t gotta make it sound like this was pure torture for me. I like seeing you. This wasn’t a business meeting. It was just us hanging out,” he replied. Puck pulled out his wallet to pay for their lunch, giving the waiter his credit card and waving him off before Peyton could try to pay for herself. “Next time we should hang when neither of us have to go back to work or studying.” He thanked the waiter and signed the receipt before pocketing his card. Standing up, he offered her his hand. “Ready to roll?”

Peyton sighed softly, really wishing he didn’t read into everything she said like that. It was just a thank you. She might have been okay, but it seemed like he was still waiting for her to say the wrong thing. “I invited you out to lunch. And I ate half of your food... I really should have paid for lunch,” she pointed out with an eye roll. Accepting his hand, she stood up from the booth and followed him out of the restaurant. “Can we not go this long again without seeing each other?” She asked once outside, reaching her free hand up and brushing her thumb over his cheek gently. “I guess I should go back to studying,” she muttered as she stood to her toes and pressed her lips against his cheek lovingly. “Don’t be a stranger, Puck.”

#para #para: peyton #para: nals #askmepara

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yeetdam · 5 years

Text

stars after the rain ☾ yedam

genre – romance, soulmate au

synopsis – set in a universe where everyone is born with two names tattooed on their skin. one name stands for their soulmate, the other for their potential killer. no one knows which person inked on them is their other half and which is their downfall, but that has never been an issue to you. after all, you were born with just one name. and, well, there’s only one way to interpret that.

wc – 8.3k

a/n – this is a completely self-indulgent fic pls forgive me this mess contains everything i dream of: best friend doyoung antics, slow burn-ish vibes and a cheesy rendition of the slow dance scene on the rooftop from high school musical 3 :’) either way, i hope you’ll enjoy this and pls lmk if there are any mistakes or if u have some feedback uwu

It’s bound to end in a tragedy when Doyoung barges into your room without any warning and sees it for the first time.

“That’s a cool place to have a tattoo,” he admits and points at the back of his neck when you turn to him with an irritated expression. The realization crashes onto you like an atomic bomb the moment you subconsciously mimic his movement and slide your hand up the back of your neck.

“Oh.”

In the blink of an eye, you frantically rummage through your drawers for your foundation. Lately, there’s been many things clouding your mind, be it the many exams you can’t afford to fail or the abnormal number of complaints Hyunsuk has sent you in a span of three hours. It’s not the first time for you to drown in all kinds of duties, but it seems like the pressure has got into your head worse than usual. You never fail to cover the ink on the back of your neck with either turtlenecks or foundation, so it just fuels your frustration when Doyoung sheds light on it.

“Hey, relax! We can join the party a little later, so take your time,” he says and puts a firm hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you. “Uh, do you want me to help? It must be hard blending that in every day.”

You snort. “First of all, I am relaxed. Second of all, I don’t do this every day, but I manage perfectly on my own.”

“Jesus Christ,” Doyoung sighs and retreats his hand, “I was just trying to be the empathetic best friend. But jokes aside, it really is a cool place to have your tattoo. My thigh can’t relate.”

“As much as I love being your best friend and am willing to listen to your problems anytime–” you successfully find the bottle and squirt a generous amount of foundation on the beauty blender, “–even that is too much information for me. What should I know next? Your other tattoo is on your butt?”

There is nothing wrong with covering up the tattoos you are born with. It’s not socially frowned upon if someone doesn’t make any efforts to hide the ink. In the end, it all boils down to your personal preference. You know a handful of people who waltz around with both of their names on display, and you are relatively sure that Doyoung would be one of them if his tattoos were on an appropriate part of his body.

“Haha. Funny,” Doyoung deadpans before he whips out his phone. “I meant what I said, take your time. Plus, I realized I still gotta call someone.”

“Give me five.” You hum and apply the liquid on your skin. He exits your room and makes sure that the door falls softly in its lock to give you a moment of peace. A frown paves its way onto your face as you build up the coverage until there is no trace of black on your neck.

Showing the inked names on your skin and just talking about the concept of soulmates in general isn’t a social taboo. However, there are quite a few people who rather avoid the topic at hand, including you. Truth be told, every cell in your body knows that Doyoung is dying to discuss this topic with you and there are too many moments you recall where he looks as if he’s about to explode if he doesn’t bring up his soulmate. However, he never did that. Doyoung wears his heart on his sleeve and so do you, but here’s the thing: Doyoung is better at swallowing them down.

So as his best friend, the least you can do is go with him to that one goddamn party even though there are other things you’d rather do at this late hour of the day.

(A prime example of what you’d rather do is giving Hyunsuk a piece of your mind because receiving fifty-seven emails about not understanding biology, whining about the new TA and his harsh grading and inquiries about what to get Seunghun for his birthday in the span of three hours is not okay.)

Whenever you go out in public, you are usually seen with a turtleneck or a scarf. Covering up your tattoo with a foundation is your plan c) when desperate times call for desperate measures. Also, there is a reason why you barely go to parties.

Parties fall under desperate times.

Although there isn’t anything in Yeji’s house that is illegal to consume, the living room is sweltering hot, the music obnoxiously loud, and the entire scenario is equivalent to a frat party minus the alcohol, drugs, and making out.

Instead, a dozen bottles of pretty much every soft drink you can find from the convenience store just three blocks away and a broad selection of chips and chocolate and cake are found on the tables.

“Wanna bet that you could never finish cola with salt in one go?” Jaehyuk suggestively raises a brow at Doyoung and holds up the red cup in his hand.

“If I win, you owe me bubble tea for an entire month. Wherever and whenever I want.” You fight the urge to smack yourself as you see the sneaky grin etched on Doyoung’s lips. For a moment, you debate whether to stand up your comfortable position on the couch and knock some sense into him. But then again, you remind yourself why you’re even here in the first place. Though you know most of the people here, you don’t really talk to them. Doyoung was your only friend present.

You’re only here for Doyoung’s sake. You’re going to let him have fun and let him regret his life decisions in the aftermath.

“Aren’t you feeling lonely here?” you divert your eyes from Doyoung to the guy who drops himself on the couch beside you. He’s a new face, you figure, dressed in an unbuttoned, red flannel shirt, a black graphic tee underneath and ripped skinny jeans. Strands of jet black hair fall into his face, but they fail to hide the genuine twinkle in his eyes as the corners of his lips subtly tug upwards.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you mumble and are very glad that you’re no longer focused on Doyoung if you consider the gagging sounds he’s emitting, “I’m not a huge fan of these kinds of occasions.”

“Let me guess,” he muses and takes a sip out of his cup, “That guy forced you here?”

A chuckle escapes your lips when he points at Jaehyuk who’s laughing maliciously at a kneeling Doyoung.

“Actually, it’s the guy who looks like he needs life support, but close enough.” you lift a brow at the flannel guy. “Is there a reason why you’re staring at me like that?”

He shrugs in response. “I’m just happy that I managed to lift up your spirits a little bit.”

There it is again, the glimmer in his eyes. You can’t lay a finger on what exactly it is, whether it’s playfulness or an underlying risk. All you know is that it's a gamble. You either take the leap or you keep it safe. It’s not the first time that you end up in such a situation, but this time, it’s a little but different. The only thing that is stopping you is the uncertainty of reading him.

But maybe, maybe it’s not that bad.

“You know,” you start and fiddle with your fingers, “I’m fairly sure that you’re the only one who can enlighten me here.”

Your hunch is proven right. It is not that bad. Not bad at all, actually.

For the next hour, you two stay seated on the couch and talk about all kinds of things. Sometimes, when you bother to care, you laugh at some mishaps that occur right in front of your eyes, like Chaeryeong tripping over her own feet before she crashes into Mashiho and makes him fall flat on his face.

“Wanna grab something to drink?” he asks after a while and swirls the last few ounces of liquid in his cup. “Besides, I think I need a refill.”

“Sure,” you reply and you both enter the kitchen. The room is empty apart from the two of you, and though you can still hear the music blasting through the closed door, your ears don’t ache as much anymore.

While you grab ahold of one of the opened bottles of cherry cola and pour it into an unused red cup, you watch him roll up the sleeves of his flannel from the corner of your eye. He has pretty hands, you figure, and maybe it would’ve been better if you didn’t stare at them for so long. It’s only a subtle flick of his wrist as he fixes his sleeves, but you don’t fail to notice fine black lines on his left wrist.

Before you ponder longer about it, he asks you, “Hey, can you pass me the cherry cola?”

You nod wordlessly and hand him the bottle and don’t leave his hand movements out of your sight. Once in a while, your eyes flit to the fridge behind him, to the few strands of jet black hair that sick out messily or to his eyes. Curiosity has never been a trait that really defines you, but sometimes, you can’t help but try to decode the name on his wrist.

Still oblivious to your underlying intentions, he continues rambling about his favorite music producers. “Cha Cha Malone has this really distinctive tone in his productions…” he places the edge of his cup on his lips with his left hand and suddenly, your blood runs cold.

Though there is the slight possibility that you are suffering from hallucinations, you are pretty damn sure it is not an illusion. The kitchen sheds enough light to see everything clearly, from the slight bags under his eyes to the coffee stains on the table. The lights aren’t blinding, but they’re enough to decipher the fine black lines inked on his left wrist.

Your name.

“... and I feel that– hey, you look like you saw a ghost. Is everything alright?” he furrows his brows in concern, but when he follows the trail where you’re looking at, he gets the gist. You notice him tense up and are pretty sure it’s not a trick of the light when he pales, something akin to guilt paints his face.

“Come to think of it,” you mumble and avert your eyes from his wrist. “I didn't catch your name. Who are you?”

He hesitates, chews on his bottom lips first before he answers. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights and it just fuels your thought that the worst case scenario has become a reality. You hope it isn’t what you think it is.

“I’m Bang Yedam.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to force any coherent words past your lips. A shiver runs down your spine, and though there is less to be scared of because your name is inked on his wrist too, you're still wary. Obviously, the one who is destined to end your life won't have your name tattooed on them.

But with your circumstances, you can't help but include that possibility.

Yedam doesn't hide his panic anymore as he tries to justify himself. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself earlier, (y/n). Doyoung told me not to–"

"Doyoung? What does Doyoung have to do with this?"

When all you're met with is silence, you ask again with something akin to fury laced in your tone. "I said, what does Doyoung have to do with this?"

He diverts his gaze to the counter behind you with pursed lips. Knowing that he won't spill the truth, you try to find the remaining puzzle pieces to complete the mystery by yourself. Your efforts are in vain though, because there is nothing you remember that could serve as a link to what Yedam said–

("I realized I still gotta call someone.")

"I need to go," you say when it dawns on you and you set the cup on the table. A jumble of emotions rages in you, be it the anger that flows through your veins or the whirlwind of irritation and disappointment and despair flooding your senses. You don't stop when Yedam calls after you and tries to make you stay.

You rush into the living room to grab your belongings, completely ignoring Doyoung who is still oblivious to your discovery. It's when he takes a closer look at your trembling hands and pessimistic face that the joy falls from his face.

"Hey, why are you leaving already?" he asks, concern laced in his voice as he tries to touch you, but you swat his hand away.

You huff. "Mind your own business, I really don't appreciate your stunt."

"What?" he furrows his brows and tries to figure out the meaning of your words. "I don't understand–"

"(y/n), please don't go– oh God." Yedam slows down to a halt at the sight of you and Doyoung. The boy beside you widens his eyes when he sees Yedam and then, the realization strikes him like lightning.

"O-oh, that was what you're talking about. Look, I can explain–"

You don't stay a while longer to hear his reasoning.

There is a reason why Doyoung has been your best friend for so long. It isn't the first time for you to fight and if you're being honest, your ego isn't that big to not forgive him. Doyoung can be awfully nosy and loves to stick his nose into someone else's business. Therefore, it doesn't surprise you that you invite him over on an afternoon after he left fifty voice messages and over a hundred text messages in your inbox.

"Please don't start your explanation with 'I was trying to do you a favor'." you sigh in distress.

"I was trying to do you a favor," he bluntly says and it costs you your willpower to not invite him out of your place. Doyoung sends you a crooked grin before he turns serious. "Okay, real talk now. I was just... surprised when I saw Yedam's name on your neck. And since I already knew that one of Yedam's tattoos is your name, I thought it'd be a good idea to make you two meet. Turns out to be that I was a fool."

"You're always a fool, please," you deadpan and snicker when he shoots you a death glare.

"Hey! I was trying to be an empathetic best friend here! I just breathed and here you are, clowning me. That is disrespectful!"

He attempts to throw you off your chair by aiming a pillow at you. Instead, he almost knocks down the succulent on your desk. The next few minutes, you bicker for a while and start an impromptu tickle fight to lighten up the mood. It's when you both lie on the carpeted floor and your heartbeats have fallen back into a steady rhythm that he addresses the problem at hand.

"Why don't you want to give him a chance?"

"My gut says it won't end well," you reply slowly.

Doyoung shuffles to the side to get a good glimpse of your face. "You know, the chance is high that Yedam's your soulmate. He's got your name too, after all. And he's willing to give it a shot, y'know? One meeting doesn't sound bad and won't be the end of the world."

You hesitate, considering the implied proposal with a frown. "It's complicated."

"So you're willing to let the glorious chance pass by?"

"Yes."

Taken aback by your rapid answer, Doyoung adds in a quieter tone, "Not many people manage to find even one of the two people. Even less find the one who wears their names too. You should definitely consider it, (y/n)."

"I get where you're coming from, but..." your voice trails off.

Doyoung watches you with expectant eyes. "But?" he drawls.

But you don't understand.

"You're not gonna stop bugging me until I say yes, are you?" you say instead. Although you'd trust your life to him, you don't want to burden him with your tattoo dilemma. He may not let it show too much, but you know he has his worries and he doesn't need to break his head about the meaning of your only tattoo too.

"Do you want the truth or a fabrication of lies?" he asks with a suggestively raised brow, making you roll his eyes at his silliness.

"Fine, I'll meet up with him one time. He shouldn't get his hopes up, though."

For some reason, you find yourself walking into the café fifteen minutes earlier. You blame it on the fact that there surprisingly was no traffic jam, although it's rush hour. As it turns out, you're not the only one to arrive earlier than expected, because Yedam enters the coffee shop five minutes after you.

He notices you right away, seated in between red and black cushions at the far back of the room, but doesn't steer towards you instantly. Instead, he stands in line and orders two drinks before he approaches you. An uncertain, shy smile adorns his face and contrary to the first time you met him, he's different. His hands shake so much that he spills one cup a little bit when he sets them down and he can't bring it over himself to look you in the eye. Yedam's treading lightly, abnormally careful about his own actions.

"I got you hot chocolate. I hope you don't mind," he mumbles and slides the cup towards you.

There's the need to tell him not to worry and loosen up. However, you don't manage to do so. What you do manage is a quiet "thanks" before you take a sip of it.

Well, at least Doyoung wasn't lying when he said that the café served delicious beverages.

Awkward, heavy and pressuring don't even come remotely close to describe the silence hovering above you. Even an innocent bystander can tell that neither of you is exactly comfortable in your shoes.

"So." Yedam's ears perk up when you clear your throat. "You wanted to meet me."

"Yeah…" his voice trails off as he taps his fingers on his paper cup. This time, he's wearing a blue wool sweater with sleeves so long they cover up his palms. You fight the urge to ask him if you could see his left wrist.

"Uh, give me a second to mentally prepare myself." he stammers before he starts anew. "I'm going to be honest here. I was happy when Doyoung called me and said he knew someone who wore my name. I had a great time that night and I, um, guess that things wouldn't have ended like that if you figured it out in a different manner."

"I'm going to be honest too," you confess. "I had a lot of fun that night, well, before it started to go downhill. It's just, I don't think I'll be able to cope with this." You gesture on your own wrist.

Something that hits very close to desperation is written on his face. For the first time, he looks at you directly and tries to read you. "Listen, I'm not trying to force anything on you. I know not everyone cares about the marks and that's fine. I just..."

He hesitates, tries to find the right words. Judging by the tone of his voice and the quiet sigh that escapes his lips, you know he doesn't belong to the group of people who don't care, unlike you – and he is very well aware of that too.

"You just?" you probe. Though you are quite sure what words will follow next, you need to hear them come out of his own mouth.

Yedam glances at you unsurely, wariness audible in his voice when he speaks up. "I was just hoping to, uh, get to know you. It doesn't have to be something long lasting, I swear. If you feel uncomfortable, we can break it off at any time. I was hoping that we could at least try."

There are many, many red lights blinking in your mind. This suggestion is nothing more than a very, very bad idea. In your case, the journey doesn't even matter. It doesn't matter if you end up being more than friends. What matters is the result. And, well, the result is inevitable.

Amongst the many, many stop signs that practically scream DON'T DO IT, there is one brain cell that begs to differ. Yedam looks at you expectantly, pleadingly even. His desperation is visible in his eyes as if they held stardust which reflects his every emotion.

You inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to steady your frantic heartbeat. It's bound to end in a tragedy and you should care more, but you don’t have the heart to reject him.

Hopefully, you don't sound so unconvinced and scared when you respond.

"Trying sounds good."

Yedam is careful. He's so careful it genuinely surprises you. He doesn't push you to anything, works his way to more personal questions (though so far, the most personal question he's asked you was how long you've been friends with Doyoung) and tries his best to cater everything to your needs. It's by the fifth time you meet up in person when he finds the courage to ask for your number. Truth be told, you can practically see him pondering five minutes about each text he writes before sending it to you. The absence of emojis in his messages just confirm how nervous he still is.

It's still awkward when you talk and most of the time, it's Yedam who asks questions. Yet he's quick to pick up certain likes and dislikes, like your favorite ice cream flavor or your least favorite type of music.

It goes without saying that Doyoung practically demands regular updates. He was over the moon when you told him how your first date ended and even paid you bubble tea. That was how happy he was for you.

"He's not as bad as expected," you say as you nonchalantly look for good Netflix movies to watch.

Doyoung snorts in response. "Of course I knew that already. I've known Yedam for a good while now and seriously, all he does is sing the High School Musical soundtrack and swoon about music producers."

"He sings?"

You practically feel Doyoung rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "Duh. That guy's a singing god. But you have my word, (y/n), I'll end him and twist out his intestines if he hurts you. You really don't have anything to worry about."

"The only thing I worry about is you becoming a potential murderer," you say in a monotonous voice. (In a way, it’s ironic, given how there is bound to be someone who wears Doyoung’s name with the negative connotation.)

That causes your best friend to laugh in an exaggerated manner. "Very funny. In all seriousness though–" he grabs a handful of chips and stuffs it in his mouth, "–how do you not know that he sings? Even though you know he produces his own songs? I thought you talk lots."

"The thing is–" you shuffle to the side and hope he won't spit any crumbs on you, "–he's the one who talks. I just listen and answer his questions."

Doyoung sends you an unbelievable look that's equivalent to 'Are you serious?' "Then ask some questions back, you fool!"

"I don't know what to ask though!"

"What? You truly are unbelievable." he groans and throws his head back. "I guess I have to step up my game and help out a poor soul, huh?"

You throw him an offended look. "I am not an imbecile!"

"I never said that, dumbass," he tuts. "But back to the point. Yedam likes music, just recommend him some songs and he's gonna love you. Or have a High School Musical marathon with him. For all I know, attend a concert with him or just let him show you his own songs– the possibilities are endless! You always meet up at that café and although it's nice and cozy there, it's getting boring. If you only knew how panicky Yedam gets when I bring you up in our conversations: pitiful! That's what it is!"

"I don't know if that'd be a good idea–"

"Listen, I have no idea why you are so against getting close to him and since we already had this talk, I'm not gonna bring it up again. But for the love of God, if you already agree on trying, then put in some effort yourself!" he exclaims and with every word, his hand gestures become bigger. It even reaches the point where you're certain that he's going to hit you in the face.

Nonetheless, he’s right. You desperately need to step up your game.

Yedam is confused when you send him a link while he’s talking about something you don’t bother listening to. His irritation is visible in his scrunched brows, in the way his gaze switches from you, then back to his phone, and in the little hitch in his voice.

“They say your music taste tells a lot by yourself.” you shrug and try to sound as casual as possible. “And, uh, perhaps I heard that you like listening to new songs.”

The confusion morphs into a small yet genuine smile once he sees that it’s a link to a Spotify playlist. “You’re not wrong about that. While we’re at it, here.”

Your phone vibrates, signifying a new text message. Just like him, you fail to hide your amusement when you see the link to his own Spotify playlist, followed by a SoundCloud profile.

“Let me guess, the SoundCloud one is where you post your own music?” you joke lightly but when you look up and meet Yedam’s bewildered expression, you gulp. “Did I say something insensitive?”

Yedam hastily shakes his head. “No, not at all! I’m just surprised that you remembered that I produce some songs too.”

“I mean, it’s hard not to forget that when Doyoung gushed about that for a good hour and you like to swoon about how much of an idol Cha Cha Malone is to you.”

He looks at you with a stunned expression. “Do I really talk that often about him?”

“No. I just remembered that, that’s all.” you smile lightly. Regardless of whether or not Yedam buys it, the apples of his cheeks are dusted red and he looks down as if he hopes for the floor to swallow him whole.

Quickly realizing that the atmosphere might turn into an embarrassingly long and awkward silence, you scroll through the Spotify playlist and chuckle when you recognize songs you haven’t heard in a while yet.

“Do you have something against my music taste?” Yedam asks, partly wary, partly sounding as if he was ready to brawl.

“No, of course not!” you explain once you calm down. “It’s just, it’s been a while since I heard the Jonas Brothers. Also, uh, I’ve never seen High School Musical and you have a lot of songs in it.”

Yedam looks like he's about to jump out of the window and his eyeballs might have fallen out of its sockets after your confession.

"What did you even do in your childhood?" He acts as if it was an unforgivable crime and then adds with conviction, "First of all, the entire soundtrack is on the playlist. Second of all, what are you waiting for? We need to catch up with things you should've done when you were a child!"

“What are you–” Before you get to finish your thoughts, he grabs ahold of your hand and leads you out of the café. “Where are we going?”

“My place,” he replies without looking back at you as he picks up his pace. “You need to watch all movies. I refuse to leave you uncultured.”

Your attempts of not having to watch any of the films prove themselves futile. That, and the other, unexpectedly childlike side of him make you stay. Even if you planned on running away, you couldn’t anyway. With the way your hands are intertwined, it’s hard to do so. Though by now you’re practically rushing down streets and occasionally bump into a pedestrian or two, the incredulous look on their faces when they see you hand in hand is something you don’t miss.

You don’t know whether the feeling bubbling in your gut should feel warm.

When Doyoung said that Yedam knew every single song from High School Musical, he meant every single song.

You tried, you really tried to pay attention to the storyline. However, it’s not that easy when five minutes into the movie, the first song comes up and Yedam belts out every single note in a theatrical way. You find yourself anticipating the next song so he’ll sing more rather than the actual plot progression.

When Doyoung said that Yedam could sing, he meant he could sing. It would’ve been nice of him if he had warned you beforehand how angelic Yedam’s voice was because your jaw dropped to the floor the moment he started to sing. You didn’t know what you expected, but you certainly did not expect to be swept off the ground in a span of 0.08998 seconds.

“Did I just ruin your fun?” Yedam asks carefully, a bashful smile plastered on his face once the first song came to an end.

The question startles you and you blink at him in awe before you feel the heat creep up your cheeks. “What? No! I mean, no. I was just surprised that your voice is that nice,” you manage to choke out.

His smile widens, and your face flushes a deep red.

“So you don’t mind me singing along?”

“I prefer your voice over that guy right there…” you pause. “Wait, what? Forget what I said.”

“Me? Forgetting that? You wish,” he beams and erupts in laughter when you cover your face with your hands. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll sing along.”

You find yourself listening to Yedam singing anything your heart desires many times after.

While you still have no idea what exactly the plot of High School Musical is up until now, you indulge in the heavenly voice of your human jukebox even more with every passing day.

Depending on his mood, you discover the many facets of his personality. On days where he’s tired and you happen to stop by just because you’re casually in the neighborhood, he shows you his self composed songs. Although the bags under his eyes are impossible to miss, he keeps his head held up high and urges you to comment on all of his songs despite rather wanting to hide under the covers.

On days where you’re tired and happen to be lounging on his couch, he loves to lull you to sleep. His voice is soft and gentle, just like his hands playing with your hair as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Then there are days where it seems as if stole the sun’s job or had drunk too many energy drinks and jumps around like a lunatic while belting out the melody of My Heart Will Go On.

Today seems like a day where he’s just emitting happiness.

Truth be told, you don’t know when exactly you’ve let down your guard. The current scenario is too sickeningly domestic for your liking – with you leaning your head on his shoulder while his arm is lazily draped around you. The third installment of High School Musical running on screen doesn’t quite suit your taste either, yet you don’t make any amends to put some distance between you.

“Do you know how to dance?” Yedam asks casually, eyes glued on the screen. Currently, Troy and Gabriella are at the school rooftop and it seems as if the next song is going to start soon.

Your eyes narrow at him. “What are you planning?”

“I’ll take it as a no. But that’s fine too.”

“Yedam, seriously, what are you planning?”

There’s a gleeful twinkle in his eyes when he faces you. Before you can ask again, he stands up and pulls you up with him.

“Just trust me on this. It’ll be fun,” he interrupts you in the middle of your doubts. That shuts you up for good, yet it doesn’t hinder you from sending him warning glares.

You stay blissfully unaware of his ulterior motives until he firmly grabs one hand and puts your other on his shoulder, followed by planting his free hand on your waist. He shoots you a fond and reassuring smile to soothe your panicked self. Then slowly and surely, the first guitar strums come out of the speakers before Gabriella starts singing in the background.

A quick glance behind Yedam to the screen, where the lovestruck couple is also in the same position as you, is enough to let you know in which direction this is heading to.

“No. No. No. I can’t dance, much less slow dance–”

“I’ll guide you. Just keep your eyes on me,” he muses and tilts your chin so you lock eyes.

There are so many cells in you that are screaming at you to look away, but you’re unable to do so. There’s something behind the fragments of fondness in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher, but either way, you get lost in his eyes and your breath hitches.

“Let me guide you,” he repeats in a tone that makes you melt in a matter of seconds. You’re pretty sure your legs would’ve given up at this point if it weren’t for him who takes a step back and tugs you with him.

It goes without saying that you feel like a newborn baby deer that’s still clumsy on its legs. In the first few tries, you’re uncoordinated, stiff as a board and step on his toes a few times, and you’re not able to look away from him. He winces when you misplace your foot and you shoot him an apologetic look in return, but after some time, you get the hang out of it. Midway through the song, your legs no longer feel as if they’re going to mutate into jelly as you sway through the expanse of his living room.

“Look, you’re doing just fine,” Yedam reassures warmly before a grin etches across his lips; as if he just came up with a brilliant masterplan. “Wanna try a spin?”

“No,” you shoot out like a bullet and cause him to giggle. “This is enough for today.”

“Fine then, maybe next time.”

The rest of the song is spent in comfortable silence, warm smiles and occasionally knocking over a book or two when you happen to bump against the shelf. When the song comes to a slow end, you find yourself coming to a standstill. It’s just then when you realized how dangerously close Yedam really is. His breath hits your lips and you pick up the slight scent of spearmint.

You’re not the only one who notices. Yedam’s gaze switches from your eyes to your lips. Confliction is prominent in his face. Even though you’ve grown more comfortable around him, a feeling similar to home even, he’s aware he can’t cross all your limits yet. He doesn’t dare to prod further, lean a little bit closer and you know he’s wordlessly giving you the shots.

At this point, your heart practically hammers against your chest and you wouldn’t put it past him to hear it too. Perhaps, you’re in too deep and for a moment, you slowly move closer until it’s just a matter of a few millimeters separating you.

That is until you’re aware of the fact that you’re clinging onto his hand as if he were your lifeline. The realization causes a knot in your stomach. Suddenly, the doubts flash your mind; the fear that initially overcame you when you first met him at the party, when you found out who Yedam was.

There’s nothing wrong with Yedam. He’s nice and talented and genuinely cares. Yet at the same time, you’re not certain if there’s nothing wrong with him. You can’t be fully certain of him and that realization strikes you like lightning once more.

You try to ignore the sadness that washes over him for a short moment when you pull away.

“I’m sorry. It’s just a little complicated to explain,” you mumble apologetically.

“It’s fine,” he replies in the same manner.

There’s no doubt that you can see the genuineness in his eyes, but you can’t tell whether he was really telling the truth or was trying to manipulate himself into thinking that it truly is fine for him.

Surprisingly, as well as to your luck, he doesn’t bring up the episode again. In fact, he acts as if it never happened and honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You’ve become a little more cautious ever since, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him performing a little bit of skinship on you. He still sings for you, proudly shows you his latest songs and becomes cozy around you whenever you watch a movie.

Just like any other day you’re at his place, you’re sitting on the couch and currently scrolling mindlessly through your inbox while Yedam is on the other end of the couch.

“I really like you.”

You hope you misheard what he said. Yes, you definitely misheard it, you’re positive of that. The intensity of his gaze when your eyes meet begs to differ though.

Honestly, the day was bound to come sooner or later. After all, you’re not that oblivious. Yedam is similar to you, you like to think – he wears his heart on his sleeve. But whereas you let your bad sides show, he puts all the good in him on display.

“How are you so sure that we’re soulmates? Do you have any other reason besides the fact that I wear your name too?” you ask after a moment of silence. It costs you your entire willpower to not lash out on him and say once more that you’re not interested in something more than what you already have, but he wouldn’t believe that.

And frankly, you’re not sure if you would believe yourself either.

“I do,” he responds, voice full of conviction. “I say it so easily because I found the other person already, and I know that he’s not my soulmate.”

“Again, what makes you so certain about that?”

Yedam purses his lips and hesitates before he sits directly next to you. He opens his mouth several times, but no words come out.

Then suddenly, without any verbal warning whatsoever, he turns to you completely and tugs on the collar of his sweater, pulling it so far down until he exposes a strip of skin underneath his left collarbone.

You gape at the sight, hope you’re hallucinating. You really hope this is just a trick of the light. It must be one.

The pitch black ink contrasts with his skin, and though the letters are fine lines and easy to miss if you don’t pay attention, the name leaves a burning image in your head and a foul taste in your mouth.

Kim Doyoung.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to kill me if he really wants to. And trust me, he’ll definitely have a reason to do so.” Yedam chuckles dryly as he covers the tattoo.

Although you already know the answer, you ask flabbergasted. “Does he know?”

“That I wear his name? Unless he wears mine, which I highly doubt, no. He would’ve confronted me about this by now if he knew.”

It explains a lot. No, it explains everything. It explains why Yedam oozed confidence and was sure that you were bound to last a lifetime. It explains why he looks at you as if you were the center of his world without a doubt. It explains why he’s not afraid of you. He’s only been treading lightly because of you.

You sneak another glance at him and the sight causes something in you to break. Yedam is sitting right beside you, watching you carefully and pleadingly even. The specks of glimmer he holds in his eyes, the ones that reveal his feelings, aren’t even specks anymore. They’ve dissolved and you’re looking right through him. He wears his emotions on full display now, the desperation is prominent more than ever.

He’s treading lightly yet is needy for an answer and slowly reaches out for your hand. Before it can get so far, you turn away from him and croak out a weak “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t trust me?” you wince at the hurt laced in the undertone of his voice.

“It has nothing to do with me trusting you. It’s me, okay? It’s just–”

“–complicated, I get it,” he spits out the words as if they were acid and suddenly, the couch feels much lighter.

“Yedam, I didn’t mean it like that!” you stand up and grab the hem of his sweater in an attempt to bring him to a standstill. “I’m sorry.”

Yedam stands still, but he doesn’t turn around to meet you. He takes in a deep breath and sighs audibly, but you don’t miss the hitch in his breath as if he’s trying to contain something else.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–” he pauses, stabilizes his shaky pitch before he reaches back and detaches your grip, “Nevermind.”

He leaves you alone in his living room and it costs you your entire energy to not break down onto the floor.

He doesn’t text you anymore and as much as you itch to contact him, you don’t muster up the courage to actually do it.

Doyoung also noticed the shift in your relationship. Fortunately, he doesn’t pry further and never brings up Yedam in your conversations. You’ve never told him any details but you’re relatively sure that Yedam said some things to him.

Either way, Doyoung remains a great friend. He tries his best to lift up your spirits – even bought you a gallon of your favorite ice cream flavor along with a lifetime supply of candy of all sorts. Once he realized that his wallet was suffering, he resorted to cooking your favorite food, even if that almost resulted in him burning down the kitchen.

However, as much as Doyoung might distract you from your pity party, he’s not a permanent fix. You know it and he knows it. Therefore, it really doesn’t faze you when he brings up the last person you’d want on your mind (to your dismay, he’s the only person on your mind).

“He’s also miserable right now, you know?”

When you don’t respond, he sighs and drops on the seat next to you, seeing it as his cue to continue. “He’s waiting for your call. I don’t know what went down between the two of you, but you better sort it out. Not only am I running out of ideas to get you out of your house, but I’m also pretty sure you two will end up as living corpses if you don’t fix it soon.”

You lift up your head and purse your lips. “It’s not going to end well.”

“You always say that.” he rolls his eyes, sounding more fed up this time. “Yedam didn’t tell me a lot and I know you get turn hyperventilated whenever it comes to your tattoos, so I’m not going ask about that. I never did and never will, get it? All I know is that Yedam dished out his soulmate situation from start to finish. You should trust him too, wholeheartedly.”

“I would’ve done that if I could a long time ago!”

“If I could,” he mimics, two octaves higher than your actual tone, “You can! I don’t want to guilt trip you or anything, but it’s only fair if he knows too. He’s poured his heart out to you, why can’t you do the same? Just think like this: say we live in a world where soulmate tattoos don’t exist, would you like him?”

“I…” your voice trails off.

Seemingly satisfied with your reaction, Doyoung sighs and stands up.

“I think you know the answer too. Talk to him, please.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never invited Yedam over to your place. That’s about to change when you send him your address and find him at your doorstep later in the evening. The sun is long gone and in its place shines the moon along with the stars. Their light is enough to taint your living room in a soft glow and it’s enough to notice every single one of his features.

He’s tired, looks like he hasn’t slept well in days, yet frankly, there’s something oddly comforting about his presence.

“You called?” he asks to break the ice.

Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. You could’ve also practiced weeks before but you doubt you’d ever get rid of the uncertainty laced in your shaky voice when you start to talk about that topic.

You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves. “I realized something. You never asked to see my tattoo.” It’s not what you rehearsed, but as long as it leads to the point, it’s alright.

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” he responds.

You observe his expression, narrow your eyes in a brief moment of contemplation before you slowly undo the scarf you’re wearing. Yedam is quick to guess where this is heading to and quickly stammers, “Wait, you don’t have to justify yourself in front of me!”

“No, I want to,” you say with conviction and turn around so he can see the black ink at the back of your neck. Although the room is just dimly lit, you know that he can see it clearly. For a moment, you get goosebumps as his fingers ghost over the ink, but you let him bask in his fascination.

“The truth is, this is the only tattoo I was born with,” you confess after a moment of silence.

He gulps. “What?”

“I only wear your name, Yedam. You’re smart, I’m sure you understand the weight of that.” You turn around but don’t find the courage nor the energy to look him in the eye. The silence is heavy, unbearable, and literally nothing about it lifts the pressure off your shoulders. You don’t need to see him to know how the revelation shatters his view on everything in millions of shards.

“Look at me, please,” he pleads instead, and when you shake your head in response, he gently cups your face. You have no other choice but to do as and are startled when all you see is not pure horror, but soft, pure and wholehearted adoration in him.

“God, (y/n), I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Believe me when I say you mean so much to me. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to have you voluntarily open up to me. and now that I see the situation from your view, I get why you were so unwilling at first. But trust me when I say I only want the best for you and would never put you in danger.” The raw vulnerability in his voice makes you believe him for a while and keeps you from breaking out in tears.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I do know that. Did you already forget? Doyoung is my potential killer,” he says matter-of-factly and sends you a broken smile, “So before I kill you, I’ll make sure that he ends me first.”

“Great, and then my best friend ends up in jail.”

This time, he genuinely laughs. You, on the other hand, can’t bite down the small smile that paves its way on your lips from that weak joke.

“You’re right, I can’t guarantee your safety from me,” Yedam admits once he’s calmed down and tucks a strand of your hair in place before he goes on, “But I can guarantee that I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy. Have you even looked at my SoundCloud profile? Ever since I met you the majority of my releases are love songs!”

“So you admit that the songs are all about me?” you playfully raise a brow at him.

“Of course they’re all about you.” he breathes out as if the weight on his shoulders was lifted off of him. Yedam still looks like he could need some sleep, but there is no longer a sign of restlessness. He is at ease, and it shows the most when he adds fondly, “It doesn’t have to last forever. We can break it off if you feel unsafe. I hope we can at least try.”

The course of this conversation is oddly reminiscent to your first date in the café, you think. Back then, you were more than convinced that the only way this would end was as a tragedy. Back then, you just said your answer out of pity, one might say. But that was back then, and this time, you’re more than serious and more than convinced when you respond with a smile.

“Trying sounds good.”

289 notes · View notes

jungwoohoos · 5 years

Text

uni!hoseok

genre: fluff

word count: 2.2k

he really does look like linguini when he dances, but you guess you can’t resist that

You weren’t a party virgin per se

There was that one time the second weekend of first year that you went out with your roommate

She had met someone the night before and said he would give you two an in

How did she get someone’s number so quickly?? You didn’t understand

You once asked for someone’s email instead because the thought of asking for someone’s number was so personal

Your project group got a little annoyed that they had to email you everything they had already discussed in the group chat

But you always made sure to use the cute emojis that look like blobs of honey, so everything was good and your members didn’t annihilate you in the evaluation reports

Anyway, you lasted 20 minutes max at that party

It was a house party, but everyone was milling around in the backyard, which was nearly pitch black and really patchy

You could barely see your feet, so you had no idea how anyone could see who they were talking to

Everyone was also wearing hawaiian shirts

“Oooohhhhhh, it’s a hawaiian themed party,” your roommate had whispered while looking at your all black outfit

As if black jeans don’t exist in Hawaii >:(

She started talking to the guy she had met the night before, and it was getting a little steamy if you could say so yourself

You should take lessons because she was playing in the big leagues

Subtle touch on his arm

Laughing at everything he was saying

Although that one must’ve been a hard one to pull off because there’s only so much you could laugh about when a drunk dude’s retelling how much pain he was in when he thought his appendicitis was someone in an invisibility cloak stabbing him with an invisible knife

You had only come with your roommate, and she was busy trying to get with Chad over there

So you played on your phone a bit

Walked around the backyard, which was the size of a ping pong table, and got some fresh air

There was only so much bush you could look at at 11:30 pm

So you caught your roommate’s eyes (which were wandering suspiciously south)

And motioned that you were going to head out

And to text you if she was coming back

Because the way she was working her magic on Brad, the question was more of an “if” than a “when”

You walked through the sprinkler on your way back to your room, and that was the most fun part of the night by far

Two years later, you can proudly say you never stepped foot into another party

Because being in your bed nice and clean was your kind of party

Not the kind where you’re sweating not because you’re moving

But from sheer proximity to other sweaty bodies

So when Namjoon invited you to a small gathering he was having, you didn’t hesitate to say yes

You had met Namjoon earlier that semester in your botany class

The one that you both realized you only took because you had binge watched the same video of a guy grooming his garden full of bonsai plants

Trimming and landscaping and rearranging the formation of the pebbles surrounding the base

43:11 minutes of pure heaven

He squealed when you brought up BlissfulBonsai81 because yEs YES someone who understands

You’re at a coffee shop doing some work when he brings it up

Scrape of chair legs

The warm smell of cinnamon that wafts up to your nose when he hands you your drink

“Soooo since BlissfulBonsai81 mentioned in his last video that true happiness comes from celebration of small moments”

This man is his role model

“I’m gonna have a small gathering so we can celebrate the end of midterms woooo!!”

You haven’t met Namjoon’s other friends yet, but from what he’s mentioned, they seem fun

Hoseok seems a little wild though

But you trust Namjoon, and it’ll be nice to have some fun after the onslaught of exams

So you tell him you’ll go

“But only if there’s sweet and spicy sriracha wings”

“Small gathering” my ass

If Namjoon weren’t being a sweetheart and helping Youngchul in the bathroom, he would’ve been getting a piece of your mind

Your last exam was today

And to say that it burned you out would be a major understatement

Two hours of fluid dynamics and stupid pipes being smooth or rough and turbulent substances

You’ll show Namjoon turbulent when you’ve gotten your much deserved 12 hours of sleep

Even now, after the party’s died down a bit, there are at least 30 people

You couldn’t even walk up the stairs to use the bathroom without bumping into four couples making out

One was Jungkook and his new girlfriend, who he apparently officially met on an intramural volleyball team

He gave you a wave and a wink when you turned around to apologize for bumping into him

His girlfriend also smiled and gave a little wave

Probably the cutest couple you could’ve stumbled upon sucking faces

It’s nearing midnight, and you’re starting to feel the day catch up to you

The bass was a little too loud thrumming through your head

The cup you had barely touched was beginning to make your hand cramp

And that guy was still dancing

You’re half delirious and half inexperienced, but you’re pretty sure there’s no dancing at house parties

Not counting the disturbing bump and grinds happening off beat

But this guy’s been dancing for the last two hours

And you don’t know how he’s made it this far because he’s wearing jeans and a long sleeve

They make him look even more like the inflatable guys outside of car dealerships

He’s really not a bad dancer

Definitely has the flexibility for it if you can go off his limbs flying everywhere

And that huge smile’s been on his face the whole time, even though any sane person wouldn’t be smiling if they were wearing the insulator his clothes are

Any sane person also wouldn’t be doing the sprinkler to Kendrick Lamar

You’re still looking at him over the rim of your cup when you hear a small sigh next to you

Namjoon plucks the cup from your cup and downs it

“I’m never holding a party again” he groans and lets his head fall back onto the couch

You’re about to be a little sassy and correct him with “small gathering”, but he sat up when he saw you looking at the dancing noodle

“Ohh! You haven’t met Hobi hyung. Let me introduce you!!”

You’re being pulled straight off the couch and toward the middle of the room before you could blink

Oh he’s taller than you thought

“Hyung, hyung”

Namjoon has to cup his armpit and squeeze to get his attention

There’s a squeal and Hobi turns around

He makes a little tsk sound when he sees Joon

“Eh, Joon. You know I hate when you do that”

He sees you looking at him

You look like you could use a good hibernation

He can’t help but smile when you go to shake his hand but yawn instead

Your nose scrunched up and you covered your mouth with the hand you were about to use to shake his

Namjoon’s rambling about something you two have in common

“You guys both like hot cheetos!! You can talk about that”

But you two are sizing each other up silently

He seems like too much energy, too much pep for your liking

You literally just watched this guy flail for 2 hours

You don’t think you like him

He likes how you’re not afraid to make eye contact with him

You also smell like citrus, which smells like heaven compared to the overwhelming scent of dried beer and sweat

He likes you

Namjoon doesn’t know it because he’s still listing topics you could talk about

“...music? No, songs with tambourine accents are kinda niche...politics??”

You leave a little after that because your roommate got locked out while she was doing laundry, and she’s in her underwear

Hobi gives you a wink, and you narrow your eyes

He pops up a lot in the next few weeks

Sometimes just to call your name and shoot you a wink

But other times to ask how your day was and see if you want to get milkshakes

You don’t want to admit it, but you kind of enjoy spending time with him

You have to tell him to lower his voice numerous times because he ends up shouting

A problem in the library

And he likes listening, so he asks you to just talk a lot of the times

Which puts you in a weird position because you shouldn’t want to talk to someone you find loud and annoying right?

But you find yourself smiling when you hear his voice

And having to pretend to be grumpy when he interrupts your study sessions because he was bored

He’s nothing you thought you would like, but everything that made you happy

News started spreading that you and Hobi were hanging out because Hobi was beloved on campus

Even the janitors got excited to talk to him

Not many people knew who you were because you tended to keep to yourself

You were sitting on a bench one day, eating some carrots

Decapitating more like it

You were pissed

You missed your presentation this morning because your alarm didn’t go off

Professor Lee wouldn’t let you make it up even when you started crying

You were crying so much that you slipped down the stairs

Your butt now had a stair shaped bruise on it

And now you had to get ready for Namjoon’s birthday party because your present had taken 3 weeks to come in and you weren’t about to give it to him the day after his birthday

Which is why 2 hours later, you’re drunk

It only took one “what’s this pee colored drink??”

You’re in the bathroom, trying to figure out how to turn on the sink

For some reason, the knobs won’t turn to either side

Maybe it’s automatic? You wave your hands underneath the spout but still no water

You didn’t hear the knock on the door

You didn’t even know it had opened and someone had walked in until you feel a solid body bounce against yours

Hands caught your waist before you could topple over, and you let out a small “oof” when the momentum stopped and you bounced back against their chest

Mmmmmmm smells like freshly baked muffins

You fisted your hands into the fabric in front of you and buried your nose deeper

“Having fun there?”

“Mmmeppaph” you mumbled, moving your hands around to their back and letting your nose trace its way into the crook of their neck

Hobi hoped you couldn’t feel how quickly his heart was beating

Because it was about to bust out of his chest and if you hum against his neck one more ti--

“Hmmmmm”

You couldn’t help yourself because they were so warm and smelled so nice and made a really nice bed and huh, you were a little tired weren’t you

He felt your body give until you were slumped against him

The only thing that was keeping you upright was his hands on your waist

And your hands which have somehow dropped into his waistband

He shuffled out of the bathroom as carefully as possible

Your head lolled and hit the frame of the door before he could catch it, but you just gave a little huff

Only two more doors

He fumbled with your body before he freed one hand to open his door

Laid you gently onto his bed

He thanked god that he washed his boxers that were laying on there earlier today

Brought a blanket and tucked you in

He couldn’t help himself from rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip because he doesn’t have the courage to do it when you’re awake

He’s never seen you asleep before, but he likes how peaceful you look

You’re not rolling your eyes at him or shooing him away

It makes it a little easier to imagine that you could like him

He initially doesn’t hear that you’re mumbling because it’s so quiet

And the blanket’s kinda in your mouth

He moves it away so he can hear you

It still takes you a couple times before you’re coherent

“Mmmmm can I tell you a secret?”

He smiles because the only secret you told him was that his socks smell like the plague

“Of course”

You shift so that you’re curled around him, your hand resting on his thigh

“I like Hobi, but don tell him ‘cause I don think he thinks I’m cute, even though I ammmmm”

He thinks his heart exploded when he saw you push your lower lip out

“And he’s too nice and good for me, but I’m shellfish and wanna be happy, and he makes me so so so so happy”

You blanched when he recited your words over breakfast and painkillers the next morning

He knew you were going to try to deny everything when you went to open your mouth

So he reached over the counter and cupped your cheek

“Be shellfish and let yourself be happy, okay? Because that makes me happy”

“Oh and by the way, very very cute”

You hum when you taste the syrup on his lips

#i'm losing more and more control with these omg #hope you like!!#bts headcannon #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fluff #hoseok headcannon #hoseok imagine #hoseok fluff #uni!hoseok #my writing #hoseok scenario #bts drabble #bts fic #bts hoseok #hoseok fic #kpop fic

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stahlop · 5 years

Text

Must Love Dogs (3/?)

It’s time for chapter 3! Thanks again to @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta, especially since she posted like 3 stories this week and was being a beta for so many others. I really appreciate all your help.

Chapter 1 2

Also on Ao3

Chapter 3

“So,” Mary Margaret started as she dished some spaghetti and meat sauce onto Emma’s plate. Emma was thankful that Mary Margaret had invited her over for dinner, as her cabinets and refrigerator were woefully bare. She would have to make a much needed shopping trip tomorrow.

“So…” Emma said back. David gave a snort from beside her, as if he knew exactly what his wife wanted to talk to Emma about. Mary Margaret shot him a dirty look.

“So, I talked to Ruby,” Mary Margaret said, composing her face back to normal. She sat down at the table after dishing out dinner to David as well and began to serve herself. David started to pass around some garlic bread.

“And?” Emma huffed. She knew exactly where this was going, knew it would be a topic of conversation regardless, but she also secretly liked torturing Mary Margaret.

“She said you had some news to share?” Mary Margaret said even more delicately.

“Well...I did catch my skip the other day. Idiot decided to go visit an ex -girlfriend who did not want to be visited.” Emma smiled smugly knowing this was not what Mary Margaret was fishing for.

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said, blowing out a puff of air that made the brown bangs of her short pixie cut fly up slightly. “Ruby said that you might have some other news.” David was having a hard time suppressing his laughter.

“Oh,’ Emma said coyly, “You mean about the guy I met online?” she asked as if it were an afterthought.

Mary Margaret squealed in a register that Emma was sure that if Ditie was there, only she would be able to hear.

“We want to hear everything!” Mary Margaret said finally taking a big bite of her spaghetti.

“Just for the record, some of us don’t want to hear everything.” David said pointing his garlic bread at Emma before biting into it.

Emma rolled her eyes, “We emailed through the site and he asked me for my number and personal email.” She tried to get her face to stay neutral as she said it, but she couldn’t help the corners of her lips from turning up slightly. She started to twirl her spaghetti so that her mouth might be full for the next barrage of questions Mary Margaret was going to ask her. But Mary Margaret just stared at her with the biggest grin on her face that Emma felt guilty for trying to avoid her questions.

She pulled out her phone and brought up his profile before handing the phone over to Mary Margaret to read.

“I knew that site would help you find someone Emma! Oh, he’s cute!” Mary Margaret exclaimed earning a sound of indignation from her husband.”What? He is. But don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, David.” Mary Margaret mockingly pinched his cheeks, making him blush.

“The email is already pulled up.” Emma stated taking a bite of spaghetti.

Mary Margaret swiped over to the email she had received from Killian. Emma could swear there were tears in Mary Margaret’s eyes.

“Oh, Emma, he sounds perfect for you.” Mary Margaret said in a watery voice. Emma rolled her eyes again.

“I haven’t even met him. He could be all talk. He could be a serial killer.” Emma protested but even she knew she didn’t mean it. She’d known from the minute she saw his profile that this man could be the one, and that scared the hell out of her.

“How can I be this head over heels over a profile and an email? I’m not that girl. I don’t do relationships. Even if my past online dating experience hadn’t been awful, it’s doubtful that any of those guys would’ve made it past a night in the sack.” Emma said exasperated.

“That, for instance, is one of the things I don’t want to know about.” David said with a mouthful of bread. Emma and Mary Margaret ignored him.

“There’s something about him, the way he writes and the way he describes things, that gets me all shy and nervous. I feel like he could really be the one,” Emma looked up and saw the foolish grin plastered on Mary Margaret’s face, “which is really dumb because I haven’t even met him yet.” she finished quickly.

“Send him your email and your number,” David advised. Emma gave him a bewildered look. “I know it seems a little personal, but he sounds pretty direct. And you’re usually more direct when you’re not playing this weird damsel in distress thing you’ve got going on right now.”

Wow! Emma hadn’t expected David to be doling out the dating advice. He tended to treat her like his little sister most of the time, even though she was Mary Margaret’s friend. So pushing toward a guy she met online was really not in character for him.

Emma’s expression must have given all that she was thinking away because David continued with, “Emma, all we want is to see you happy. Plus, we all know you could kick his ass ten ways to Sunday if he pulled any crap on you.” He finished with a huge bite of his garlic bread and then grabbed another from the plate.

Emma grabbed her phone back from Mary Margaret. David was right (who knew she’d ever think that?). She’d been looking at his profile and email as if he were a relative who lived far away and she wanted to show off his picture, but he wasn’t. He was a living, breathing, man who was interested in her.

“Excuse me.” Emma said, backing up her chair from the table and heading over to the couch. “I just need to send him an email real quick with my information.”

Mary Margaret looked over at her husband, a huge smile on her face. Then she and David continued to eat while Emma sent her message to Killian.

EKEKEK

Killian eased the key into his apartment door and was practically run over by Jolly rushing to greet him.

“Sorry, girl.” he said as she jumped up to try and give him kisses, eventually just licking his hands instead.

“I know I’m a little late getting home. Did Henry from across the hall take you out?” Killian checked the leash and saw that it was laying on the front table instead of hanging on the wall, his and Henry’s code so that Killian knew that Jolly had been taken care of. Henry was a good kid. Killian would usually give Henry $10 anytime he needed Jolly walked because he was running late from work, like he was today.

He walked over to the kitchen table and set down his laptop and Chinese take out he’d brought home. He preferred to cook, but it was already 7 o’clock. Too late to get something defrosted, so Chinese it was. Besides, who could argue with egg rolls and Orange Chicken (no one, that’s who)?

He lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, though it was barely more than a studio. His bedroom barely fit his queen-sized bed and a dresser. But the rest of the place had lots of windows and a balcony, and it was an open floor plan, so it really wasn’t so bad. He could also see the ocean from his balcony, so that was a plus. In the summertime he could open all the windows, and the breeze coming off the Atlantic was amazing.

Killian grabbed some dog food from it’s container in the pantry and poured some out for Jolly. She immediately went over and started chowing down, even though he was sure Henry had given her some earlier as well. He added some water to her water bowl as well before settling himself down to eat his own food.

He wondered what Emma was up to tonight. She had said she worked in bail bonds, so maybe she was on a stakeout tonight. Maybe she had a late night class at BU (he wasn’t sure if she was taking online courses or regular courses), or maybe she was studying more for the police exam. Was she wondering what he was doing as well?

He finished up his meal and threw the rubbish away, packing up the leftovers for his lunch tomorrow. Then he walked over to his recliner intent on catching up on some of his shows. He hadn’t heard from Emma in two days. Maybe he had spooked her by asking for her personal information so soon. He just wanted to cut to the chase, cut out the middleman, so to speak.

Jolly, having finished her dinner, came over to get her ears scratched, one of her favorite pastimes. Killian absent-mindedly scratched her ears while flipping through his queue of shows, trying to decide which one to watch. It was then he realized that his backside was vibrating.

“Bloody hell!” he grumbled, realizing that he hadn’t taken his phone off of silent since leaving work. He grabbed it and began looking at his notifications. It looked like Will had been texting him to see if he wanted to grab dinner.

“Too late for that, mate” He texted back to him. He then noticed he had an additional notification.

He had another email from Emma.

In his actual email account.

Not from the MustLoveDogs website.

Killian got up and grabbed his laptop from where he had left it and quickly pulled up his email. He preferred responding to emails on his laptop than from his phone.

Killian,

I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous that you asked for my email and phone number. The other dating websites I’ve been on usually had an instant messaging feature, so it was a lot easier to communicate without giving out personal information. Not that I’ve been on a lot of dating websites. They all suck by the way. A story for another time. But I’ve realized through just your profile and email that I’d like to get to know you better. I’d prefer email over texting as texting is basically meant for small talk. I have included my phone number though. Do with it what you will. I’d definitely like to know about your time in the Navy and boxing and how you ended up in Boston and with Jolly.

Hope to hear from you soon (I really hate these lame ways of basically saying write back),

Emma

She had also attached a picture of Aphrodite asleep in a dog bed.

“What should I do, Jolly? Call her tonight or send her an email?” He showed Jolly the picture of the sleeping Aphrodite. Jolly gave him a ridiculous look which Killian took to mean “How would I know, you idiot, I’m only a dog.” Killian liked to imagine that Jolly had a British accent like himself and sounded like Helen Mirren from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. She then padded over to the bed and laid down to go to sleep.

Killian snapped a picture of Jolly on his phone and decided that he would send it to Emma since she’d sent him one of her dog. It was amazing how similar their dogs looked. A beautiful, strong woman with the same taste in pets, how much more perfect could she be?

Emma,

Jolly is sleeping too. She was not as impressed by your correspondence as I was. But then again, she is only a dog. Maybe she’s jealous that I have another dog on my phone. Even though her profile said she wanted a doggy friend, she’s only had me for the past year and a half. I hope our dogs get along as well as we seem to. I prefer talking on the phone to email or texting (I completely agree about texting), so expect to hear from me some time tomorrow. I hope the rest of your night is satisfactory.

Killian

EKEKEK

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting,” Emma said as she sat down in an oversized, plush armchair.

“I know. It feels like we’ve been emailing forever,” Killian said to her as he set down his coffee on the long table and sat down in another armchair. His did not look as comfortable as Emma’s.

Anticipation fluttered in Emma’s stomach. It seemed like they had been missing each other left and right. It had taken weeks to align their schedules to actually get to meet up. But something about this didn’t seem right.

She looked over in the corner to see two black and white dogs tussling with each other.

“Did you bring Jolly with you?” she inquired.

Killian nodded, taking a sip from a comically large cappuccino mug. Except that there was a flowery teapot on the table.

“You brought Ditie too,” he added. She looked back over at the dogs and noticed that one of them was indeed Ditie. Something still wasn’t sitting right. She wondered why she would bring her dog to a coffee shop.

“Do they allow dogs in here?” Emma inquired, and then she realized, “How do you know I call my dog Ditie, I never mentioned it.” Her bail bonds instincts were starting to kick in.

She looked over at Killian who was now pouring an obscene number of sugar cubes into his cup. He opened his mouth to respond but all she could hear was The Police singing “Every Breath You Take”.

What the..?

That sounded just like her ringtone.

It was her ringtone.

She searched the long table for the phone but didn’t see it anywhere.

Killian was still putting sugar cubes into his tea and singing her ringtone.

And that’s when Emma finally realized she was dreaming.

She rolled over, still half-asleep, to try and feel her phone on the nightstand. Someone was obviously calling her. By the time she felt the phone, it had stopped ringing. She checked the time. It was 8 AM.

“Who the hell is calling me at 8 AM on a Friday morning?” she wondered. She checked the number. It wasn’t work or anyone whose name was saved in her phone. The number looked slightly familiar, but she wasn’t sure why. Well, if it was important they would leave a message.

“No more Alice in Wonderland before bed,” Emma thought, realizing that the tea party from the cartoon was featured heavily in her dream. She had come home from Mary Margaret and David’s late last night after watching the aforementioned movie, along with copious amounts of wine, because Mary Margaret was insistent that if they were going to eat somewhat Italian food, they had to have wine with it as well. Emma’s head was not happy with that. Thank goodness she’d decided to Uber it to their apartment rather than drive her bug.

Emma was debating whether to lounge around some more or get up (she only had to put in half a day today, just filling out paperwork) when Ditie padded in and started to whine.

“Ok, girl, I know what that means.” Emma said getting out of bed and scratching Ditie’s head. She quickly grabbed her workout clothes from off the floor and put them on. She and Ditie headed to the door so she could attire Ditie for the walk. Emma also grabbed a lightweight hoodie as the weather had a bit of a nip to it in the mornings now.

When they got to the dog park, Emma grabbed a cup of coffee, per usual, and brought out her phone to check her email and see if whomever had called had left a message. They had.

“Hello Emma Swan. This is Killian Jones, from the Must Love Dogs website.” Emma quickly paused the message. Her heart was about to start beating out of her chest.

He’d called!

He’d called and he sounded incredibly nervous. Coupled with his accent he sounded adorable.

And then it dawned on her.

He’d called and she missed it!

She dragged the message back to the start and pressed play.

“Hello Emma Swan. This is Killian Jones, from the Must Love Dogs website. Sorry, that sounded really doltish. I had said I’d be calling you in my email last night, so hopefully you’re not screening my telephone call. I had hoped to catch you before I got into work. You’re probably getting ready for work. It’s Friday, so I’ll be getting off at 4 today, so…. I’ll try you again later. Bye.”

“Shit!” she gasped looking at the phone. Killian Jones had called her and she’d missed it because she’d been sleeping. And it was still too damn early to call anyone to talk about it! And then she remembered that he had said he’d emailed her the previous night.

“Shit!” she said again, because she hadn’t checked her email last night or this morning. She opened her email app and saw, that yes, indeed, he had responded to her email at around eight the night before. And he’d included a picture of Jolly sleeping.

“Awww!”

Normally, Emma would lounge at the park for a little while longer, but now she was a bundle of nervous energy. She just wanted it to be 4 o’clock so Killian would call her back. She should have put his number in her contacts when he gave it to her, then this would not have happened. She felt like the biggest idiot. Of course, the wine and late night Disney had not helped the situation. She immediately added his number so she would know it was him when he called later.

“Ditie! Come!” she yelled over the thrum of the dog park. Ditie looked at her and whined as if to say “But we just got here”. “Ditie!” Emma said a bit more impatiently this time. Ditie bowed her head and slunk over to her owner. She knew when Emma meant business.

“Good dog!” Emma said kneeling to clip the leash to Ditie’s harness and scratching behind her ears. Ditie gave her a half-hearted lick.

“I know you didn’t get as much playtime as usual, but mama’s got things to do.”

The day seemed to drag on forever. After getting home from the park, Emma got dressed for work. She knew she only had half a day of work to do, but she needed to keep her mind off of the fact that Killian was going to call again.

Her mind started drifting while she was doing some of, what she considered, pointless paperwork. She really hadn’t dated much. Growing up in the foster system had not left room for relationships. Any time she’d made a friend, she’d end up leaving. And living in a world before email and the internet, it wasn’t easy to keep in touch. So she’d stopped trying. When she’d ended up in Boston and meeting Ruby, friends had started to come more easily. Ruby wouldn’t take no for an answer when she’d invite her places. Asking didn’t mean she had a choice. Emma was thankful for that now. Without Ruby she wouldn’t have met Mary Margaret, who had been a good friend of hers in high school, and had moved to the big city with Ruby to go to college while Ruby waitressed in her grandmother’s diner. Ruby’s grandmother had called them the Three Musketeers, but after awhile Mary Margaret met David and Ruby had met Dorothy. Sure they had tried to set Emma up, but just because they knew people who were single didn’t mean they were the right person for Emma (she grimaced when thinking about Graham, a friend of Ruby’s, who happened to be in law enforcement, and that was all they had in common).

But Killian, there was just something about him. She hoped it wasn’t all a facade. Something constructed for his online persona. That his picture wasn’t a fake and everything he wrote was copied from somewhere else. Her bail bonds instincts were not screaming at her that she was being catfished though. Her heart was practically singing and telling her this guy was it. Something she never thought she’d ever think in her life. Not after life had let her down so many times before.

“Hey, Emma!” The voice of her boss broke her out of her trip down memory lane. He was a short, grumpy man named Leroy, but he’d taken her under his wing when she was tired of waiting tables and taught her everything she knew about bail bonds. “Are you done with that paperwork yet? You’ve been staring at your laptop for the past half hour and you haven’t moved a muscle.”

“Um, yes. Sorry. Just thinking,” Emma said. She finished printing out everything that was needed and handed it to Leroy. She checked the time: a little after noon. She decided to text Ruby to see if she was available for lunch. She was.

“Bye Leroy. See you Monday.” Unless something important came up, Emma had most weekends free. The weekends were for committing crimes, not jumping bail apparently.

Emma entered the diner and saw Ruby in their usual booth in the back that was usually reserved for the manager during lunch. Ruby now managed the diner that her grandmother owned. Emma slid into the booth and immediately started to freak out.

“I missed a phone call from him this morning. I was asleep and I missed his damn call,” she lamented. Emma banged her arms and head on the table.

Ruby, with her wolfish grin, said nothing, just motioned for the server to come to the booth.

“Give me the roast beef sandwich with french fries and a Coke, and my friend here will have a grilled cheese, onion rings, and a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon.” Ruby turned back to Emma as the server walked away to prepare the order.

“Thanks.” Emma said.

“Look, Emma, I know you have it bad for this guy, which is so weird because you never fall for men like this, but you have to get yourself under control.” Emma attempted to interrupt at this point but Ruby gave her a look which shut her down. “Did he leave a message?”

“Yes.”

“Did he say he’d call later?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you getting all out of sorts about?” Ruby asked taking a sip of the soda that had just been placed in front of her.

“I’m just...nervous. This is not me. You’re right, I don’t get nervous over men. David said I was playing the damsel in distress the other night and to cut it out. What if I meet him and he’s nothing like I thought?” Emma asked slightly anxious. She restlessly swiped her finger through her whipped cream and licked it off.

“And what if he’s better? What if he’s the ultimate perfect man for you, Emma?” Ruby challenged back. “You need to stop asking ‘What if?’ because that will lead you down a path you don’t want to go.” Ruby stared at her until Emma nodded her understanding.

“Now stop freaking out so we can eat lunch together, because I have a feeling that once you two meet, I’ll never get to have you to myself again,” Ruby said with a huge grin on her face.

It was two by the time Emma and Ruby finished lunch. Emma headed back to her apartment and then took Ditie out for a walk. She might have gone back to the park, but she had too much nervous energy to work off. They walked around the neighborhood. Emma wondered where Killian’s work was. Most likely near the shore since it was a boat touring company. Although, maybe he worked out of a corporate office somewhere else. Technically, she could just look up the address, but she wanted to find things out organically, rather than research.

After an hour of wandering around, Emma and Ditie finally headed home. Ditie immediately lapped up the water in her bowl and then padded over to her dog bed. She huffed a few times while she circled around and then flopped down for a nap.

Emma would have loved to take a nap as well, but she was not going to risk missing Killian’s phone call. Instead, she put on the Food Network and mindlessly watched one of their many cooking competition shows.

At exactly 4 o’clock, Emma’s phone rang.

“Be cool, Emma, be cool.” she said to herself. She let it ring twice before she picked it up, not wanting to come off like she was desperately waiting for his call.

“Hello?” she said casually.

“Emma Swan? It’s Killian Jones. It’s great to finally hear your voice,” he said.

“Yours too. I’m so sorry I missed your call this morning. A little too much wine last night and some weird dreams had me completely out.” She said.

“Weird dreams?” he responded. God, his voice was so much better than on the voicemail. She could only imagine how it would be in person.

“My friend, Mary Margaret, and I decided to watch Alice in Wonderland, while drinking wine. So, I dreamed that we were on a date and it had some overt tea party themes going on.” Emma said.

“Dreaming of me already?” Killian responded with a slight hint of arrogance, but nothing too off-putting. She did just tell him he was in her dream. Emma responded with an eye roll but also and embarrassed giggle.

Killian thought that giggle was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Look, Emma,” Killian began, “I know this is extremely short notice, but would you be interested in going out with a dashingly, handsome man tonight?” He held his breath.

Emma paused thinking of how to respond, “Is George Clooney in town? I thought he was married?”

Killian let out a barking laugh. “Ok, I deserved that.” He paused to regroup, “But seriously, are you available tonight?”

“Yes, “ Emma began, not even giving any pretense that she might have to think it over, “I would love to go out with you tonight, Killian.”

Please leave comments and reblog! Also, let me know if you want to be tagged when other chapters post.

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious

#cs au ff #cs online dating #cs pet dating #are they every going to meet #guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out #and yes I did sleep through the first time my husband called #no way was I awake at 8 in the morning on the weekend

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