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hansolmates · 4 years

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17 going on 27

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. pairing; photographer!jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england w/c; 22.6k a/n; it’s that time of the year baby! the time of the year where i binge watch the good ol’ early 2000s romcoms that make absolutely no sense! a huge thank u to @eerieedits for making this beautiful banner. vivi got the whole delia’s/claire’s vibe down to a t!

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March 19th, 2011

Thirty, flirty, and thriving!

You finger the dog-eared magazine, last month’s issue of a shoddy fashion magazine that featured top actress Jennifer Garner on the front cover. Her caramel brown highlights practically glow on the page, blown out and beautiful. You suppress a sigh, you long to be the radiant young woman on the cover. The headline is glittery, sparkly and just begging for attention.

Swiping a hand through the pages, your eyes are crowded with over-stimulation. Colorful models dressed up in the latest designs, Chanel and Burberry suits you can only dream of, and happy women at the prime of their lives.

Twenty-seven and in Heaven! You smile wryly at the cheesy rhyme that headlines the following pages, but nevertheless the happy model on the spread does indeed look like they’re in heaven.

Sure, you’re no shrinking violet. Heck, you don’t even consider yourself painfully average. You may not be on the traditional spectrum of popularity in high school, but you get around and have a wonderful best friend and an even better boyfriend. However given the social classes that preside, you do get those moments where you second guess your life’s position. Good thing high school has an expiration date, and you’re close to the end.

“Baby Bun, what are you doing?” the magazine is snatched from your grasp, thrown on the table without a care in the world. Jennifer Garner’s hydro-whitened smile gleams tauntingly at you, “reading that junk is gonna mess with your head.”

Your boyfriend returns from his final suit fitting, his outfit for tonight all pressed and ready to go. He pouts at you, pulling you up by the hand to lead you out of the Men’s Warehouse. Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the lacrosse team, flying by high school with a sports scholarship already in the bag. Eats up attention like plants soak up the sun. Secretly loves taking photographs of his dog and watching Netflix animes at your house.

“Aren’t you excited for prom?”

“Excited to listen to LMFAO’s Party Rock Anthem on repeat?” you guaff, “as if.”

He pinches your arm lightly, “You also forget that we’re gonna tear up the floor to Nicki Minaj’s Superbass.”

You shrug listlessly, crunching the white plastic closer to your body.

Before you can suck all the air out of the garment bag, Jungkook carefully extracts it from your grasp, easily holding it between his one arm so he can thread his other hand through yours. “I am excited! It’s just that… Jimin’s not gonna be there and we’re sitting with the Yearbook committee.”

Looking down at the floor you extract your hand from his, slipping into his parent’s Honda Civic. The yearbook committee, meaning you’d be sitting at a table with head editor Jennie and her group of friends. Friends that are popular and pretty, just like Jungkook.

Jimin is currently on a flight back from Korea due to a family funeral, therefore leaving a seat empty at your prom table. It was only seat that you cared about, other than Jungkook’s. It’s no one’s fault and Jimin of course is doubly upset to miss prom, but without your best friend you’re not sure if you can survive the night.

One of the few secrets you keep from Jungkook is the fact that Jennie and you aren’t exactly friendly to each other. You don’t know why, maybe it’s the fact that you don’t run the in same friend group or you always win the debate in Civics class, but Jennie clearly expresses her dislike for you as easily as she expresses her love for Jungkook.

Which makes you incredibly insecure, but Jennie and Jungkook have been friends for longer than you and him have been together, who are you to intervene?

Jungkook slips in the driver’s seat, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Right. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend, and that should matter more than his friendship with Jennie.

But the smell of his freshly cleaned lacrosse jersey, his duffle bag overflowing with protein powder and unfinished assignments remind you that you have your world and he has his. A conversation about your insecurities could wait until tomorrow.

“When’s Jimin’s flight?” Jungkook asks, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping on your thigh as he pulls out.

“He’ll be back two hours into the dance,” you report, albeit glumly as you rest your head against the cool window.

“That sucks,” Jungkook replies, a bit of sadness in his tone, “he has to miss out on his prom night.”

You shrug, “Prom isn’t everything, it’s about the people you spend it with.”

“Well then,” he squeezes your thigh, “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

You only have a few hours to get ready until you meet Jungkook at his house for pictures, so when you get dropped off, you tell him that he doesn’t have to get out of the car to escort you into your home. But Jungkook is insistent, putting the car in park and getting out your dress for you with such delicacy that you’re positively sure there’s no wrinkles in the fabric. Taking the dress from his grasp you wish him goodbye and a promise to meet each other later.

“Wait,” Jungkook is biting his lip, unable to let go of your hand even though you’re already up the stairs. You’re looking down at him, a rarity considering his tall frame.

“What’s wrong, Kook?”

“Uh, I was just thinking,” he’s scratching the back of his head, and you soften. The little quirk he has is a sign of insecurity, being the star player Jungkook is forced to exude confidence to a fault. “Maybe, we could skip the prom thing? You said so yourself that prom is about the people you spend it with.”

Your eyes widen, clutching your dress tighter. “What? Jungkook, that’s ridiculous. Between the both of us we’ve spent a lot of money on the clothes and the tickets.”

“Right,” he forces a laugh, and you put a hand on your hip to think it out but you can’t quite place what’s going on. “Sorry Bun, I just know how the finale of our favorite anime airs tonight.”

“You’re so silly,” you chastise, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Normally he hates it, but you can’t help but melt when he leans into your touch a little more. “C’mon, I know suits are stuffy and stuff, but let’s just do this high school rite of passage thing. Afterwards we can go to McDonalds or something and watch the recording.”

“You’re right,” his face is red, “what was I thinking? Can’t miss out on a night to see my beautiful girlfriend all dressed up.”

He squeezes your hand one last time, a little too tight for comfort. With a half smile he waves, going into his car and driving off.

You don’t have time to dwell on his weirdness (and trust when you say that Jungkook is plenty weird and it astounds you how the rest of your class has no idea) so you fly up to your room to get your hair and makeup ready. Your parents greet you excitedly along the way, telling you there’s a package left for you on your vanity.

It’s a plain cardboard box, already cut and unwrapped by your parents for convenience. The address shows it came from Korea, proudly displaying the name of your best friend on the return address. Inside is a beautiful compact, made of brushed gold and pink metal. The makeup inside is a loose glitter from a brand that you don’t recognize, but since it’s a gift from Jimin, you trust his taste.

I have to be at prom somehow, Jimin’s note on the box reads, don’t overthink and have fun!

You snort, reading the sticky note over and over in Jimin’s voice. Looking over the shade, you can’t help but grimace at the cliché name. Wishing Dust. The color is a little too white and silvery for your taste, but you’ll wear it in honor of Jimin.

The dress, the hair, the makeup all come together little by little. You like the ritual of getting ready, building yourself up to the highest order and feeling closer and closer to the beautiful women in magazines. Surprisingly, your favorite part of getting ready is applying the glitter that Jimin gifted you. The puff enclosed is cloud soft, and surprisingly the color doesn’t look too ashen on your skin. The glitter sinks into your skin like a soft butter, accentuating your collarbones and cheeks as if you are glowing from within.

You smile at yourself in the mirror. A little part of you wishes you could look like this everyday. You wish you could always look and feel this confident, and act mature and graceful.

A buzzing on your desk stops your wishful thinking, and you frown at the message that lights up your phone.

Jungkook: sorry bun, but the civic finally broke down and its on its way to car heaven. Could we meet at the party hall instead? We can take pictures there, jennie mentioned yearbook hired a photographer

Disheartened, you send a quick text back saying it’s fine. Any more explanation on your feelings would reveal your disappointment. You don’t know how you’re going to tell your parents that they won’t be taking pictures with your boyfriend anytime soon. So you suck it in and take solo pictures for your parents and some group selfies. This is just one bump in the night, the rest of it should be smooth sailing.

But when your parents drop you off at the venue your eyes first land on a beat up Honda Civic. You’re pretty sure car heaven isn’t at the prom.

The rest of your entrance is a blur as you go through every corner of the venue, searching for your boyfriend. You’re clutching his matching flower in your hand, a beautiful red rose with baby’s breath circling around it, all clutched together in a black silk ribbon. You wonder what kind of flower he bought you.

But it’s nearly impossible to find him. Not at the photobooth, the appetizer buffet, or in the lobby. It’s not until you’re sweating at the brow and nearing the corner of the venue that you do find him.

Lips locked, kissing Jennie.

The plastic encasing Jungkook’s boutonniere drops, clanging to the ground.

Whispers of you circle the air, meeting your ears and confirming all your insecurities.

“Oh my god, I knew Jungkook was cheating on her!”

“Wow, how pathetic. She ran all the way to prom alone to see this?”

“I thought his girlfriend was a smart girl. How did she not know that their relationship was a bet all along?”

Jungkook and Jennie are on the balcony, looking picture perfect in matching formal attire and flowers. The sun is setting, not taking its time as it sinks deeper and deeper into the horizon. The sky darkens and the air is chilly, much like your heart.

Jungkook's eyes are wide and in shock as he watches you from the balcony, but Jennie’s are sharp and satisfied. Satisfied, as if the whole thing had been orchestrated.

While you can’t hear him because he’s so far away, you can see the ghost of your name on his lips. Your ears are ringing, numb to the laughter of the students watching and the pity that others are throwing at you. You feel dumb. You feel like throwing up. In a bout of anger your heel digs into the plastic of the boutonniere, crushing the innocent rose in its clear coffin.

You don’t make it far out the door when one of your favorite teachers snatches you in concern.

“Honey, any further and you’ll be running on the highway," Mrs. Song jokes, pulling you away from the entrance.

You feel like a newborn deer in your heels and incredibly heavy in your dress as Mrs. Song drags you over to a staff bathroom. It's far, far away from the actual party. Mrs. Song doesn't say anything, and just gives you a sad smile as she let's you go into the single stall alone.

Sitting on the toilet and not giving a care that your dress is probably getting soiled, you bury your face in your hands and finally let the tears flow. Fat, frustrated tears roll down your cheeks without a care in the world.

"Mrs. Song please, I need to get in there."

"Now Jungkook, I think you've done enough for today. Go back to the party and don't worry about it."

You can imagine Jungkook now, he hated it when people told him not to worry. It only made him more annoyed, fists probably clenched under his perfectly tailored suit and his cute teeth uncharacteristically gritted. He cared to a fault, at least you thought he did. He ruined your night, he made you feel so dumb and silly.

But the longer you stayed in the dim bathroom, you could care less. Thank goodness for Mrs. Song guarding the door. Why would he bother to follow you? It turns out all your insecurities are not in vain, and that you’ve been ignoring a gut feeling you’ve mistaken for your lack of trust. You shouldn’t have trusted Jungkook. You shouldn’t have been so tolerable of Jennie.

Goodness, you feel so stupid. You hope that there are other bathrooms for staff to use, because you want to coop yourself in here until the last dance. Mascara drips on your sleeves, your hands swiping at your cheeks to stop any tears from staining your dress even further.

The more you hear Jungkook and Mrs. Song argue, the more you want to disappear. You bury yourself on the floor, uncaring of how dirty the tiles are. Glitter smears across your cheeks and sticks to your hands, and you no longer feel like the thriving young adult you once felt when you walked out the door this evening.

All you can do is cry and pray you can get through the night. And the next day, and the rest of senior year. You don’t want to see Jungkook or Jennie until graduation, when they walk out of the door and permanently out of your life. You wish you could skip the rest of the semester, and fastforward to the life you’ve carved for yourself in your dreams since freshman year. You wish you could be like the woman on the magazine, who has her whole life put together. To be a woman who holds all the confidence in the world and doesn’t have to worry about stupid men.

Just like the cover. Thirty, flirty and thriving. Just like the models in the magazines. Twenty-seven and in heaven.

Just once, do you want to taste the feeling of having life on your side.

March 20st, 2021

Your first thought is that you feel disgusting.

Of course, falling asleep in a random bathroom stall will make you feel those things. Your dress clinging uncomfortably to your sweating form, lulled to the sounds of Mrs. Song’s temperamental voice and Jungkook’s arguing.

But for some reason it’s a different kind of disgusting. The feeling is rotting in your throat, as if there’s a tang stuck to the roof of your mouth. You also feel impossibly dehydrated, as if you’ve run a marathon. And for some reason you’re sore? Especially in the crotch, and you don’t remember experiencing any cramps yesterday.

Your hands come to your body, and instead of feeling tulle and taffeta your hands are greeted with a silky black negligee that hangs across your waist. Panic stings in your bones like a stroke of lightning.

Eyes snapping open, your breath catches in your throat when you take in the room. You’re on a large plush creme couch, large enough to be a bed. The organza curtains are a shade of bottle green and are opened slightly to let the morning sun in. From your view it seems like this is the top floor of the complex, overlooking the city horizon.

You feel the covers shift slightly, and you realize there’s a naked man sleeping next to you. You scream.

The man screams back with an even higher pitch, falling off the couch and clutching the sheets like a lifeline. “What?” he panics, eyes darting back and forth across the room like he’s on a reality television show. “What the fuck? Is there something on my face! Why are you screaming so early!”

The fact that he’s an adult man and you’re seventeen is even more terrifying, and you feel absolutely naked despite the fact that you’re nearly clothed. But what confuses you more is that this man looks awfully familiar.

Familiar in the sense that you’ve seen him in one too many television sitcoms to count. This man in front of you looks like Kim Seokjin, the protagonist of your favorite television show: Sky City. He has the same plump lips and pretty face, only aged up. But last time you checked on Soompi, Seokjin is supposed to be twenty years old and filming the next season in New Zealand. Arguably he could be his older brother, but he never acted and you don’t think he’d be the spitting image.

“Seokjin?” you taste the name on your tongue, “Kim Seokjin?”

Seokjin relaxes considerably, and he finds it appropriate to return to the couch, placing a tentative hand on your thigh. “Right, were you really that drunk? You got my name right, but it seems that you’ve forgotten that the only name you called me last night was sex god…”

His plush lips meet the ends of your earlobe, and you squeal at the strange sensation.

You’ve had sex with this man and you can’t even remember it? Furthermore how can a peasant like you be in contact with a celebrity? What on earth happened last night? Shouldn’t you be calling the police or panicking more? Where’s the pepper spray and sharp knives where you need them? You can’t even find it in you to find a sharp weapon at your once cherished-idol, who’s apparently unfazed and drinking in your body like he has a taste of it every night.

“What’s the date?” you push him away, looking around for any signs of where you are and how you ended up here.

“It’s the first day of spring,” Seokjin says easily, stretching out on the couch. “I wonder when the cherry blossoms will bloom. Should we have a picnic with Bogum?”

“Where’s my phone, I can’t find my phone!”

Seokjin doesn’t bat an eye as he digs through the couch, pulling something from under him. He waves it in front of your face. “That’s not my phone,” you deadpan.

“Okay I guess you were actually that drunk,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, forcing the large piece of plastic and metal on your palm. “When you went to the bathroom last night you dropped your old phone in the toilet. We picked up a new one on the way to the next bar. Good thing the new Samsung dropped last month!”

Since when are phones this large? You carry the strange weight in your hands, confused as to why Seokjin thinks this is your phone. You own a beat up 2G that barely gets any reception in the school basement. But when you turn it on, the screen recognizes your face immediately and unlocks. Wow, since when do cell phones do face recognition?

A selfie of you and Seokjin appears on the homescreen, looking totally happy.

Is that you?

No longer do you have acne lining your brows, or uneven skin texture. Your smile is high and prominent. Your visage is clean and done with minimal makeup, highlighting your beauty.

The date flickers on the top of the screen. March 20th, 2021: 7:42AM.

You scream again. Seokjin screams again for the heck of it.

“How did this happen!” you shriek, dropping your phone to step up to the window. You bask in your reflection, mildly impressed and even more so afraid of what’s in front of you. Your body has filled out like an adult, and considering it’s ten years into the future, other things have filled out as well. Experimentally, your hands go out to your chest, squeezing. Yep, those knockers were not there the last time you checked.

“Well, you came back from work completely drained from a shoot and I just finished filming my Everyday Skincare Routine video with Vogue,” Seokjin comes up to you, blanket tied around his waist like a long towel. “We met at our usual bar and do what we usually do when we’re both stressed: bang it out.”

You watch as Seokjin’s hands snake around your slick silk, hugging you from behind like it’s second nature. “Is this a dream?” you ask yourself, because it’s not unlikely that you’ve had a sex dream with Seokjin and this is the aftermath dream.

“Nope,” you yelp when Seokjin pinches your butt, hard. It stings. “This is real life, baby.”

“Are we dating?”

You feel Seokjin’s grip tense, and he shoves your innocent question away with a coarse laugh. “You know both you and me don’t do serious relationships. It’s why we work so well together, you know that.”

“Right,” you reply softly. That doesn’t sound like you at all, and it scares you considerably.

“So, I gotta go,” you panic when he lets go and starts searching around for his clothes. Your face heats up at Seokjin’s perky ass staring back at you, and your eyes dart to a random spot in the corner. “I got a green meeting with Ellen, and lord knows I don’t wanna face her wrath if I’m late.”

In seconds he’s fully clothed in a plain shirt and jeans, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Call me beep me, if you wanna reach me,” he sings, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he leaves you in the large apartment.

The door slams with a hard smack and that’s when you collapse on the couch that feels foreign and strange, breaking into tears.

The next time you wake up, it’s the next day. It’s a glaringly bright Sunday and for whatever reason you’re still in this aged-up body. Maybe time travel makes the body really tired. This isn’t a dream. You panic for the second time, walking back and forth around the loft that’s apparently yours. It seems like it’s yours, because the bills that linger on the coffee table have your name and the pictures in the one bedroom are of you and your family.

But the refrigerator in the nook is digital and has fancy ice settings, something you could never imagine owning. Your closet is filled with brand named suits, and with every designer label you pass you mentally rack up the total of just one section. It’s enough to pay for your college tuition if your first choice accepts you.

Wait. You’re apparently twenty-seven, college is long gone.

Lying in your bed feels better, surrounded by familiar pictures of your cousins and family. Your favorite snacks are tucked with care in your nightstand, and it makes you feel a tiny bit better knowing that your favorite chocolate and chips will never change.

What happened in the past ten years? Why don’t you remember anything and are you entirely sure this isn’t some strange fever dream?

Time ticks slowly as you spend the afternoon, glued to your phone. It’s a 25 Note+ and it’s filled with multiple doohickeys and settings that make you feel technologically inept. You never thought you were bad with technology, but clearly these phones have a learning curve attached to them.

You try to call your family, but according to the voicemail left they’re on a Disney cruise that you paid for. Your heart aches at the excited voice of your parents. Why are they on a vacation without you?

The next thing you aim for is finding Jimin’s contact. According to Google Maps, you’re not far from your hometown and you know that Jimin’s always wanted to move to the city so he must be nearby. To your chagrin, his name isn’t on your contact list. Strange, he’s always number two on speed dial.

Clicking on the internet browser, you go to the online Whitepages and search up Park Jimin. There may be a million ones, but maybe you could get a lead. When a picture and an address show up easily with one swipe, you scoff. The internet has no room for privacy ten years later, huh?

The most casual thing you own in your closet is a Free People dress, reaching mid-calf with flowing bell sleeves. Heck, you couldn’t even find a single pair of jeans. You don’t care however, as you swipe your keys from the counter (you gape, you own a Tesla?) and race down to the parking garage.

Jimin’s apartment is on the other side of the city. It’s strange, transitioning from high rises and shiny windows to quaint brick walls and lived-in patio spaces. You feel like it’s a race against time as you make it all the way to his room, knocking feverishly on the mahogany red door.

“What? Who is it?” it’s clear that his room is cheap, the walls thin as you hear his voice shuffle throughout the room. Why are you shaking? It’s just your best friend.

The door swings open and you and Jimin drink each other in. His baby fat has melted from his cheeks, revealing a handsome and charming jawline. His hair is no longer a natural black, but has been dyed to a sandy blond that suits his tan. His eyes, wide in surprise, are still a soft brown but not as bright as when he was seventeen.

“Jimin,” your third round of tears hits you like a truck at the sight of your best friend, and you immediately run into his arms.

But he doesn’t hug you back immediately. In fact, he doesn’t know what to do at all. Your name rolls off his lips like he’s seen a ghost.

You pull away, as if you are burned. You flinch at the way Jimin regards you. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he looks at you, crossing his arms, “I don’t know what to feel when your old best friend suddenly shows up at your doorstep after ten years.”

What?

“Why would I do that?” you whisper, bracing your hand against the doorframe to steady yourself.

“Well, after graduation you chose a college at the last minute. Decided to go to a prestigious fashion university in Europe. Shacked it up with some British guys and well, forgot about your past but I guess I can’t blame you.”

“But I couldn’t have left you,” you know you’re not even talking to Jimin, but in fact scolding yourself for being so stupid these past ten years. “I was crying for you that night at prom. All I wanted was for you to be there and hold me!”

That strikes a cord. Jimin pops his head into the hallway, looking back and forth to see if anyone is watching. He sighs when your tears turn into sobs, shaking your form. “Come in,” he mutters, ushering you inside.

Jimin’s apartment feels more like home than your apartment does. Cosy and warm with the scent of jasmine brewing on the stove. The pour of tea soothes you slightly as you relax on the worn leather couch.

Jimin hands you a mug, sitting opposite you against the rickety living room table. “Are you okay?” he asks, showing genuine concern for the first time.

“I’m,” you roll the muddy liquid in your grasp, watching the tea leaves tumble. “I just came back from the hospital, actually. Hit my head drinking last night and I’m suffering from memory loss,” you clutch your head for good measure, feigning injury.

“Memory loss?” he gapes, unable to see through your lie.

“Yeah uh,” you wince, “almost ten years of memory loss.”

Jimin isn’t a man who thinks ahead, preferring to live in the moment. You figure he’s not going to question your excuse. Your former best friend nearly drops his tea in the process, hot drops burning his hand. He hisses, placing the plain mug on the table as he goes to his shelves, pulling out your class yearbook.

“Ten years,” he shakes his head, looking like he’s just stepped into a Korean drama. “Is that even possible?”

“Must be,” you sigh, not wanting to delve into the details of how you ended up in the future, “the first thing I did when I woke up was scream my head off. Then I woke up later and the first person I called were my parents who didn’t pick up, and then I wanted to call you but,” you squeeze the cup in your hands, “I couldn’t find your contact so I searched you up.”

“Should we call the hospital or something? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around like this.”

“Don’t worry, they said the memory loss is only temporary,” you force a smile, knocking your head lightly with the heel of your palm, “I just gotta y’know, catch up a little bit. I thought you could help.”

Jimin is patient, albeit a little nervous, watching carefully as your eyes glaze emptily over the old yearbook. You’re unfazed at the familiar faces and events that are described to you in detail, unable to recall what happened during the events that followed graduation. There’s barely any pictures of you, so it doesn’t help when he tries to explain as much as he can.

You stop him at the sports section, pointing a finger at Jungkook being carried by his fellow teammates during the lacrosse championships. “What happened to Jungkook?”

Jimin shrugged, “Blew his sports scholarship,” your eyebrows float to the top of your forehead, appalled that your former love would do such a thing, “decided to pursue his passion and went to an art school for a degree in photography.”

So much has changed in the past ten years.

“Hey, can you please stop crying?”

“I’m sorry,” you warble, wiping at your sleeve as if the fabric didn’t cost hundreds of dollars, “I must be making you so uncomfortable by barging in. I’ll get out of your life—”

“No, not that. I just don’t like seeing you cry,” Jimin sighs, squeezing your knee, “of course I was upset when you suddenly upped and left town to study in another continent. But I was still happy for you. On the internet you seemed tons happier since highschool.”

“I can say that’s no longer the case,” you mutter sadly, taking a long drag of your tea. The burn flows down your throat, digging you to reality, “I guess I just woke up and wasn’t prepared to be the person I ended up being.”

“Well, what can your former best friend do to make it better?”

Your eyes widen at Jimin’s uneasy stare, as if he’s wondering whether he said the right thing or not.

“Um,” you bite your lip, “will you go shopping with me? I realized I don’t own any sweatpants or sneakers and I would really like to wear something comfortable right now,” you look despondently on your uncomfortable dress, swinging around the sleeves that seem to snag onto everything.

“Okay,” he nods easily, “will you also buy me new sweatpants and sneakers? And dinner? I really want a New York Strip.”

“What?” you furrow your brows, “can I afford that?”

He chuckles to himself, pulling you up and wiping the tears on your face with a tissue from his pocket. You don’t even care to ask whether the tissue is clean, only focusing on the tender gesture that you’ve missed so much.

“Honey, you’re one of the co-editors of Ego. I’m sure a couple pairs of sweatpants and steak will barely make a dent in your bank account.”

You’re flabbergasted. Ego? The fashion magazine that’s on billboards and commercials? That Ego?

After a couple checks through your bank account, and a triple check with a phone call and trip to the ATM, you’re sure the money is yours. It scares you, but also comforts you knowing that you’ve always been able to make it big.

You barely bat an eye as Jimin tugs you around the city with a familiarity that has you reeling. You struggle to remember the streets you pass and the signs that indicate what part of town you’re in, all whilst Jimin basks in the fruits of your labor. You don’t give a shit, obviously. It makes you happy seeing Jimin slowly melt and grow more comfortable throughout the day.

This is the kind of life you envisioned. One where comfort isn’t discarded for luxury, where the two cultures can marry. Jimin busts a gut when he sees you angrily shove your Free People dress deep in your shopping bags in favor of a black Adidas tracksuit that makes you feel like a soccer mom. Of course, he doesn’t know why you’re so aggressive with all your luxurious items, heck you even make him drive your Tesla, but nevertheless each passing hour brightens you up considerably.

When you two arrive at a fancy steakhouse with a dress code, the manager doesn’t hesitate to chide you and suggest the Applebee’s down the street.

You retort back that you’re an editor of Ego, and in seconds you’d have this restaurant swarmed with bad reviews. You know nothing about culinary review but you’re sure the manager doesn’t know that, and no arguments are placed after that.

The evening puts you in higher spirits, and you’re almost convinced that you’re a successful twenty-something catching up with your former best friend. You’ve always been mature for your age, high school can do that to a person, and it makes it vastly easier to keep up with the new decade.

“So,” you help Jimin get his bags up into his apartment. A little part of it feels like a bribe as you carry all the name brands on your arms, but you chalk it up to being compensation for the last ten years, “who are the people you hang out with now? Anyone I know?”

“Well, Taehyung sometimes drops by if he’s free. He’s traveling the world now, he actually works with you,” Jimin provides the information smoothly, “only he works in the international business column. But surprisingly, the person I hang out the most with is—”

“Jungkook.”

Standing face-to-face with your old high school sweetheart disarms you, and you’re sorely reminded that just you’re a seventeen-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body.

Jungkook looks tired, and he rubs his eyes a bit as if to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You in the flesh, looking purposeful and confident as you hold three bags on each arm, each piece probably costing more than his rent. He’s filled out, what once was lean muscle and minor definition has turned into full muscle mass hidden beneath a large t-shirt and sweatpants that are two sizes too big. His face is still sweet-looking and baby-like, but his hair is overgrown and waving in front of his eyes without a care in the world.

“Did I mention we’re neighbors?” you can practically hear the wince in Jimin’s voice, probably regretting that he hid that chunk of information from you.

Jungkook tastes his name on your lips, and it sounds foriegn and strange coming from the both of you. “Good to see you,” he says, voice low.

You barely formulate a response, replying with an equally nervous “right back at ya” and then you two resume staring at each other. While Jungkook hasn’t seen you in the last ten years, you saw him yesterday. Yesterday, where you started the day all peachy keen and it spiraled downhill shortly after. It’s jarring, knowing that your body doesn’t fit your conscience.

“Well I uh,” Jungkook lifts his indicator to leave, a large garbage bag, “bye.”

Jungkook shuffles out of the small hallway, and you get a whiff of his scent. It’s still the same, fabric softener mixed with his own musk.

“I,” you start off slow, “maybe I should go talk to him?”

“No,” he warns. “You and Jungkook are completely different people now, he’s just gonna think you’re pitying him if you go up and talk to him out of the blue.”

“But we’ve always been different people.”

“You really think that?” Jimin shakes his head, “I know what happened at prom was rough but, I really didn’t think much of your relationship with Jungkook before that. It seemed like you were pretty compatible—”

“Up until the point he was kissing Jennie in matching flowers on the balcony like some kind of romance film?” you scoff, crossing your arms, “right. Super compatible.”

Jimin sighs, as if he’s chastising a teenager. “Prom happened ten years ago, don’t act like it happened yesterday. People change.”

You frown, because in your mind it did happen yesterday.

Sleeping last night was hell. It’s one thing to be completely zonked out of your mind and unsure if you’re in a dream or weird coma, but knowing that you’re going to be stuck here for awhile is painful. Your loft is too big for your tiny body, your mattress cold and empty with just you in it. Without your parents to call and you feeling wholly insecure about your rekindling with Jimin, the only person you can really call is… Seokjin.

And you really don’t want a repeat of your first night.

So you suck it up, spend your waking hours in your office and quickly learning your tasks for work. You don’t even know what time you’re supposed to clock in, but from a sticky note attached to your MacBook it seems that you have a creative meeting at 10AM. You allow yourself two hours of sleep before you get moving.

The one exciting thing about your morning is that your outfit choices are virtually limitless. You feel like Cher in Clueless, all your outfits color-coordinated and organized by season. You pick out a springy Chanel number, a pale pink tweed skirt suit that has you feeling equally parts cute and an independent working woman. You even make time to buy yourself a coffee, because that’s what adults do right?

Your office is gorgeous. Also located in the upper part of the city, the glass desk and high windows fit right in. You have an ideas board filled with various designs, fabrics and models to choose from. There’s a little frilly notebook straight out of the 2000s, all filled with phone numbers and special contacts all at your disposal. You even have your own cold press coffee machine complete with a mini-fridge.

“You’re never this early, nervous for the meeting?”

You squeal, nearly dropping your coffee as you take a tour around your office. You fight the urge to gape and point accusingly at the woman standing at your door.

“Jennie?”

“In the flesh,” she gives you a cool smirk, holding her arms out for a hug. It really throws you for a loop, and you’re left stricken in your spot as Jennie closes the gap and squeezes the life out of you. Her grey pinstripe pantsuit crumples against your softer fabric. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Jennie and you are practically besties,” Jimin sounds a little jealous while saying that, forcing you to scroll through your Instagram page to see the countless selfies of you and your high school rival, “I mean, at least that’s what the internet says. Went to college in Europe together and everything.”

So it’s true. You awkwardly pat Jennie on the back, and she doesn’t seem to mind when she pulls away and tells you to meet upstairs. You mindlessly follow after her to the conference room, wishing a kind good morning to everyone that greets you.

Once you make it upstairs, you flinch at the loud screech of your voice. “My favorite editor!” someone in a plaid red suit runs up to you and throws an arm around your shoulders. The editor-in-chief Jung Hoseok smiles brightly at you, leading you to a seat at the head of the table right next to him. You’re cosy with the editor-in-chief? This is crazy!

“G-good morning Mr. Jung,” you stutter, trying to remain cool.

“Did something happen to you this weekend?” Hoseok jests, pinching your cheek like a long lost sister. “You always call me Hobi.”

“Oh,” you force a giggle, “you don’t even know how crazy this weekend was.”

Hoseok simply laughs and gets himself settled for the meeting.

“I’m so jealous,” Jennie sing-songs, a manicured finger trailing over the back of your chair, “only the best of the best can sit next to the big boss.”

The comment has you bristling. Are you really friends? Giving her a tight smile, she saunters to another corner of the meeting. On your section of the table is your itinerary and iPad, ready for note-taking.

“One thing that we do at Ego is consistency,” Hoseok pulls up a projection of this year’s editions, all carbon copies of the same cover. “And while that is admirable, I want to put my top editors to the test and come up with the theme for next month’s issue.”

Hoseok sends you yet another pearly white smile, and due to the sheer closeness you know that secret smile is only reserved for you. That makes you squirm in your seat, already feeling the pressure building in the pit of your stomach.

“Take two days off this week to plan. Work out the days you’ll be out of the office with HR, those days you’ll be working in the city, finding ideas and inspiration for the issue. Remember, think outside the box!” Hoseok does a little fist pump, cutting through the air like his life depends on it.

The whole lot of the group continues to stare at Hoseok, waiting for his next instructions. Then, the adults begin to panic, similar to a high school class that’s been told they have a pop quiz that’s worth half their grade. You sigh internally, you suppose high school never ends.

“C’mon,” Hoseok urges, flailing his arms around, “get out there! Make moves, make money!”

But the only moves you’ve made since 2PM are fleeting trips to the bathroom.

Obviously you don’t have any memory of your degree or experience, so instead of feeling like an editor you feel more like a teenager playing dress-up. You couldn’t even sneakily ask Jennie for help because she deadpanned: “I’m not sharing any secrets, doll.” It seems that being backhandedly mean is a theme in your relationship, so after that you rolled your eyes and locked your door. Thankfully you packed a pair of sweatpants so you can comfortably lie down on the floor while you spread out your workspace. Magazines littered the hardwood, all sultry and sexy looking models staring back at you with the same half-lidded stare and overdone makeup.

It makes you cringe, thinking back to the other day when you were jealous of these people. Now that you have this life, thriving and full of beauty, is that the only thing you want to show to your audience? How can they possibly relate to models who make triple their salary? What about the authenticity? The ingenuity?

And that’s when it hits you.

Scrambling to your computer, you search up a photographer that you know will be completely and utterly transparent.

My Time Studios: Capturing the raw moment.

You know exactly what you want for next month’s issue.

Jungkook does not expect to see you through the peephole of his apartment, fiddling with the threads of your clothes and eyes glued to the ground. He mutters a curse under his breath, jamming his fingers between the metal double lock to swing his head out. He doesn’t even bother to open up all the way, just enough to stick his face out.

“Jungkook, hi!” he still can’t believe you’re around. Jungkook winces at your tone, high and sounding like a teenager. He thought by now you’d be traveling the world, climbing to bigger and better things. Then again, the upper part of the city is certainly an upgrade. He just thought you’d want to be far, far away from him. “I b-brought you McDonalds.”

You hold up a greasy bag of fast food, and his nose immediately responds to the smell of fresh fries and a quarter pounder (with cheese, of course.) It annoys him that you still know his weakness, but he isn’t going to go that easily.

“Why are you here?” he asks a little too sharply, hands gripping the doorknob.

“I wanted to offer you a job,” you get straight to the point, as if you know your time at his doorstep is limited.

He scoffs, “You? Want to put my photos on Ego? You know my business extends to weddings and the occasional Bar Mitzvah. Why would you want me?”

You frown, crossing your arms. He looks down at your attire, a nicely fitted suit on top, but the skirt is replaced with grey sweatpants. Comical, really. “I’ve always loved your photos,” you admit to him, “you know that. And they’ve gotten so much better since then.”

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows softens a fraction, smoothed by the honesty in your voice. You’re right, you always made sure to tell Jungkook how much you loved his other talents. Namely, the photography, and sometimes his singing. He can still remember how easily you slept in his arms watching Sky City for hours, all at the melody of your favorite song. While his teachers and classmates loved to venerate his position on the team and his ability to garner attention, you encouraged him to work on the things that mattered to him the most, even in secret.

Nevertheless, that was ten years ago.

“I don’t need your charity,” he spits, “Jimin might be able to be bought by some designer clothes and an eighty dollar steak, but not me.”

The pain in your gaze is glaringly evident, and you don’t even try to hide that you’re upset as the paper bag falls against your lap. If there’s one thing Jungkook knows he’s good at, is hurting your feelings.

“You think this is charity?” you whisper, hurt delicately lacing your voice.

“Are you kidding? Last month you got Xu Minghao to photograph your spread for Ego. He’s photographed the damn Queen of England,” if you notice that he’s babbling about reading your magazine, you don’t show it in your face, “the point is, I don’t understand why you’re trying to come into my life again. I don’t want to get involved in your fancy dinner galas or anyone else from high school. So please, just go back to your picture perfect life.”

And without another qualm he slams the door in your face, effectively shutting you out. It doesn’t feel as good as he wants it to feel, clearly. He feels even shitter than before. His eyes glaze over to his rickety coffee table, cluttered with bills and credit card payments that should’ve been dealt with a long time ago.

He slugs himself over to his couch, throwing his body over the couch that’s way too short. His legs dangle in mid-air, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunset. The bills can wait a little longer. Seeing you was too draining.

The nap turns into a full-fledged night’s sleep, and by the time he wakes up the sky is dark and it’s the start of a new day. 12:08, the screen of his iPhone confirms. Feeling even crustier and worse than before, his stomach decides to harden the blow and go straight for the gut. He’s sorely reminded of the food you offered him hours ago.

Quickly pulling on a large denim jacket, he grabs his keys and heads for the 7-Eleven down the park. Nothing like a frozen pizza to fill the gut, fast and cheap. Despite the fact that it’s dark and late, there're still some stray people in the park. A few homeless, some high school stoners who are meeting in secret, and you are typing away on your MacBook.

Wait, what?

You’re sitting on a bench in the park, typing away without a care in the world. Shoving soggy fries that he earlier refused in your mouth, you let a couple stray potatoes hang from your lips as your eyes succumb to the screen. You look positively silly, still in a pink blazer and baggy sweatpants.

He must have been staring a little too long, because soon enough you turn your head, gasping at his figure. You quickly avert your eyes, but don’t make any move to leave the park. That interests him further.

Shamelessly, he calls your name. His legs get to you in an instant, towering over your tiny figure.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I’m waiting for Jimin,” your eyes flicker to your open laptop, “and working.”

At least one of those reasons is a lie. Last time he checked, Jimin always sleeps over at Yoongi’s house on this day. He knows it’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie, but neither of you make the effort to correct it.

“And what could you possibly be working on at 12AM?”

“Finding a photographer,” you hunch over your laptop, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have much time and none of my usual contacts are good enough. This project is… personal.”

It makes him want to ask further, he can’t lie and say he isn’t intrigued in the kind of vision you’re going for in your next issue. “But why can’t you work at home?”

“Don’t wanna go,” you reply casually, “it makes me feel lonely.”

Lonely? You feel lonely? He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated at the display of nonchalance. Back in high school he always encouraged you to feel confident, but not like this. “Hey, it’s nice that you feel comfortable enough to chill in the park at 12AM, but it’s really dumb. You’re lucky you haven’t gotten mugged from all that money you’re carrying around!” he gestures to your fancy clothes and laptop, “and if you feel so lonely, call up one of your rich friends I’m sure they’ll—”

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you slam your laptop shut, darkening the two of you. “I thought you wanted me to go back to my ‘picture perfect life’, so why do you care?” you get up in his face, standing on the bench so you’re nearly eye-to-eye, “why don’t you pester those kids over there? Tell them to drink their milk and go home,” you scoff, shoving your stuff in your bag. You don’t spare him another glance as you stalk off in the other direction.

He groans, unable to untangle himself from the mess, “Where are you going?”

“To a park where you’re not in!”

Despite the exchange for sweatpants, you’re still wearing shoes not fit for walking. They’re little white pumps, not too tall but not remarkably comfy either. However, that doesn’t deter you from getting the heck out of there, seemingly walking in any possible direction to get away from Jungkook.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he chastises once his hand clasps around your hand, pulling you around.

There’s a little resistance, as you try to hide your face to no avail. Jungkook fumbles a little, not thinking you’d be crying. But tiny, shy tears are pooling around your eyes, looking flustered at your display of emotion.

“God,” you mutter to yourself, “I feel like such a kid.”

That strikes a chord in the twenty-something man. The last time he saw you in the flesh was when you were both kids. Young, unbridled, and stupid. Well, only Jungkook was the stupid one.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Jungkook offers, feeling guilty about his roughness.

You shake your head. “No, I told you I don’t want to.”

“Can I at least call you a cab? Or a friend so you won’t get lonely?”

“Jungkook, if I had that option would you think I’d be here right now?” he’s trying, he really is. But you’re equally as miffed about this whole situation and at a loss. The two of you engage in a staring contest. It only takes a few seconds for you to crumble, and he frowns when you shiver in your thin blazer.

Instantly, he rips off his jacket, pulling it over your body. It’s huge on you, swallowing your body and hopefully containing some of his residual heat.

And finally, he relents. “If you want, I’ll come over and stay until you fall asleep.”

“Okay,” your eyes widen in instant agreement, pulling something out of your pocket. “Will you drive?”

His eyes widen at the shiny, minimalistic car key. Your sudden one-eighty has him second guessing his decision. “You drive a Tesla?” he gapes, taking your key like he’s holding the Hope Diamond.

You got your license in February. One month ago, and only because the instructor felt pity on you since it was your second time retaking it. The fancy car terrifies you, and you’re sure Jungkook has much more experience driving (over ten years worth.)

You shrug, “Not very good at driving. Haven’t had much practice.”

“Um, the car drives itself?”

“It does?” you tilt your head, dazed, “wow, technology is amazing.”

He shakes his head, putting a hand on your back so you can lead the way. You must be tired, because it seems like your head isn’t entirely there anymore. He takes charge, buckles you in and takes a couple minutes to fumble with the car settings. Nevertheless the drive home is smooth (and it takes all of Jungkook’s willpower to not squeal in excitement when the Tesla does in fact, drive itself.)

You lead him inside your loft like a tiny zombie, throwing your shoes to one corner and throwing your jacket on the kitchen table.

“Must be hungry,” you can’t even form complete sentences, “there’s food in the fridge, Kook. Sorry if it’s not to your taste.”

Shuffling away to your room, Jungkook is left to gawk at your apartment. The baseboards of your walls are crusted in pretty pearl designs, swirling around the whole expanse. There’s a television that stretches the wall of the little living room, with a sound and video game system he’s only seen in movies. Your tables are meters and meters of granite, and he wonders how the floor of your apartment can hold all this weight.

But he supposes it’s because there’s nothing much to hold. No pictures line the walls, only vague looking art to fill up blank space. There’s no touch of warmth despite the heating system under the floor that relaxes his toes. For such a big home, he can only imagine how small you must feel in it.

Your fridge is just as empty, decorated with a couple of sad-looking salads and some protein shakes. He sighs, grabbing two chicken salads and a banana shake and bringing it to your coffee table. It’s a little two quiet for his liking, so he turns on the television real low just to make the room feel a bit fuller.

Halfway through one salad he realizes he probably should’ve made you eat as well. Even though these salads aren’t remotely filling, they’re much healthier than some soggy fries. A piece of limp lettuce hangs from Jungkook’s mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for soaking up all of your amenities without inviting you. After all, it is your house. Wiping some sauce from his lips he dusts off his pants, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he makes his way to your room.

Calling your name, the only reply is the whir of the heater. He only cracks the door a tad, but he sees you slumped against the edge of the bed, bare feet hanging from the end. You barely made it, your clothes strewn across the floor, an oversized t-shirt ruched across your barely covered thighs. Without a thought he quickly scrambles to move you closer to your pillows, and then wraps your body in your plush duvet. You’re out like a light.

You’re sleeping, so Jungkook should go home. That’s what you two agreed to. He goes back to his late dinner (early breakfast?) mindlessly listening to an infomercial on rare dollar coins. He’ll leave after he eats.

He didn’t leave.

Jungkook awakes to a scream, your shrill voice echoing all the way down the hallway into your living room. It takes a second for him to register the empty white walls and the fact that he’s not in his apartment, but eventually it goes back to the point that you’re in distress. He jolts, scrambling off the couch to run to your bedroom.

“What is it?” he exhales into your doorframe, socks sliding.

Your hair is in a disarray, shirt rumpled and face scrunched in pain. You shove your phone in his face. “Since when did Iron Man die!” you cry, genuinely horrified at whatever entertainment article you’re reading.

He slumps against the wall, running a hand over his dry face. “Since Endgame, obviously. That was literally two years ago. Is that why you woke me up?”

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”

“Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Or something,” you frown, throwing your phone across your bed, “I guess I should go get ready for work.”

Jungkook watches as you shamelessly hop off your bed, uncaring that your shirt has ridden up, revealing the full expanse of your thighs and then some. You pull out a pair of sweats from a shopping bag, nicking off the tag to put them on your legs.

“Do you have work?” you ask casually.

“Uh, no,” Jungkook coughs, crossing his arms. It’s been awhile since he’s had a solid gig. Two whole weeks have been spent doing more personal work which was fine, but at the same time his bank account could beg to differ. “I’m off today.”

“Oh, alright,” you shrug, “do you know where I can buy a good camera?”

“Why?”

“Gonna go take pictures,” you snatch your wallet and keys from your bedside, stuffing it in a fanny pack. He watches you curiously as you zip your bag shut, muttering something about how you can’t believe that fanny packs are back in style. Swinging the strap over your back, you brush past him. “You can stay if you want,” you add pointedly, before you slip into the bathroom.

Jungkook doesn’t understand as to why he’s slipping into sensory overload. The house is a shell of itself and the antithesis of a rainbow. Maybe it’s the fact that he woke up ten minutes ago or how you look completely peaceful and want to leave as soon as you wake up. Or how shocked you were that Iron Man has passed and you’ve completely missed Phase 3. Or that you’re not even thinking about breakfast or not wishing him a farewell, practically throwing him into your apartment like a second home.

He wobbles back to the couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as he drapes the fuzzy blankets over his body. He flips through the channels, before finally settling on an old episode of Sky City.

When you walk out into the living room, you scrunch your face in pain when you make eye contact with Kim Seokjin’s on screen appearance. Oh, how things change. Jungkook knew how much you loved watching Sky City, indulging in the protagonist's attractiveness.

“Y’know,” Jungkook says over his shoulder, “if you leave me here, I could steal whatever I want.”

“Go ahead,” you reply flippantly, already slipping on your sneakers. “There’s nothing of value here.”

What is wrong with you?

“Wait!” Jungkook throws all his pride at the window, unable to conceal his worry for you. Half your body is out the doorway, and you’re looking at him like he’s grown a second head. His voice takes up the entirety of the room, startling you. “I need to come with you,” he finally settles on, looking serious. “You’re going to buy the wrong camera.”

“Okay,” you concede immediately, throwing the keys on the couch, “you drive.”

Jungkook must know something’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act around him. Your heart is hurt and your body is a decade older than it was a week ago and everything in your life and mind is a complete wreck. It still aches to look at him, despite the fact that you want him around, all the time. You wish you could know a little more about your adult life, you feel like a proverbial Bambi sitting in a car worth more than your childhood home. It’s a wobbly, shaky road to adulthood, and you’re not having it.

Jungkook sleeping over is the last thing you thought would happen last night. You didn’t even think he’d relent to coming to your house, since he was pretty hellbent on not being your photographer.

But now he’s driving your Tesla again, after you instructed him to park the car where you parked it last time. That way, you can go back to the playground you were in the night before. You have a vision for the issue and it starts there. Fiddling around with the expensive camera Jungkook picked out, you feel his gaze burning into your shoulder.

“Am I doing something wrong?” you ask archly, “I read the manual and everything. Or are you just being a perfectionist again?”

“What’s wrong with being a perfectionist?” Jungkook shoots back, putting the car in park. As soon as the car stills in the parking lot, he grabs the camera from your grasp like a petulant child. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t break it. Face it, you’re terrible at technology.”

“Excuse me! I have a Samsung 25+ and a Tesla!”

“Yeah? So why did I catch you struggling to use your pay feature on your phone when we grabbed coffee?”

“It’s new,” you mutter under your breath. Everything is new to you.

With a growl you snatch back the camera, and Jungkook for once doesn’t act like a baby with a sharing complex and relents. Of course, Jungkook manages to calibrate the camera and figure out the color balance before you could. This only annoys you further, wondering why Jungkook is still sticking around after all this time.

“Alright,” you step out of the car, slinging the camera around your neck. “Thanks for driving me around, your apartment’s just down the street, right?” You dart your hand out, and Jungkook reluctantly hands over your key beeper. Maybe it’s because he seems to love the car so much, that he has a hard time giving it back. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait,” is that his word of the day? Wait wait wait.

“What is it now, Jungkook?”

He’s never seen you so full of negative emotions. You’ve been waiting for him to tire of you all day, from your clipped replies and unease ever since you two stepped out of your apartment.

“Um,” he looks embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, “are you really going to take pictures? You always took really blurry pictures in high school.”

The mention of high school has you icy, gripping the matte black digital camera to hold your feelings at bay. “Yes, I’m going to go take pictures because the photographer I wanted so rudely rejected me,” you revel in the way he shrinks, probably regretful already. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline.”

He continues to follow you, all the way to the park. You make your way to a little garden, and start to take some test photos next to the little daisies that decorate the patch of dirt. You practically feel Jungkook breathing down your neck, feeling antsy everytime you click the shutter. Ignoring him is difficult, especially when he makes little noises of discomfort when you presumably do something wrong.

“Jungkook, are you going to say something?” you seethe, not caring that the heavy camera strains your neck when it falls against your chest, “or are you just going to make me wait.”

Jungkook’s face is scrunched up, and finally he blurts, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For saying your life is picture perfect,” he sputters quickly, looking very sweaty. Jungkook always got sweaty when he did things a little too hard. Playing sports, thinking, campaigning on video games. “I—I didn’t mean it. I don’t know. I guess I was just upset at myself and I took it out on you.”

“Well why are you upset at yourself?”

“I’m upset because I—I don’t know, it’s complicated,” he plops down on the nearest bench, and while you follow him, you don’t let yourself sit next to him. If you do, you know your subconscious will want to wrap your arms around him and comfort him. That would probably be the worst possible action to perform. “I don’t really do the whole photoshoot thing. Like I said, I’m just doing some weddings and parties here and there. I shouldn’t have said those things about Jimin and how you’re only talking to us out of charity. It’s my fault for not considering how complicated your life could be too,” he looks down at the ground, shameful, “so if you still want me, I would really like to photograph for Ego. And I would also really like that camera back.”

Unable to resist, you reach over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “I forgive you,” you reply numbly, thinking he was going to apologize for something else. You suppose he’s forgotten about that fateful prom night, just like everyone else. “It’s actually not for Ego, at least not yet. My boss is pitting us against each other, the best idea wins the cover theme.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll win,” his face eventually breaks into a grin when you remove the camera from your body. “Come to daddy, baby,” he cooes, holding the shiny new camera in his hands like a newborn.

“Gross,” you twitch, although you’re feeling all the more relieved knowing Jungkook will now be taking the visual reins. “You haven’t had a chance to look at the contract made up, but being paid five-hundred okay?”

“Five-hundred a week?”

“No, per day,” you correct, “why wouldn’t I pay you just like I pay the others?”

Jungkook’s dark brows fly to his forehead. He practically chokes on his spit at the way you put Jungkook in high regard. A blush overtakes his visage, proud and pink as he rushes to get away from you.

“You don’t even know my concept,” you called after him, chasing the midday sun.

Jungkook is already in position, fitting the lens between two buildings. The afternoon sun looks like an egg yolk, melting between the clouds. “Well then is it?” he asks, bending down on one knee to get the perfect angle.

“Well, yesterday when I thought of the idea I just wanted to be reminded of how easy being a kid was,” you don’t even know if Jungkook’s listening properly, given the rapid click click clicks of the shutter and Jungkook constantly moving around to get as many shots as possible. “I realized that not everyone can relate to the models or the clothes we advertise on Ego. Why would I want to see people I actually admire? Like, my friend’s older brother. Or Jimin, president of the drama club. Or even Jungkook, captain of the lacrosse team.”

“So, nostalgia. The 2000s are back in style, I like it,” he replies simply, tilting the camera towards you, “pose for me.”

“What? Jungkook,” you frown, holding a hand over your face. He doesn’t relent, continuing to snap you in different angles.

“Oh! That was a nice one,” he turns the camera to reveal the screen of your furrowed brows, hand over your face, “looks super grunge. Totally a throwback look.”

“Jungkook, I don’t model. I’m just the one who throws the ideas.”

“Yeah, but. Wouldn’t it be cool if the readers of Ego could see the genius behind the paper and ink?” he gestures vaguely to your outfit, “and you’re wearing Fila. So that’s like, kind of designer?”

“I don’t know,” you hug yourself, “I’ll think about it, okay? Let’s focus.”

“Fine,” Jungkook stops buzzing around you, putting the camera down and following you as you walk back to your car. You don’t think you really need anymore park photos, and Jungkook seems to telepathically agree as well.

“We need to plan some outfits and some backgrounds. I’ve already arranged a meet up tomorrow in front of our old high school with a couple of models. The school is on a grade-wide trip, so we’ll even have access to the track and field. I was also thinking disposable film? We could scan those.”

“Alright, who are your models?”

“Oh, you know. Just friends from school. I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. Taehyung flew back from Hamburg last night, so he said he’ll come. Jimin, obviously.”

“Well you only had like, two friends in highschool.”

“And you,” you clip on with a frown, “so don’t dress like a potato sack tomorrow, okay?”

“I’m not modeling.”

“Well, I’m still looking for a celebrity model to tack onto so. Don’t look like a chump.” you stick out your hand, while Jungkook pouts at your outstretched limb. If he feels sore that you called him a chump, he doesn’t comment on it when he clasps his larger hand in yours. “Partners?”

“Partners.”

“Why didn’t you tell me your celebrity model was him?”

“I specifically told you not to dress like a paper bag. Why did you continue to do so!”

“You didn’t specify that your model was Kim Seokjin!”

The current conversation is hushed, hissed between large reflective light panels and a parked car that held all your rented equipment. Currently, Taehyung, Seokjin and Jimin are huddled on the bleachers of your old stomping grounds, laughing at whatever funny video Seokjin has pulled up. They’re all dressed in variants of the same sweatsuit, a combination of Taehyung’s choosing since he’s one of the many color coordinators at Ego.

But you haven’t started yet, and you would like to get some morning shots in before it gets any warmer. Jungkook is still petulant, pretending to buy time by balancing his tripod. He’s wearing his Birkenstocks, so old they’re definitely the same pair from highschool, and yet another black sweatsuit.

“Seokjin’s like a big, fat cheeseball,” you assure Jungkook, who’s actually shaking from being in the presence of a celebrity. “No reason to be nervous.”

“That man has literally been part of our Sitcom Sundays for three years,” he gripes, “of course I’m nervous!”

“Just go to the car. If you want to change I’m sure Taehyung’s brought something that fits you.”

“Well if they see me change they’re gonna see I’m trying too hard,” Jungkook pouts, he actually pouts.

“I can’t,” you turn around, your Miss Frizzle-esque solar system dress whirling around your waist. The stars twinkle, glittering into Jungkook’s eyes. “Jungkook, do whatever you want. But we need to start in ten! No, five! I’m not paying you to try on Balenciaga and Off-Brand!”

If Jungkook is shocked by your sudden snippiness or need to get things wrapped up, he doesn’t say anything to it. For once, he’s quiet about his needs and you’re thankful for it. Once he’s gone, you have a chance to breathe. It’s all wholly overwhelming to dive right into the job. Your brain is still in 2011 unfortunately.

“Babe, everything alright?”

Seokjin appears behind you, having ditched Jimin and Taehyung after he saw you and Jungkook argue. He smooths his hands over your biceps. You’re still unsure over the exact nature of your adult-self’s relationship, but it seems that sans sex you two are relatively close with each other.

“M’fine,” you mumble tiredly, trying not to stiffen under his hold. You suppose Jimin isn’t going to be the friend you confide into this lifetime. “I’m just nervous. We’re doing all this work and it can potentially go down the drain after this week. What if my idea’s stupid and we’re wasting time? Jennie texted me that her concept is going to be killer and now I’m scared this concept is too aesthetically soft and people don’t care about nostalgia anymore and I feel like simultaneously throwing up and crying—”

“Whoa whoa, who’s replaced my confident editor and where did she go?” Seokjin decidedly goes with the notion that you’re definitely not fine. He swings his neck back and forth, peering behind the bleachers and over the football field. “My confident editor would never talk bad of herself like this! She commanded a whole crew of fifty within seconds when she did the Kim Taeyeon shoot in Milan! She never cowers under a challenge, the challenge cowers to her!” and in his gallancy you no longer try to shy away, in fact you even giggle at his silly way of comforting you. “And most importantly, she’d never compare herself to a wench like Jennie.”

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to swipe the moisture right under your waterline, making sure any traces of your crying are undetectable. “W-wait,” you sputter, “you mean, me and Jennie aren’t actually friends?”

He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “Even now, you’re such a good actress.”

You let Seokjin continue to hold you as the pieces in your empty mind come together. If Jennie is truly not your friend and you two have been faking it all this time, how serious is it? And if so, are you the competitive type? You know for sure Jennie is, and will she stop at nothing to make sure she gets the spread?

This fear is combined with an equal amount of sadness. You were a little excited to have a lasting friend from college, but your mother always told you to never believe anything on the internet. You suppose those selfies of you and Jennie on your Instagram are nothing but a facade.

But at the very least Seokjin’s care for you isn’t fake, and you’re thankful that you have at least one friend in this life. If you didn’t do this time skip, would Seokjin remain your only friend? You try not to think too hard about it, “Thanks, Seokjin. I really appreciate you.”

“Will you appreciate me tonight then?” Seokjin makes a move to kiss your neck, and the moment is promptly ruined.

Shoving him away you say firmly, “Touch me like that again and I’ll rip your dick off in front of this whole crew.”

“I love it when you get feisty,” Seokjin melts, but salutes you like a drill sergeant as he runs back to the men on the bleachers.

It’s then you feel a presence looming over your shoulder. Tall, dark, and emanating. He’s changed, in favor of some fitted jeans and a plain white shirt, paired with black boots. Jungkook is behind you, glaring over your shoulder at Seokjin. So much for showing off your professionalism. Crap, how much of that did he hear?

“Jungkook, I–”

“Let’s start,” he mutters gruffly, stepping past you to get to the equipment.

You slap a hand over your face. It’s going to be a long day.

However, the hours following are probably one of the brightest hours of your life since you’ve appeared in your future-self’s body. At first Jimin was anxious at your invitation, despite being in the high school plays and being okay at public speaking, he didn’t know he’d have the potential to be a model. A couple test shots and some coaching from Taehyung, Jimin is a natural, his photogenic energy strong enough to compete toe-to-toe with Seokjin.

You also have to hand it to Taehyung, who has been running back and forth between modeling and choosing outfits for the boys. Jimin and you didn’t run in the same group as Taehyung back in high school, but time changes things and if given the opportunity, you would’ve loved to be friends with him back then.

By the time you are done for the day and you feel like all the possible shots have all ready been taken, you circle around the school. You previously went inside empty classrooms, posed in the cafeteria, even pretended to reenact your school rendition of RENT in the auditorium.

Everything is mostly packed up and put into the car by the time the sun is setting, and you just wanted to perfect this one shot.

The gymnasium looks a lot smaller than it did as a child. As a teenager, you constantly feared getting hit in the face by a stray wiffleball, or throwing up during the pacer test after the 100th lap. But now, it just looks like an old gym.

“It smells like sweaty balls in there,” Taehyung curses, adjusting the patterned button down by smoothing down his chest. He jabs a finger in the boys locker room, where Jimin comes out with another new outfit.

“I think the sandwich I left in senior year is still there,” Jimin adds, pulling the collar around his burgundy knitted sweater.

The back of the gym is decorated in balloons. Overnight you managed to build a balloon ring off of Pinterest, one of your proudest moments as you made Jungkook haul the rainbow colored arc and shove it into the trunk. Seokjin is sitting directly under the arc, decorating a letter corkboard. It’s one of those cork boards all the teachers display in class, often decorated with some witty quote or a basic “Welcome to Mr/Mrs/Miss _____’s Class!”

Jungkook is setting up the camera on a tripod, wanting to do it the old fashioned way. Aside from the freakout he had in the beginning when he realized he was photographing Kim Seokjin, he’s been quiet and strictly professional throughout the whole ordeal. It’s amazing to see this side of him, as he seamlessly transitions from shoot to shoot knowing exactly what he has in mind for each photograph. His direction is soft but impactful, and the boys have no problems following directions.

“Okay boys, everyone under the arc!”

Working like this is a rush you can’t even imagine. In high school the path you were in the process of choosing wasn’t clear cut up until this point, but now you know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life.

Seokjin holds the finished corkboard in the middle, a proud Class of Ego in white block letters.

Jungkook only gets a few shots in before Seokjin bemoans, letting the corkboard fall in his lap.

“Guys, this picture’s gonna stink.”

Jungkook’s appalled, “Excuse me—”

“Because you two aren’t in it!” Taehyung agrees easily, “c’mon, JK. Put your camera on timer mode and let’s have all of us in it!”

A blush melts on Jungkook’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “What? No, that’s silly Tae. I really don’t—agh!”

The three men are in a controlled frenzy, aiming to get their mission done. Seokjin rounds the camera and makes quick work of enabling a timer and a burst shot. Jimin pulls you by the waist, tugging you ungracefully to the center of the arc. Taehyung is doing a pretty good job of hauling your muscle hunk of a photographer, pressing his shoulders across yours.

And finally, Seokjin hands you the corkboard. “You should be holding it. After all, you’re the brains behind it!”

At first it feels awkward, squished between new friends and old friends. First loves and last loves. Despite his warm bicep pressing against you, Jungkook is akin to a sheet of cardboard, arm-to-arm and stiff as a board.

“Alright people, let’s move it!” Seokjin yells unnecessarily loud, the noise echoing throughout the high walls. “Last couple shots here, and we’re not re-doing it because I’m tired as hell! So look alive and pretend to like each other!”

The first click of the camera stuns all of you, akin to many terrible school photos where the flash disarms you and your face twists. But that click suddenly gets Jungkook into gear, and you feel him slide a hand over your shoulder, squeezing you toward him so you’re pressed against the side of his chest. He still smells like floral fabric softener, and that makes you smile.

And suddenly you feel like you’re seventeen again, surrounded with the people you care for the most.

“So, the tabloids are true huh?” Jimin smirks, waving a flimsy fry in your face.

“T-tabloids?” you sputter, dabbing the ketchup off your cheek. The greasy burger slips off your grip and onto your plate. Your expression says it all, it’s painfully innocent and genuinely confused as you attempt to swallow the cheese and lettuce as fast as possible.

The crew sans Seokjin is eating a very late dinner with you at the restaurant of their choice. They put it to a vote, while you desperately wanted some McDonalds everyone else voted for a more high end restaurant. After all, you’re paying.

“Ah, don’t try playing coy with us,” Taehyung jests, “the office talks.”

“Well, whatever you’ve heard isn’t true,” you huff, crossing your arms. “At least, not anymore.”

“What?” Taehyung bugs out, “I thought you loved your no strings attached relationship with Jinnie.”

“I guess I did,” you frown, deflating against the plush booth, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I liked back then.”

You resume eating your burger, trying to ignore the worried look Jimin sends you. He reaches over the table to press his thumb to the little 11s in your forehead, a product of stress. “Does your head still hurt?” he asks.

Jungkook’s chewing slows considerably. He’s been strangely quiet this evening, opting to order a handful of appetizers and gorging on every single edible thing on the table like a glutton. But at Jimin’s question he turns his head to look at you, “Why would your head still hurt?”

“She hit her head when she went out drinking with Seokjin last week,” Jimin supplies, “messed with her memory.”

“Chim,” you frown, gently shoving him off you, “I’m fine now. Pretty much caught up. Just reevaluating my life choices, okay?”

“How could Seokjin let that happen?” Jungkook asks, putting his fork down.

“He wasn’t even there,” you shake your head, trying to clear Seokjin’s name as fast as possible. After all, this lie is completely fabricated, a blanket to cover the magical properties your true nature being here has. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Don’t worry about me.”

He huffs, resuming his meal. “Wasn’t worried,” he disarms, reaching over the table to snatch a mozzarella stick.

You cover up your disgusted expression by wiping your chin with a soft blue napkin. Jungkook is really out here inhaling the whole table and being a bit of a jerk.

“Well,” Taehyung claps his hands together, regarding all of you with a closed-lipped smile stretched so wide you’re worried he’ll break. “This is nice. I can’t imagine a time where I’d be reunited with you three. It’s weird. But a good weird.”

“Ditto,” Jimin echoes, lifting his glass to clink with Taehyung’s. Throwing an arm over your shoulder he remarks, “could’ve never imagined my ‘ol best friend would’ve wanted to pursue fashion.”

“What?” you glower, pinching his thigh, “I love fashion! I spent months planning my Clueless Halloween costume and our summers cosplaying!”

“Right, Cher,” teased Jimin, “that yellow plaid suit that made you look like a bottle of mustard?”

“You little–”

Taehyung begins to laugh when you start to tickle Jimin in the sweet spots, causing Jimin to curl his leg around your ankle and pull you onto his lap for a hair pull. It’s all in fun and nothing hurts, but you’re so caught up in it you’re sure people are worried about your well-being. Even Jungkook is laughing, egging Jimin on while Taehyung weakly attempts to pull you away.

If you could rewrite the last ten years of your life, this moment would define the remake.

“Why are we here?”

“For research purposes.”

“Are you sure the actual purpose is because you don’t feel like working in the office?”

“Jungkook,” you groan, tired of his infinite amount of negativity. “This was our senior trip! Of course I want to get a couple shots in before my big presentation.”

“You’re risking my baby’s life,” Jungkook cradles the digital camera closer to his chest, swaddling it between its felt case. Ever since you purchased the camera, Jungkook has been unable to let it go. This adoption is both equal parts cute and strange, and you’re a little too scared to ask for it back.

“I promise, no big rides,” you roll your eyes, “your baby will be fine.”

The local amusement park is a fan-favorite amongst the city-goers, a reprieve from the hustle and a chance for you to spend your copious amounts of money on overpriced sugar and popcorn. The last time you went here was two weeks ago—in your mind. In Jungkook’s mind it was over ten years ago and he probably doesn’t even remember the time spent roaming the artificial floor and the infinite amount of bubbles that seem to eject from the air to add to the whimsical charm.

Jungkook isn’t even paying attention, citing it as an artist block because he’s going through sensory overload with the amount of stimuli in the crowd. Screaming teenagers wailing under him from a nearby rollercoaster, the smell of sticky caramel apples pumping through the diffuser stands, and the amount of gaudy color that decorates every single logo of the park.

He plops himself down on a nearby bench while you wait in line to get some food. It’s early in the morning and a weekday, so you figure this is the best time to get some photographs in without any passerbys. You figure Jungkook will get the hang of it once he has some food in his stomach.

“A funnel cake?” Jungkook is bewildered when you return with the confection in hand, “it’s ten A.M.”

You raise a brow, knowing how much Jungkook loves sweet foods. The funnel cake especially, he ate at least three when you went to your senior trip, one for every meal. But you’re an adult, or at least posing as one, and you shrug loftily, plucking a hot piece of fried dough from your plate. “Alright then,” you reply, “I’ll just eat the whole thing.”

Once the cake touches your tongue, you can’t help but make an exaggerated moan in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook squirming like an earthworm next to you, either from the scrumptious smell of funnel cake or the way you’re so enthusiastically eating it.

“W-wait,” Jungkook’s stomach growls at the perfect moment, “I want some. But I don’t want to get the camera dirty, pass me a napkin.”

“I can just feed it to you!” you quip innocently, immediately ripping off a piece and shoving it between Jungkook’s pink lips. You feel a little slick in the finger, saliva briefly coating your digits before you pull away. You swallow, feeling a familiar tingle in your tummy and a sickening heat low in your belly.

You fight back a sigh, wondering if your libido also did a massive growth spurt in your twenty-seven years of age.

Jungkook is placated at the touch of food, and you take turns feeding yourself and feeding him while more customers trickle in the park. Confectioners sugar dusts Jungkook’s long-sleeved tee, the white color staining the dark fabric. You reach to pat his chest, ignoring the toneness that still remains from high school.

“Alright, let’s ride,” you declare, pulling Jungkook up once you’re done eating.

“Do we have to?”

“What happened to the adrenaline junkie I once knew?”

“He realized being an adrenaline junkie doesn’t make money and he should stay on the ground.”

“Alright, Negative Nancy,” your reply has no bite to it, and suddenly you wished you invited Jimin or Seokjin before Jungkook. Jungkook may have the talent, but he certainly doesn’t have the attitude. You don’t even get why he’s still defensive, after all you thought he apologized in the beginning. It’s not like you’re the problem.

“Gimmie your hand,” your thoughts cut out when Jungkook offers his large hand in front of yours, palm up.

“Why?”

“C’mon,” he whines, settling for snatching your hand instead. His palms feel larger, rougher as they enclose your smaller hand. “Now hurry up and walk in front of me. I’m gonna take a picture.”

You already have a feeling as to what this picture is going to look like, so you scrunch your nose. “That is so cheesy.”

“It’s for the nostalgia factor, now hurry up and pretend we’re on a date.”

You roll your eyes but relent, jogging a few steps ahead so you can get into character. This pose used to be a popular one, where the sweet boyfriend would be dragged around by the girlfriend’s hand, tugging him to wherever she wanted to go. It’s super cliche but if Jungkook figures it’ll fit your theme, you’ll do it. Eventually you forget that you’re holding his hand, and point ahead to some rides you want to try out.

“Oh, Jungkook! Remember that one?” you point to a teacup ride, with guests spinning vigorously through their own seat. “Jimin got so sick he fell asleep in the car for an hour!”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, so you turn around and face him. Click. Jungkook smirks at his little trick, which makes you rip your hand from his and walk further.

“Hey, hey,” he chuckles, the first smile of the day. Food really does make him peaceful. “The shot looks good, you look good.”

“Could’ve just asked me to turn around and pose,” you huff.

“Then it would ruin the fun,” he replies, “now c’mon, let’s ride the teacups. For old time’s sake.”

Ten minutes later and the both of you are soon regretting that decision. You’re once again slumped on the bench, this time unable to keep your head up so you rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder while he leans on your head.

“Haven’t rode that since I was a teenager,” Jungkook moans, holding his stomach. “Remind me not to eat so fast before getting on that kind of ride.”

You mirror his expression, feeling green. “Is this what late-adult life feels like?”

“Yep,” Jungkook replies, unbeknownst of how shocked you are at how weak your body has become. “You wake up with back pain, pre-arthritis from all the typing you’ve done over the last decade, and a lot of stress. Definitely not the fantasy you’d imagine from your 20s.”

“You think you’d be less stressed if you kept your lacrosse scholarship?”

“Nah, I think I saved myself,” Jungkook shakes his head, “before I could be any more awful than I already was.”

You refuse that notion, sending him a bitter smile. “Well, look at me. I became awful right after high school.”

“I didn’t mean you—”

“I know,” you hold up a hand to stop him. The two of you follow a red path up the hill, leading to a simple cable car ride. It’s a slow travel ride, made to get from one side of the park to the other with a beautiful view over the lake. “But you see those tabloid articles. They must be true.”

“I—I didn’t think they were all true,” Jungkook’s lying through his teeth to make you feel better, but you don’t care. “Why do you sound unsure?”

You shrug, “Probably wasn’t sober for most of my bad decisions,” considering your friendship with Seokjin and his boisterous drinking attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised, “If they weren’t true, I believe Jimin and I would’ve stayed friends. I can’t imagine why I left my home like that. But I guess it doesn’t matter too much because I came back. And I mean, we’re here together doing work,” you gesture between the small space between each other, “I think that counts for something.”

The two of you walk in silence for a bit, contemplating. The line to the cable car isn’t long but it’s slow, considering the cable only moves a couple meters a second. The take-off area is a risen slab of concrete, and the cars are continuously moving so you have to hop on one car as soon as another guest exits.

There’s a little bit of space between it, a centimeter gap that could be nerve wracking if there’s no staff around. You think nothing of it as you fiddle on your phone, waiting for the staff member to let you and Jungkook in on the next car.

Jungkook enters first, taking great care to cradle the camera in one hand so it doesn’t sway against the car. The car swings a little as well, and Jungkook holds out a hand for you to grab.

Instead you focus on how the once bright glassy pink is sun-ravished, faded and rusting on the metal door flaps. The color is almost pearlescent, vastly different than the vivid color you saw two weeks ago. You almost want to reach out and touch it, wondering where that quality went.

“Bun, be careful!”

The tip of your heel nicks on the stepping stone, slipping like butter as you topple forward. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hauling you into the car just as the metal door locks into place. The hard plastic of the camera digs into your chest uncomfortably as you plop on top of Jungkook, between his legs as half his thighs rest against the uncomfortable seat.

“Were you not watching where you were going?” Jungkook huffs, blowing his bangs over his forehead.

Instead of an artful answer you blurt, “You, you called me Bun.”

His eyes widen at your response, and his grip loosens around your body. His eyes dart anywhere but your face, his cheeks ruddied and stained coral as he moves to remove you from his body. “It was a slip of the tongue,” he coughs, turning on his camera and getting shots of the lake.

You huff in response, sticking to your side of the carriage. “I missed it,” you murmur to the wind, although you make yourself loud enough for him to hear.

You try to bury your sour expression in your sleeves, just to hide how absolutely childish you feel. You don’t even care that Jungkook is trying to take pictures of you looking out the view, only trying to eradicate the feelings that are still down deep in your blood. Even the twenty-seven year old Jungkook is charming, albeit in a completely different way.

The grown, mature Jungkook toots to his own horn. He isn’t concerned about a team or an image, and gave it all up to pursue an art he loves. The lacrosse jerseys exchanged for bulky long sleeves, the sport for a camera, and a mask for his true image.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook takes your hand again when the ride stops, not letting go until you’re on steady ground. You figure he must think you walk like a toddler barely on her first mile.

Would Jungkook like you even as an adult? With all this money, this power and this confidence you envisioned as a seventeen-year-old, it still doesn’t feel enough for him. In fact, you feel like a sore thumb sticking out, decorated in silly rumors and expensive clothes that separate you far from your roots.

“Hey,” Jungkook touches your arm, pointing to a basketball carnival game, “remember this one?”

“Yeah,” forcing a smile, you follow him to the small crowd that starts to form around the basketball game. The baskets are a short distance from the player, but so high up that it’s hard to tell the shape of the hoop. “I tried to tell you that it was completely rigged. From an angle you can see it’s still oval-shaped.”

“And I told you it didn’t matter if the hoop was an octagon, I’d get you that prize,” he jerks a thumb to the prize booth, where a blue Piplup plush sits proudly with all the other starter Pokemon. “And I did.”

“It’s still in my room,” you reply proudly, even though Jungkook is acting almost immaturely smug. “I, I mean it’s still in my room in my parent’s house. It’s probably lonely because my parents have been on a cruise for almost two weeks.”

He raises a brow, eyes drifting to the booth. “Should I win another one to keep your bed in the city warm?”

“That sounded oddly sexual.”

“You know what I mean,” and Jungkook’s rolling up his sleeves, handing you the camera.

“Jungkook,” you whine when he pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket, as if he prepared for this moment, “Jungkook c’mon—I don’t need any stuffed animals. Ugh.”

You swear that the majority of your day is spent watching Jungkook blow cash on a low-quality stuffed animal with packaging pellets for the inside. Turns out carnival technology has also enhanced over the years, and it takes both your whining and the clerk’s whining to stop Jungkook from blowing his entire wallet to get one basket in. Eventually the staff relents and lets Jungkook take a Piplup keychain instead, glumly handing it over to you.

“I like this better,” you chirp, clipping the ring onto your car keys, “now I can bring Piplup everywhere.”

A small, barely there smile appears on Jungkook’s face.

The rest of the day melts away like that, and before you know it the sun is slipping into the horizon and you’re being dropped off at your apartment. Jungkook even insists to walk you to your door, because your prizes are heavy. (Yes, he went back for the oversized Piplup.)

It’s all too familiar, the way the walk upstairs is achingly slow, as if the moment is stretching itself down the hallway. How Jungkook looks so prideful holding the fruits of his labor, following you with a tug of your hand because the prize is too big for Jungkook to see straight.

At the same time it’s different. The way you wobble around the hallway because you’re a little tipsy from wine flights is noticeable, even cute. How easy it is to not feel nervous when you clutch at his hand. How you two look like a seasoned couple, coming home from an all-day date.

It ends at the front door, and you crack it open so you can slip your prizes through the crack.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you hold up the SD card that held all the precious memories of this week.

This is where you part ways. You’ll spend the rest of the night editing your presentation, while Jungkook promised to go to a bar with his friends. A little part of you hoped you’d be invited, but you knew that would be impractical considering you have work in the morning.

“Break a leg,” he says, leaning on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets, “you’ll do great. You’ve always been meant to do great things.”

The investment he lays on you is insurmountable, and you feel yourself flush with simultaneous excitement and anxiety. Unknowing how to calm your nerves, you give him a small “thank you” and put your hand on the knob to slip away.

“Wait—”

You blink, a deer in the headlights as Jungkook swoops down and kisses you.

You’ve received kisses—kisses reserved for a twenty-seven year old, before. Seokjin is an eager lover, and you felt it that fateful morning and even during your photoshoot when he tried to be sneaky and pull you away. Fleeting bites, kisses to the neck that are wet and hot.

Jungkook’s kiss does not feel like that. It feels like home. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, wrapping yourself in an old afghan and a hot cup of tea. The feeling of hot laundry, fresh front the dryer and smelling of floral softener. It tastes like ten years lost in a void, returning to your senses and lighting you up.

He holds you as if you’ll disappear right in front of him. Large hands cup your face, like a precious thing he never wants to let go. Your hands can do nothing but grapple after his, nails digging into his skin.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you send him a lovestruck smile, a puppy love face.

“Good bye, Bun,” he replies simply, jogging down the hallway.

Being twenty-seven starts to feel a little more like heaven.

Jennie used to annoy you in high school, but now she just down right scares you.

Her presentation is one straight out of a thriller, with red shadow lights and neon green splattered in the dark room. Her models are intense, her designs are beautiful but overwhelmingly chaotic, and the whole affair is rather grotesque. The headline Fashion Suicide glares at you in a morbid scarlet font.

Hoseok sends her a tight-lipped smile, and presses a button on his desk. “I need my antacids, Krystal,” Hoseok deadpans.

Nothing betrays Jennie’s wicked expression, in fact her smirk widens at Hoseok’s fear.

You on the other hand, are cool as a cucumber when you walk up to the front of the conference room. In fact, you barely have to say anything as the presentation presents itself. Jungkook took the liberty of making a video compilation for you, one that they could use in YouTube and Instagram promotions.

“This, is preserving our youth,” you declare proudly, letting the video play. The music that accompanies it is very coming-of-age, like a yearbook slideshow of all the pictures you took. Taehyung, Jimin and Seokjin hold their arms around each other in matching attire, looking like friends for life. There’s even some videos of you and Jungkook at the park, playfully arguing at each other. “I’m tired of seeing people who could care less about my life, who I can’t relate to.”

“This issue is for the unsung heroes—my best friend’s older sibling, the captain of the football team, and the black sheep with a dream.”

The video cuts to Jungkook, looking ultra cool at the camera while he’s dictating Seokjin’s moves. It was taken on your phone, and you’re zooming in on Jungkook’s serious face before it breaks into a laugh, eyes crinkling and bunny teeth showing at whatever stupid thing Seokjin said.

And finally, the video fades into a mock cover. The five of you are beaming at the camera, cheek-to-cheek as you hold up the placard: Ego: Class of Youth.

Needless to say, the issue is yours.

You ignore Jennie’s icy stare as you leave the room to negotiate with the creative teams on a set schedule. However, it seems that you can’t get a bit of rest when Jennie waits for you in your office.

“Jennie, get off of my desk,” you frown, watching a coffin-tipped nail flicking against a photograph of you holding hands with Jungkook in the amusement park. It hangs on a corkboard, standing up with all the other ideas that you and Jungkook have spent the last week meticulously planning.The black enamel scratches at your smiling face. You are not having this, not after all your hard work and all the meetings that have just been planned.

Her feet dangle in the air, kicking back and forth as she sings your name. “You’re still such a child,” she sighs dramatically. “In fact, I think your cute little-wittle idea would suit something more like Highlights or Disney Monthly.”

“You’re just upset I did better than you,” you cross your arms.

Jennie’s nail slices your visage in half.

“You’re right,” Jennie turns a 180 and gives you a bright, candy-coated smile. “Your idea is so good, it doesn’t suit Ego. In fact, I’m sure the editors at Mono will pay a pretty penny.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ugh, you are such a fake.” Jennie giggles, “now, did you send this idea to Namjoon yet? Their publishing date is two weeks before ours, so I’m sure they’re getting to work on this whole Throwback Thursday spread.”

You can’t believe the words coming from Jennie’s mouth. Before all of this, just how awful of a person were you? How could you sabotage your company on the regular, just to get paid a little extra dough for a rival company? It makes you think about what could’ve possibly changed. Had leaving your friends without a care in the world made you into this lost adult, grappling at the seams for attention? In college, did Jennie coerce you into being manipulative and backstabbing, and because without Jimin and needing confidence in a friend, you reluctantly agreed?

The coffee from this morning starts to back up in your throat, but you immediately tamp it down. No, you can’t be pushed around like this. You can’t keep pushing people around. You don’t want a life like this, and if you ever return to your old life, you’ll damn make sure you’ll create a future without Jennie in the picture.

“I’m not going to send anything to Mono, and I’ve already fessed up to Hoseok,” you lift your nose in the air, voice impeccably clear for someone who’s absolutely bluffing. But Jennie’s face hits the ground, immediately buying your lie. You suppose you did become a good actress after ten years. Maybe Seokjin taught you a few pointers. “So if I were you, I’d swallow your tongue before words get around. I worked it out but don’t be surprised if a pink slip comes your way.”

Turns out that no matter what, high school never ends. There will always be backstabbers and freaks and geeks. A mean girl that you subconsciously try so hard to appease, a grade that defines your life, and drama up to the neck.

“He doesn’t like you, y’know,” Jennie whispers, but the words are loud and clear and you know exactly who she’s talking about. “Never had, and never will.”

“You’re wrong,” you hold your hands, clasping them together to keep them from trembling, “he likes me.”

So you leave the office, determined to prove yourself. That kiss last night was nothing short of magical, and it took a lot of strength for you to not drive up to Jungkook’s apartment in the morning in the hopes for another one. You pick up a pizza near his place, filling it up with your favorite toppings on one half and his favorites on his. A bottle of peach champagne is nestled between your arms. In the bathroom while waiting for your pizza, you’ve wriggled out of your tight suit and into a blue hoodie and bicycle shorts. Tonight, you’re celebrating.

You’re vibrating as you’re knocking eagerly on his front door, excited to tell him the news. You hear a rustle from the couch, and some blankets shifting about. He must’ve passed out after going to the bar, how cute.

But when the door opens, the vision in front of you is far from cute.

A woman, with cat eyes and a slim figure, tilts her head at you. She’s dressed in a large white shirt, transparent enough to show her lacy black bra and panties. Bruises decorate her neck and thighs, like red and purple gems. Her long black hair swishes, slightly frizzy at the bottom.

“Can I help you?” her voice is sultry and velvety. “Are you looking for JK?”

It’s obvious as to what transpired. Jungkook dipped after kissing you and fucked another woman. A woman who’s the complete opposite of you. Someone flirty and sexy and willing to give Jungkook what he wants. You don’t know who you should be mad at.

“Who’s at the door?” Jungkook calls from the inside, and you nearly drop your bottle at the sound of the rasp. They must’ve had a fuckfest if they’re just waking up now.

Your cheeks are burning. Your heart is aching. And the vile that bubbled up from Jennie’s tirade is now resurfacing. From the way your eyes are watering, you must look like a crybaby.

“Say, JK,” the woman closes the frame tighter around her small head, preventing you from seeing inside and for Jungkook to peer, “do you have any pathetic ex-girlfriends?”

“No,” comes the muffled reply, “come back to bed, it’s getting cold without you,” the pizza starts to burn uncomfortably against your grip, “why the random question?”

“Dunno, seems like you’ve had at least one.”

At that moment, your savior appears in grey jeans and a beige hoodie. Jimin walks up to the floor, clutching a bag of groceries. It’s not hard to put two and two together as he spots you looking incredibly small in front of the strange woman, trying so hard not to break down.

Your tears finally fall when Jimin reaches you. “Wrong room,” you mutter under your breath, quickly following your old best friend when he shoves you in his apartment.

No words need to be explained when Jimin leaves the groceries on the coffee table and he’s pulling you onto his lap. You clutch him like a koala, rubbing mascara and blush all over his clothes as you sob. He pats your back and soothes your hiccups by offering you a glass of water. The stages of your meltdowns are pretty cut and dry, even after ten years. He still encourages you to finish the whole glass. He makes sure you have something to eat. He cuts your pizza into little bite sized pieces and feeds you. He doesn’t pressure you to talk until you’re ready, although he has a hunch as to what’s going on.

And when you talk, he doesn’t expect a firm, “Take me home,” from you.

“O-okay,” Jimin agrees immediately, pulling you into a sitting position. “Uptown, right? We can call an Uber or something and order from a restaurant.”

“No,” you reply firmly, “Home-home. I want to go back to my parent’s house.”

“That’s fine too,” he squeezes your shoulder, accepting the fob you hold out to him, “it’ll take about an hour, but I think the drive will be nice.”

So you two sneak off into the sunset, clutching twin slices of pizza as you roll away into your Tesla. Jimin is right, ten minutes into the drive and you’re soothed by his smooth driving and the scent of fried cheese and dough. Your friend has been calm all this time, so you figure this is the right time for him to pop off. Again, this is also part of your breakdown routine.

“Say, does this thing do calls?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the settings on your steering wheel, “Tesla, call Jeon Jungkook.”

“Jimin,” you say weakly, although the little malicious side of you wants to goad him on. You don’t bother to fight the best friend territorialism, you just watch as his hands clutch at the steering wheel as the speakers ring.

Jungkook picks up on the second ring, “Hey!” he says brightly, and it makes your chest pang to know how oblivious he is, “how did the presentation go?”

“Fuck you, Jungkook!” you cover your free hand on your ear at Jimin’s shrill yell, louder than the speakers that carry Jungkook’s voice. “Fuck you for breaking my best friend’s heart twice!”

The silence is deafening. It’s scary, like you could slash a butter knife right through the tension.

Jimin continues, “I can understand high school because you were a real doofus, but this! You fucking lead my best friend on, only to fuck another girl right under her nose! She came all the way to your apartment from a long-ass day at work to celebrate and you ruin that day! I thought you’ve grown for the better but turns out nothing has changed since prom night. You’re still the stupid, confused little boy that doesn’t want to admit how they really feel,” you gasp at the blow, watching Jimin’s gritted teeth as he zooms down the freeway on a mission. “Good fucking riddance, Jeon!”

Jimin punches the “hang up” button. A couple seconds of heavy breathing, and he turns to you with a gentle smile.

“So, you want to listen to Taylor Swift’s new album?”

Your room is lost in time. The Hunger Games novels are stacked on your shelf, looking old and worn. A Glee poster hangs over your four-poster bed, the yellow and red faded and the corners hanging by a thread from the old tape. The sheets are a pale pink, ruffly and definitely not in style anymore. When you sit on it, it creaks uncomfortably.

You hug yourself, tucking your knees in as Jimin marvels at the room with an equal amount of awe.

“If you could, would you go back to high school?” Jimin asks, sitting at the edge of your bed.

With a lazy shrug, you smile at your collection of polaroids that are hanging above your vanity. You’re still hurt, but the pain is no longer rolling in waves. “Maybe,” you reply, “probably would’ve taken you to Europe with me.”

He chuckles, “Is that the only thing you would change?”

“If I knew what I knew now?” you tilt your head, “I don’t know.”

Jimin gets off your bed, pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I’m gonna raid the kitchen and see if we can make something for dinner, yeah? Since your parents are on vacation and your fridge is probably empty, don’t judge me if there’s only Totino’s pizza rolls and nuggets in the freezer.”

When Jimin leaves your room, you quietly close the door and lock it. You lean against the cracked wooden door, falling onto the carpet and letting the tears fall. Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? Evading pain and working too hard and trying everyday to stay afloat? Is adult life always going to be this difficult?

These past two weeks have been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Major highs and major lows, and after today you thought you reached the end of the ride. However, it’s looking like the ride has no destination in mind, rolling in waves and finding a new hill or loop to catch you off-guard.

“Are you kidding—how did you know we were here?” Another corkscrew.

“You’re a turtle on the road, Jimin. Now move out of the way.”

Jungkook’s voice startles you, and you tense when you see the gold door knob jiggle. Of course as strong as Jimin is, he’s no match for Jungkook. You hear Jimin grumble to curse Jungkook out, and the sound of him stomping down the stairs.

“Hey, open up. Please,” Jungkook’s voice is weak and strained, and you only hug yourself tighter as the knocks continue. “Or, don’t. It seems like you can listen to me perfectly from here. I can hear your breathing.”

You don’t say a peep, preferring to let everything fizzle out. Hopefully Jungkook will give up, say a pathetic sorry and be on his merry way. You don’t know why he’s followed you all the way over here, why would he bother coming when the damage is already done.

There’s a slide of fabric across wood, and you can feel the door shake against your back as Jungkook leans on his side out in the hallway.

“Back in high school, Jennie proposed that I date you to get back at you for stealing Jennie’s sewing sample and getting the higher grade,” you close your eyes, letting the story unravel. “She wanted to build you up before breaking you down, and back then I was vulnerable and thrived on attention, so I thought nothing of it.”

You hear a breathy exhale from his side, as if it pains him to continue, “But obviously, it wasn’t true and I only realized it until I was way too deep. I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you. We were so wrapped up in this relationship I even convinced myself it was real, until Jennie said she’d crush you at prom night.

“I should’ve tried harder to convince us not to go. I should’ve told Jennie to fuck off. I should’ve come clean. I should’ve done something,” his fist bangs against your door, the vibrations of the impact thrumming in your back, “seeing you so beautiful in that dress all heartbroken because I didn’t act sooner. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Hearing him pour his heart out is like watching your memories in his shoes. The pieces find homes and paint a picture left unfinished.

“And then when you showed up at my doorstep, I was so angry. I knew you felt it. But I wasn’t upset at you, I was upset at myself. I felt so fucking guilty. I hated how easy it was for you to let me back into your life. I hated how easy it was to fall for you all over again. I knew how much I didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you gave it to me and I was too selfish to refuse. I had so much fun, the most fun I’ve had in awhile.

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t intend for it to I just, I couldn’t help myself. And then I was so scared that I turned away and made the second biggest regret to date.

“But it proves that we’re not meant to be together. I don’t deserve you,” the last part is hushed, a nail in the coffin, “we can’t turn back the time, but if I could I would change it all. I would be by your side and make your world even better than it is right now. I’m sorry it’s too late.”

You clutch your mouth, suppressing the cries that muffle through the door. You hear Jungkook get up from your old carpet, turn the other way and head downstairs.

Your first love just closed the chapter for you. His words show how much he cared for you, but didn’t know how to express it. How immature he was, how he realized everything too late. And now, he wants to set you free. Even if it is a good thing, it still tears you to shreds.

Moving to your vanity, you pull out the chair and lean your head on the table, eyes poking through your hair. You look awful. The skin under your waterline is puffy and your eyes are red and bloodshot. Your forearms feel greasy, and you lift them up to reveal glitter painting the entirety of your skin. Your eyes dart to the open glitter, the package that Jimin gifted to you that fateful prom night. The compact is broken in half and left on the table, probably a product of your younger cousins fiddling through your old room.

Ignoring the sticky feeling, you let yourself continue to cry. You feel like you’re stuck in the bathroom of the prom venue, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out and go.

But you want nothing more than to go back to that moment. As amazing as your twenty-seven year old life is, you’re not ready for it. You don’t want a life without Jungkook, or a life having to constantly catch up and mend your relationship with Jimin. You don’t want to be the backstabbing bitch that tips off other magazines, or the two-faced woman who messes around with others for the sake of pleasure.

You long to go back. You long to live and grow. To be seventeen and have time to grow in-between.

When you lift your head from your vanity, you’re ten years younger.

You scream.

Your parents dash to your room with a kitchen knife and a confused face. With a wary smile and a teary gaze you say that it’s only a pimple. Your mother giggles and drops the knife, hugging you and helping you conceal the invisible mark. The hug is so warm and so missed that you nearly sigh in content. You’ve missed them.

It’s a little strange to think well beyond your years, your brain still reeling from the trip you’ve just had. Your hands smooth over your body, the previous curves and maturity hidden away in your skin. That’s okay, you don’t mind waiting anymore. There’s much more important things at hand.

If Jungkook isn’t going to realize his mistakes until it’s too late, you have to speed up the process.

Stealing your parent’s keys and hopping in your Accord, you drive off to Jungkook’s. Hair and makeup not done, and still in your plain shirt and jeans. An hour from now, Jungkook will text you saying his car is down and he’ll meet you at the venue.

It’s still rush hour, so he doesn’t notice when you park a few houses down. He’s sitting on his front porch, looking out the road. There’s really nothing in front of him, he’s just staring aimlessly, probably nervous about what’s about to go down tonight. You suppress a sigh, engraving the vision to memory. He looks great in his fitted black suit and tie, a little silver pocket square on the breast to match your dress.

He gets up quickly when he sees you, as if caught in the act. Staring at your plain clothes he asks, “Bun, why aren’t you dressed? Prom’s soon—”

“Jungkook, I want to break up.”

You see it in his eyes. Vulnerability. No longer do you feel insecure, the future told you that Jungkook genuinely did care for you back then. Or in this case, right now. His usual cheery expression crumples at your feet, and his hands fall at his sides. It feels a little unfair, knowing that you have experience under your belt, and Jungkook’s experiencing these feelings for the first time, unprepared.

“What?” he wilts, “why?”

“I know about Jennie’s plan,” you say instantly, unfazed. You give him a tight-lipped smile when realization hits his face. “So I know this whole relationship is orchestrated. The sewing sample fiasco is wrong, obviously. But I’m not going to get mad at you, I know she played you as much as she played me,” you clasp the straps of your purse, stopping you from fidgeting, “we graduate in a few months anyway. We don’t have to see or talk about this ever again. You should go enjoy your prom night with your other friends.”

The present-day Jungkook is still young and confused. He’s at a loss, looking like he’s on sensory overload as he absorbs all the information. You see his eyes flicker to where your Accord is parked, your prom dress hanging on one of the arm pulls. You never even pulled it out of the bag.

“Here,” you pull his corsage from your purse, placing the white rose atop the porch. If you try to put it on him, you fear you may never leave. With a determined huff, you turn around in the direction of your car.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clutching the railing of his porch, “what about prom?”

“I have other plans,” you shrug over your shoulder, “have a good night.”

You don’t look back, although you feel Jungkook’s stare burning in your head. You take great care in going into drive and punching in a new destination in your clunky GPS. This time you have to do things one at a time, once you get your Tesla ten years from now, you’re sure this process will be much easier.

Jimin’s family comes out of the airport, looking impeccable as always. Ten years younger, with puffy cherub cheeks and bright eyes. To your surprise (but also all things considered, it’s Jimin), your best friend comes out in a three-piece suit. It’s burgundy, and suits his dark hair well. He places his luggage into your car, hugs his family good-bye and waits for them to depart in their cab.

“You are all dressed up, and for what,” you chuckle, driving out of the airport.

“Well, when you sent that voicemail that you’d be waiting for me, I changed in the bathroom,” Jimin quips, already fiddling with your radio to play some poppy overplayed music, “but why aren’t you dressed? I thought we were going to be fashionably late to prom. Spill.”

“Hm, let’s talk about it in the morning. I wanna enjoy my prom night,” and you reach over to ruffle Jimin’s soft black strands, “y’know, you’d look really sexy as a blond.”

He pulls down your mirror, positioning it over his face. Pursing his plush lips, he tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe when I’m older,” he grins at his reflection, “so if we’re not going to prom, let’s go get pizza.”

So the two of you get pizza. But not before you take your prom pictures. Your parents meet you at the park with their old digital camera, ready for your impromptu photoshoot. Jimin uses an old tarp to cover the car up while you change in the car, shimmying in your sparkly silver tulle dress. Your hair is held up and away from your face, looking clean enough to be presentable as you pose for the camera. The two of you pick yellow dandelions from the grass, matching flowers as last minute dates. Your parents coo and are happy for you, knowing that even if you don’t attend the actual dance, the pictures will last forever and you’ll smile at them for years.

Eventually you tell Jimin about Jungkook and the whole fiasco (sans the ten year mental time jump.) The reaction is expected, Jimin says he wants to fuck Jungkook up. Surprisingly for him, he doesn’t have to do much to console you. In fact, you sip coolly from your smoothie and say Jungkook will probably let Jimin get a punch in even though Jungkook can bench press his tiny body in half. But you tell him you’re okay, and all you want to do is go home and binge watch.

Jimin carries the pie in his lap while you pull up your driveway. The smell of toasty cheese and fresh dough fill your car.

“I want to watch Sky City,” Jimin sing-songs, “Kim Seokjin is God’s gift!”

You crinkle your nose, “He’s alright.”

“What! You thought he was so hot like, last week.”

“Things change.”

Jimin makes it to your room first, saying he’ll take care of setting things up. He’ll probably steal all the available cushions and make a fort for himself while he puts a picnic blanket on the floor in front of your television. You can imagine him hogging all your stuffed animals, placing it on his side of the carpet while he rifles through your drawers so he can change out of his suit.

Your parents tell you to take out the trash before you have fun tonight. Careful not to get your dress dirty, you hold it away from your body as you waddle out the front door. You make it two steps into the driveway before the soggy trash bag is whisked from your hands.

“I got it,” Jungkook says quietly, and it takes little to no effort for him to haul the large bag into the waiting trash can. His shoulders are slumped under his white button-up, his suit jacket probably stuffed somewhere in the back of the car.

“Jungkook,” you reply, dumbfounded, “it’s only eight, prom isn’t even over yet.”

“I know… but then I realized you weren’t gonna get your money’s worth if you didn’t go. I asked the waitress if she could get me a doggie bag for my date and,” he holds up a stapled bag, presumably the dinner that was supposed to be served, “it’s your favorite.”

“Thank you,” you give him a small, grateful smile as you accept the bag. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

He bites his lip, stuffing his hands in his dress pockets. “A-and you told me before you left that I should go spend prom night with my friends,” he ruffles his hair, blown out of the pomade and falling into his eyes, “and then I realized that you were right. Jennie and all those people out there aren’t really my friends. They like my rep and they like my attention, but they don’t like me.”

You shake your head, “Jungkook, you’re very likable. Jennie and her group are just one bad bunch.”

“But I don’t wanna be liked by my rep. I wanna be liked for the things I love,” he steps a hesitant step towards you, and he relaxes when he sees that you don’t recoil, “I haven’t told anyone this. But I want to drop that sports scholarship. I applied to an art school, and I got in.”

Suppressing a grin with a bite of your lips, you cheer silently in your head. Things are changing. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkook. Congrats.”

“And I’m sorry for all the fucked up things I did. Jennie may have manipulated me but I definitely was a big part of it,” Jungkook pulls the words out of the sky, finally having enough time to formulate an apology, “but please don’t doubt for a second that my feelings are fake. I really like you, and I wish we got to know each other under better circumstances.”

“I wish we could’ve,” you echo sadly. “But our futures—”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you.”

You shake your head, frowning at his kicked puppy expression. “I’m considering a fashion school in Europe,” you reach for Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it. Letting him know that everything’s going to be okay. “You and Jimin can visit me during the breaks, Europe has some great spots to photograph.”

Something in Jungkook’s gaze tells you that it’s not enough for him. He wants to be selfish and hold onto you tighter, but you know that’s not good for the both of you right now. “That’d be nice,” he says vaguely, giving you a pained smile.

Jungkook rubs his thumb over your hand, relishing in the softness of your skin. “You look really pretty,” he says, looking forlornly over the dress. He can only imagine how ethereal you’d look under the fairy lights that decorated the venue, “I wish we could’ve had one dance.”

You shrug, “The night’s still young,” you gesture to the space in the driveway, and the lights that overhead the garage.

The slow Taylor Swift music that plays from his pocket is muffled, but it doesn’t deter either of you as he places his hands on your waist and you wrap his around his neck. You’re wearing your bunny house slippers and Jungkook’s neck is moist from his nervous sweats, but you know that this memory will be engraved in your brain for years to come.

It feels good to know that from now on, you don’t have to be so concerned about the future now that you’ve had a taste of it. All you want now is to take it one day at a time. At this moment the, the only thing you want to do is focus on how you’re going to hold onto Jungkook for the last time. At least for now, who knows what will happen in the future.

“I really want to kiss you, Bun,” he leans in, foreheads touching, “but I don’t deserve it.”

“You’re right,” you tease, “you don’t.”

He frowns playfully, “Ouch. But fair.”

Yet you figure you’ve made enough headway these past few weeks, and you deserve to be a little selfish. One last kiss, you think to yourself. Your fingers flatten against the pressed material of his collar, meeting in the middle to clutch Jungkook’s slim black tie. Jungkook bites his lip, looking down at you for permission. With the tiniest of nods, you get on your tippy toe toes you lean forward and you can smell the apple cider lingering on his lips—

“Ohmygod—are you broken up or not!” both of you whip your heads up to see Jimin hanging over your open window, looking absolutely bored. His arms dangle over your sill, wearing a frayed high school jumper. “Either tell him to get lost or invite him over to watch television because I’m hungry!”

You pull away from him fully, squeezing his biceps. “Want pizza?”

He shakes his head, “I think it’s a trap. Jimin’s waiting for me to come up so he can rip my head off,” he gives a tentative wave to the second floor, but Jimin just scoffs and goes back inside, “but I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay. Good night, Kook.”

“Good night, Bun.”

Your heart pinches a little as you watch him drive away. Before, you knew what the end game was between you two. It didn’t end pretty. Now, you’re not so sure. At the very least, it isn’t ending on a sour note.

Some time later.

“Your majesty,” you give her a practiced smile, taking careful measures not to brush the lady’s shoulders too hard in the fear she’ll whittle away, “emerald is an impeccable color on you.”

The Queen of England (the McDuckin' Queen of England!) just laughs at you and waves you off. You can’t believe you’re photographing a real queen. This is like the childhood equivalent of meeting Malibu Barbie. You thank every single choice and mistake you’ve made in your entire life that has brought you up to this impeccable moment. She’s a vision, you could cry. In fact, you’ll cry later in the comfort of your hotel room. “Do you think the photographer will take long?” she asks, frowning, “I have drinks with my friends in an hour.”

You smirk, pleased to know she’s still kicking it in her golden years. “Yeah, just so long as my husband doesn’t get distracted. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

“I’m not distracted,” Jungkook huffs, pulling away from his tripod. He gives up on trying to stabilize the camera, instead preferring to go freehand for this one. He gives you an incredulous look, hands on his hips, “I have two queens in my viewfinder and I only got room for one. Get out of the shot, Bun.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you step away from the lady of the hour to let Jungkook do his thing. He’s right in his element, blurting choreographed poses and telling the lighting people to move at his beck and call to get the perfect angle. You stand a distance behind him, letting him take control.

“I’m so hungry,” your whisper is low enough to blend between the jazz music, but loud enough for Jungkook’s ears to listen in, “please tell me you’re almost done.”

“Oui, oui.”

“Wrong language, Kook. Please don’t offend anyone,” and discreetly, you take one step closer in your Tory Burch flats, “did you get any candids of me and the Queen?”

“Duh, Bun,” you can’t see his face but you know he’s grinning, “Jimin will faint.”

"Oh, yes! Thank you, I love you," you gush, reaching over to discreetly pinch his butt.

He shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to give you a brief smirk, "Show me how thankful you are tonight."

So silly, you think. It's amazing how well you work together as two separate entities of a photoshoot yet share a brain cell in the presence of each other. In another world, Jungkook said if given the chance, he'd be by your side and make your world a better place.

Ten years later, it's exactly that and more.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst

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thedaredevilsgirl · 3 years

Note

can you do tom holland x actress!reader, they are ready to get dressed for the Oscar. They are nominated all the categories. The journalist tell them about how everything doing. After that, hopefully they will win Oscar. Luckily Tom had a surprise for y/n in front of stage

Thank you for your request, it was wonderful to write it.

Love and Awards

Tom Holland X Actress!Reader

809 words.

You admire in the mirror how well the long blue dress fit your body, Tom hugs you from behind and you smile at the reflection of the two of them.

"You look beautiful" He says before leaving a light kiss on your neck.

"You too Thomas, this suit definitely looks good on you." She says turning around so she can finally see him "I'm nervous".

It was Oscar night, Tom was running for his great performance in Cherry and you were running for the first time as well, so nervousness was taking over your body. You honestly didn't care if you won or not, just being in the running was a great accomplishment, you had worked hard to get where you were and to have your work recognized in this way was wonderful.

"Can I be honest?" Tom asks and you nod your head in confirmation "No need to be nervous, you were wonderful in the movie, it's no wonder you're in the running, and it doesn't matter if you win or lose, I'm very proud for you."

"Please don't make me cry, the makeup artists took too long to finish this makeup" They both laugh and he kisses her.

"We better get down now, the limo is waiting for us."

"Sure"

You finally leave your house and head towards the special limo for tonight, you hold Tom's hand before you can get in the car, he looks at you a little confused.

"I just wanted to say that I'm very proud of you too, I love you" it was the first time you said you loved him, you didn't expect him to say the same but you needed to reveal soon how you felt.

He gives another one of those beautiful smiles that made you melt.

•─────✧─────•

When they arrive at the place where the award ceremony would take place, you feel more nervous, but Tom just holds your hand and leaves you a kiss to calm you down.

You walk down the red carpet while being photographed until you stop for a moment for the interviews. Several questions about your dress and your appearance, honestly it was a little tiring, you didn't want to answer those kinds of questions, you wanted to talk about your career, but you kept the smile on your face and answered all the questions.

"Y/N this outfit is wonderful, what brand did you choose to wear it at this Oscars?" Another interview, but the same question.

"Why not ask about your work or the movie?" Tom tells the interviewer when he notices her slight discomfort "Y/N is so talented, you shouldn't waste a whole interview just talking about what she is wearing."

You feel your heart inflate more with love when he says this to the interviewer, the interview changes course and you finally answer more interesting questions.

Soon you are entering the theater and going to your seats side by side.

•─────✧─────•

The whole ceremony seems to happen so quickly, it's like the blink of an eye, and before long the category in which you were competing is about to be announced. You hold Tom's hand tightly and wait for them to announce the winner.

When your name is called, you think it's a lie, but it's not, tears fall down your face and you kiss Tom before standing up to receive your award.

You go on stage and are handed your statuette, "Wow, that's heavier than it looks." The people in the audience laugh at your joke, you make your whole speech thanking all the people who participated in the film with you, thanking your family and Tom for supporting you in this project as always.

Some time later you return to your seat, he smiles proudly in your direction and says that he knew you would win, you just laugh at his confidence.

Thomas' category was next to be announced, and deep down you were as confident as he was, he was definitely going to win.

"And the Oscar goes to..." The hostess starts "Tom Holland" He kisses you with all the happiness he could do that and goes to receive his award.

"I never thought I'd be here today" he begins his speech "But I'm glad I am, first I want to thank my family, because they never let me give up on my dream. To my fans, I only got this far because of them, they are the real reason I'm on this stage today. And lastly, to the love of my life, Y/N, God, how I love this girl, thank you for existing, you make me a better man and I am so grateful that you chose me, I love you."

The tears fall non-stop from your eyes, you were so proud and to hear that way that he loved you too was beautiful. You knew, you had chosen the right man to love, having him in your life was the greatest prize you could receive.

#tom holland imagine #harrison osterfeild smut #sam holland x reader #tom holland smut #harry holland smut #sam holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader

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legoshi-plz · 4 years

Note

How about birthday prompts (Like how they celebrate your birthday and how you celebrate theirs)?

Warning: NSFW-ish themes (Riz and Bill’s part),

All Characters are adults, around mid-20s here. So basically a couple years after college. Except for Gouhin, Oguma, and Gosha who are their canon ages.

Reader is Gender Neutral

Louis:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. MoneyBags here is going to go all out as far as expenses go.

- Fancy Dinner at an elegant restaurant, picks you up in his ridiculous sports car which you’ve rode in a million times but it’s still exciting. (Also, Louis drives extremely fast. He’s a good driver but if he’s not going at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he feels like he might as well be parked in the street. Also has a bad habit of running red lights and stop signs just because he can.)

- Buys you a brand new outfit just to wear to dinner and has it delivered to you in the morning in a red velvet box with a silk bow. You’re a little uncomfortable with the whole high society scene but you go along with it anyway for Louis’ sake.

- At dinner, he orders for you. He has a bad habit of doing that, even though you’ve told him multiple times you’re capable of making your own decisions. At least he usually orders you something you end up liking.

- Night concludes back at his place, he pulls out another velvet box similar to one from this morning except this box is much smaller which only meant one thing: jewelry.

- “Louis... Are there diamonds in this?”

- “....”

-“Louis...”

-“.... Maybe...”

- You refuse to accept the overly expensive gift, refuse to even look at it. You give it back to him and you could see he’s a little hurt but you assure him you know he means well but everything was just a little too much and you felt out of place.

- He accepts your criticism gracefully even if he is a little frustrated you wouldn’t accept his gift he spent so much time picking out. He promises to tone it down next year.

His Birthday:

- You actually really hate Louis’ birthday because he almost never spends it with you.

- He always works on his birthday, not seeing it as important enough to halt business.

- You’ve tried everything from bribing his assistant to haggling his bodyguards but nobody can get Louis out of his office in his birthday.

- You’ve learned to let it go, and usually surprise him by doing something special the week before.

Legoshi:

Your Birthday:

- All about being sweet. Values time and effort over anything and hopes that you see it that way too.

- Makes you breakfast in bed, he’s a pretty good cook all things considering (it’s a skill he picked up while being a waiter.)

- Takes you out for lunch, the two of you spend the day doing pretty regular couple stuff but you’re just happy to be there with him.

- Your present is something that’s both useful and to your taste, like along the lines of a sweater or cardigan in your favorite color. He makes sure it’s oversized because he knows how much you love to wear his sweaters and he even has your name embroidered in small cursive letters above the heart.

- You love your gift and how the two of you spent the day.

His Birthday:

- You two spend it almost identically, just with he roles reversed.

-Legoshi is still a little uncomfortable with extra attention so if you want to incorporate his friends into anything then you’ll have to be really stealthy about it.

- No surprise parties please, he literally would melt into the floor with embarrassment. Best to take him somewhere and his friends slowly join in organically (or at least, you hoped it came off as organic but it really didn’t)

- “Hey Legoshi, fancy seeing you two here at this restaurant in this reserved section. Mind if I join ya?” By the tenth time that exact excuse was used, the cat was well out of the bag.

- Legoshi appreciates your efforts though, even if he’s not one for attention. He sort of clings to you the entire night, whether it be holding your hand, gripping your thigh, encircling your waist, etc. as long as he’s touching you, he feels calmer and it helps tone down his anxiety.

- Overall, Legoshi’s the type to be fine with almost any birthday celebration (or even none at all) as long as he can be with you.

Juno:

Your Birthday:

- Makes you do something spontaneous for once, even if you’re hesitant.

- Takes you somewhere like Skydiving, or Paragliding, or Bungee Jumping. If you’re adamant about making it to your next birthday not risking your life then she will settle for something a little more mild like Scuba Diving.

- Can not stop gushing about how hot you look in your wetsuit and flusters you in front of the Scuba instructor (he’s an older Walrus and finds it cute to see young animals in love).

- The two of you end up having a blast and you’re happy you went along with Juno’s plan, even if it tired you out completely.

- Once the two of you get home and shower, you collapse onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately, the exhaustion from the deep diving really taking it’s toll.

- Juno enters the bedroom holding a cake with lit candles and wearing brand new sexy lingerie she purchased just for you to rip off of her. She’s a little disappointed to find you unconscious but she figures it is your birthday and you can sleep if you want to.

- She blows out the candles for you and puts the cake in the kitchen, then she throws on a robe and snuggles up next your slumbering figure.

Her Birthday:

- She wants to travel for her birthday and she can’t think of anyone she’d rather take a trip with more than you.

- You two go somewhere hot and tropical, probably somewhere near a beach (she loves any excuse to wear a bikini and sunbathe)

- You two probably find a bar near the beach and get drunk, her moreso then you because you start to sober up as the night goes on so you’re able to take care of her.

- You take her back to the hotel and tuck her in after helping her get ready for bed. She a giggling, flirty drunk mess the entire time but it still makes your heart soar because you know she had fun.

- Before she falls asleep, she whispers to you that this was her favorite birthday yet.

Riz:

Your Birthday:

- He’s waking you up with morning head, no way around it. You wake up to him kissing your neck, then your collarbone, down your stomach and he just keeps going down until he has you whimpering and falling apart beneath him.

- Then the two of you take a shower together and he’s making you cum for him in a totally different way.

- But once you finally pry his humongous paws off of you, you think you’ll be able to relax but he has other plans.

- He sends you off to the Spa. He’s not going in with you because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one but buys you the best top of the line experience . You enjoy the peace and relaxation but you’re kind of lonely and just want to be with him.

- When you get home, he presents your gift to you which is probably something big and wooden that he made himself because he’s great with his hands and actually an amazing craftsman. Probably something like a intricate Wooden Gazebo outside so you could sit and enjoy your garden.

- “Riz, how the hell did you get this back here without me knowing?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around his neck from where you squealed in excitement, lavishing him with kisses.

- “Built it off site, just needed a few hours to install it,” Riz winked, cupping your ass with both hands and lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist.

- “So that’s why you made me spend my birthday alone?” You pouted.

- “Yeah, m’sorry about that, baby. But I can make it up to you...” Riz growled, carrying you inside to the bedroom.

“Wait, I wasn’t done looking at my gift,” you giggled as he began nipping at the fur at the base of your neck.

“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere,”

His Birthday:

- Riz loves nature and outside in general. So for his birthday you plan a camping trip deep in the forest.

- You don’t tell him anything about it, you just make him request two days off of work, no questions asked.

- You two leave early in the morning, drive deep into the forest and then you spring it on him. You also let him know that if he doesn’t like the idea, theres still time to turn back and spend his birthday in the city.

- Not a chance if that happening though, this man LOVES the outdoors. He’s already halfway out the car before you could even put it in park.

- The two of you have a blast setting up the tent, making the campfire, cooking dinner over said campfire, and communing with nature.

- “There’s a river that runs north of here, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here, I figured we could go fishing there tomorrow morning,” You tell him as you sit in his lap, admiring the fire.

- However, the two of you don’t make it there until we’ll into the afternoon and it was a miracle you made it there at all. Riz had fucked you senseless last night, the atmosphere of nature giving him a newfound surge of energy. It’s a good thing no one was around because the two of you were almost embarrassingly loud.

- Anyways, Riz thoroughly enjoys his weekend of wilderness and fucking you like a wild animal all throughout the forest. You enjoy it as well despite the fact he has you almost limping by the end of the trip.

Bill:

Your Birthday:

- Honestly, he forgets. If you wait on him to remember or ‘surprise you’, then you’ll only end up ruining your own birthday.

- If you remind him on the day of, he takes you out to eat at a nice restaurant but it’s still very last minute.

- If you remind him the day before, he’ll at least get you a gift but it’s last minute.

- Overall, if you want to actually enjoy your birthday with him, you better plan it yourself

His Birthday:

- Plans an entire house party himself and invites everyone, it seems, but you. He wasn’t exactly aiming to exclude you, he just thought it’d be a given that you would be there. However, if you didn’t show up, he wouldn’t really notice either way.

- It’s wild and crazy. A ridiculously huge amount of people show up and there’s alcohol coming from every direction, and Bill is soaking up every ounce of the attention.

- Once you finally had enough of being ignored, you go home. You doubt that Bill will even notice you’ve left.

- You’re at home, showered, and about to head to bed when your phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number so you let it ring out. But then they call back again, and again, and again. Disturbed, you accept it on the fourth call just in case it’s an emergency.

- “Finally they picked up! Y/N? You there?” It was one of Bill’s friends. Apparently in his drunken state, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you and had been crying for you to come back for almost an hour. He was inconsolable and his friends knew there was only a matter of time before he started a fight at his own party. You were irritated but you still allowed them to drop him off at your place.

- The second you answered your front door, the giant tiger in question was all over you, squeezing you right and asking why you left him. You helped him inside and laid him in your bed.

- He cuddled with you for maybe 10 minutes tops before he was out like a light. You end up falling asleep next to him, finally enjoying a little peace for once tonight.

- That peace doesn’t last long though, Bill wakes up the next morning horny. Like extremely horny. You wake up to him grinding against your thighs, whimpering and begging to let him fuck you. You give in to the belated birthday boy and he proceeds to give you the sloppiest, most sensual, earth-shattering morning strokes of your life. You’re so mind blown by how good he fucked you, you forget about how angry you were with him.

- After a well needed shower, he takes you out for breakfast to apologize for how much of an ass he was on his birthday. You accept but tell him if he ever pulls something like that again, he can look for a new lover.

Collot:

Your Birthday:

- Surprisingly wants to spoil you on your birthday but unlike Riz, he actually minds being apart from you (he’s hella clingy, he just hates to admit it) so whatever activities he has planned, the two of you are doing it together.

- Takes you to a fancy resort, somewhere in the mountains where it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground even during the summer months.

- The two of you attempt skiing but you’re terrible at it and he ends up laughing at you falling majority of it.

- You two also enjoy the giant jacuzzi the lounge has to offer but Collot can not keep his hands off of you and eventually you two have to run back to your room for a midday quickie.

- His birthday gift to you is something simple, like a necklace with your birthstone in it. You love it and allow him to put it on you.

- The rest of the evening, it’s just you and your man, walking along the Snow filled grounds, sipping warm apple cider, and enjoying the break from the rest of the world.

Gouhin:

His Birthday:

- This man wants REST. No need to go all out, his life is crazy enough the other 365 days of the year. Just give him some peace and relaxation and he’s good to go.

- He also loves your cooking and wouldn’t be opposed to you cooking him a huge meal.

- Also loves your body and wouldn’t be opposed to you doing that thing that he really likes in bed ;)

- Your gift to him would be something he can use but also is a little unnecessary. Something like a ridiculously fancy, golden calligraphy pen for his office or a brand new crossbow with genuine leather straps. He’s pretty hard to shop for so it’s always best to go with something he already has, just a newer model.

- Honestly just wants to spend his birthday with his baby (you) as if it’s any other day.

Gosha:

Your Birthday:

- Gosha is so lovable, he’s probably more excited it’s your birthday than you are.

- He’s picked up quite a few skills over the years and baking is one of them. Bakes you a giant birthday cake in your favorite flavor. You’re grateful he was so thoughtful and made such an extravagant cake but there’s no way you’re going to finish this entire thing.

- You end up inviting over friends just to get rid of some of the cake, which they’re more than happy to do since it’s absolutely delicious.

- A few of your friends bring group dishes and fancy wine and soon it’s a whole party underway. The small gathering is actually a blast and you can’t think of a better way to spend your birthday other than surrounded by the people you love.

Oguma:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. Moneybags 2.0

- Gets you a crazy expensive gift like a brand new car and calls it a day.

- Not really much for spending time or celebrating traditionally. But to compensate, he’ll buy you the world (even after you’ve repeatedly told him you don’t need all that.)

- Probably won’t even see you on your birthday because his schedule is so overbooked but sends you plenty of gifts to remind you that he loves you.

- It stings not seeing him on your birthday but at this point in the relationship, you don’t really expect anything else from him.

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice!

Word Count: 11.9 k

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol)

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.”

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.”

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.”

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.”

“Great.”

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily.

College was not supposed to be like this.

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all.

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack.

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.”

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks.

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!”

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.”

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.”

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.”

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake.

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor.

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide.

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.”

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?”

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.”

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.”

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.”

“Ah, I do understand then.”

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row.

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in.

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store.

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!”

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled.

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button.

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.”

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around.

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat.

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!”

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!”

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery.

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?”

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.”

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl.

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head.

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin.

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles.

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention.

It was a trick that never failed.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern.

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks.

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal.

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her.

I hated being a man sometimes.

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink.

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.”

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding.

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.”

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.”

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter.

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her.

I was so totally fucked.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?”

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders.

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here.

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine.

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room.

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs.

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.��

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.”

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me.

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan.

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?”

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes.

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.”

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.”

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent.

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t.

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes.

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water.

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets.

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little.

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.”

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile.

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes.

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed.

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window.

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?”

“Yes, please.” I nodded.

I could take my makeup off in my sleep.

I’d done it before, actually.

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together.

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-”

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin.

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone.

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine.

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed.

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me.

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-”

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.”

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.”

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.”

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop.

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head.

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.”

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.”

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?”

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better.

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered.

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling.

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.”

Fuck being friends.

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

I was truly fucked.

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it.

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head.

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him.

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders.

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped.

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin.

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine.

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field.

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms.

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!”

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips.

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!”

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me.

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely.

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.”

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?”

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment.

I hated when he did stuff like that.

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply.

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?”

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off.

I hated what I was doing to Piper.

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear.

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real.

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid.

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat.

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker.

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves.

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips.

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled.

☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth.

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked.

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat.

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it.

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table.

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El.

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face.

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.”

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?”

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.”

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house.

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all.

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either.

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked.

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head.

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me.

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would. I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect.

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers.

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek.

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles.

“Snow.” I said softly.

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh.

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.”

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now.

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves.

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod.

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch.

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep.

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background.

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.”

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through.

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head.

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.”

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core.

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants.

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.”

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly.

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance.

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.”

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit.

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner.

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles.

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down.

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?”

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding.

“I want that.” I whispered.

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up.

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt.

This was all I ever needed.

#kaylee i hope you like this #stellarboystyles3years #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles frat au #harry styles frat boy #harry smut #harry writing #harry fluff #fray boy au #best friend #friends to lovers #bff!harry #fratboy!harry

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Hope in the sheets.7

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 4.4k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: mentions a sex tape, mentions a birth tape

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” This videotape felt dirty, Hoseok wasn’t sure why, but he was sweaty, his heart raced, as he tried to look anywhere but at the screen. The woman on the video kept making noises and heaven forbid he look between her legs. Was it warm in here or was it just him?

“As you can see the birth canal opens up wide to let the babies head come down and out and the shoulder here is the widest part, so you have to be careful to listen to your body otherwise you may tear, so here we go these are the final pushes and then the baby will slip out—”

“Hoseok, Hoseok wake up!” You called alarmed, Hoseok opened his eyes to see you and the birth class instructor standing over him.

“Don’t worry love, there is always one in every class who faints” The woman handed over some ice, “Put this behind his neck it will help slow his heart rate, nerves sometimes get the better of the soon to be dads”

Sitting up Hoseok sat up a little embarrassed, “sorry, I didn’t mean to faint”

“No, Hobi, it’s okay I feel nauseous as hell after that video too. That looks scary as hell I don’t think I can do it” you whined. “This class traumatized me more than it helped, and what do we get a couple of cookies and some watered down juice.

“You are so strong and I think you can do it?” Hoseok tried to reassure you and you scoffed.

“If you're so confident you push the baby out.” Hoseok paled again swaying on the spot and you laid him back down. “You are properly scared aren’t you?”

“I am horrified,” he laughed, “I am a big chicken”

“Honestly, I am scared too but I don’t get a choice Hobi, this baby is inside me and it has to get out somehow." you shiver after confessing the fear that had been building in the back of your mind. “If I wasn’t afraid of surgery I would install the old side door”

The gesture of a flat hand across your stomach made Hoseok smile sadly. He took your hands in his.

“I’m sorry that you have been dreading this. I will try to be someone who can eliminate your fears, little darling momma” he kissed your head. The instructor called everyone back to the mats and began explaining how to wash a baby and how to hold a baby for the first time.

It was a fun class but you were happy to get home and rest, biding Hoseok good night. He went quickly to his house where Jimin was sitting waiting for him with a hanging clothes bag.

“What were you so busy doing that I had to pick up your dry cleaning?”

“Y/n’s birthing class” Hoseok's face turned grave as he adopted a serious tone. “Jimin, don’t ever go to a birthing class. I don’t think I can unsee what I saw.”

“Haha, I’m not that silly, I know where babies come from. I am glad I am a man who likes men, so I will never step foot in a birthing class unless you pay me a large fortune. I mean I could watch someone give birth for money."

Hoseok shivered, making Jimin laugh at his expense. “You look pale, so let's change the subject. I bought Yoongi's old van. He sold it for some new equipment. That means I can get rid of the junk van I was driving before.”

“Can I have your old van?” Hoseok jumped on the opportunity.

“Uh sure, but I think it’s more money than it’s worth, you can have it for free because it needs new everything.” He shrugged “I was just going to make it scrapped metal”

“Yeah I can fix it up, I got some money lying around.” Hoseok yawned, “anyway thank you so much for getting my suit. I have my first day of work tomorrow, so I should go to bed early”

“Alright, but tomorrow night celebratory drinks for your first day?” Jimin clutched his shoulder.

“Of course,” Hoseok laughed, waving goodbye and carrying the suit to his apartment.

“Hey man, how was your day?” Jimin shouted from his newly acquired van from Yoongi. “Get in, we can celebrate tonight”

Jimin drove Hoseok home under strict orders to grab a nice change of clothes so the two could get ready at his house and go out celebrating Hoseok’s new job. Hoseok took the stairs two at a time leading to his apartment, his hand brushing past your old door. He missed you. He missed having you at his work, at his home, at his leisure. You two were inseparable and yet torn apart by the stages of life.

Hoseok had assumed you both would be single and somewhere in your mid-thirties you would just get married to one another for convenience. He grabbed some clothes and found the blacklight outfit you had bought for him, he pushed it aside trying to move on for just a moment.

Instead, he grabbed a classic black button-up and a pair of black dress pants. He placed the items in a bag and headed back down to Jimin waiting excitedly in the driver's seat. He drove them across town singing along to the radio and pulled into the driveway of a beautiful home. Jimin was a sugar baby and so he accumulated a lot of money with ease.

Jimin picked up the package by his doorstep curiously and read the name, his face broke out into a smile. Opening the box he found a beautiful pair of earrings. Hoseok paused, knowing Jimin had been talking about these types of earrings for a long time, but these ones looked handmade and a little cheap, not from a brand-name store like most of Jimin’s other clients would buy.

“They are so cute,” Jimin smiled, lifting the note, reading it aloud. “I don’t have money, so I don’t ask for much, it would just be a waste of your time. Even with this, I still want you to know that I think you are really sweet the way you always help others and never forget to share compliments to those who catch your eye. I will never forget how kind and funny, you are especially at work. The way you run your fingers through your hair unconsciously, how you pout when you think, the way you can glide across the dance floor with drinks without spilling anything. You disappear behind the bar with the cutest laugh and I am completely in love with you.”

“You have an admirer,” Hoseok looked over his shoulder at the letter before asking, “I wonder who it is?”

“I am not sure who it could be?” Jimin frowned, taking the box into a spare room filled with gifts. “They seem really nice”

Once the letter was placed carefully in the room, Jimin stepped out and decided to get dressed for the night. He paused in the doorway walking back and taking the earrings. “Even though they are cheap I think I should at least wear them.”

The two got changed and Jimin posed, “take a picture of me looking over my shoulder, so I can post a picture of the earrings on my Insta”

Hoseok picked up his phone and stepped behind Jimin, ready to take the picture of Jimin’s bare shoulder, earring, and side profile. He stopped when his phone came up with the stupid storage message.

Storage full!

You can free up space on this phone by managing your storage in settings.

“I can’t take a picture,” Hoseok sighed. “My phone storage is full”

“It’s okay, I should put on a bit of makeup to make the picture really pretty. While I do that, use my computer to plug it in and delete stuff. You can save the rest onto a USB, which you will find in the top draw. The USBs should be empty.

Hoseok watched Jimin stroll into the bathroom and thought he might as well take care of this storage issue on the phone. Plugging the device in, Hoseok began going through and deleting memes and stupid screenshots he no longer needed. He went through saving many photos of you, and videos the two of you shared together.

That's when he came across the picture of the two of you dressed in your black light outfits. Both of you looking happy together in the mirror. Hoseok saved the photo to the USB. The next was a blurry picture on the dance floor, he didn’t need that.

Deleting a range of blurred photos, Hoseok kept swiping through them until he came across a video of you and Hoseok walking home. He heard you giggling and unconsciously smiled. He honestly was so in love with you.

There were a few more blurred videos and then there was a video of you two laying in Hoseok’s bed. His heart started to race as he watched you lean down and kiss him in the video. Hoseok couldn’t remember any of this.

The next video was of you removing your dress but it continued, sometimes the phone was just left on the bed face down, at other points, it was lifted and Hoseok heard himself talking as he pointed the camera at you underneath him. “I love you.” He had filmed you while you two were having sex, “I love being inside of you too.”

Hoseok felt a little guilty, while you two were drunk he took a video of you both, not only that but he felt as if he took advantage of you. The next video was taken from behind and Hoseok felt ashamed of himself for the stirring in his pants.

“Are you watching porn?” Jimin laughed from the next room, confused as Hoseok switched to the next video. The two of you were cuddling on your side, Hoseok being the big spoon.

Hoseok's face fell. What had he just watched? His head was reeling with so many thoughts that he couldn’t process them fast enough. He understood that it was you in the video, and you were with him. It was that night. Were you his dream girl? “I slept with Y/n?” He blurted and like being hit with a truck he came to a shocking revelation. Hoseok shot to his feet and spoke out loud hoping it would help him make sense of the situation, “Am I, I think, I might be the father?”

“Oh, Finally!” Jimin shouted, his voice carrying into the office. “I have been waiting for you to figure it all out”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok said his stomach was feeling sick, he didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or cry. The betrayal setting in, “How did you know? DID SHE KNOW?”

Jimin stepped into the room, his lips pressed together in a thin line, with a look of pity on his face confirming Hoseok's suspicion. Hoseok got up, his eyes flashing around the room in a panic. He pushed past Jimin and grabbed the old set of keys from the countertop. Hoseok escaped and drove fast. He didn’t have a destination in mind but after a few minutes of driving he ended up at a park by Han River.

Shutting off the engine, Hoseok let his hands fall from the wheel, his head resting back against the seat, letting out a loud guttural shout. He let the tears fall freely as his sobs racked his body, every breath catching in his throat as if he was choking.

Hoseok wanted to scream, he wanted answers. They all knew. You knew. He thought he was your best friend, someone he trusted with all his secrets, and yet you kept something this big from him. The sick feeling in his stomach grew as did his anger and frustration with the situation.

How long were you going to keep this from him? When the baby was born? When the child was eighteen? Never? He had a right to know but all he wanted to know was why.

He left the vehicle, his phone ringing with your number but he turned it off. He walked to the nearest bar somewhere dark and quiet and he drank until he couldn’t see his hands.

“Hey mate you have to go, come on get up.” The bartender said, nudging him with an exaggerated sigh, “Mate can I call someone to come get you?”

“No one, my best friend is a liar, she is pregnant and didn’t even tell me it is my child,” Hoseok mumbled into the table. The bartender sighed again reaching into his pocket, “Who do you want me to call mate?”

“No need to call, I will go,” he said, pulling out his keys only to have them snatched from his hand. Hoseok turned to see Yoongi grabbing Hoseok’s things and thanking the bartender. “What do you want?”

“I got a distressed call from Y/n she is hysterical, I have checked in every bar and searched the nearby streets for Jimin’s old van. Yoongi threw the keys to Jimin who was waiting by the abandoned van and Yoongi scooped Hoseok inside.

Hoseok woke as Yoongi turned the key in the ignition they were headed for his home, but Hoseok had other plans. “You knew didn’t you?” Hoseok growled, “Take me to her."

“Not in this state?” Yoongi said definitely. “You are going to sober up, and then tomorrow you can speak with her.”

“You take me there right now, or I will get out of this car and go there myself!” Hoseok demanded, attempting to remove his seatbelt.

“Alright, alright sit down, I will take you to see her, but if you raise your voice at her I will knock you out and drag you back to your apartment." Yoongi turned to Hoseok with a menacing glare. "Do you understand?”

He nodded needing answers and he wasn't going to stop until you gave them to him. They pulled up outside your home and as he walked to the door he felt as if his legs were weak, ready to give way. He knocked with shaking hands.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to pull open the door eyes pink and swollen from your own tears.

"Hobi, I-"

"Please don’t talk, you had your chance. This whole time, and you didn’t… You didn’t tell me, little darling.” His voice cracked as he held up a hand to stop you, “it’s my turn to talk, you can listen to me.”

He watched you wipe the tears away, he wanted to comfort you, you were his closest friend. He loved you so much and couldn’t bear to see you upset. “You knew we had sex, you knew what we did and you hid that from me, you fell pregnant and you hid that from me?”

“I told you when I lost my virginity, I told you when I scratched my dad’s car, I told you when I took money from my fathers wallet, or when I stole your homework. I told you when I was moving from home, I told you everything good and bad.” Hoseok pulled out the phone and played the video, the sounds of you two together filling the air. “But you couldn’t tell me, your best friend, that we did this? That I might be the father of this baby?”

“Hobi, I wanted to tell you I was-” Your tears were relentless and it looked like the weight of the world was crushing you with guilt. You looked lost, he knew there must be so much you wanted to say and explain but the words escaped you. All you could think to do was apologize, like some sort of animatronic doll with one function.

“Wanted to tell me isn’t telling me,” he frowned. “Say it, is this baby mine?”

“Yes, you are the father?” You whimpered, holding your stomach. Hoseok didn’t feel better. He didn’t feel better confronting you or getting the truth. He didn’t feel better watching you cry. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You are all I have Hobi, and I love you.”

“I thought I loved you too. I thought I really truly loved you, that even though I wasn’t the father, I would step in if I could. It turns out the woman I fell in love with is nothing but a liar.” Hoseok turned away unable to see your face contort in pain from the words he was saying, “I am disappointed in you. You said you wanted to grow up, but this is so immature”

Demanding to leave, Yoongi took Hoseok and headed to the van once more, hoping that the two of you could rebuild your relationship. It was painfully obvious that you both were painfully in love, so much so, that it was breaking your hearts more to fight with one another, than over whatever the fight was about.

You had spent the rest of the night crying until pure exhaustion took over your body and you fell asleep. No matter how many times you texted or called you got no response. You had left almost fifteen voicemails before you became too hysterical to speak. You were emotional and trying your hardest not to break down long enough for you to think things through.

It took four days and sitting in the bottom of the shower for ten minutes before you came to a decision. Even before Hoseok knew he was the father, you had planned to do it on your own. You weren't weak and you knew for certain that you would be okay. You had planned to raise this child as a single mother, you had hoped to tell Hoseok before all this happened, but you had planned for it just in case something like this did happen.

You could do this without Hoseok, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, that you weren't mourning the relationship you had lost. You picked yourself up and put on a brave face crying only when you were alone as you single-handedly funded Ben and Jerry's company with the amount of ice cream you consumed.

You arrived at the next prenatal appointment. You watched all the couples cooing at their bellies and the little sonogram photos, as you sat alone quietly rubbing your belly and thinking how much you loved this child.

It strengthened your bond between you and your baby. You were working hard at your job, not ready to go on maternity leave as you didn’t know how financially stable you would be. You also worried because, without the distractions of work, you realized how alone you truly were and how much you missed Hoseok.

You wanted nothing more than to go back in time and take it all back. You wanted to get the courage and tell him. You would give anything to wake up beside him the morning after and just let yourselves deal with the aftermath.

Your mother's words echoed in your head, only able to be drowned out by the sound of your baby's heartbeat through the doppler, as the ultrasound technician measured your sweet little baby girl.

She had done no wrong and deserved only good things. It was on your way home from the scan that you decided to enter the baby boutique. You knew you were filling a Hoseok shaped void in your chest but you didn’t care, purchasing clothes, socks and shoes, and a tiny beanie all in mint green, white, or grey. At the checkout, you saw a small personal travel doppler for eighty dollars. It wasn’t as strong or as reliable as the one at the clinic but you bought it anyway.

It was the first thing you did when you got home, you put the gel on your stomach and pressed the doppler to your tummy, and listened to the tiny heartbeat and the swishing of the umbilical cord. The tears didn’t stop and that heartbeat in your belly was the mantra to which you swore to live your new life.

You were no longer living for yourself, you were living for your daughter, whom you loved so dearly. You stopped looking for Hoseok through the seventh and moved into the eighth month of your pregnancy feeling semi-okay.

Called by the marketing director to meet with the client, you followed him with documents, “Why did you pick me?” you asked

“You are the only one fit for this job,” He said, which made you feel odd, surely the pregnant lady wasn’t the first choice. However, you obeyed his orders, grabbed your coat, and followed to the restaurant where you were met with an unbelievable sight.

There was Hoseok standing by a beautiful woman dressed in a suit. Not only was it a punch to the chest, but it also left you self-conscious, resembling a chocolate egg. The way your body was so rotund did not do wonders for one's self-esteem.

Hoseok didn’t notice you until you stepped up to the table, your director announcing your arrival and greeting the young woman with a kiss on each cheek. “This is my hardest working assistant Miss Y/n,” The director said and you wondered again why he had chosen you to accompany him to the meeting.

“Well let’s get to business” the client smiled. You sat at the table and they brought out menus. “I will have the salmon en papillote, with a nice chardonnay.”

“I will have the same,” the marketing director said, attempting to look cool but you weren’t so sure.

“We will have the Steak au Poivre, I will take medium rare and she will have hers well done. What is in the side salad?” Hoseok asked and you looked up over the menu shocked by his audacity.

“We use a mesclun mix for its various colors and textures, with Lebanese cucumbers and avocado for a fresh and creamy taste and a drizzle of classic french vinaigrette” the waiter smiled politely.

“Skip the salads and instead vegetables would be preferable for both.” Hoseok closed the menu and looked up, the waiter looked at you for confirmation and you nodded handing over the menu.

“Have you two met before?” The client asked curiously and Hoseok shook his head, “It’s just you ordered for her?”

“She is pregnant so the best meat option is beef well cooked, and the salad would most likely make her sick due to the acidity in the vinaigrette.” Hoseok continued, “the vegetables, though plain, will be easier to handle and will benefit her better than a salad. It is something I learned in a birthing class once”

“Yeah, and you haven’t been back since.” You scoffed, drinking your water trying to calm yourself so you didn’t explode with anger.

“I didn’t think I had to, seeing as I am not the father of any children.” He said dryly back and you stood up throwing the napkin at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t care if he didn’t like you and refused to acknowledge your presence ever again, but saying that about your child was not okay.

“You take that back, Hoseok." You almost shouted but restrained yourself due to the setting, Hoseok didn’t appear to move and you tilted your head back and took a shaky breath. “I am sorry, it seems I am feeling ill, allow me to leave first”

You stepped out the door and headed down the road trying to find a cab when a hand grabbed your arm. Disappointed when it turned out to be the marketing director. “I rescheduled our meeting, I am sorry, you had to deal with something like this, it must be stressful being so pregnant”

He touched your belly and you were a little uncomfortable. This man was a little too interested in your pregnancy. At first, you thought he was just a nice boss who was looking out for you, but it was clear he had some strange thoughts running through his mind.

When he said he would drive you home, you told him you had an appointment. Even then he was determined to take you to the appointment, but you waved down a cab and jumped in quickly. You arrived at Jin and Tonic for a much-needed appointment.

“I want a drink” you sighed and Seokjin gave you water and you looked up seriously. I want an actual drink Jin, I am going through the worst year of my life.”

“Worse than the time you tried to become a volunteer at a homeless center, where some weird lady cut chunks out of your hair, so you had to shave it off?"

"Then you got into a fight with Hoseok because he drew an arrow on your head while you were sleeping and everyone called you Aang,” Jimin added as he shed his small jacket, showing off a pretty choker chain necklace with a rose pendant. “Cause you said that was the worst year of your life.”

“This is worse,” you said. “At least I was the one angry at Hobi and I forgave him quickly, now he is angry at me and even denied being the father of our baby. That’s not even the worst of it. My boss has some sort of pregnancy fetish and keeps trying to touch my belly and I am not here for it”

“Pregnancy fetish?”

“It’s not sexy, I am swollen from the neck down, I couldn’t see my feet this morning. I just hope I wore the same shoes. My bladder is so squished I am peeing all the time, I am hormonal and sweaty, and I can’t fit into my favorite pajamas.” The hysterical sobbing was muffled by the bar and it made Jimin giggle behind his hand. He walked around to give you a hug and Jin presented you with an ice cream sundae in an effort to cheer you up.

“Dance with me, pretty lady,” Yoongi said, finishing his drink and taking your hand. He led you to the dance floor where you were slow dancing like you used to. “You are still as pretty as always. Okay, you may not feel beautiful right now due to all those things, but I promise that you are.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You tried to get close enough to hug Yoongi but your belly prevented you from doing so, he stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around you slipping his hands under your belly and swaying. He was trying to take some of the weight to relieve some pressure on your back. “You are amazing,”

“I am, aren't I.” He laughed, swaying you softly.

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sttngfashion · 4 years

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5.26 and 6.1 - Time’s Arrow

Oh my god. Y’all. It’s a new Fashion It So post. In the year of our Picard 2020. Yes.

For literal years, Charlie and I have been like UGH WE NEED TO DO TIME’S ARROW PARTS 1 AND 2 BUT IT’S JUST SUCH A MONSTER.

Well, I’m doing a complete rewatch of the series with my partner and we just got to these two, so IT IS TIME.

We open in a cave in San Francisco, where Data and Picard are checking something out:

Rent for the cave is $6,000 per month

Showing them around is this guy in a Science Outfit:

He’s ready to go night biking

We’ve seen this look before in both Silicon Avatar and Devil’s Due, and it’s functional, yet cute. Basically a windbreaker in jumpsuit form.

They find a couple of items in the cave, including a pocket watch from 1889 and also:

I left my head in San Francisco

IT’S DATA’S HEAD!!! And it’s been there for FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. What could have caused this? And why is Data’s head so absolutely terrifying?

Is that fondant

This head is, in a word, haunting. The 2020 of heads.

Data and Geordi chat in Ten-Forward about what the presence of Data’s head in the cave means. Data says it means he’s mortal; that someday he will die, and that’s comforting. Spoiler alert: that’s not what it means. But it’s a nice conversation.

Also, Guinan is here!!!

Merlot My God!!

Or maybe: Burgundy-lightful!! Or perhaps: De-Crimson-alize Sex Work!! Okay that last one was a stretch but I really think I missed my calling as a nail polish shade namer.

Anyway, she’s here in her classic look of a pizza-sized hat and a flowing gown/coat/top/robe. The collar here is a little too close to a mock turtleneck for my liking and honestly - this is a little staid for our friend Guinan. I want a TEXTURE or a SWEEP or some WIDE RIBBING or some PLEATS. Don’t worry, though...she will get plenty more later.

Then there’s some plot which frankly we DO NOT HAVE TIME to get into but let’s just say: the away team goes to a planet, there’s a temporal disturbance, and Data ends up here:

Huge mood

Where are we? Or should I say WHEN are we??

Well that old-timey font is a good clue...also the horse

Are we in the Old West land of an off-brand Disneyworld? Are we going to ride something called Large Lightning Mesa Train Tracks? What colorful characters will we meet here?

Winner of 1893’s Mustache Medal

This type of ‘stache is called a Fu Manchu, after the character Dr. Fu Manchu. It’s not...a great look? But it is memorable, which is sometimes enough. He’s also wearing a simple black cap, probably made of silk. He’s keeping it cazh.

So where are we?

SAN FRANCISCO, OPEN YOUR GOLDEN GATE / YOU’LL LET NOBODY WAIT / OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR

Yes, it’s San Francisco. And it’s *eyes popping out of head like a cartoon wolf seeing a busty babe* 1893!!!! That temporal disturbance was...disturbing.

So who else do we have hanging out?

Please check out our Vaudeville act, Knit Cap ‘n’ Bowly

These dudes understand those famous Bay Area MICROCLIMATES, amirite? We’ve got a Henley. We’ve got a buttondown. We’ve got a vest. We’ve got a coat. No matter which way the thermometer decides to go, THEY ARE READY. Also loving the pop of forest green on Knit Cap’s knit cap.

We also have a 49er:

No, it’s not Steve Young. I googled “famous 49ers” to complete this joke so if there is a more famous 49er please let me know

It’s a literal 49er. Since it’s 1893, this guy’s been hanging around in town for a while, and he’s also familiar with the layering techniques one must master if one is to conquer the Bay Area’s climate. He also has a kicky Colonel Sanders-type tie. He asks Data for money and gives him a few panhandling tips. He’s chill. We like him. But don’t get too attached if you know what I mean!!!!

Data decides he needs somewhere to stay, so he finds a hotel:

Brian.

Why is this so funny to me. Brian. Why would you name your hotel Brian. Brian!!!! I know it’s a last name but like...Brian. HOTEL BRIAN.

This bellhop’s name is not Brian:

Where’s your hat, bro

He’s giving us a classic bellhop look, complete with too many buttons. He gives Data the very important information that there’s a poker game happening in the back of the hotel, which means: Data is about to be RICH rich.

The poker game includes a few good looks:

Louie Anderson IS Wolverine IN a Lands’ End barn coat

Two plaids? Sir...I salute you

Colonel Sanders Goes to Carnaval

Data, of course, wipes the floor with them so hard that he wins their clothes:

Didn’t get that barn coat tho

Yes, that’s the actual vest and the actual hat of those guys from the previous scene. Oh, I love it. I love Data in a vest over his uniform and I love Data with a feather in his cap. Let’s call it macaroni.

Meanwhile, out on the street, the plot is happening:

Beige: inescapable

This is our first taste of the decadent 1890’s sleeves that appear in this episode, and these aren’t even the best sleeves!! These are an amuse-bouche of sleeves. An armuse-bouche, if you will.

Anyway, these two are aliens disguised as humans who are here to steal the 49er’s life energy.

Pew pew pew

I told you not to get attached!!!

Back on the Enterprise, Guinan is doing mixology:

She would never call it something as stupid as mixology though

She tells Picard that he needs to go check out the temporal disturbance, too, even though captains don’t normally go on away missions, and then she gives him this look:

It’s that serious

When Guinan looks at you like this, you do what she says.

Now this outfit is much better than the earlier one. We have some pleated sleeves, which I didn’t even think was a thing you could DO. We have some sort of functional(?) strap(??) across the front. We even have matching fingerless gloves which always make a look A LOOK. And if Picard wasn’t sure whether he needed to go on this away mission, she then gives him THIS look:

Okay now it’s REALLY serious

Back in 1893, Data is making something:

It’s actually just a really complicated and large music box that plays “I Left My Head in San Francisco”

He’s gotten his hands on some more period-appropriate clothing, including a bow tie and a vest. Since he’s not wearing arm garters and his sleeves appear to be the correct length for his arms, we can conclude that the shirt was custom-made, not ready-made, because Data is now a baller due to his poker earnings.

Then, Data sees this in the paper:

I know her!! From work!!!!

Yes, it’s Guinan. In 1893. In a hat!!!!

We cut to the literary reception, which is honestly not as well-attended as I thought it would be, considering it got a GIANT photo of Guinan on page THREE of the paper, but okay. And who should we spy there but:

You’ll love my secret blend of 11 herbs and spices

No, it’s not Colonel Sanders. (Sorry, I really have Colonel Sanders on the brain because of that Lifetime movie.) It’s Samuel Clements, AKA Mark Twain. I had an English teacher in high school who explained the origin of his pseudonym (it indicates a mark of two fathoms, aka twelve feet, on a steamboat) and for some reason she shouted MAAAARK TWAAAAAIN when she told us that story so now her delivery of that line is in my head until I die I guess.

Anyway, it’s Mark Twain.

He’s wearing his iconic white linen suit with a black bow tie, and he’s also wearing a lot of prosthetics, because the actor playing him (Jerry Hardin, AKA Deep Throat from The X-Files AKA Melora Hardin AKA Jan Levinson-Gould’s dad) (was that too many AKAs) (you get it, right?) didn’t look enough like Mark Twain, I guess? In conclusion: what if eyebrow wigs were a thing?

Twain is having a chit chat with “Madame Guinan,” who is wearing what can only be called a sumptuous gown:

It’s 11:30 and the gown is sumptin’ sumptin’

There are so many ELEMENTS to this look! First of all: the color. Royal purple. Fit for a queen. Appropriate.

Then: those sleeves! These sleeves are known as “leg of mutton sleeves” because they KIND OF look like a leg of mutton. Have you ever seen a leg of mutton? I haven’t. I’ve only seen these sleeves. Plus they have a stripe?? No, I don’t know why, but I LOVE IT.

The cuffs and the cravat bring this from “dress” to “lewk.” Top it all off with this hat and you have a true 1893 mood.

What bird is that feather even from

We get a few good extra looks in this scene as well:

Pink Lady is NOT wearing a corset

Look, sometimes you don’t have enough period-appropriate undergarments for all the background people and that’s fine. But I WILL notice.

Is that Loretta Lynn

I am loving all of this! That purple dress is fantastic, those stripes? I die. Military man has some fun flair on his shoulder, and there is a dude in a beautiful turban back there. Plus, another Black lady in addition to Guinan and That One Ensign Who Is On The Bridge Sometimes.

Data rolls in to the literary event in a different suit with a CRAVAT:

Craving a cravat

Data is like “we serve together on the same starship in the 24th century” and Guinan is like “huh” but then she’s like “okay” which...I’m not sure if I would believe that? But let’s just say it’s fine.

Over in the 24th century, the literal entire bridge crew is checking out the temporal disturbance and I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL:

Blue Man Group...on ACID

These beings are like ghosts but also like Dr. Manhattan but also like pure energy.

Then everyone goes through the temporal disturbance AND THE SEASON ENDS.

Fortunately for you, this post will continue...right now.

Okay, so we’re back in San Francisco in 1893. You can tell by the horses:

Also the fruit carts

Samuel Clemens is strolling around with a reporter, telling him that he has a great story for him that involves time travelers and, like, protecting the nation.

Here’s the thing about this episode’s version of Mark Twain: he’s kind of a dick. Was the real Mark Twain kind of a dick? I just feel like Mark Twain should be JAZZED about meeting time travelers and not acting like a fuckin’ time cop* and trying to put the Enterprise crew on blast.

Anyway I love his double-breasted vest.

See my vest

The reporter’s hat is technically period-accurate, but that style is SO associated with the 1930s-1950s that I would have gone with something else. He looks cute though.

Meanwhile, Data is wearing a three-piece suit:

My positronic olfactory synapses are interpreting something as...a fart

I hate brown, but this is fine.

Additionally, the beige baddies from before are back and this time, they’ve got a SNAKE CANE:

Love the snake cane, hate how they suck the life out of people

But we are not here for them, we are here to see our faves in period clothing. Our first look is at Riker, who is dressed as an actual cop, not a time cop like Mark Twain:

The past just had...so many buttons

I guess if you’re a time-traveling white man there are worse disguises than a cop. But WHERE DID HE GET THIS UNIFORM? I choose to believe that he found a cop with a similar large handsome body to his own and beat the shit out of him and stole his clothes. Now we can all enjoy imagining a cop being beat up.

The badge that Riker is wearing is a great historical detail; the SFPD started wearing them in 1886 and are reportedly the first law enforcement agency to have worn the seven-pointed star, which is now a common shape among sheriff’s departments across the United States.

But let’s move on to a better look: Dr. Beverly Crusher:

Curlz MT

Okay, now I have more questions. Beverly obviously wouldn’t beat someone up for their clothes, so where did SHE get HER outfit? And who did her hair? Did she do her OWN hair? Where did she get a curling iron? Does she know how to use a curling iron? Was it one of those ones that’s actually made of iron that you have to heat up in a fireplace?

We will get answers to zero (0) of these questions.

We actually get a much better look at her dress later, so let’s focus on that cloak!!! I love it and I also love her hat. Okay, I guess I had less to say about those than I thought.

Bev and Will, along with the rest of the officers, have somehow procured a room/apartment in some lady’s lodging house. It’s cute!

They gave it 5 stars on AirBnB

This also raises questions. How did they get this room? How many bedrooms does it have? Are they sharing one large bed? If so, who has to sleep crossways at the foot of the bed and why is it Geordi? We will get zero answers to these questions as well, so let’s move on to arguably the hottest costume in this two-parter:

I’ll be in Holodeck 4

Whewwwwwww. He’s giving us a rolled sleeve. He’s giving us a casual tweed vest. The pants? They’re perfect. And he KNOWS how that slouch is working. It’s working VERY well. But the Irish landlady? She’s having NONE OF IT.

Absolutely NO nonsense

She needs the rent, but Picard charms her and she leaves. So I guess that’s how they got the room. Her look is knitwear-forward:

Eileen Fisher does sound like an Irish name

She’s got a shawl AND a cardigan! The cozy factor is OFF THE CHARTS. She also has a brooch, because a touch of fancy is always welcome. I will say that her hair is a little more fashion-forward than I’d expect for a woman of her age and station. This is straight up 1890s hair, and she would probably still be rocking an 1860s look, which isn’t as sweepy and would likely involve more braids. Still, she looks lovely.

Geordi is also here looking dapper:

Make the collar as high as you can. I want to be sliced open by my own collar

You CAN go wrong with a three-piece suit, but it’s difficult to. He can’t wear his visor, so he has some kicky shades which we’ll get a better look at in a sec.

Back at the Hotel Brian (lol), the bellboy (who we learn in this scene is Jack London, inspired to be a writer by Mark Twain [citation needed]) lets Mark Twain into Data’s room and allows him to look around unsupervised. This is very bad hotel management.

Great Scott

Then Data and Guinan show back up, and Mark Twain hides in an armoire.

One short day in the emerald brocade

I think one reason I love Guinan’s looks so much, both in the 24th and the 19th century, is that our color palette is very similar. We’re both winters. Bold jewel tones are the vibe. This one is in a beautiful deep green fabric with what looks like a velvet flocking pattern on it. The collar is also velvet, and I love that sleeve with a flounce on top like there wasn’t already enough fucking fabric on the sleeve so they just added a random piece to be like “yes, bitch. I’m a sleeve.”

Naturally, the hat is also jaunty af:

San Francisco’s hottest milliner is: Madame Guinan

This hat has everything: feathers, netting, a brim, an angle that makes you think it’s going to fall off but it doesn’t. We stan.

Meanwhile, Picard is setting up a sensor in a hospital while wearing a hat:

I’m bowled over

We haven’t even asked where Picard got these clothes, but I would like to point out that he’s dressed as a lower-class guy, while Riker is a cop, and Geordi looks like a gentleman. Was there even a discussion they all had about how they would disguise themselves? Was Picard like “I just really want to wear a beat-up bowler hat” and since he’s the captain, they extrapolated from there? This episode is NOT CONCERNED about any of this. They all have clothes, end of story.

Bev even has TWO outfits!!

Hello nurse!!!!

I love this look. She still has her unlikely hairstyle happening, which means her nurse’s cap is sitting atop her voluminous hairstyle. (Not very practical, but realistic!) She’s sporting a simple striped dress and a button-on apron. (Look closely and you can see the two buttons holding the apron to the dress.) The fabric underneath might be cotton seersucker, but it’s likely a lightweight cotton or linen twill. You can see how closely her look matches these nurses from a similar time period:

Hello nurses!!!!

Deanna is also in this scene and this episode, but you wouldn’t know it from what she’s given to do. HUGE SHOCKER: TROI NOT GIVEN ENOUGH TO DO IN AN EPISODE. 🙃

She still looks beautiful:

Why aren’t capelets more popular

We never get a really GREAT look at her whole outfit, but I can tell you that it has a capelet, it’s in the red family, and the hat has a lot of business going on. For those reasons: approved. It has a flounce in the back too:

More fabric = more wealth

Sometimes I think about just how much fabric it took to make these old-timey dresses and I’m like...how did anyone get anything done?? It takes me like 4 weeks to finish a pair of leggings and those have like 5 seams and I own a serger. These historical bitches were sewing whole ass dresses in no time at all.

Okay, so Bev is in this hospital and here come some more energy-stealing aliens, disguised as healthcare professionals this time:

I cannot take a medical professional wearing a LIGHT BROWN TOP HAT seriously, sorry

Bev AND this energy-stealing alien have BOTH managed to get their hands on the SAME nurse’s uniform?? I guess in the case of the alien, she is a shape-shifter, so she got her clothes from...that. And her hair.

I hate this light brown top hat. If you’re going to wear a top hat, don’t DISRESPECT IT by making it BROWN, but if you’re going to make it brown, make it a good brown, like chocolate. Stupid energy-stealing aliens.

There’s a skirmish, the energy-stealing aliens disappear, and the real cops show up:

MOUSTACHE

Of course, the cops showing up is bad, because when has a cop showing up ever made a bad situation better? Never. Defund the police, but don’t defund handlebar mustaches. Those can stay.

Fortunately, Data has gotten a ping on that machine he was building before and shows up on a motherfucking HORSE:

Brent just wanted to show off

He’s back in his brown striped suit and red tie. Okay.

Everyone returns to the boarding house to suss out the situation, and we get a look at what Riker is rocking underneath his cop jacket:

Suspend me daddy

You can see very clearly here how the collar is not actually attached to the shirt. This was a thing people in the olden days did so they could wear their shirt for multiple days in a row and just switch out the collar and cuffs so they looked clean. As someone who is wearing the same sweatshirt for the third day in a row, I support this method. (If you’re interested on more info about collars, here is a very enjoyable article about them.)

We are also blessed with a better look at Deanna’s sleeves and bodice:

Black lace cuffs? Decadent!!!

You can also see Geordi’s shades, which suit him really nicely. One thing I’ve been enjoying on this rewatch is just how well LeVar Burton can act without having his eyes visible. He’s great. Let’s just all think about how great LeVar Burton is for a second

And also Bev’s dress:

I legitimately want this dress

I don’t think those buttons are functional. Can you imagine how annoying THAT would be? But I am absolutely in love with this dress. Two paisleys, Beverly???? A goddess. I’m also dying for that brooch with the chain. A+ look all around, great work.

Finally, FINALLY, Guinan meets the rest of the crew:

When you meet someone you won’t actually know for 500 years

She is wearing a hat that looks like a toilet paper cozy. Did your grandma have one of these? They’re so stupid and I love them so much.

Picard and Guinan meet for what is the first time for her, but not the first time for him, and honestly it is...sensual?????

If I got a m’lady from P. Stew I wouldn’t even mind

Patrick and Whoopi truly do some nice work in this ep. But we are here to yell about clothes, so: LOOK AT THIS DRESS ON AN EXTRA:

Gimme dat dress

I just want that dress to wear around my house. I legitimately bought an 18th century costume dress to do just that, so don’t think I won’t literally do this.

OKAY, WE ARE ALMOST TO THE END.

The crew, plus Guinan, go back to the cave where this all started:

Cave Club, the only club that meets in a cave

We get a nice look at the bodice of Guinan’s dress here and guess what: MORE BUTTONS. Buttons on the lapels, and also buttons on the front panel with the pointy top. I wonder if she has multiple front panels for that dress in different colors, like a Swatch watch.

Unbeknownst to them, Mark Twain followed them!! Then there’s a scuffle with the energy-stealing aliens during which a few things happen:

Data’s head flies off

Mark Twain gets sucked into the temporal disturbance

Guinan gets hurt

Picard stays behind to make sure Guinan is okay

So we end up with Mark Twain on the Enterprise, where he sees Worf, and he’s like:

Buh-WHAT

Worf is also confused:

This is...extremely perplexing

We have a few more looks back on the Enterprise, including Regular Guinan:

ShoulderSpreads™: The Bed Spread for Your Shoulders

I love love LOVE this outfit. The color is perfect, the shoulderspreads are perfect, the front draping is perfect. It looks like a velvet housedress from the 1960s except FANCY which is kind of my ideal aesthetic. And it’s red (my fave).

We get a quick glimpse at the barber uniform:

Bitch let me pass, idc if you wrote Huck Finn

This barber does. not. give. a. fuck!!!!

Geordi reattaches Data’s head, the one they already had, which means this whole thing was a ding dang closed loop. The reattachment also kind of diminishes the whole conversation they had earlier about how Data’s head in the cave meant that Data could die someday, because...he didn’t. He still might, but his head is back and he’s fine now.

Meanwhile, Picard is still back in 1893 and they have to go get him, but only one person can come back through the temporal disturbance, so Mark Twain is like “duh I’ll go get him.”

And finally Guinan and Picard can talk about how their friendship spans 500 years!!!!

Hey girl

Hey

YOU’RE WELCOME

*abolish the police

#SEASON 5 #SEASON 6 #TNG #TNG FASHION #STAR TREK #STAR TREK FASHION

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giuliafc · 3 years

Text

Never Give up!

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: @rose-beagle-bagel (I beg your pardon, got the names confused!)

Summary: After Gabriel lowers his bar by locking Adrien up in his room unless he relinquishes his ring (because apparently, 'it interferes with his work'), Chat Noir can see only one solution. But Ladybug doesn't agree.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 8 — Tyranny/Admiration. Let me know what you think!

oOoOoOoOoOo

Adrien knocked at the door of his father's atélier and waited for him to tell him to come in.

"Adrien," commanded Gabriel. Adrien gulped and stood there.

"You wanted to speak with me, father?" he asked, his heart drumming in his ears.

Gabriel gave him a cold stare. "It has come to my attention that you wear items of clothing that haven't been agreed in the exclusivity contract of the Agreste brand."

"What?" Adrien had to check that he'd heard correctly. "Father, I only wear the clothes you provide for me."

Gabriel's gaze hardened. "Show me your hands."

Adrien gasped. "Is it about my ring?"

"François complained after yesterday's photoshoot. He told you to take the ring off because it was interfering with the outfit, and you refused. Is this true?"

"I-it is." Adrien gulped. Gabriel’s gaze punctured his soul and the boy put his left hand on top of his right one, as if to protect his Miraculous from his father's attention.

"Hand over the ring."

Adrien's face paled "No! No, father, why? You can't—"

"I can and I will, Adrien. Your attachment to that junk has affected your work. It's stated clearly in your contract that all you wear must be pre-approved. I won't give you my approval for something that can damage your image."

"Father!" retorted Adrien, his body tense. "It's only a ring!"

"Go back to your chamber. I'll cancel your enrollment at school; from tomorrow you shall resume your homeschooling lessons with Nathalie." Gabriel sneered when Adrien gasped. "You won't be allowed to see any of your friends nor to set foot out of this house until you relinquish that ring."

Adrien's eyes widened in shock and his mouth hung open. "You can't be serious, father? Containing me in my room, for a ring?"

"If it was only that, you would've relinquished it here and now. Evidently, it's not 'only a ring' to you. You're refusing a direct order. I won't repeat myself, go to your chamber."

Adrien balled both hands into fists, his arms shaking, his eyes looking down. "I can't believe this," he muttered. He got up and, glaring at his father with tears in his eyes, dragged himself out of his office.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chat heard the soft thump behind him and saw Ladybug sitting graciously next to him. His gaze scanned gloomily the city of Love beneath them. A view that until now, had been for him and his Lady, only. A look that he would never see again. His heart sank when his gaze met bluebells. It was the only way.

"You said that it was important, Chaton?" said Ladybug, but she immediately noticed his heavy gloom. "What's wrong?"

"I… need to give my Miraculous back." Ladybug sucked her breath in. "I'm sorry."

She put a hand on his shoulder. " W-what's going on?"

He lowered his gaze as his hand played with the Miraculous on his ring finger. "My life at home isn't easy, Buginette. I have a lot of restrictions and up to now, I have been able to pencil time for our patrols and escape timely enough to help you in the akuma fights." He sighed. "But things have changed today. My fath-uh-family is very controlling. I can’t do anything that isn't 'pre-approved'." He paused. "Today, I've been asked to relinquish my ring. I've been literally locked up in my own house with no possibility of getting out until I do it."

He found his eyes looking at Ladybug; all he saw was disbelief in her face.

"I never knew that your civilian life was so difficult, Chaton. I can't believe that someone you call 'family' would forbid you from wearing a ring. Can you not just put it on a chain to your neck?"

Chat Noir sighed. "No, M’lady. They would see the chain and ask me to remove it. By contract I'm not allowed to wear anything that is not branded Ag—uh, family brand. Until today, the rule never bothered me; now… it bit me in the back."

"I cannot believe that a family member could be such a tyrant!" Ladybug's voice was high and cracking and Chat Noir's green eyes were on the brink of tears. He explained to Ladybug the truth of his situation, trying to avoid any detail that would give his identity away. He explained how his mother died a year ago, how his father hardened since her death, how he sometimes didn't even have time to breathe with all the commitments his family was pushing on him.

"Woah," muttered Ladybug absent-mindedly. "You're always so cheerful, Minou. I would never have thought you were going through such-such hell." Her eyes were burning with anger. "I don't know how you do it. Honestly, I admire you, Chaton. It sounds as if you had your hands full, but you were never late for a patrol and you always arrived as soon as possible during akuma attacks. You must have the best organisational skills in the world."

Chat Noir smiled. "Thank you, Buginette. Your admiration means the world to me." His smile faltered. "How do you want to do it? Should I take you to my room and detransform?"

She grabbed his hands and looked up at him with a frown of pure determination. "No way, Chaton. You're not giving up on the only freedom you have. I'm not doing this without you either." Her voice cracked. "It's you and me against the world, remember? Ladybug and Chat Noir. If you're giving up yours, I'll be giving up mine. Together or nothing." She smiled softly as she said that and he smiled shyly back. "We will find a way," she continued. "But first, c'me here." She opened her arms wide and Chat Noir's eyes filled with tears as he let her wrap him into a hug.

Yes, she was right. They would find a way. They were an unstoppable team and there was nothing on this planet that they couldn't overcome together.

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

Author's Note

Hi there! Here we are with day 8. I know… but with a prompt like 'tyranny' all I could think of was angst. Hope I managed to save it at the end with a little fluff. I hope you like it and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter!

Until (hopefully) tomorrow, bug out!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #chat noir #adrinette #ladybug #ladynoir july #ladynoir #miraculous fanworks #ladynoirjuly2021

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

Falling For You

Pairing: Jake DeBrusk x female!OC

Summary: Sutton Beckett is settling for an unhappy relationship, but a chance encounter with Jake changes everything.

Word Count: 18k+

A/N: Happy birthday, JD! Here’s the fic I’ve been working on since the beginning of quarantine. It’s been fun for me to write in my free time. It’s mostly a friends to lovers story, but very much a slow burn. SLOW. BURN. (Title inspired by Fallingforyou by The 1975)

Warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption, shitty boyfriend (not Jake)

Masterlist

January 20th, 2019

Sutton Beckett was pouting into a Long Island Iced Tea in the middle of a club in Boston. Despite being surrounded by her two best friends and a sea of beautiful, smiling people, she couldn’t find it in herself to crack so much as a smirk.

“Stop moping,” her roommate, Kate, demanded. Sutton lifted her chin and caught the glare she was sending her. “You’re no fun when you’re fighting with Garrett.”

“So, she’s no fun all the time?” their other roommate, Mia, asked with a sarcastic laugh.

“I’m fun!”

“Yeah, when you’re not fixated on every little detail of every little fight you have with him.”

Sutton almost opened her mouth to argue that her roommates were wrong, but she was tired of fighting it. They were completely right. Her relationship of two years was draining her energy completely.

When she first met him, their relationship felt like a dream. He was older, so he had a well-paying job and she reaped the benefits of those paychecks. He brought her to five-star restaurants and surprised her with gifts just because. He talked about the future and his plans to buy them a house on the Cape. She loved him, she saw that future with him, but as time had gone on the vision was getting dimmer.

After they hit a year and a half, a switch flipped.

When Garrett stopped caring, she blamed it on his work, but months passed and she needed something new to blame it on. His parents’ divorce, his sister’s Bridezilla wedding planning, even the death of his childhood dog. But she knew, and her friends knew, the relationship was a disaster and her excuses weren’t good enough.

“What was the fight about tonight?”

“He didn’t like what she was wearing,” Kate answered the question before Sutton could even open her mouth. Sutton opened her mouth, no doubt to come to Garrett’s defense, but Kate warned her, “Don’t defend him.”

“I’m going to grab another drink.”

Sutton found an open space at the bar and gunned for it. But, just as she stepped into the space, someone else did the same and she nearly crashed right into the broad chest of a random man. He stopped short just before she collided into him. When she looked up at him, he spoke but the music was too loud to hear. So, he leaned down to speak into her ear.

“You can order first,” he spoke, nodding towards the bar. “I’ll wait my turn.”

The boy stood at least two steps behind her as she leaned against the bar and stood on her tippy toes to get the bartender’s attention. She was shorter than almost everyone standing at the counter and kept getting ignored as a result, so he finally took matters into his own hands and waved the bartender down.

She spotted him and made a beeline to their side of the bar, though she looked directly past Sutton and up to him.

“I’ll have a ginger whiskey,” he spoke. He extended his hand with his card right over Sutton’s shoulder. “And whatever she’s having you can put on my card, too.”

Sutton almost protested, but the moment she turned to do so, he simply shook his head and she snapped her mouth shut. She placed her order, despite herself, and turned back to the boy as the bartender went to grab the drinks.

“I have a boyfriend,” she told him. He choked on his laughter, but said nothing more as he leaned over her to grab their drinks from the counter of the bar. He handed her glass to her as she continued rambling. “I wasn’t sure if you were, like, flirting with me and I didn’t want to take advantage of you if you were.”

“I was totally flirting with you,” he admitted. Sutton’s eyebrows shot up at his honesty. “But, hey, no problem. We can just be friends, yeah?”

She eyed him skeptically because, honestly, no guys just wanted to be friends. But the smile on his face made it hard for her to believe that he had any bad intentions. He just looked kinder than most guys—soft eyes, kind smile, brown hair that was a little long and tousled like he couldn’t have been bothered to groom it himself.

“Sure, we can be friends,” she told him with a smile that mirrored his own. “What’s your name?”

“Jake,” he introduced himself as he extended his hand.

“I’m Sutton,” she responded, dropping her hand in his. His fingers, rough against her much softer and more delicate skin, curled around her hand and gave her a firm shake.

“I love your outfit,” he said, leaning back to admire the lace body suit she paired with black skinny jeans. Her hand remained in his grasp as she threw her head back with a laugh. How beautifully ironic this interaction was.

“Thank you,” she responded, shaking her head at him in amusement as they dropped each other’s hands. “Guys never compliment girls on what they wear, so thank you for being a breath of fresh air.”

“Not even what’s-his-name?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

She laughed again before offering his name.

“Garrett.”

“Garrett,” he scoffed. He knew he was probably treading on thin ice, but he also noticed how easily the laughter was falling from her lips, so he continued. “Garrett doesn’t compliment you?”

“Not tonight,” she said, gazing down at the glass in her hands. She didn’t mean for it to come out sounding that sad, and yet. “No.”

Jake frowned as he watched her close in on herself. The laughter was gone and her eyes had gone dark and the smile on her lips was upside down, so he asked, “Do you want to dance?”

And, because the five minutes she’d been around him made her smile harder than the past six months with Garrett, she decided to say, “I’d love to.”

In the middle of the dancefloor, he spun her into his chest. His free hand fell to her hips as her arms curled around his neck to rest her elbows on his shoulders. She giggled softly again before curling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It started out innocent enough, but as the music changed so did the air between them. It wasn’t long before her back was pressed against his chest, glasses forgotten on a table a few steps away from them. His hands danced along her sides and wrapped around her waist to pull her close.

He liked the way she laughed and the way she felt against him and he noticed that she would lull her head to the side when he leaned down to whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her neck and she reacted immediately and it turned him on. He wanted to touch her bare skin, he wanted to kiss her neck, and he wondered if he could press his luck. He reached up, brushed her hair behind her, and leaned in to place a chaste kiss against her neck.

Nothing more happened, though they danced through another few songs before he was dragged away from her to rejoin his friends. He practically begged for her phone and left his number under a contact name of Jane (“Just in case Gary sees,” he explained. “Garrett,” she corrected him.)

When she returned home that night, she jumped in the shower immediately, earning confused looks from her roommates. She told them that she just felt gross when she really just needed to wash him off her skin.

---

February 12th, 2019

“Garrett, wonderful to see you.”

“Likewise.”

Sutton laughed to herself at the sarcastic formalities exchanged between her boyfriend and Mia. It had been a few weeks since her night out with the girls and, even though Sutton and Garrett hadn’t fought since, Mia still couldn’t stand seeing him in their apartment.

“Where’s my girl?”

“Bedroom.”

Sutton heard him approaching and pulled the door open. When he stepped in, he held up a jersey and waved it in her direction.

“You can wear my Pasta jersey tonight,” he spoke. “He’s one of our best players.”

She reached out and took it from his hand, but he didn’t release it. Instead, he leaned in and puckered his lips for a kiss. She complied after mentally rolling her eyes at him. He let go of the jersey, and she slipped it on over a long sleeve shirt. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, baby,” he answered, stepping up behind her as she check herself out in the mirror. He wound his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “This is such a great gift.”

“I’m glad,” she said softly, thinking about all the money she’d spent on it. He better have liked it, if not only for the dent it left in her wallet.

They made it to their seats five minutes before puck drop. He spent most of their ride to the Garden talking her ear off about the team and the season they’d been having, but Sutton never cared much for sports so most of it was in one ear and out the other.

It wasn’t until the team came out for the beginning of the game that Sutton’s worlds collided. Above her head on the massive Jumbotron, Jake was smiling down at her. She gasped, hand jolting in surprise just enough to spill some beer on Garrett’s jeans.

“Sutton, what the hell?” he grunted, wiping the liquid off his leg. She muttered an apology, but her eyes were already searching the ice for the boy she’d been considering a missed connection. He stood at center ice, shuffling on his skates as the anthem played. And his number? 74. Just like the jersey Garrett was wearing.

She was flustered in the very worst way. It felt like she was barely functioning, unable to carry a conversation with Garrett because her mind was so clearly on Jake. It was made even worse whenever she caught a glimpse of his last name branded across Garrett’s back. She felt a little bit sick, and a little bit guilty, even though she didn’t really have a reason to be.

On the way back to her apartment, Garrett chattered on about the game while she stared down at her phone in her lap. It felt heavier now that she’d been reminded of the number in her phone.

He walked her up to her apartment, though she kind of hoped he’d just stay in the car, and waited for her to change out of his jersey before going. Kate began to chat with him, and Sutton made a mental note to thank her later for at least being polite.

“What are you guys going to do for Valentines?”

“Well, we just had an early Valentines’ date tonight,” he said. Sutton reentered the room at that moment, wishing she had stayed in her bedroom for a moment longer so she didn’t have to hear that. “Did you have fun, baby?”

She nodded because she genuinely thought if she opened her mouth that she would cry.

“Oh!” Kate responded. Her face was white, eyes shifting uncomfortably between her best friend and the guy who’d just crushed her spirit. “No dinner on the day of?”

Garrett offered the girls a performative pouted, dropping an arm over Sutton’s shoulders, as he responded, “I tried to get reservations at Sutton’s favorite spot, but they’re all booked up.”

“When did you try to do that?” Kate asked, eyebrows raised in shock.

“I called last weekend.”

“Garrett, it’s Valentines’ Day,” Mia grunted as she entered the room. He glared at her. “You can’t just call the weekend before and get a table. You should’ve planned in advance.”

“Oh, no,” Sutton spoke up, suddenly finding her voice as she waved off their concerns. “It’s really not a big deal. We’ve been together for so long, you know? We’ve celebrated way too many things. Besides, Valentines’ is just a money maker, right?”

“You crack me up,” he murmured. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sutton’s lips. “Listen, babe, I have to run. Early morning tomorrow. I’ll call you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kate and Mia waited until they heard the elevator doors close before launching into a dramatic monologue about how much they hated him, how Sutton deserved better. Sutton, on the other hand, made herself a grilled cheese while they ranted at her and tried to tune them out.

When she was in bed later that night, she couldn’t find it in her to turn on the television or read the book she’d bought earlier that afternoon. Instead, she stared blankly at the wall in front of her and let her brain run a mile a minute.

Finally, after about thirty minutes, she grabbed her phone and pulled up Jake’s contact. She laughed at the contact photo, a goofy selfie he’d taken of himself just before leaving her that night.

When were you going to tell me you were a professional hockey player?

She deleted it and retyped it about five times before just hitting send and hoping for the best.

Across the city, Jake was slipping into his apartment and nearly dropped the food he grabbed on the way home when he saw her name flash across the screen. He smiled when he read her message and settled down at the kitchen table to respond before eating.

Right now, I guess

Bubbles popped up on his screen immediately as she typed out a message of her own. He locked his phone, then unlocked it, watching the bubbles intently as if urging her to type faster.

I was at the game tonight… My boyfriend wore your jersey.

Jake licked his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth to suppress the cocky grin that was finding its way to his lips.

What did you wear?

Sutton laughed at the undertone of the message, but before she could respond he’d already sent another.

I don’t mean it like you think I do. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Her response: I wore a Pastrnak jersey… And my mind isn’t in the gutter

Well, why don’t you just rip my heart out, Sutton???

The next morning, she woke up to a follow request from him and the realization that a simple shower wasn’t going to make him go away.

---

February 14th, 2019

In the two days since Garrett dropped the bomb about the lack of Valentines’ plans, Sutton had come to terms with it. It was okay that they weren’t going out to some fancy dinner surrounded by happy couples or desperate singles… As long as he did something to make up for it.

Quite honestly, she wasn’t asking for much.

Flowers would be great, she thought. But, at this point, she would settle for a heartfelt card (or, hell, even a text).

She woke up to a coffee, still hot, waiting for her on the counter with a sweet Post-It note from Kate. Mia even snuck freshly baked cookies into the girls’ lunches. Sutton would be making dinner in their apartment that night as her contribution to their Valentines’ Day plans. At the end of the day, she knew she’d be thankful she spent the night with her girls instead of Garrett.

Maybe that was a problem.

There were no flowers waiting for her when she got to work, and still none by lunchtime. She checked with the office’s receptionist three times that day, wondering if she’d missed a call or something like that. But she hadn’t.

It was around 4 p.m., two hours until the end of her work day, when she heard the mail cart rolling down the hallway.

“Special delivery for Miss Beckett!”

Sutton’s heart fluttered. She practically danced out to the hallway from her desk. The cute elderly man who delivered the mail was standing just beyond the threshold with a black box wrapped in a beautiful white bow.

“Thank you, Earl.”

“Enjoy, beautiful,” he said. “He better treat you right or someone else might come and snatch you up.”

Sutton laughed politely as she walked back to her desk. She placed the box down and squealed excitedly as she pulled the ribbon apart. She took the top off, pulled back the tissue paper, and revealed a Bruins t-shirt with a note that read: You’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend

While Kate and Mia set the dinner table that night, Sutton found herself preoccupied with dinner and Jake DeBrusk, once again. She’d been thinking about his gift all day.

Since she texted him the other night, they’d been Snapchatting a little bit. It was never anything of substance, just photos of his sneakers or skates and her coffees. They hadn’t exchanged any message since earlier that morning, and certainly not after the arrival of his gift, but she knew she’d have to thank him eventually. It made her nervous to think about. She typed out a dozen of texts, but kept talking herself out of it and deleting them. She was so far in her head that she couldn’t figure out how to deal with the situation.

She figured that she should’ve been more upset with him. Sending her a gift on Valentines’ Day when he knew she had boyfriend was clearly crossing a line and she knew she needed to stop him before he took it too far. But, she couldn’t help but ask herself if she even wanted to.

Against her better judgement, Sutton decided she needed to ask for help from the girls. So, as she placed the entrée down on their dining table, she announced, “I need to talk to you guys. And I need you to not be crazies, or jump to conclusions, or anything like that.”

“If it’s about Garrett, I’m liable to be a little crazy.”

“It’s not about him,” she said. “Well, it kind of is. Indirectly, at least.”

“Spit it out, Sutton.”

“Remember when we went out after Garrett and I fought at the end of last month?” she asked. The girls nodded, already digging into the food on their plate despite Sutton being too nervous to put anything on her own. Kate noticed and began shoveling food onto her plate for her, pushing it towards her after it was full. “I met a guy.”

“Excuse me?” Mia blurted out. “What do you mean you met a guy?”

“His name was Jake,” she continued. The girls nodded along, hanging onto every word that Sutton said while she went through the details of the night she met him, and the night she saw him again. They both had smiles on their faces, giggling at the way Sutton relayed their texts from two nights prior.

Kate couldn’t believe she had been talking to a player on the Bruins. Mia was just happy she was talking to someone other than Garrett.

“He sent me one of those t-shirt jerseys,” she said. “Today.”

“Today?!”

“Yeah, and he left a note that said ‘you’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend’.”

The girls swooned.

“I love him!” Mia announced. Kate nodded in agreement. “You have to call him and say thank you.”

“Call him?”

“Absolutely!”

“I feel guilty,” she admitted. “I should probably let him down easy, right? I have a boyfriend, and he knows that. He shouldn’t have sent me that gift… Let alone on Valentines’ Day!”

As expected, her roommates groaned or eye rolled or reacted in whatever frustrated way they wanted to.

“We’ll clean up after dinner if you call him.”

Jake declined her call, and then FaceTimed her back. She threw the phone onto her bed, far away from her, at the sight of herself and grabbed an elastic from her dresser to tame the frizzy locks on her head.

“What kind of psychopath FaceTimes someone they hardly know?!” Sutton screamed to her roommates. She heard them laughing in the living room. “And without warning!”

“Answer him!” Mia yelled. “I hate the sound of your ringtone!”

Sutton huffed out in frustration and plopped onto her bed, checking once more to see if she looked okay. She pressed her thumb over the front camera and answered.

Jake was grinning when he popped up, but then he frowned comically.

“I FaceTimed you for a reason.”

“And I voice called you for a reason.”

Sutton watched as Jake threw his head back with a laugh and smiled despite herself. He was in a hotel bed, at least that’s what it looked like, and he was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow. He stared at the black screen on his end of the call and sighed.

“Sutton, show yourself.”

She rolled her eyes, but did as she was told and pulled her thumb off the camera. Before he could say anything, she asked, “How did you know where I work?”

“You put the building on your Instagram story yesterday,” he answered. “And the company is in your Instagram bio. I put two and two together.”

“I really appreciate the gift, Jake, but I have a boyfriend.”

Jake blinked at Sutton, unphased by the statement, before finally saying, “I know that.”

“You really shouldn’t be sending me gifts on Valentines’ Day.”

“It’s Valentines’ Day?” he asked. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious or he was just joking around. He laughed softly at her confused expression. “Relax, Sutton. I just wanted to get you the jersey before our game tomorrow night.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he teased. She rolled her eyes. “Was he mad?”

“He didn’t see it.”

“Why? Did you throw it out? Don’t tell me you threw it out. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I could pay for a new one, but I always hoped if anyone was going to get rid of my jersey they would burn it. It’s so much cooler that way.”

Sutton laughed at him, and Jake beamed at the sound. He hadn’t heard it since the night at the club and it was just as pretty as he remembered.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Shouldn’t you be out right now?” he asked. “It’s only 9 p.m. You look like you’re in bed.”

“That’s because I am in bed.”

“Why?”

“Because I have work tomorrow.”

“What did you do tonight?”

“You ask so many questions.”

“I’m trying to get to know you.”

Although they were a whole country apart from each other, him in a hotel room in California and her in bed in Boston, she felt vulnerable. It was because of the way he was looking at her through the screen, the softness of his voice when he was flirting with her, the not-Valentines’ gift and handwritten note that still sat beside her.

“I made dinner for my roommates and I,” she answered. “It was nice.”

“You and Garrett have roommates?”

“Oh, my God,” Sutton grumbled. He was really going to make her spell it out for him wasn’t she. (And, yes, he fully intended to.) “No. I don’t live with him. I live with my two best friends.”

“Did he not spend Valentines’ with you?”

“No, he did,” she said. Her voice dropped to a mumble. “Two nights ago, at TD Garden with you and thousands of other people.”

“Tell me he got you a better gift than a t-shirt with my last name on it,” Jake pleaded, no longer finding the humor in teasing her about him. Sutton grit her teeth in response, not wanting to tell him the truth but knowing she couldn’t lie. “I am your fucking Valentine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am by default,” he argued. “And so are your roommates apparently.”

“We celebrated early! Why is that so crazy?”

“Who bought the tickets to the game?” Jake asked. Her silence spoke volumes. “You did, huh?” Sutton nodded. “What kind of asshole doesn’t get his girlfriend a gift on Valentines’ day? What kind of asshole doesn’t even bring her out to dinner?”

“Jake, that’s enough.”

“Did he send you flowers? A card?”

“Jake!” Sutton yelled. He pulled his phone away from his face at the sharpness of her tone. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I already hear it from my roommates. I don’t need to hear it from you. You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I want to.”

There was a pause in conversation, a moment of intense eye contact (if you could even call it that through the phone). Then, Sutton dropped her head back in frustration.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about you since I first met you.”

“I have a boyfriend, Jake.”

“Sort of.”

“Stop.”

“Okay.”

Sutton let out a frustrated sigh and Jake watched her run her free hand through her hair while her eyes gazed at something across the room. They looked like they were welling up and Jake frowned, the feeling of helplessness washing over him as he realized he didn’t quite know how to make the situation any better.

“You’re going to wear the shirt tomorrow, though, right?” he asked, forcing a grin onto his face. She looked at him and laughed. “Because if you tell me you’re wearing a Pasta jersey again, it will break my heart.”

“Yes, I’ll wear your jersey.”

They spent another thirty minutes on the phone talking about nothing important. Jake was happy to be talking to her for real, not through Snapchats that he had to disguise as snaps he sent to everyone on his contact list. As their time together ended, it was clear neither of them was quite ready to hang up.

“I’ll admit,” she started. Jake’s eyebrows perked up. “I like talking to you, Jake DeBrusk.”

“I knew I’d wear you down at some point.”

“But I have a boyfriend.”

“What did I say at the bar?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of what he was referring to. The only thing that came to mind from that night was the feeling of his lips against her skin. It was hard to remember everything else. He made her head fuzzy. “We can just be friends.”

---

March 1st, 2019

Sutton’s relationship with Garrett and her friendship with Jake were never supposed to come closer to intersecting than it had on February 12th and there were a few reasons for that.

The first was that Sutton didn’t want to taint the friendship she had with Jake by throwing Garrett into the equation. It just felt too close for comfort. Besides, she knew the two wouldn’t get along. Jake was giggly, happy, full of life. Garrett was serious, grumpy, exhausting. Just because she liked being around them separately did not mean she’d like them together.

The second was that she knew if Garrett found out about their friendship, he would be pissed. There was a reason she shied away from having guy friends. Garrett hated sharing her with other guys, and that included her work husband who was a gay man in his 40s. He was slightly possessive, but she brushed it off as his own insecurities and vowed not to make the relationship more difficult than it needed to be. Just like everything else in life, Sutton catered the relationship to him.

Kate and Mia found humor in the way that Sutton’s life had suddenly become a revolving door. Garrett was there one minute and the second he was gone Jake was showing up at their front door. They started referring to the two parts of Sutton’s life as church and state. Always separate.

She found it easy to keep it that way. Her friendship with Jake was almost completely virtual, save for a happy hour or two. He was busy with hockey, so she didn’t have to worry about him asking her to hang out on the weekends or ever at night. She reserved those for Garrett.

Besides, something about being with another guy after sunset just felt a little scandalous to her and she didn’t need anyone—Jake, Kate and Mia, Garrett, herself—getting the wrong idea.

Nights with Garrett were few and far between. He seemed to be getting busier and busier at work, but Sutton played the part of the doting girlfriend (which really she was) even better. She made him dinner before he went in for night shifts, waited for him to come home from working overtime to give him a massage, made him breakfast before he went out to work again.

Things seemed to be getting better between them, despite his busy schedule. So much so that he met her at work that Friday to bring her to happy hour. He said he wanted to check out a new place downtown, and she went happily because it finally felt right.

Apparently, the opening of this bar was highly anticipated because the place was packed. Unlike Valentines’ Day, Garrett called ahead. Sutton kept the sarcastic comments swirling through her mind to herself and settled into the booth across from him with a sweet smile.

They browsed the menu; Sutton a little longer than Garrett due to her indecisiveness. He gazed around the bar, taking in the atmosphere and then the sight of not one, not two, but a whole group of Boston Bruins.

“Sutton, you’ll never guess who just walked in,” he said in an excited whisper. Sutton gazed up at him from the menu with a smile, then followed his eyes to the door. “Do you know who that is?”

Among a group of men in athletic clothing stood Jake in a Bruins sweatshirt. She spun back to face Garrett and shook her head to give him the illusion that she had no idea who they were even though her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“Those are some of the Bruins players,” he murmured. “I gotta get a picture with them.”

“Well, why don’t you just let them get drinks and then you can ask for a picture before we leave,” she suggested. The shake of her voice was enough to give her away, if Garrett would only listen.

“That’s Jake DeBrusk,” he continued, eyes still trained on the men across the room. “And Charlie McAvoy.”

“Stop staring, babe,” she said. She took his chin between her fingers and redirected his attention to her. “It’s rude to stare.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, leaning back against his seat. “It’s like if one of those podcasters you liked walked in. I’m star struck.”

Sutton’s heart was pounding in her chest long after Garrett stopped staring at the players that had entered the bar. She knew Jake wouldn’t notice her with her back to him, and since he’d never met Garrett it was impossible that he’d even recognize him. But with Garrett jumping for joy at the opportunity to meet them, she knew she couldn’t avoid him completely.

She spent the entire time trying to figure out how this was going to go down, and even when it came down to it she couldn’t be sure she was making the right decision.

She gathered her things, including her nerves, as Garrett approached Jake. He’d been on the way to the bar when Garrett reached him and the two exchanged polite conversation, smile plastered across Jake’s face as usual.

“Sutton, baby, would you come take a picture for us?”

His smile dropped the moment Sutton locked eyes with him.

“Sure!” she said cheerily, diverting her eyes from his stare. She flitted over to take Garrett’s hand in hers. Jake watched, stomach turning. He was frozen in place. She wasn’t even going to say hello? She wouldn’t meet his eyes or even give him a playful look, a wink even, to acknowledge him behind Garrett’s back.

Jake clenched his jaw and led them back to the table, teeth grinding against each other like they never have before.

“Boys, real quick picture, okay?”

Everything moved so fast. Garrett jumped in with them, Sutton snapped the picture, then stepped away as Garrett praised them on the season they’d been having. She ignored the way Jake was staring at her, tapping away at her phone instead of engaging with him. Like, what else was she supposed to do?

“What’s your name?” Charlie called out. Sutton looked up at him, anxious as all hell that the cat was going to be out of the bag in approximately five seconds. Thankfully, Garrett was talking to one of the other guys they were with and she caught her breath. “You look familiar.”

“Familiar?” she asked with a laugh. Jake watched her carefully. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Charlie looked skeptical and then, as he turned to ask Jake if he thought you look familiar too, it clicked.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. And then, as he looked back and forth between the two of them, he also realized the tension. “Holy shit.”

Jake shook his head at Charlie before turning to sit in his chair. Sutton stared at his back, hating every choice she’d made in the minutes before.

“Well, listen, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” Garrett finally said. Sutton redirected her attention to him, hand curling around his forearm as he reached out to her. “Good luck the rest of the way.”

He received words of thanks from the men as they turned back to their food and drinks, and then he was guiding her out of the entrance of the restaurant. Sutton stole one last glance at Jake on the way out and knew that she fucked up.

For the rest of the meal, Jake was quieter than usual because his head was reeling. He was stupid to ever get attached to her. All the time they’d spent talking made him forget that she already had someone at home. Seeing him with her, holding her hand, snapped Jake back to reality. He needed to give himself space.

That’s why when Sutton texted him that night to apologize. (I’m sorry about today! I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. But thanks for taking a picture with him.)

He left her on read.

---

March 4th, 2019

Nights were meant for Garrett, but Sutton gave herself one pass.

Jake hadn’t answered her texts or Snapchats since happy hour. She knew the way she acted was shitty, but did he expect her to just tell Garrett about him? It seemed like mess of situation that she didn’t want to get into. Three days later, and after numerous attempts to get in contact with him, she had to go full-on stalker mode.

Jake was at practice late that afternoon, so she planned to grab his favorite meal from a local Thai restaurant and drop it at his apartment when he was home later that night. She followed through, feeling confident in herself as she marched towards his apartment with her head held high.

That feeling dissipated almost as soon as the elevator left the ground floor, but she kept it pushing despite the anxiety. At his door, she knocked once, and waited. No response came. She knocked two more times with the same result and decided to give up.

Maybe it was a sign from the universe that she wasn’t supposed to try to fix this. She took this thought in stride, turning to walk away from his door and find shelter in her apartment across the city. And then the elevator opened and Jake stepped out.

They both stopped in their tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop this off,” she answered, extending the Styrofoam take-out box to him. He walked toward her with his duffel bag over his shoulder looking tired and sweaty. He took the box from her hand as he passed by her to unlock his door.

He was momentarily stunned into silence. She had texted him and called him a few times since happy hour, but he figured she’d just stop trying eventually. The thought of never seeing her again stung, but he gave himself a lengthy pep talk the day after the Garrett fiasco and then he re-downloaded all his dating apps.

“I’m going to go.”

“Hold up,” he murmured, kicking the door open. “Come inside for a minute.” Her feet remained planted to the carpeted hallway beneath her feet. She glanced at the elevator, then back at him. “Or don’t.”

Jake pushed the door open enough to slip through it with an annoyed huff of air, and then it slammed shut behind him.

She continued down the hall despite the invitation she desperately wanted to take. She reached the elevator and pressed the button to call it up to his floor. The whir of the car started immediately. The doors opened just a minute later, but Sutton was already on the way back to Jake’s front door.

She only knocked once before he was swinging the door open and stepping aside to welcome her in.

Jake walked straight into the kitchen where the microwave was already heating up the Thai food she’d brought for him. While she sat at the counter, Jake leaned up against the opposite side and asked, “What did you buy me Thai for?”

“It’s an apology.”

“The Thai food is an apology?”

“Yes.”

“For what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he had no idea what he was talking about. He knew damn well what it was for. He just wanted her to say it herself.

“For happy hour the other day.”

Jake hummed, seemingly satisfied by her answer, and grabbed the food from the beeping microwave before slipping out of the kitchen to the living room. Sutton stood there a moment longer, ignoring her overwhelming urge to find a pillow and scream right into it.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Her question was followed by a moment of silence until he reappeared in the doorway. He gave her an amused look before he stepped over to the utensil drawer to grab two forks.

“Sutton, when have I ever wanted you to leave me alone?” He paused. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No.”

“Great.” He turned and continued out of the room. “Come eat.”

Jake sat on the floor on one side of his coffee table, and Sutton sat across from him. He turned the television on to some rerun of Friends and watched absentmindedly while they ate, his quiet chuckles the only thing filling the air around them.

Sutton watched him, mostly because he wasn’t looking at her, and felt relief wash over her. The tension in her shoulders over almost everything going on in her life was momentarily cured just because she was near him. She knew the Thai food was only a momentary solution and that a more serious conversation would follow later, but she didn’t care. This moment was something she’d been wanting since she saw him on Friday.

After eating, Jake showered and left Sutton in the living room to pick a movie for them to watch. When he returned, she was sitting on the opposite end of the couch from where he had been. He settled down onto the cushion without a word, eyes grazing over the description of the movie she’d picked out.

“Feels weird to have you all the way over there,” he said softly.

She stood and readjusted herself on the cushion beside him. Her legs folded beneath her as she pulled her sweatshirt sleeves over her hands. He noticed the way she was curling into herself and sighed in defeat, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Sutton glanced over at him. “Or do you just feel that weird around me now?” She frowned. He looked away from her, muttering, “If I had known that you were going to be there with him, I would’ve gone somewhere else.”

“This is so fucked up,” she groaned into her hands. “That’s so unfair to you, Jake.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would have gone somewhere else? So that I could keep my friendship with you private from my relationship? Who does that?” she rambled. “Christ. Why do you deal with this? I’m such a shitty friend.”

“You’re not shitty, Sutt.”

“Yes! I am!” she exclaimed. “I should’ve just told Garrett that we met, but I didn’t because I knew he’d be pissy and I didn’t want to deal with it. Now, look! I’ve just made the situation worse because I hurt you and dug myself into a hole even deeper than it already was.”

“Why would you even think he’d be mad?”

“There’s a reason I’m only friends with girls, Jake.”

He stared at her long and hard after that admission feeling an anger boil in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Finally, he asked, “Does he not let you have friends who are guys?”

Sutton’s answered with a look.

“He—he doesn’t hit you, does he?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No. Never. I wouldn’t be with him if he was, like, abusive.” She almost couldn’t get the words out because she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She couldn’t even believe herself.

Jake huffed, his eyes rolling in frustration, as he said, “Okay, so he’s not physically abusive.”

“Jake.”

“No, I know,” he murmured. “You don’t want to talk about it. You never want to talk about it.”

He turned his attention back to the TV screen, jaw clenched so he could hold back all the words he wanted to say. He kept it to himself, knowing that if he spoke he’d be speaking out of anger and it would just make the situation worse.

So, he waited until he was composed. He waited until he was levelheaded. And level headed Jake cared more about keeping his friendship with Sutton intact than telling her that her boyfriend was a piece of shit.

“I hate being mad at you so much,” he said with a sigh. She pouted at him. “You’re like my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too,” she whispered. Jake stretched and pulled her into him for a hug. She relaxed in his arms, sighing softly into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I just wish you wouldn’t let him control your life the way you do.”

Sutton pulled away and sighed.

“Things are good between us right now,” she said. “I know you don’t really understand it. Kate and Mia don’t either, I know that. It’s just that Garrett has been good to me. I’m happy.”

“Okay.”

“And I know that our friendship started out a little flirtatiously,” she continued. “But I can’t let you get the wrong idea, Jake. I’m happy with Garrett and I don’t want to lose you because of it. We’re—”

“We’re just friends,” Jake jumped in. “That’s what we have been since you yelled at me for buying you a Valentines’ gift.”

“I just wanted to make sure that the lines weren’t blurred.”

“Not blurred,” he insisted. “You’re my friend, Sutt. That’s all.”

---

March 17th, 2019

Jake was on his way to Sutton’s apartment because Garrett did something fucked up. He was beginning to forget how to treat Sutton again and Jake found himself picking up the pieces more than once. It wasn’t his job. He knew that, and yet he was still showing up to check on her.

Boston was in full-on party mode for St. Patrick’s Day and though Jake had been invited to a teammate’s house that night, he was on his way to Sutton’s apartment with ice cream. She answered the door, eyes rolling when she saw Jake on the other side. She told the girls not to tell him what Garrett had done that day… Clearly, they didn’t listen.

“Why are you here?”

“That was not a nice hello,” he noted as he pushed past her. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons before entering the living room with Sutton hot on his heels. “What are you doing?”

“I was watching Project Runway,” she told him. She grabbed the remote and paused the television. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Is Project Runway your emotional support show?”

“Who says I need emotional support?”

“Your roommates.”

“God, they’re so nosy,” she muttered. “I told them not to call you.”

“I would’ve figured it out even if they didn’t,” he said. He sat down on the couch and opened the pint of ice cream he’d brought with him. “I knew something was wrong just from the way you were texting me.”

“How?”

“Just your general lack of interest in the conversation.”

“Sorry.”

“All good,” he said, waving her off. He lifted the pint up toward her. “That’s why I came with your favorite flavor!”

Sutton fell to the couch beside him and grabbed a spoon, heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. He pulled her legs over his lap and gazed over at her as she started digging into the Ben & Jerry’s in her hand.

“So, what happened?”

“Today’s our anniversary,” she explained. She handed him the pint after placing the spoon in her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as the flavor exploded in her mouth. Jake huffed, scooping out a spoonful for himself.

“Why isn’t he celebrating with you?”

“He had a St. Patrick’s party at his office,” she answered. “He’s up for a huge promotion at work, again, so he’s sucking up.”

“He couldn’t bring a plus-one?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Sutton might’ve asked Garrett at the beginning of their relationship, but she would never ask him to demand a plus-one now. And there was a very good reason for this. She was sure that if he’d dragged her along, she would find out something that she didn’t want to know. Something along the lines of him cheating on her.

All the signs were there, but she didn’t want to believe it. Or confront him about it.

And she certainly didn’t want to tell Jake.

“That’s so unfair to you,” he grumbled, passing the ice cream back to her. “You should say something to him. I thought things were going well for a little bit.”

“Yeah, well,” she said dismissively. “This is how things are between us.”

“Isn’t it exhausting, Sutton?”

“A little bit.”

“You deserve better than exhausting.”

When Kate and Mia got home later that night, they found the two of them wrapped up in each other and a message on the television asking if they were still watching their show. The sound of the door slamming shut startled the two awake and, under the watchful eyes of her roommates, Sutton scrambled off him.

“Hi, sleepy heads.”

“What time is it?” Jake grumbled, reaching out for his phone. He read the time, dropping his head against the pillow in frustration. Sutton left the room in search of sweatshirt and Jake found himself cornered by the other two girls. “I have to go.”

He stood, running his hands through his hair to contain the locks that were sticking up from the pillow. The roommates watched him with amused smiles.

“That was sweet,” Kate said. Mia nodded in agreement, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Friends,” he said. A sigh of disappointment fell from Kate’s lips. “That’s what she wants. That’s what I’m giving her. Don’t complicate it.”

“You two are so full of shit,” Mia grumbled as she marched out of the living room.

When Sutton returned, she looked ready for bed. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her sweatshirt hung loose over her much smaller body. Kate was in the kitchen, out of sight, so Sutton’s guard fell for a moment. She walked over to Jake and wrapped her arms around his waist to cuddle against his chest again.

“Talk to Garrett, would you?”

She looked up at him, almost pleading him to drop the subject, but caught the look in his eye and knew he was serious.

“Okay, I will.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he said. “And he makes you happy, right?”

---

March 26th, 2019

Charlie was disappointed in Jake. There he stood, in Charlie’s kitchen, with his hip cocked against the counter and his phone in his hand. It had been two months since he met this girl and he was still pining after her, even though she had a boyfriend. It was pathetic.

“Sutton?”

Jake hummed at him in response. Charlie rolled his eyes and ripped the phone from his hands like a middle school bully. He glanced down at the screen, eyes catching her name and a horrible grey text to blue text ratio.

“Dude, are you triple texting a girl with a boyfriend?”

He shoved the phone back to Jake who then placed it in his back pocket with a scowl.

“I’m worried about you.”

“We’re friends.”

“You got friendzoned by a girl you tried to hit on at a club,” Charlie pointed out. “Where did you go wrong?”

“I talked to her.”

“Is she coming tonight?” he asked, deciding to use mercy rules on his love-struck friend.

“Yep,” Jake answered, avoiding eye contact with Charlie. It didn’t go unnoticed by McAvoy and he was waiting for Jake to drop whatever bomb was coming. “I think she might be bringing her boyfriend.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” Jake said. “I told her she could bring him if she wanted to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She wanted to be here to celebrate us clinching a playoff spot. And I really wanted to see her, but she also had dinner plans with him. So, I told her to bring him with her after dinner.”

“I don’t want that prick in my apartment.”

Although Charlie thought Jake’s crush was ridiculous, he started to become a little protective of her over the last two months. He was always hearing all the crazy stories about her boyfriend and how shitty he was to her. It made Charlie itch.

He’d been around Sutton a few times since he saw her at happy hour, mostly at Jake’s apartment and in passing. She spent some time there on the weekdays, when Charlie assumed Garrett was at work. She was always making sweets for Jake (he claimed it was because she was stressed, though Charlie thought it was something more than that). When she noticed that Charlie would steal half of them each time, she started leaving him a bag of goodies too.

Other than those few occurrences, Jake was mostly talking his ear off about the times they could grab lunch or drinks. And, though he was still completely head-over-heels for her, the relationship between the two of them seemed to shift to a more platonic type. Forget the constant flirting and you just had two best friends.

“I don’t want him here either,” Jake grumbled. “But I want her, so we’ll just have to deal.”

Truth be told, Jake had gotten better at just being her friend. She stopped telling him all the shitty stuff that Garrett did to her. Instead, they talked about work and the things they would do when they finally got time off. Even Kate and Mia stopped telling him when Sutton and Garrett fought.

It was a step in the right direction, but he still knew things weren’t going right. He could tell by the way she filled his counter with baked goods and picked out the sappy rom coms on movie nights. Both were becoming a daily occurrence, but Jake kept his mouth shut.

He kept checking his phone for a sign of life from Sutton. Dinner with Garrett was at 6:30 p.m. 10:30 p.m. came around and his phone was still dry.

He hated himself for being so hung up on it because she was out with her boyfriend! Maybe they were having a great time, maybe for once in their relationship Garrett was doing the right thing and she was happy, maybe they’d gone back to his place… Jake shook off the traitorous thought.

He spent the night bouncing from group to group until Charlie pulled him into a conversation with some of his girlfriend’s friends. It was obvious, from the look in Charlie’s eyes, that this was a set up in progress. And, for the first time in a long time, Jake let it happen.

He talked to the girl in front of him, a small brunette with big brown eyes, for what seemed like hours. And not in a good way. He wondered if maybe she was being so boring to get him to kiss her, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to kiss her because he didn’t want to kiss anyone but Sutton.

Jake sighed, lifting his hand to the girls forearm to say, “It was really nice to meet you, but I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

She looked at him like he punched her in the gut.

When he got to the bathroom, he peed and then stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit too long. He wasn’t even drunk. He just needed to have a moment with himself. Finally, when he felt centered, he leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on his face before slipping out to the hallway once more.

“Jake!”

The sound of Sutton’s voice echoed off the walls of the hallway and set him off kilter once again. She bounded forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, effectively turning him to putty in her hands.

“Hi,” she greeted. She hung on him a little more than she usually did. Jake gazed down at her, thinking she looked a little bit like an angel with her hair pinned back like that.

His lips turned up into a small smile as he pressed a kiss against her forehead and murmured, “Hey.”

Mia turned down the hallway at that moment and let out a large exhale.

“Oh, good,” she huffed out. “She found you.”

Kate bumped into Mia from behind, apparently also in search of the sweet girl in his arms.

“She found him!”

“I found him!” Sutton exclaimed, clapping her hands over Jake’s cheeks as she looked up at him.

“You found me,” he responded with a soft laugh. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then glanced up at her roommates over her shoulder with a concerned look.

Kate came forward, wrapping her arms around Sutton’s waist to pull her from Jake.

“Come to the bathroom with me?”

“Sure, lovebug!” Sutton exclaimed. She turned back to look at Jake and planted a kiss right on his lips so quickly that he didn’t even get a chance to close his eyes, pucker his lips, or savor the moment. With a shocked gasp, Kate pulled Sutton away to the bathroom down the hall.

Jake’s eyes widened when he looked back at Mia.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, reaching up to brush his fingers along the tingling on his lip.

“She thinks Garrett is cheating on her.”

“Weren’t they supposed to be at dinner tonight?”

“He didn’t show, so she checked his location,” Mia explained. “He’s at a coworker’s house. Apparently, it’s been happening for a while and she didn’t care to tell us until tonight.”

Jake couldn’t decide what he was feeling. He was simultaneously pissed off at Garrett for being a dickhead, and Sutton for kissing him in that moment, and himself for feeling butterflies.

“She ended up eating dinner at the bar of the restaurant by herself and came back to our place bombed,” Mia continued. “We tried to get her in bed, but she insisted on seeing you. So, here we are.”

“She can’t stay.”

“We know that,” she said. “But she won’t leave with just us.”

The two of them exchanged a knowing look before the door down the hall swung open and Sutton stepped out, pulling Kate along with her. Jake stuffed down his frustration towards her and walked over with a smile to pick her up in a hug. She giggled and pressed her forehead against his.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

“I just got here!”

“Yeah, but I’d much rather be at your place right now.”

Sutton pouted. Jake pouted back. And then she was smiling again.

Charlie stopped Jake before he slipped out the door behind the girls. His fingers curled into his teammate’s bicep way harder than necessary. Jake winced beneath his grasp.

“You need to sort this Sutton situation out,” he spoke. “I saw her plant one on you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“You are going to let this girl rip your heart out if you don’t set some boundaries,” Charlie barked. “I know you love her and I know deep down she’s not a shitty person, but I think she needs to figure her shit out on her own. You need to stop trying to fix everything for her.”

The ride back to Sutton’s apartment was silent. Charlie’s words echoed in his head as he slipped into the back of the car with Sutton right behind. She kicked her legs up over his lap and snuggled into his chest. Knowing nothing would get solved with her this drunk, he sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into him.

He couldn’t believe she just kissed him like that, especially because she thought Garrett might’ve been doing the same thing across the city. It felt like he was a pawn in her little game, and he hated that because Sutton was better than that. At least he thought so.

Soft snores fell from her lips moments after they pulled away from the apartment building. Without thinking, he began to massage the top of her head. Kate watched with a fond smile on her face.

Jake carried her up to the apartment, stirring her from sleep only as he placed her on her bed.

“Jake,” she murmured. He knelt beside her and started to unclasp the heels she was wearing.

“Sutton.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed, picking up the shoes to place them by her closet door.

“Come to the bathroom,” he urged, extending his hand to her. “We’ll get that make up off. You can brush your teeth.” He turned away from her once she was standing and smirked. “Maybe even throw up if you feel so inclined.”

Sutton hit him lightly on the back, a giggle falling from his lips at the teasing.

Jake rummaged through the cabinets in search of her make up wipes while she sat atop the counter and brushed her teeth. After rinsing, she watched him with tired eyes as he moved to stand between her legs.

He cupped the back of her neck to hold her head steady while he removed her makeup and tried not to think about the way that she was looking at him, or how she melted into his touch the moment he held her. Her eyes fluttered shut for him to get off her eye makeup. When they opened again, their eyes met in a steady, loving gaze.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Sutton,” he murmured. He stepped back and opened the bathroom door once more to usher her out. She did as she was told and retreated to her room to crawl into bed. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water and pain killers. He placed them on her bedside table.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Jake sat down beside her and she reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. He leaned against her palm as her thumb stroked his cheekbone.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he responded. Her eyes began to well up. “You’re working yourself up. Don’t do that. We’ll be fine, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled. Jake placed a kiss against her forehead before turning to leave. He stopped at the door and looked back at her as she settled beneath the comforter and snuggled the pillow beneath her head.

“Call me when you get up.”

Sutton didn’t call by 10 a.m. the next morning, so Jake swung by to check on her. Mia let him in and informed him that she still wasn’t awake. He walked down the hall anyway, stopping just beyond the threshold of her door before pushing it open to find her sprawled out with her face mushed into the pillow. He took a few silent steps towards her bed and sat at the edge of it before lightly shaking her awake.

She woke with a start, the touch of Jake’s hand against her ankle shocking her enough to sit up right.

“Ouch,” she grumbled, squinting her eyes at the light filtering in from the window as she brought a hand to her head to stop the throbbing. Jake sprung up to shut the blinds. “Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be awake already,” he said, standing in front of the remaining rays of light coming through the window. “Get up. Let’s get breakfast.”

Jake was beyond anxious as they walked to her local diner. He wondered if she could tell that he was off or if she even remembered what happened. The way that she was talking, so nonchalant and unbothered, gave him the impression that she had no clue what damage she’d done last night.

“I honestly don’t remember getting to Charlie’s last night,” she admitted as they sat in a booth beside the window. “I remember seeing you in bits and pieces.”

“Really? Do you remember that I put you to bed?”

“Oh, Jake.” She dropped her head into her palms as she shook her head in disappointment at herself. He tried to hide the frown on his lips by turning his attention to the coffee in front of him. He ripped open a sugar packet and dumped it into the mug as Sutton grumbled about how sorry she was.

She continued talking, but Jake was finding it hard to listen. How could she act like nothing was wrong when it felt like the weight of his whole world was crushing him?

“When are you gonna tell me about your dinner with Garrett?” he blurted out as he finally met her eyes again. Her mouth snapped shut and realization set in that he wasn’t the happy-go-lucky Jake she thought she was grabbing breakfast with. He was not happy.

“He didn’t show up. He had something work related to take care of.”

“At his coworker’s house?”

“How do—”

“Mia filled me in when you showed up at Charlie’s,” he answered. “You were already plastered when you got to the party.” He paused. “Why didn’t you call me when he didn’t show?”

“Because it’s not your job to pick up the pieces every time he fucks up.”

“Then who will? Yourself? Because you did a pretty shitty job of it last night,” he spat. Sutton sat back against the vinyl seat behind her, shocked at his outburst. He paused, inhaling deeply before dropping the bomb. “You kissed me. Do you remember that, Sutton?”

Her jaw dropped and a hand came up to clasp over her mouth in shock as she mumbled out an apology that Jake didn’t want to hear.

“I like you, Sutton. I like being around you and talking to you. But, you drew a line months ago… A line that I’ve stopped trying to cross. And then you just kissed me, like there’d be no consequences.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But you did. And this morning you still woke up as his girlfriend, and you will tomorrow morning too. So, all I’m asking is that you figure your shit out with him and you don’t drag me into it. You can’t just kiss me because you think he also might be kissing someone else. That’s not fair. You wanted friends, so I gave you friends.”

As if by some divine intervention, their meals came at that moment and the conversation was dropped immediately. When they reached the front door of Sutton’s apartment, Jake didn’t try to come in like he usually did on hungover Sunday mornings. Instead, he stopped at the door.

“Sutton, I’m saying this to you as your friend and nothing more,” he started. “I can’t be around you until you figure your shit out. I’m tired of being your second choice. You have to figure out your worth and I can’t hold your hand until you get there. It’s driving me crazy.”

She stared up at him, eyes welling up with tears, and realized that the best thing in her life was about to walk away. A rogue tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly hoping that he wouldn’t notice. He did, though, he always did.

He pulled her into his arms, engulfing her in an embrace despite the conversation at hand. She stayed still for a moment, rigid even, until she heard Jake let out a shuddering breath into the crook of her neck. Only then did she reciprocate the hug, arms wrapping around his neck like he was her anchor.

---

May 17th, 2019

Sutton didn’t know what she expected to see when she walked into the club, but it definitely wasn’t Jake dancing on a table in the VIP section. She watched as Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to solid ground, unable to peel her eyes off the boy who’d become a stranger.

“Did you see him?” she asked Mia.

“I don’t think there’s a single person at this club that didn’t.”

When they reached a table, she glanced back in his direction, but the crowd had grown so thick that she couldn’t find him. Kate, who’d already made a beeline for the bar, found them moments later with drinks in hand. She handed one to each of the girls. She took one glance at Sutton and asked, “What’s the face for?”

“In true Sutton Beckett fashion, Jake was the first thing she saw when we walked in here.”

“Jake’s here?”

“Why do you think we’re here, Kate?” Mia asked. Sutton looked at her with a slight panic to her expression. Mia raised her eyebrows at her with a smirk. “Yeah, I know all your tricks.”

“He posted it on his Instagram story, okay?”

Kate dropped her face into her palms, grumbling, “Why won’t you just call him like a normal person?”

“I’m planning to,” she said defensively. Mia hummed in disagreement. “What? I will! Eventually. Like at the end of the season probably.” The girls groaned at that answer. “I don’t even know if he wants to talk to me. He said he didn’t wanna be around until I figured my shit out.”

“Yeah, and you broke up with Garrett two months ago!” Kate exclaimed while Mia grunted, “You like sabotaging yourself, don’t you?”

“You both suck.”

After Jake left that morning, Sutton felt like she cried forever. The door shut behind him and she sank down to the floor and sobbed. Mia and Kate came to her rescue immediately. They listened to her when she wanted to talk about it and, finally, helped her cleanse the apartment of all traces of Garrett. Mia even went as far as purchasing sage to burn. They packed his things into a box and placed it on the floor beside the door with plans to drop it off to him the next day.

When Sutton called him to end it and let him know she was dropping his shit off, he didn’t pick up. It continued for another two days before Kate and Mia were tugging her out to the streets in pursuit of his office building. She ultimately found him flirting with the receptionist in his office and dropped the box to the floor. She kicked it over to him, sending the contents flying.

“Go fuck yourself, Garrett.”

“I never liked you,” Mia echoed. Sutton marched toward the exit, ignoring the protests coming from her scumbag ex’s mouth. She grabbed the girls’ arms and dragged them out with her. “Fuck you, Garrett!”

Sutton didn’t cry over Garrett, but she did cry over Jake. She would be crazy not to.

As she drained her first drink of the night, Sutton couldn’t help but search the bar for Jake and his teammates. She didn’t want to be surprised by him because, truthfully, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him.

“I honestly don’t know why we even came here,” she muttered, chewing on one of the ice cubes from her cup. “We should leave.”

“We’re not leaving,” Mia barked. “We came here for a reason, whether you think so or not, and you’re going to get what you came for.”

Sutton glared at her, Mia glared back, and Kate watched in amusement until Sutton finally gave in. She grabbed her drink and knocked it back in one swift movement before standing.

“I’m going to get another.”

The girls cheered as she stepped away from them and began to nudge her way through the crowd. She found a break in congestion a few steps ahead. But, just as she was about to slip in, a solid body stepped in front of her. She was about to apologize when she glanced up to see Charlie McAvoy.

His eyes blew wide when he saw her. He was convinced that he was seeing things, but he knew there was no way he was drunk enough for that. He reached out, setting a hand tentatively against her forearm and she waited patiently for him to snap back to reality.

“Does Jake know you’re here?” he asked, eyes searching the area around them frantically. She shook her head, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. He looked back at her. “Why haven’t you called?” Before she could answer, he frowned. “You haven’t broken up with that asshole.”

“I did.”

“Then, why haven’t you called him?”

“We didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms,” she said. Charlie rolled his eyes, shoving Sutton lightly towards the bar. She ordered, he ordered, and he scolded her when she tried to pay for her own drink. Then, he tugged her off towards the VIP section.

Jake saw Charlie first and flung himself out of the booth to swipe his new drink from his hands. And then he saw Sutton over his shoulder and his face dropped. Charlie slipped away, leaving the two face-to-face. He squinted at her, like he was trying to process the image in front of him.

“When did you break up with him?”

“A few days after we argued,” she said. He stilled, mind racing as he tried to figure out the timeline.

“Sutton, you’ve been single for two months and you haven’t called?”

“I was scared.”

“Would you have even called me if you hadn’t seen me tonight? Or would I still be wondering?”

“Of course not,” she defended herself. “I was going to tell you at the end of the season.”

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then his features softened and he wrapped his arms around her. He ducked so that his head was in the crook of your neck. She could feel the soft sigh that left his lips against her skin.

“I miss you.”

Sutton relaxed against him, relieved that he didn’t seem angry at her in the moment. They stood there for a moment, ignoring the hooting and hollering from his teammates at the booth. When he pulled away, he gazed down at her adoringly. “You look beautiful.”

“You look happy,” she said. She ran her fingers through his hair, playing into his sweetness despite her better judgement.

“Are you happy?” he asked, face suddenly serious. She nodded, corners of her lips turning up at his question. His eyes searched her face. “I’m proud of you.”

Before either of them could say anything more, Charlie’s girlfriend appeared with a tray of shots and they were swept up into a crowd of his teammates and their plus-ones, all reaching for shots for themselves.

Sutton stepped backwards to make space and ended up stumbling over Jake’s feet, her back bumping into his chest. Instead of stepping away, drunk Jake dropped a hand to her hip to steady her. He was tingly all over, liquor coursing through him, and when he felt her relax into his touch, he allowed himself to wrap his arm around her stomach to hold her instead. She leaned into him happily.

Someone called out a toast and everyone tossed their shots back with a mixture of grunts and exclamations at the taste. The group dispersed after and, though Jake dropped his arm from around her, he placed his hand in hers moments later to search the bar for Kate and Mia.

The look at their faces when they saw Sutton and Jake hand in hand was comical. They were practically bursting at the seams with excitement and hopped out of the booth to embrace the two in a hug.

“We missed you!” Mia all but yelled in Jake’s face. His drunken giggles got the best of him then, squeezing her a little tighter in response.

Unlike the first time they danced together at a club, Jake wasted no time in grinding up against her. His arms wrapped around her waist and her fingers followed, trailing along his arms until she could curl her fingers between his.

When she turned to face him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His fingers danced along the skin of her back and he smiled when he noticed the goosebumps on her arms. He leaned in just enough to speak lowly into her ear, lips just inches away. “Sleep over tonight.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jake,” she said. When he pouted, she reached up and thumbed his bottom lip with a smirk. “You’re too drunk for a sleepover, I think, but I’ll get you home like you did for me.”

“Like the night you kissed me?” he asked with a teasing smile. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He chuckled softly, tilting his head to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear, “I’m ready to go when you are.”

During the fifteen-minute cab drive to Jake’s apartment, he just seemed to just get drunker. He was giggly, chatty, and clingy. His fingers danced along Sutton’s calves, which he’d pulled onto his lap the minute they pulled away from the club. She watched him engage their driver in mindless conversation, smiling softly to herself every time he said something stupid and giggled at himself.

When they pulled up to his building, Jake paid and left the guy behind the wheel a fat tip. Then, he was pulling Sutton out of the car and into the lobby. He wrapped his arms around Sutton’s shoulders and pulled her against his chest as they waited for the elevator.

The doors opened with a ding and Sutton slipped to the corner while Jake pressed the button to his floor. He swayed uneasily on his feet as the elevator jolted upwards. She reached out to steady him, just a soft touch of her hand against his bicep. He turned with a smile.

“Sutton, Sutton, Sutton.”

“What?”

He stepped forward, boxing her into the corner of the elevator. She gazed up at him, finding it hard to breathe as he got closer. He rested his hands against the rail on either side of him and smiled.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he whispered. She leaned away from him slightly, a frown developing as she did so. And though she was hesitant, her heart was hammering in her chest, begging her to attach her lips to his.

“You’re drunk.”

“Sure, but what does that matter?”

“We can’t just do this whenever one of us can’t handle our liquor,” she murmured. His face dropped. “It makes it difficult to tell if we mean it.”

“Trust me, I mean it,” he told her. “I want to kiss you when we’re sober as fuck eating leftovers on your kitchen floor; I want to kiss you when I’m hammered and can barely keep my hands off you.”

The elevator doors opened and Sutton, desperate to move on from this conversation, pushed him out of the car and down the hall.

The moment they entered the apartment, he went to his room to change and returned with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for her. He watched her happily from his perch on the counter as she walked about the kitchen in his clothes. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her, touch her.

“Drink this,” she said, handing a glass of water over to him. She leaned up against the counter across form him. “You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”

“That’s why you should stay over,” he said. “You can nurse me back to health tomorrow morning.”

“Not gonna happen, DeBrusk.”

“Was worth a try,” he slurred. Sutton laughed at the rise and fall of his shoulders as he shrugged before chugging the water from his cup. After dropping the cup in the sink, he turned back and shook his head at her in amusement.

“What?”

“I’ve just missed you,” he told her. He took a few steps toward her before dropping his hands to counter on either side of her and leaned in. He was intoxicating. The smile on his face made her weak in the knees, but she couldn’t just act like there hadn’t been a fight and two months of silence between them.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said. “We should really talk when you’re sober.”

“Let’s just talk now.”

“I’m not going to count this as a conversation.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if you don’t remember?”

Jake’s eyes studied her face and he realized the seriousness of her question. He leaned away then and sighed out, “Okay.”

“Let’s get you to bed, drunkie,” she murmured. She slipped past him, fingers catching on his wrist to tug him along. They stopped in the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and he wouldn’t stop glancing at her the entire way through the rest of his nightly routine as if he was worried she might disappear into thin air.

When they got back into his room, he picked her up and dropped her onto his bed.

“Jake!”

“Just stay for a little bit longer,” he whined. She rolled her eyes, laughter falling easily from her lips as he rolled off her to change into pajamas. He boldly dropped his pants and glanced over his shoulder just to see if she was looking, chuckling to himself when he saw her with her hands over her eyes.

He dropped onto the bed and hovered over her, grin on his face.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, slur in his voice still evident. She raised her eyebrows and pressed her hands against his chest to create some distance between them. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Jake,” she whispered. “You’re hammered!”

“Yeah, and I still want to be your boyfriend when I’m sober.”

“I told you I didn’t want to have this conversation right now,” she groaned. He dropped to the side of her and propped himself up on his elbow. “If you really mean it, I need you to tell me when you’re not drunk.”

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

---

June 12th, 2019

They didn’t talk to anytime soon, and Sutton kept trying to convince herself that it was because he was in the Stanley Cup finals so he was busy, not because he regretted everything he said when he was drunk. But, as time went on, she felt more and more defeated. She waited patiently, though, hoping that she’d get some sort of closure at the end of the season.

She watched the entire series against the St. Louis Blues at the edge of her seat. Game seven had ripped her heart out, like many others in the city, but her first thought went to Jake. She almost felt sick to her stomach thinking about it.

Vice versa, the first person Jake thought about when he left the ice was Sutton. He thought about her through each post-game interview and his post-game routine, and as soon as he was in the parking garage he was texting her.

Did you watch?

He dropped his forehead against the wheel and waited for a response. He wasn’t even positive there’d be one after the shit he pulled at the bar and the silence that followed.

There’s a key under my welcome mat

He started the car immediately and drove in complete silence to Sutton’s apartment. He rushed upstairs, eager to fall into her bed. When he lifted the welcome mat, he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the key and opened the door. He placed his bag down and kicked off his shoes before locking up behind him and heading off to her room.

When he opened the door, the light from the hallway filtered in and stirred her awake. She leaned up on her elbow and murmured, “I pulled out a toothbrush for you and there are sweats and a t-shirt you can wear at the end of the bed.”

He smiled softly, grabbing the clothes from the bed and turning to go brush his teeth. When he returned, she was leaning up against the headboard waiting for him.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Jake shuffled up towards the headboard of her bed just enough to drop his head to her stomach. A shuddering breath fell from his parted lips as he shook his head that indicated no, he was not okay. She curled her fingers into his hair and leaned down to place a kiss against the top of his head. His arms wrapped around her and the weight of the world disappeared, if only for a second. “I’m proud of you.”

When Sutton woke up the next morning, Jake was gone and her stomach dropped. She moved slowly out of bed and then, as panic set in, she quickened her steps through the apartment. The sound of the kitchen cabinets opening and closing greeted her. And when she reached the kitchen so did Jake’s tired smile.

“Good morning,” he said. She watched his cheeks turn pink and felt hers do the same. He motioned to the pan on the stove. “I started making breakfast.”

“I see that.”

“Coffee?”

“I’ll make it,” she offered, walking past Jake to the coffee maker on the other end of the counter. She didn’t catch Jake watching, didn’t feel his eyes wander along her body. She almost caught him when she turned to ask how he took his coffee, but he was quick to divert his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call after the night at the club,” he said suddenly. “Or text.”

Sutton continued for him, feeling the anger she’d built up over the past few weeks begin to boil over. “Or Snapchat. Or really do anything to assure me that things were okay between us.”

Jake frowned, turning his attention back to the eggs on the stovetop. They continued putting breakfast together in silence and reconvened at the kitchen table when the coffee was done and the eggs and toast were plated.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to tell me that you weren’t with Garrett anymore,” Jake argued. She sighed, fork clattering to her plate as she leaned back in her seat.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk until I had all my shit together!”

“And do you not?”

“I have no idea!” she exclaimed. “I wanted to call you the moment that I broke up with him. It was my first thought, but then I stopped myself because I thought of how unfair that would be to myself.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been just Sutton in three years, Jake,” she said. “I’ve been Garrett’s doting girlfriend for three years. Everything I did, I did with him in mind.” She paused. “Then you come along, and suddenly I’m thinking about you, too. For once, I want to just think about myself.”

She continued, “I don’t even know myself. I feel like I’m rediscovering these parts of me that I haven’t thought about in years. I’ve been doing things to make me happy and I’ve been applying to new jobs because I want something more for myself and I finally feel motivated to fight for it. I feel different.”

He felt warm all over, buzzing from the inside out. He didn’t realize how much it would mean to him to hear her say that she was finally fighting for herself. Hearing her explain how she was feeling overwhelmed him with a sense of pride, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile at her.

“I guess that’s a good enough reason not to call,” Jake resigned.

“Why haven’t you called?”

“Because I was scared of what I might find out,” he answered. “That you were still with him.” He paused and then shook his head. “And I didn’t call after the club because I couldn’t remember any of the things I said and I was worried that I did something stupid.”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, her fears coming true.

“Not much.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.”

He was lying. He remembered every moment of that night spent with her. The image of her in his t-shirt swallowing her whole, the look on her face when he told her how he felt, the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks. How could he forget it?

Mia entered the room then, cutting the conversation off before it could go anywhere else.

“Ooo! You made bacon!” she exclaimed, snatching a strip from the plate at the center of the table. Her eyes cut from Sutton’s face to Jake’s and she smiled at the sight. “Happy to have you back, Jake.”

---

June 15th, 2019

Three days after the game seven loss, Jake was still feeling the heartbreak of it. He wondered if there would be a day that he didn’t. He spent a lot of time in his apartment, ordering Postmates for food to be dropped at his door so he didn’t have to see anyone he didn’t want to. The only time he’d left was for locker clean-out.

He saw Sutton every day and, though the visits were welcomed, he realized as they sat on the couch and watched shit reality shows that there was still a lot to be said.

He wanted to tell her how he felt about her again, but he kept his mouth shut. Friendship with Sutton was something he’d gotten used to, and he could continue living like this for now. Besides, he’d be leaving Boston soon and he didn’t want to start something that he couldn’t commit all his time to. She deserved to be the center of his world.

On the morning of the fifteenth, Sutton picked him up to drive him to the airport feeling like shit. It had been weeks since they saw each other at the bar, which meant weeks since he admitted his feelings and nothing had been said about it. He said he didn’t remember much, but she wondered if he really did and was just regretting what had been said.

Conversation on the way to the airport was mundane. He talked about all the things he was excited to do at home, like seeing his family and friends, and asked about what she’d do while he was gone, and she sighed heavily before answering, “Work.”

After she parked the car at the curb of the terminal, she reached over for the handle of the door, but Jake grabbed her other wrist to get her attention.

“I lied to you,” he blurted out. “I remember everything I said to you after the club. I wasn’t going to say anything because I love that you’re just being Sutton right now. But, I also don’t want to leave Boston without telling you how I feel.”

“Fuck you!” she exclaimed after releasing long sigh. He started laughing and stepped out of the car. She scrambled after him towards the trunk to grab his things. He was grinning ear-to-ear. “I thought you didn’t remember or you regretted it!”

“You’re crazy to think I’d ever regret you,” he said, fingers coming up to brush her cheekbone. Sutton blushed hard. “Seriously.”

“Your timing is shit,” she said. Jake curled his arm around her shoulders and embraced her. “Why would you admit your feelings and then fly off to Canada? That’s bullshit.”

“I don’t want you revolving your life around us right now,” he said. He pulled back and pressed his lips to her forehead, even though he desperately wanted to kiss her lips. Then, he pulled away completely. “You have three months to just be you, but then I’m coming back for you.”

---

September 1st, 2019

Jake and Sutton were both shaking like leafs as they made their way to each other on the morning of September 1st, him on the plane, her in her car on the way to pick him up. The summer was full of fresh starts. For Sutton, she ended up in a new position with a corner office at work. Jake had the summer to reset, spend time with his family, and relax.

Together, it was a fresh start to their relationship and more time to get to know each other.

Although they weren’t officially together, they talked on the phone at least once a week, but usually more. They flirted with the idea of the future through conversations about dates they’d go on when he got back and movies they needed to watch together. It felt like all the pieces of the puzzle were finally together, all Jake needed to do was come back to Boston.

And he was finally home.

Sutton stood beside her car as she waited for him to emerge from baggage claim. Her hands were shaking and her stomach felt sick, but the moment she saw him, it all went away. She sprinted over and threw herself into his open arms, giggling as his bags hit the pavement.

He wrapped his arms around her so tightly he thought she might snap in half. Then, she looked up at him, wide smile on her face, and all he could ask was, “Can I please kiss you like I’ve been wanted to all summer?”

“I might die if you don’t.”

And then the world fell away and it was just Jake and Sutton, finally kissing on purpose.

“Where are we going?”

“Stop asking questions!”

Sutton knew exactly where he was taking her, but she was hoping the question would make him rethink it. The door just before the stairs had ROOF ACCESS stamped across it.

“Won’t we get into trouble?”

Jake paused then, turning to answer, “Of course not. I slipped the security guards $50 to let us up here.”

Sutton laughed loudly at that and allowed him to continue tugging her along.

After picking him up at the airport, they spent the day re-exploring Boston. They walked in parks and talked on benches for hours on end, like they hadn’t spoken all summer, and then Sutton brought him to her office building to show off her new office. He kissed her in front of her desk and congratulated her for the hundredth time before whisking her off to dinner reservations he’d made a few weeks prior. By the time dinner ended, the two of them were drunk on each other, giggling and dancing down the streets to his apartment.

Jake pushed the door to the roof open and stepped out, tugging Sutton along with him towards the edge of the roof. She laced her fingers through his and followed happily. When he slowed to a stop, she halted beside him, resting her cheek against his arm. The city was alive beneath them, lights shining on them like a spotlight.

“I’ve always wanted to bring you up here,” he spoke, glancing down at her. She was already looking up at him, soft smile playing on her lips. “But I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring you up here if we were ‘just friends.’”

“We were never really just friends, huh?”

“Not at all,” he answered with a laugh. “You were delusional.”

That moment felt so poignant to Sutton, like it was the moment that was going to change everything. She turned to fold into his chest and his arms curled around her, filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Do you want this, Sutton?” he asked, voice just above a whisper. She looked up at him, eyes searching his face, falling to his lips as he spoke his next words. “Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything.”

---

October 18th, 2019

“He’s going to pass out when he sees you.”

“God, I hope not,” Sutton murmured, fingers still covering the small smile on her lips as she gazed at herself in the lingerie she was modeling for her roommates. Her eyes cut back to the two of them. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Not at all,” Mia said. Kate shook her head, eyes still taking in all the little bows and lace on the set. She sighed suddenly and grunted, “Now you’re making me want to buy lingerie. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Sutton snorted before turning back to her reflection to admire herself once more.

They’d officially been dating a little over a month and it was a dream. It was fun to get to know each other in a different, more intimate way and little by little all the walls were being broken down between them, not that there were too many to begin with.

Jake’s 23rd birthday was October 17th, but because he had a game, they couldn’t celebrate the way they’d been planning to. Fortunately, his next two days were free, so Sutton booked a stay at an Airbnb in Cape Cod.

She was all nerves and anxiety leading up to the trip, simply because of the mounting pressure that came with not having had sex with him yet. They’d spent the past month exploring each other with their hands and their mouths, but it was never taken any farther than that.

Only twice had they gotten close to it.

The first occurrence was about a week after the season started. He’d been away on a four-game road trip and by the time he got home, he was exhausted. Sutton was waiting for him when he got home the next afternoon and he collapsed into her arms on the couch until he was ready to cleanse himself of the remnants of loss and airplane germs.

“Come shower with me.”

“Jake,” she murmured hesitantly, threading her fingers through his hair.

“C’mon,” he whined through a pout. “I missed you.”

“Fine.”

She followed him to his room and popped her phone onto the charger while he stripped himself of his clothes. His hands found their way around her waist, sliding underneath her sweatshirt to pull it over her head. When Sutton turned to face him, he captured her lips with his and she moaned against his lips happily.

He shed her of her clothes as they kissed slowly, but as soon as she was standing naked in front of him, she pushed him towards the bathroom, too nervous for what could come next, unsure if she was even ready to go there.

Jake held her close beneath the warmth of the water, fingers traveling along her spine, into her hair, gripping her ass. Her hands were just the same, feeling his every muscle constrict beneath her touch, listening to him shudder when her hands traveled below his hips. He was hard against her lower abdomen,

“I’m not ready,” she blurted out. The second the words were out in the open she was clasping her hands over her mouth. Jake took a step back, his hands falling from her skin to his sides.

“Ready for what?”

“Sex.”

“Okay, that’s okay,” he murmured, placing another soft kiss against her lips. “I can wait.”

The second time was after a night spent with Charlie and his girlfriend, drinking wine and watching shitty movies. She was going to spend the night at Jake’s anyway, so when they got back to his apartment, they got ready for bed and cuddled up under the covers together—him in a pair of boxers, her in underwear and a t-shirt of his. She woke up in the middle of the night with Jake wrapped around her, his erection against her ass. As she pulled his arms tighter to her, he stirred and rutted his hips against her.

“Sleeping with you is so hard.”

“Why? Cause you’re always hard?” she asked with a laugh. He hummed affirmatively, pressing into her a bit more. She turned around and kissed him softly. His eyes fluttered open at the feather light touch of her lips, and then he was on her, kissing her while his hands gripped her ass. In seconds, he had her on top of him, straddling his lap.

“You’re so wet right now,” he murmured as she rubbed against his bulge. Sutton was thankful for the veil of darkness in his room because she was bright red and flustered. He gripped her hips and guided her hips. “C’mon, use me, baby.”

She began to grind against him as they made out and he kept her hips down, rutting up into her to help her towards orgasm. It didn’t take long, the friction against her clit had her breathing heavily into the crook of his neck in no time and as her orgasm washed over her, he helped her through it by continuing to guide her hips against him.

“Fuck,” she sighed, and he laughed gently, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he spoke. “That was hot.”

And that was the extent of it. But now, he was turning another year older and she wanted to give him a gift to remember.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted as soon as Sutton opened the apartment door. He swept her up into a hug and kissed her full on the mouth while Mia and Kate aww’d behind them. “Hey, ladies.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he responded before placing one more kiss on Sutton’s lips. They detached from each other long enough for Jake to grab Sutton’s overnight bag. “Are you ready to go? I’ve been itching to get out of this city with you.”

Jake led her to the car, hand-in-hand, chattering on about the game he played the night before and Sutton hung on his every word, like she always did. He loaded her things into the trunk beside his and slid into the driver’s seat, handing the aux over to her—the only person he ever let control the music in his car.

As soon as they pulled onto the highway, Sutton blurted, “I want to have sex with you.”

“Yeah? I want to have sex with you, too,” he responded, goofy smile playing at his lips. His eyes were still trained on the road, like she hadn’t just divulged this important information to him. She laughed softly and reached out to take his free hand.

“No, like tonight,” she said. He looked over at her with wide eyes. “Eyes on the road.”

“You can’t say something like that and expect me to pay attention to much else,” he grunted, though he was now grinning from ear-to-ear. He squeezed her hand lightly. “Are you serious? You want to?”

“Yes.”

“Birthday sex,” he murmured, chuckling at himself. She laughed with him and shoved his hand away playfully only for him to drop it to her thigh, a little higher than usual, and hit the gas.

Jake was a pest at dinner.

Even though they’d been seated at a table across from each other, he pulled his chair around to sit beside her. His hand rested against her thigh the entire time, fingers gripping every once in a while to get a rise out of her.

When asked if they wanted a dessert menu, Jake was quick to turn it down.

“No, I think we’re alright,” he answered. Sutton turned to protest, it was his birthday after all, and he’d probably get a free dessert, but he shook his head at her. “Thank you, though. Everything was delicious.”

“You don’t want dessert?” Sutton asked as soon as the waitress stepped away.

Jake smiled and leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “You’re my dessert, Sutt.”

The ride back to the Airbnb felt way too long and the anticipation of the night ahead had Jake buzzing from the moment they got into the car after dinner to the moment he was sitting in a chair in the living room, waiting for her.

“You can’t touch!” she called from behind the bedroom door. His eyes were locked on it, carefully watching the handle so he could prepare himself.

“Sutton, you’re evil.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise, baby. Come on.”

She pulled the door open and his eyes drank her in. Then, her robe fell to the floor and he released a shaky breath. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he braced his hands together to keep himself from touching her.

“Sutton, I don’t know how you expect me to keep myself from touching you when you’re wearing that.”

“Do you want your birthday gift or not?”

“I really fucking want my birthday gift.”

“Then, you’ll find a way to keep your hands to yourself.”

Jake leaned back against the chair with a frustrated sigh, eyes still glued to the lace clinging to her body. He swallowed thickly as his eyes trailed over her chest, landing on the little bow between her breasts before meeting her eyes again.

In the sweetest voice, he murmured, “You’re so pretty.”

A blush crept up her cheeks, smile betraying the seductive front she was trying to show, and she sighed, “How am I supposed to act sexy when you’re making me blush like this?”

“You’re always sexy,” he spoke, voice low again. “You don’t need to act.”

She walked over to him, shaking her head when he reached for her again, and straddled his lap, fingers threading through his hair as he gazed up at her. His hands hung limp on either side of him and his fingers twitched as she grinded against his bulge.

“This is so unfair,” he grunted. She kissed his neck, sucking a mark into it as she continued to rub against him. “Who knew you were such a tease?”

“Who knew you were so chatty?”

“Shut me up then,” he challenged with a cocky smirk. Sutton rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her lips from curling into a smirk as well. She sunk down to her knees, pushing his thighs open before fumbling with his belt and his eyes watched her hungrily. He lifted himself from the chair and let her pull them down, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Take your shirt off.”

He threw it off eagerly, tossing it over her shoulder to the other side of the room.

Sutton flattened her hands against his chest and ran her fingers over his muscles as they constricted beneath her touch. His breath was already unsteady. It was painful not being able to touch her when she looked so damn good. She kissed along his chest and down his abs to the waistband of his boxers. A breathless curse fell from his lips as she tugged them down.

In no time, she was working him with her hands and then her lips were wrapping around his length. He gathered her hair in his fist and gently pulled it back and out of her face, watching in awe, mouth ajar as she bobbed her head on his dick. She looked up at him sweetly, eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones as she watched him unravel. He moaned as she took him deeper, hitting the back of her throat.

His other hand flew to his own face and ran through his hair, gripping the roots as he felt his orgasm beginning to bloom in the pit of his stomach. Jake never lasted long when she was on her knees. Her mouth worked wonders for him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he muttered, grip on her hair getting tighter. His hips thrust up involuntarily and she gagged around his cock, but didn’t stop. He threw his head back with a groan as she deep throated him and then he finally came. She swallowed it, sucking him dry as he became a moaning mess beneath her. “Fuck, Sutton, fuck.”

She pulled her mouth off his cock with a pop and licked her lips as his gaze returned to her. He dropped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her up to him. The lace of her lingerie scratched against the bare skin of his chest and when she straddled him as they kissed, he could feel how wet she was underneath.

“You’re so wet, princess,” he whispered into her kiss. One hand slid along her thigh up to her pussy. He pushed the fabric to the side and slid his fingers along her folds. “I love it when you suck my dick, but I can’t wait to fuck you.” He inserted two fingers into her pussy and she moaned as he curled them against her g-spot. “You’re so wet, so ready for me. Do you want my cock, angel?”

Sutton nodded, a whimper falling from her lips as he pulled his fingers out of her. He stood, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could walk her into the bedroom. When he lowered her onto the bed carefully, he kissed along her skin from the valley of her breasts to her lips.

“Do you like your gift?”

“I love it,” he whispered against her throat. His fingers trailed along the lace covering her pussy. “You bought it for me? Just me?” She nodded, breath catching in her throat as he rubbed her through the fabric. “Happy birthday, JD.”

She giggled at his dorky expression and that little smile on his lips, but she shut up the moment he pushed the lingerie to the side. His fingers began to massage her folds again, coaxing sweet moans from her as he sunk the fingers into her heat and curled them once more.

“I never get tired of your moans,” he murmured. “And I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when I’m fucking you.” She swallowed thickly, his words so dirty compared to how he often joked with her. He noticed her reaction and smiled. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this, Sutton?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You’re gonna learn a lot of new things about me.”

Sutton giggled and he did just the same because nothing between the two of them could ever stay serious. They just liked each other too much to not be smiling, giggling messes at all times.

“As much as I like this lingerie,” he began, fingers dancing along the bows. “How do I take it off?”

Sutton sat up with a laugh and reached behind her to unclasp the bra. It fell away and she tossed it onto the floor. Jake hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of the panties and pulled them down, throwing them onto the floor as well. His hands were everywhere all at once, cupping her breasts, teasing her core.

He pushed her thighs apart and slotted himself between them as he began kissing her again, the head of his cock brushing against her clit as he leaned in. Her sharp intake of breath shattered the silence in the room.

“Jake, I want you,” she pleaded. He released an uneasy breath, cheeks flushed pink as he reached out to grab the condom from the nightstand and ripped the wrapper open with shaking hands. Sutton reached up and took it from him, asking, “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit, I think. It’s because I like you too much.”

“Too much?”

“It’s not a complaint,” he responded, capturing her lips in a kiss. He sucked in a breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as Sutton rolled the condom over his cock. “Fuck.”

She laid back against the pillows once it was on and Jake admired her body, laid out for him. His hands travelled up her sides, back to her breasts, along the skin of her neck and her cheeks. He nudged her thighs apart some more with his knees.

“Are you ready?” he asked. She nodded, accepting his kiss before he reached down and aligned himself with her entrance. One hand rested beside her head and his other wrapped around his cock as he pushed the head into her. She sighed as he entered her some more, finally releasing his member from his hand and caging her head in on both sides with his hands.

He shuddered as he filled her up, the feeling of her warmth all too consuming. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he bottomed out and she sighed out a moan, wrapping her legs around his waist to take him deeper.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, barely able to get the words out. He let out a shaky laugh and halted his movements to steady his breath. “Hold on. I need a minute.” Sutton furrowed her brows as he leaned back. He gazed down at her body, down at his body and the place they fit together. “If you told me back in March that this is where we’d be seven months later, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“No?”

“No, you’re my dream girl,” he spoke, leaning in to kiss her again. He pulled out slowly and then pushed back into her. As she sighed beneath him, he spoke against her lips, “You’re so far out of my league.”

“Jake,” she whispered, fingers carding through his hair. He glanced up at her again. “You’re perfect for me.”

Their next kiss was passionate and full of fire, and he began to thrust faster, pulling her leg higher on his waist to hit deeper. The sound of their moans mixing and their bodies together filled the room. He spoke praises to her about how beautiful she was, how good she felt. She kissed him until her lips were bruised.

His thrusts were slow and calculated and he tried to look her in the eye to see how she looked when she was filled with him. The view was beautiful with her lips plump and her eyes wide. She watched him intently, overwhelmed by this moment, overwhelmed that she was finally with him like they’d wanted to be for so long.

She rutted her hips up to get more friction from him and he dropped his hand to her clit, hoping to help her reach the peak before he had his second orgasm of the night. Her nails scratched his back as her toes began to curl.

“Please,” she moaned.

“What’s up, baby? What do you need?”

“Fuck me harder.”

Jake lifted her leg up to rest against his shoulder and dirty, loud moans filled the room as he fucked her. She looked so pretty beneath him, eyes squeezed shut as her back arched off the mattress. He coached her through it, talkative as always, and she shuddered beneath him as he reached the peak, pussy fluttering around his cock. Her chest heaved as he fucked her through the orgasm and, finally, he poured into the condom as he reached his own.

He didn’t pull out until he was soft, and even then, he hardly moved away from her, opting instead to just drop his weight against her in bed. Her fingers carded through his hair and he relaxed into her touch, leaving lazy kisses against her skin. Finally, he pulled himself off her and moved up the bed to rest his head beside hers on the pillow.

They stared at each other for a long time without saying a word.

Jake couldn’t believe his luck, couldn’t believe that this girl was his, finally. He threaded his fingers through her hair to see her face properly and sighed before leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her nose.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispered. “I’m so happy we’re together.”

“Me too.”

Sutton’s heart felt like it could explode from happiness. After all the times she’d been mistreated, all the bullshit she went through with Garrett, she was finally with someone who understood her, both inside and out. Jake looked at her like she put the stars in the sky and it made her melt.

“I think I could spend the rest of my life with you,” he spoke, voice cracking a bit with emotion as his eyes bore into hers. “I love you, Sutton.”

“Jake,” she sighed out, tears coming to her eyes. She reached up, swiping a thumb along his cheekbone and he tilted his head to press a kiss to her palm. “I love you, too.”

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