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#I was struggling a lot freshman year; and meeting these two really helped me step away from bad territory
kat-glen · 2 years
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Sad Nostalgia
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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Failed, Faked, Fallen - Harry Styles
a/n: this story was a pain in the ass, not gonna lie and i really thought i would just end up deleting the whole thing but I MADE IT TO THE END YAY so now please take the time to read bc it literally made me want to jump off a cliff lol
special thanks to @pastequeharry​ for putting up with me throught the writing process, she is the reason i didn’t just delete the whole thing haha
pairing: Fratboy!Harry x Reader (fake dating AU)
word count: 16.6k
masterlist
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Tonight has been in the making for ten years. Every fiber in your body is protesting against it, but you just can’t carry this massive secret around any longer. You need to tell your best friend that you are in love with him, have been since middle school when you first met him. It’s a scary thing to come clean about your feelings for someone, but you feel like it’s now or never.
Your friendship with Oliver has been always a little… blurry. You were just regular friends when he was dating someone, but whenever he was single, he seemed to seek comfort and intimacy with you. It always starts with him getting a little more touchy and cuddly with you, then comes the kissing and hugging, his hands wandering to places friends shouldn’t explore and you somehow always end up in a bed…  
Then it would immediately change once he got himself a girlfriend and you figured he has just been confused about his feelings for you. It has to be that, right? These past few weeks the situation was the same. He broke up with this girl he was seeing all summer before you all came back to school and you think this is the perfect time to finally talk about what’s really going on between the two of you.
Your roommate, Sandra has helped you with your makeup for tonight���s frat party and now you are deciding on the dress. You want to look your best so when Oliver confesses his love for you tonight, you’ll look as dreamy and pretty as you always dreamed about.
“The black one is fucking mint,” Sandra points at the black bodycon dress lying on your bed. “I can give you my red leather jacket,” she offers, finishing up putting her hoop earrings in.
“The red jacket?” you eye her in surprise. Sandra loves that jacket more than her own life. The two of you have been sharing your clothes since you became roommates last year, but the jacket has been off limits always.
“I know how important tonight is for you. The occasion deserves the red jacket,” she chuckles, stepping to her wardrobe to get the jacket. It’s the most badass leather jacket you’ve ever seen, looks so perfect on Sandra every time she wears, you feel honored she is letting you take it for the day.
“Oliver won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” she smiles at you excited once you’re all dressed. The jacket looks amazing, pulls the look together perfectly, you can’t deny that.
Soon enough, the two of you leave the dorm and head in the way of Kappa Chi, that’s only a fifteen minute walk away from your dorm. They are having a party almost every other week, those boys would celebrate the stupidest shit just to fill their house up with people and booze as much as possible. You and Sandra have been attending their parties since first year, it’s always a great way to unwind after a tiring week at uni.
“When is he coming?” Sandra asks over the music once you two arrive and head to the kitchen for a drink.
“Um, he texted me ten minutes ago that he is about to leave soon. He’ll be here shortly,” you tell her and thank her when she hands you a beer in a red solo cup.
The house is packed, just like always. Most of the football players from school are member of Kappa Chi, so naturally, all girls want to be around when they are throwing a party. You could say they are the popular guys, but it’s not like in the movies. They are just some particularly handsome guys living together, attracting a lot of girls. They are not at all unreachable, you are kind of friends with a few of them as well even without being a sorority girl yourself.
Standing in the kitchen you get into a conversation with a few girls from your dorm, that’s when you see Harry Styles storm through the house, Naomi Saddler following behind him, seemingly very much in the middle of a fight he doesn’t want to take part in. You know Harry, but you couldn’t say you two are that close. You did a group project last year together and he is actually a really smart guy despite the gossips about him just being a dumb womanizer. He surely is a ladies’ favorite, but you wouldn’t say the description fits him. You haven’t actually seen him with more than three girls since freshman year, unlike some of his other teammates that hook up with a different girl every weekend. He and Naomi have been in this on-off relationship for a few months now, but you don’t know much about them. You don’t run in the same groups to know the details.
The two of them disappear upstairs and you are pulled out of your thoughts when someone asks you a question, so you forget about Harry and Naomi in a blink of an eye.
An hour passes and still no sign of Oliver and you start to feel anxious. You shoot him a text, struggling a little with the typing thanks to the alcohol you’ve been consuming to keep your cool. Surprisingly, he answers right away.
Oliver: Be there in 3. Meet me outside?
Y/N: Sure!
“Alright, wish me luck,” you tell Sandra as you fill your cup again and head outside.
Kappa Chi has a nice backyard with a decent sized pool, some beerpong tables and lots of lounge chairs. You walk past the beerpong games, paying no attention to them at all as you go for an empty lounge chair. You sit down, fix your dress nervously and wait while you try to think through what you’ll tell him.
You can’t believe you are finally telling him how you are feeling. Your teenager self would be peeing herself is she knew what you are planning to do now. All those years of pining and crying whenever Oliver had a girlfriend in the past, now is your chance to finally be that girl and you’re actually quite convinced he’ll say he feels the same way about you.
Fidgeting with one of the zippers on Sandra’s jacket, you nervously wait for Oliver to show up. You look in the direction of the backdoor right when he appears from the crowd inside. Your heart skips a beat as you stand up quickly, a smile tugging on your lips. You are just about to wave in his way to catch his attention when you see some brunette by his side… holding his hand. And then she kisses him shortly right before they step out of the house.
What the fuck?! This cannot be true. Who is she? And why do you know nothing about her? Did Oliver keep it a secret that he is dating someone? But why?!
For a moment you actually feel like you are about to faint. Blood rushes out of your head as you see the couple walk their way around the beerpong tables, Oliver obviously looking for you, but you can’t bring yourself to move.
“Y/N! There you are!” he beams happily, pulling the brunette with him when he finally spots you. You need a moment for yourself to get over the first wave of your shock.
“Oh, yeah! Hi!” you smile awkwardly, eyes meeting with the girl’s. She is so pretty and actually seems nice. You hate her for that.
“Y/N, I want you to meet Lexi,” Oliver introduces the brunette. “Lexi, this is Y/N.”
“I’ve heard so much about you, Y/N!” she smiles, pulling you into a hug that catches you off guard for sure.
“Wow, I… wish I could say the same,” you bitterly reply, eyes meeting Oliver’s once Lexi lets go of you. He is clearly uncomfortable at your comment, but tries to mask it quickly.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to tell you about Lexi. But it’s kind of new.”
“How new?”
“We’ve been going out for about three weeks,” she answers your question, her hand finding his pretty quickly as she smiles up at him with so much adoration.
“Oh,” is all you manage to get out for a moment. You still haven’t completely processed that your plan just went straight out the window and that once again, Oliver chose another girl over you.
But then, the more you think about it, the angrier you get. You are tired of this stupid game you two have been playing, but you also have no idea what to do about it.
“I thought that Y/N, if you have a boyfriend, we could maybe go on some double dates! Would be so much fun!” Lexi suggests, but her words make your stomach churn. You have always wanted to go on double dates, but with Oliver being your date. Not someone else’s…
“I uhh… I don’t…” You are so frozen, you can’t even think of an answer, you just want to leave as soon as possible, so you can cry yourself to sleep. Oliver brings an arm around Lexi’s shoulders, looking down at you as if he wasn’t cuddling you just not that long ago. As if he wasn’t preaching your beauty a few weeks ago, making you feel like the only girl in the world. This is so not fair.
“Y/N is not a fan of double dates.”
Suddenly, an arm swings around your shoulders and a tall body stands next to you, pulling you to his side. Turning your head you are shocked to see Harry standing there, smiling at Oliver and Lexi as if this discussion was completely his business.
Oliver seems just as shocked as you are. He is staring at the football player by your side with wide eyes.
“Wait, you two are… dating?”
“It’s pretty new, but yeah. Y/N and I have been going out for a while. Right, baby?” He squeezes your arm, glancing down at you and when your eyes meet, he gives you a look that says ‘just go with it, I’m saving your ass’ and you decide to play your part.
“Oh, umm, yeah. We’ve kind of reconnected when we got back after the summer,” you nod, hoping that your voice doesn’t give you away.
“That’s amazing!” Lexi cheers, clearly eating up the impromptu lie, but as you glance at Oliver, you can tell he is sceptic.
“I didn’t even know you were friends in the first place,” he comments, eyebrows furrowed a little as he eyes Harry’s hand on your shoulder.
“We were! We had a great time working on a group project last year and then later I asked for her number. But the summer was so busy for both of us, so we kind of fell out, but then we met again in September and I finally manned up to ask her out.”
You are impressed by how easily Harry is lying. If you didn’t know it wasn’t true, you would eat it up just as easily as Lexi is doing right now. Especially because his body language matches up with what he is saying so well. He is keeping you close, fingers dancing on your upper arm and shoulder, anyone would think he actually has a thing for you, but you know that’s not true. You two are barely even friends.
“That sounds so nice. We definitely should meet up sometime, the four of us!” Lexi suggests again and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“We’ll see about that. But I’ll have to steal Y/N away now, I have something to show her.” Harry bids his goodbye quickly, pulling you away before Oliver could even say a thing and you just blindly follow him inside the house.
You don’t even process what’s happening. Harry takes your hand, pulling you through the crowd and you catch Sandra’s gaze who is still standing in the kitchen, her eyes widening when she sees you with Harry. You just shrug in confusion, following Harry upstairs until he leads you into a room that, you assume, is his.
When he shuts the door closed, the noises of the party gets muffled and you look at him with probably the stupidest look ever.
“Alright, let me explain myself,” he breathes out. “I’m sorry if I stepped over some boundaries, I just… I was outside and heard the conversation. Thought I would help you out.”
“But what made you think I needed help?” you ask. The conversation was very innocent for an outsider. He couldn’t know what you were planning to do, so why did he think you needed his help?
Harry gives you a tight-lipped smile, cocking his head to the side.
“Y/N, we might not be close friends, but I’ve seen you around with Oliver. It’s written on your forehead that you have the fattest crush on the guy.”
“What?!” you snap, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Is this really that obvious?!”
“Don’t worry, seems like he is one of the few that don’t seem to notice it. I saw how uncomfortable you were when he introduced the girl. Seemed like you needed the help.”
Nodding you take a few seconds to process everything that just happened. You shouldn’t have drunk that much, because now your brain has to work even harder to put the picture together.
“Alright, but… now they think that we are dating. Lexi will want to meet up with us and it will look stupid if we never even show up again together.”
Harry nods, his lips rolling into his mouth and you know just from his look that there’s more.
“Yeah, about that. I might have had some selfish reasons behind my actions as well.”
“What do you mean?”
Harry walks past you, over to his bed and sits on the edge, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, if you should sit next to him or somewhere else, he has a few beanbags in the corner of his room, but you decide to just keep standing.
“So, I don’t know if you know this but I had this thing with Naomi Saddler.”
“Harry, everyone knows it.”
“Right, yeah,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So the thing is, we have broken up a long time ago, but she keeps coming after me and I’m just so over it. So when we were fighting earlier today I told her that I’m dating someone else so I would appreciate if she left me alone.”
He doesn’t need to say more, you finally see the whole picture. He helped you because he felt sorry for you, but also because he thought it would benefit him as well. You could be his new girlfriend so Naomi would finally let him be. You have to admit, it’s a lucky coincidence, but still, the situation is a little absurd for your liking.
“So… what are we supposed to do now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Harry looks up at you, seemingly surprised you haven’t snapped at him.
“Well, I know it sounds crazy, but I think we both would benefit from it if we just… pretended to be a couple,” he clears off.
“Like, a real couple?”
“Well, obviously not real, but it would look real to others,” he chuckles, standing up and taking a few steps closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m convinced we could pull it off.”
“We barely know each other.”
“We’ll have plenty of time for that, won’t we?” he asks with a boyish smirk. “Look, we just have to appear together here and there. I’ll pick you up sometimes, we can go for lunch or dinner sometimes, and I’ll get you tickets for some of my games. That’s it. People will see us out together and that’s gonna be perfectly enough. Or do you actually hate me? Now is the time to tell me.”
“I don’t hate you, I don’t know you that well,” you reply with a soft chuckle. “But I’m not convinced enough this is a good idea at all.”
Harry sighs and walks closer until he can rest his hands on your shoulders. You look deep into his green eyes as he smiles at you warmly.
“Let’s make a deal. You can use me as an excuse whenever Oliver and Lexi wants to hang out with you, or if they actually force you to meet them, I’ll go with you so you won’t be the third wheel. And you’ll just have to say that I’m your boyfriend and spend some time with me so Naomi believes I’m dating you. I think it’s a fair deal for the both of us. And you can call it off anytime, I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”
You chew on your bottom lip, thinking hard to figure out what to do. Judging from this short conversation with Lexi, you’re sure she’ll try to keep you around often, but you are not in the mood to watch Oliver be all lovey-dovey with someone else, so you could actually use a solid excuse, which Harry just offered you on a silver plate. You just have to spend some time with him in exchange and tell people he is your boyfriend. It’s not that horrible and you always thought Harry is nice company, you two just never was in the same friend group to get closer. You can’t really bring up anything against his plan.
“Okay,” you finally nod, Harry’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Really?”
“Why are you so shocked? Your points were valid, I’m willing to give it a try.”
“Yes! Thank you!” he cheers, arms wrapping around you as he hugs you tight in excitement. “I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, you won’t be disappointed!”
You want to say how it’s easy to be the best because you’ve had none so far, but you decide to keep this information to yourself.
“We need to get our story straight though, so we don’t mess it up when someone asks.”
The two of you go over an elaborate timeline of your nonexistent relationship so you’ll be able to tell the same story. It’s the same he told Lexi and Oliver outside, you just agree on the details, like when you started dating, how he asked you out, what you’ve been doing as a couple lately.
When you leave his room a little later you’re still a tad bit shocked where this evening ended up heading. You really thought tonight would be the turning point for you and Oliver, but now you are in a fake relationship with Harry Styles, ready to fool everyone around you.
Walking down the stairs Harry takes your hand and laces your fingers together. You agreed on no kissing on the lips for now, but other touching is allowed, you’re just not used to have someone other than Oliver touch you like this.
“Want another drink?” he asks as the two of you walk into the kitchen. You’ve already caught some wide-eyed look upon your arrival, but you’re trying your best to ignore them.
“I surely need it,” you nod, making Harry chuckle.
Sandra and the other girls are still in the kitchen and she immediately pulls you to the side when Harry lets go of you to get drinks.
“What the fuck?!” she snaps, clearly a little drunk, but not enough to ignore the fact that she has seen you now two times holding Harry’s hand.
“Sandra, don’t freak out, I’ll explain it all when we go home, alright? But… as far as you know, Harry and I are dating.”
“You what? You better fucking tell me everything when we get back to the dorm!” she demands right when Harry appears, two cups in his hands, giving you one of them.
“Here,” he smiles warmly.
“Thank you. Harry, this is Sandra, my roommate.”
“Hi, I think I’ve seen you around, but we just never met.” Harry holds out his now empty hand and Sandra shakes it with a dramatic smile, clearly still confused about the situation.
“Yeah, but I guess we’ll be… seeing each other more?” she implies, telling Harry she knows something is up without using those words.
“Ehm, I guess,” he nods, a little uncomfortable before he turns to you. “Alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Let me know when you want to go back to the dorm.” “Sure,” you nod, Harry squeezes your hand gently before moving away.
Sandra is dying to know what the situation is with Harry, but you don’t really have the chance to talk in the middle of the party, so it’s postponed to later. You and Harry do your own thing through the rest of the night, occasionally interacting whenever you cross paths. When that happens he makes sure to touch your arm or face, have a few words with you so people see that the two of you have a thing going on.
It’s a little past one am when you and Sandra decide it’s time to head home. As promised, you shoot Harry a text that you’re planning to leave and he replies with one saying he’ll meet you outside at the front. By the time you and Sandra step outside, he is already there waiting.
“Ladies, let me walk you home,” he smirks charmingly, offering his arm for the both of you, so this is how you head home: you, Sandra and Harry walking side by side with linked arms.
“Mm, Harry, I hope you know you won’t be spending the night in our room,” Sandra sighs, clearly a little too lost in her drunk thoughts. Harry chuckles, finding it amusing that Sandra is so blunt.
“Weren’t planning to.”
“Good. I’m not gonna listen to you guys have sex all night.”
“Sandra!” you snap at her, gasping. It’s funny how she also believed the little act you and Harry put up tonight.
The walk back to the dorm is short and it’s mostly filled with Sandra’s babbling about whatever catches her attention. Arriving to the building Sandra says her goodbye to Harry, heading up to the room on her own so you can have a minute with Harry.
“I’ve had at least ten people coming up to me tonight, asking about you,” Harry tells you, an excited sparkle in his eyes.
“Really? And what did you tell them?”
“What we agreed on. That you’re my girlfriend.”
“Sounds so weird,” you admit with a chuckle.
“You’ll get used to it,” he nods smiling. “Well, I’m gonna head back. I’ll talk to you later, okay? We’ll discuss the dates and all.”
“Very romantic,” you point out smirking, but Harry just laughs before he gives you a quick hug.
“Good night, Y/N. Or should I say, baby?”
“Bye!” you sing waving in his way as you walk into the building.
It’s no surprise that Sandra is already out when you walk into the room. Her clothes are in a pile next to her bed, but she managed to throw on at least a t-shirt before she passed out. You just smile at her before doing your quick night routine and go to sleep yourself.
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“So… you are fake dating Harry, because Oliver introduced you his new girlfriend and also because he is trying to get rid of Naomi? Am I getting this right?”
Sandra narrows her eyes at you over her morning coffee the next day, though it’s already past noon. Waking up was a little painful for the both of you, but especially for her, the two of you decided to treat yourselves for a very late brunch while you tell her everything she needs to know about last night.
“Yeah,” you nod, taking a bite from your waffles. “I know, it sounds stupid, but… it can easily work great for the both of us.”
“I can’t believe he just came up with it. You guys are not even really friends.”
“I know, I was shocked when he appeared all of a sudden and called me baby. Almost fainted,” you chuckle.
“I hope you know you’ll be one of the most envied girls in school if the news spread and I’m sure it will, because even I heard people talking about you and Harry last night.”
“I know, but there’s not much I can do about that,” you shrug.
“I feel like it’s the plotline of some teenage rom-com,” Sandra huffs. “Just be careful, Y/N,” she sighs, finishing off her coffee.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that pretending can easily turn into reality. If you’ll spend so much time with Harry, there’s a chance you’ll develop real feelings for him. Just make sure you won’t end up with a broken heart.”
“That’s silly, I won’t fall for Harry. I…” You cut your words, thoughts wandering over to Oliver right away, and how you felt when he introduced you to Lexi.
“I hope you’re right,” Sandra tells you, stuffing the last bits of her muffin into her mouth.
The weekend flies by fast, you busy yourself with doing laundry and finishing a paper you need to turn in soon. Harry text you on Sunday that he’ll walk you to class on Monday morning and you agree to meet up a little earlier so you can actually talk it all out.
Sandra is still in bed when you leave in the morning. Just as Harry promised, he is waiting for you in front of the building, wearing his usual black skinny jeans and a loose grey shirt and a zip-up hoodie. His curls look untamed, a little all over the place, but it looks good on him. You have to admit, that he is definitely handsome, you understand why so many of the girls at school are after him.
“Good morning, girlfriend,” he smirks, holding out his hand for you that you take, still feeling a little weird about walking around campus hand in hand with him.
“Good morning. How was your weekend?”
“Pretty boring, we had to clean up after the party,” he chuckles. “Wanna grab a coffee?”
“Sounds perfect.”
You swing by the little café that’s on campus before aiming for a bench under one of the pergolas near the main building.
“So, you still haven’t changed your mind,” he speaks up. It’s not a question, more like a comment.
“Not yet,” you chuckle softly, sipping on your cappuccino.
“I meant it that you can tell me whenever you want out. I don’t want to force you into it in any way.”
“I know,” you smile at him. “I’m fine for now. It’s just still a little weird.”
“I know, but I’m kind of happy you are the one I’m doing this with.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know, you seem like a cool person. I actually enjoyed working with you last year on that project, you are funny and smart, I think we’ll get along pretty well.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he smirks at you, taking a sip from his coffee. “You know, if I’m being honest I never understood why you and that Oliver guy were so close anyway. You’ve known him for a long time?”
“Yeah, met him in middle school and we’ve been friends since then.”
“And how long have you been… you know,” he implies, seemingly very careful not to ask something that would upset you.
“Pretty much ever since I’ve met him,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. It sounds so embarrassing to admit that you’ve been in love with your best friend for so long and never worked up the courage to do something about it.
“You never even tried to tell him?”
“I was too afraid of his reaction. I was planning to come clean at the party finally, but then he arrived with Lexi and… you know the rest.”
“I’m sorry. I know how shitty it is when you have feelings for someone and they don’t feel the same about you.”
“So what’s the situation with you and Naomi then?” you ask, thinking it’s only fair if you also know his story now that you confessed him how ridiculous you’ve been with Oliver all your life.
“We dated at the end of last semester, tried to keep it up in the summer as well, but it didn’t work. It made me realize I don’t even want it to work so I told her that we should just go our separate ways when I got back after the summer, but she wasn’t a fan of my idea.”
“She’s still in love with you?”
“I’m not sure if she ever was,” he truthfully answers. “I think she liked the idea of dating someone more than she liked me.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” he smirks at you playfully. “I’m all good. I just wish she could accept that I want to move on. It’s not ideal that I have to fake date someone to get rid of her.”
“She always seemed like a nice girl to me, I wouldn’t have guessed she can be so stubborn.”
“Well, she is a nice girl,” Harry nods. “We were just not compatible on the long run, you know? I couldn’t see it work in the future, so I didn’t want to waste more time on it.”
You just shyly nod, even though you don’t really know about it. You can’t, because you’ve never been in a similar situation. You’ve had a few attempts at dating in high school, but they never turned out the way you wanted and you always ended up pining after Oliver at the end, so you eventually gave up. But you’re not willing to admit that to Harry. It’s pathetic enough that you’ve been so hung up on Oliver your whole life, he doesn’t need to know that you gave up your whole dating life for the wait for him.
“Well, aren’t we a nice pair then? Two ridiculously failed love stories, how tragic,” Harry chuckles softly as he finishes up his coffee and throws the empty cup into the bin next to him.
“Yeah, pathetic,” you agree with a tight-lipped smile.
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It takes some time for word to travel, but by the end of the first week of your fake relationship, it becomes a well-known fact that you are indeed dating Harry Styles. You don’t overdo it though, only meeting up once or twice a day, Harry usually walks you to your classes in the morning if he doesn’t have a lecture himself, you’ve had lunch together twice and you went to the library on Thursday together. It’s been pretty casual and you’ve been actually enjoying spending time with Harry, especially because it seems like Oliver has fallen off the face of Earth lately, barely even talking to you.
The more time you spend with Harry the more you realize he is nothing like others try to make him look like. You’ve heard many gossips about him being an empty-headed womanizer, but he is a lot smarter than people assume him to be, but he has proven it before as well. He actually has a great point of view of life and it’s nice to discuss basically anything with him.
Friday brings another party and though you didn’t plan on going, you had Sandra and Harry convincing you this time. Then later Oliver texted you asking if you’d be there and it angered you a little. He barely spoke to you and is now asking if you are coming to the party where he’ll probably keep ignoring you for Lexi. So you told him you and Harry would be there. He didn’t reply to that.
You and Sandra call an Uber, the Omega house is a little farther away from the dorm than the Kappa house. Harry called you to tell you he’d be a little late this time because they are having a double practice today, but he would come and find you when he arrives.
“Isn’t it a little weird you can’t hook up with anyone because of the Harry situation?” Sandra asks as the two of you make your way through the spacious living room, heading to the empty loveseat in the corner.
“As if I did a lot of hooking up before,” you scoff, taking a sip from your drink.
“Okay, but you could be doing it now, but you can’t, because people would think you’re cheating.”
“It’s a good thing then that I’m not into hooking up,” you point out with a shrug. You were never a fan of just hooking up with someone and then move on the next morning, that’s just not for you. It’s not a big deal that you are kind of out of the dating scene because of your arrangement with Harry, you don’t feel like you’re missing out on anything.
The two of you are joined by a few peers from one of Sandra’s classes and you barely even notice when Oliver and Lexi arrive, however, they immediately spot you.
“Y/N! Hi! So good to see you again!” Lexi greets you, pulling you into a completely unnecessary hug.
“Oh, hi. Good to see you too, I guess,” you chuckle awkwardly. Oliver gives you a side hug as well, but it seems like he is not entirely present in his head.
“Where’s Harry?” Oliver questions.
“He’ll be here soon, he just had double practice today,” you tell him and he nods shortly, but something feels off about him.
Lexi makes you come to the kitchen with them so she can get a drink and you can’t really think of a reason why you shouldn’t, so you find yourself listening to her nonstop chatter while Oliver is mixing them something to drink.
Y/N: Harry, SOS! When are you getting here?? I’m stuck with O and L…
You really hope he is somewhere close, because you’re not sure how long you can put up with their company.
“I know last time you said you’re not a fan of double dates, but I really think we should give it a try!” Lexi begs you, she even puts her bottom lip at you and it annoys you how she can’t just leave you to be.
“Yeah, I would love to get to know Harry better,” Oliver chimes in.
“You do?”
Relief washes over you the moment you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you, a moment later you feel his palm on the small of your back and you’re finally rescued. He smells like fresh body wash, he surely just had a shower right before he came here. You let yourself lean into his side, curling an arm around his waist.
“Harry, nice to see you again,” Oliver smiles at him dryly and now you’re sure something is up with him, but what is it?
“Sorry I’m so late. Everything alright?” Harry looks you in the eyes and you know his question is more than just him being nice. He wants to know if Oliver and Lexi has driven you up the walls.
“I’m… fine, yeah,” you nod and he holds your gaze for another moment before nodding to himself.
“We were just talking about how amazing a double date would be. I’m sure you could convince Y/N to come, right?” Lexi smiles at Harry and you catch a small frown on his face before he returns the smile to Lexi. You find it funny, but you push down your laugh.
“Um, not sure. Y/N always has a strong will, not sure I want to go against it.”
“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!”
“Y/N doesn’t like PDA, I’m sure double dating is a lot for her,” Oliver comments and your eyebrows shoot up at his words.
“How would you know if I disliked PDA?”
He has no valid information about it. He wouldn’t know, because the only person you ever wanted to get touchy and lovey in public was him, but he only let you get physically close to him when no one was around. When he felt like he needed someone in his bed so he didn’t feel too alone. When he let his hands roam your body under the blanket when you were watching a movie. He never let it happen with others around though, so how would he even know what you like? Hell, even you don’t know it…
Oliver’s eyes meet yours and it’s clear that your question caught him off guard.
“You told me,” he simply answers.
“I don’t remember,” you retort, not letting him get away with it this time.
“This is how you’ve always been.” He is clearly pissed that you are going against him.
“You know what? Let’s do a double date next weekend, alright? But we have somewhere to be now, if you’ll excuse us,” Harry cuts in, taking your hand as he pulls you away from the happy couple. You glance back at Oliver one last time before turning around.
Harry walks you out to the backyard and the cool air hits you hard in the head. You haven’t even realized how hot you were getting in there, but you’re not entirely sure it was because of all the people, rather of because Oliver’s behavior.
“Okay, what the fuck was that in there?” Harry questions.
“What do you mean?”
“Y/N, I’m not dumb or blind. Lexi might be oblivious to whatever you and Oliver have going on, but I’m not. Something has happened between you and him, right?”
You chew on your bottom lip, crossing your arms on your chest, not too keen on admitting it. You have never told anyone about it in details, not even Sandra. She knows you and Oliver get a little too close at times, but she has no idea you’ve slept with him on several occasions. You always thought you were a fool for sleeping with him and then watching him date other girls.
Unfortunately, your silence is enough for Harry to draw his conclusion.
“Wait, what? Did you two…?”
“Yes,” you shortly nod, feeling uncomfortable, but you can tell you can’t dodge this conversation this time.
“You’re telling me he has the nerve to sleep with you whenever it’s convenient for him and then drop you when he starts dating someone else?”
“It sounds worse than how it really is,” you mumble, but you don’t truly believe your own words. It’s pretty bad either way.
“Y/N, this is fucked up. A friend wouldn’t do that to you. It’s one thing to seek comfort at your friends, but using them for your own physical needs is just way beyond the line.”
You have nothing to say. Deep down you know he is right, you’ve always known, but you never knew what to do against it. Before you could even stop yourself, you feel your lips trembling, tears bubbling in your eyes as you glance at Harry. You expect pity from him, an act that tells you that you brought it all to yourself, but that’s not what you see. He gives you an apologetic look and he is quick to pull you into a tight hug, exactly what you need right now.
“I know, I’m so stupid,” you mumble into his chest.
“You’re not. He is just an ass,” he corrects you, earning a small chuckle from you. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asks, pulling back so he can look into your eyes.
“You just got here.”
“Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood to party. Want to have a bite somewhere?”
“That would be… great,” you nod with a small smile, sniffling a little before you wipe your cheeks.
You let Sandra know you’re leaving with Harry and she can tell something has happened, but you just tell her you’ll talk later and she doesn’t push it further. Harry takes your hand as the two of you make your way through the people and you spot Oliver near the kitchen, one arm around Lexi’s shoulders as his gaze meets yours. You see him clenching his jaw when he sees your hand in Harry’s hold, but you don’t pay much attention to him, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
Luckily Harry drove to the Omega house so now you don’t have to wait for a car or take a long walk, you can enjoy the comfort of his Rover as the two of you leave the party behind. It’s silent in the car, you fold your arms over your chest, your head resting against the car door, not even questioning him where you are headed.
About ten minutes later Harry pulls up at a little diner, the two of you walk in and it’s not surprising there are just a few people lingering around at this time, though you know later they’ll have quite a few drunk students that are on their way home and in desperate need of a late night bite.
You take an empty booth and a waitress arrives immediately, handing you each a menu.
“Do you go here often?” you ask quietly, eyeing the options.
“Sometimes. They have great fries.”
You nod and decide to have just a cheeseburger with fries and a lemonade while Harry gets the veggie burger and a milkshake. The waiter takes the order shortly and leaves you alone. You’re not sure what to say, but you feel like you need to say something.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, staring down at your arms laying on the edge of the table, your right hand covering your left.
“For what exactly?”
“For… I just feel so stupid about this whole… Oliver thing. I know I shouldn’t have done what we did, but I just… couldn’t say no. I know, sounds ridiculous.”
“No, not at all,” Harry shakes his head. “You fell for him and he used you. If there’s anyone to blame it’s him, he shouldn’t use a friend for his own selfish needs. I’m not judging you, it’s easy to fall into holes like this.”
“I just really thought that he came to me because I meant something for him, but I can tell that… it wasn’t anything like that. The way he acted today was shockingly sobering,” you chuckle bitterly. “I think he is mad that I’m not available for him anymore and he is trying to play us down,” you say pointing at him and yourself. “So when he breaks it off with Lexi he can count on me, but it’s not happening.”
“I am happy to help you teach him any kind of lesson,” Harry grins just as the waiter arrives with the food and you start the feast. “I know you despise the idea of going on a double date with them, but I think we could have a lot of fun,” Harry points out while eating.
“How?”
“It’s obviously bugging Oliver that you are dating someone, we could give him the extra happy couple act, make him question why he was always such an asshole to you.”
“You think it would bother him?”
“Absolutely,” he chuckles. “We would serve him all the sappy, lovey couple shit from movies and get under his skin. I think it would be fun.”
“Okay, let’s do it,” you nod and Harry grins at you from across the table.
“Yes! Fake dating on maximum level!” he cheers, punching into the air, making you laugh.
As the two of you eat Harry talks your ears off and you know exactly why he just keeps on talking. He wants to take your mind away from everything about Oliver and he succeeds. He tells you stories about what it’s like to live in the frat house, all the funny things they’ve done with the boys and you just keep laughing and laughing until all the food is gone, the table is cleared off and it’s nearing one in the morning. Just as you expected, people from around the campus start dropping by for their midnight bite so the two of you slowly head out, not really wanting to run into someone you know. Harry drives you back to the dormitory and walks you up to the entrance.
“Thank you for tonight,” you breathe out, still feeling a little helpless and pathetic, but he definitely made it better with his company.
“No worries. After all, this is what boyfriends are for,” he chuckles lightly. “But I hope you are not gonna sink into self-pity over that douche.”
“Just a little?” you peek up at him with a scowl.
“Nope, not even a little, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your time. If he is really gonna let you slip through his fingers, he is the biggest idiot on Earth. And he also has to be blind.”
For some reason, Harry’s words bring a blush to your cheeks, even if there’s a chance he doesn’t really mean them.
“Thank you,” you breathe out and he pulls you in for a hug without hesitation. You wrap your arms around his waist and inhale his sweet scent, melting into his warm embrace before you force yourself to let your arms fall from around his frame.
“Have a good rest of your weekend, girlfriend,” he smirks, backing towards his car. “I’ll see you on Monday!”
“Bye Harry!” you smile in his way before making your way inside.
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Not too willingly, but you talk to Oliver the next week about the double date. He sounds clearly surprised that you brought it up yourself and he tries to talk you down, but you’re now way too curious about what would go down, so he has no choice than to say yes. You fix the date to Saturday and Harry says it’s fine for him and that the two of you can go over to the frat house later, they are gonna have a small get together for one of the guys’ birthday. Not a party, more of a beer and pizza type of evening since Clyde, the birthday boy is not that big of a party animal.
The week passes by as usual, you spend some time with Sandra and a little more with Harry. Since you’ve started this whole dating thing, you’ve found yourself getting used to have him around. It doesn’t feel forced anymore, you actually like hanging out with him, have him beside you in the library even if you’re not even talking and whenever you spot him waiting for you in the morning or after one of your classes, you have this stupid smile on your face walking up to him, especially when he calls you girlfriend. Sandra’s warning words pop up in your head time to time, telling you to be careful with having actual feelings for Harry, but you keep telling yourself the two of you are nothing else than just good friends.
Saturday morning you get your nails done with Sandra, have some much needed girly time since you’ve had little of that lately, even a fake relationship needs a lot of time and energy, if you’re being honest.
Sandra catches you smiling down at a text that’s from Harry, he just joked about wearing a tux to the roller-skating rink and you imagined it right away, the picture of everyone else dressed casually while he is dressed for a royal ball is just hilarious.
“So how are things with Harry?” she asks from the chair next to you.
“What do you mean?” you ask, eyes fixed on your nails as the lady is carefully painting them a light pink color.
“You two are like glued together.”
“Yeah, I like spending time with him. And like, we are dating,” you smirk, finding it funny to just casually say it.
“You do know you don’t have to keep the act up with me, right?”
“I know, but we really are friends,” you nod.
“Just friends? Because sometimes being friends with someone is a bit more to you,” she comments and your face falls. She right away realizes it was a little harsh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean to be a bitch. I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t want to see another guy taking advantage of you.”
“He is already taking advantage of me in a way, but it’s mutual,” you shrug, trying to mask the fact how much her words hurt. You’re still trying to get over the whole Oliver thing and though it’s been easier with Harry around, you still feel hurt over how badly he has been using you in the past years.
“And… you don’t have feelings for him?”
“We’re friends,” you tell her again.
“Yes, but you can have feelings for a friend too, Y/N.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it. We are doing fine, I enjoy being with him, that’s all.”
“Alright, I believe you. Just want to make sure you are not getting yourself into another Oliver situation.”
“I’m not. Harry is not him,” you firmly state and it’s the truth. Even if things go south with him, you can never see him do the things Oliver did. He is not him in the best possible way.
 For the double date you choose to wear your favorite pair of light-washed mom jeans with a tank top tucked into it and a colorful cardigan under your jacket. Harry texted you that he would pick you up at six and because you are ready by half past five, you sit around in your room a little anxiously. You honestly have no idea what’s gonna happen tonight, where it’s gonna head but you can only hope it won’t be scandalous. People already talk enough about you for dating Harry, you don’t need to be known about being the girl who made a scene at the roller-skating rink with her boyfriend and best friend. It wouldn’t do good to your reputation.
When Harry finally texts you letting you know he has arrived you rush down the stairs, still haven’t been able to shake your nerves off, but as soon as you spot him standing by his car, you kind of forget about everything else. He is wearing his usual skinny jeans with a black shirt, of course, the first few buttons left undone. His hair is getting longer, curls constantly falling into his forehead, but you love it. Makes him look soft and like… like a prince.
“Hey, ready to have fun?” he smirks at you, opening the door to the passenger seat to you.
“I don’t think I will ever be ready for this kind of fun,” you admit with a soft chuckle before getting into the car.
“I’ll be right there with you, okay? We’re gonna crush them,” he grins at you driving. “And we can just leave whenever you want to.” Reaching over the console he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. The gesture sends a shiver running down your spine. It feels so good to have his support, you wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else than him.
Oliver and Lexi are already at the arcade that’s connected with the skating place when the two of you arrive. She looks ecstatic about tonight and it’s almost kind of cute, you’re convinced you’d actually be friends with her if the two of you met under different circumstances.
“Hi! Thank you so much for coming! I know it’s not really your thing, but I’m so happy we can finally hang out!” she cheers, giving you a hug. Oliver and Harry shake hands and Harry gives Lexi a short hug while you just awkwardly nod in Oliver’s direction, already feeling anxious in his presence. Harry takes your hand walking in and squeezes it gently. Peeking up at him he gifts you with a warm smile that tells you: it’s gonna be alright, I’m here with you.
Once all four of you have changed your shoes to your skates and put your belongings to the lockers you head to the rink, you and Lexi in the middle, Harry on your other side while Oliver is on Lexi’s other side.
“Y/N, Oliver has told me a lot about you. What was it like, growing up with him?” Lexi asks as the four of you roll around. You’re not the worst at roller-skating, you can move confidently, but it seems like Harry is the best out of all of you, easily moving around, as if he were on his feet.
Thinking back at your time with Oliver now at Lexi’s question, it’s quite bittersweet. Because you are starting to realize things you didn’t see back then. Like how you were always in his shadow, he was always the guy everyone liked and you were just the girl that tagged along.
“Um, not sure what you want to know about,” you chuckle awkwardly as you watch Harry throw his ball for the first time.
“Was he a womanizer? Tell me the truth! He says he barely dated a few people,” she chuckles, taking Oliver’s hand. He is pretty much avoiding to look you in the eyes as you glance over him and you really wish she didn’t ask you about it.
“He had quite a few… flings,” you say, not entirely sure how to phrase it. He wasn’t a womanizer, but he did start to hook up with you between girls a while ago, making his reputation a little questionable.
“I knew you were downplaying it!” she playfully smacks his chest and you just bite into your bottom lip. This is already so awkward.
“I think Y/N is just exaggerating,” Oliver chimes in, seemingly not a fan of the conversation either.
“Sure, it’s always me,” you mumble under your breath.
Harry takes your hand and gets a little ahead of you before turning around so he is facing you while skating backwards.
“Hey baby, want me to teach you how to go in zig-zag?” he smirks, clearly wanting to ease the tension. Nodding you let him take both of your hands as the two of you stay a little back from Oliver and Lexi. “Don’t let him get under your skin. He is a fucking asshole,” he tells you when he knows they can’t hear him.
“Was he always like this? I have no idea how I could put up with his act,” you mumble with a scowl.
“Fuck them. Come on, let’s have a good time,” he grins before taking the lead.
Harry makes your forget about them so easily, like it’s not even a double date, just the two of you hanging out. He keeps teaching you moves, laughing together whenever you get wobbly. He catches you every time when you’re about to lose your balance, he doesn’t let you fall and every time his arms circle around you, keeping you on your feet steadily, you find yourself blushing at how close he is getting to you. His hands holding yours, small touches on your arms and back, he takes every chance to connect the two of you and you enjoy every second of it.
“Harry, no!” you laugh as he holds your hand, still going around.
“Come on! Just try it! Just a little jump!” he encourages.
“Do you want to see me fall?”
“I would have let you fall a long time ago if that’s what I wanted,” he smirks. He gets ahead of you again, both his hands taking yours and you still can’t get used to how soothing his palms feel against yours. “I’ll catch you this time too, don’t worry.”
“I swear you are trying to kill me,” you groan as you try to figure out how to do a little jump without breaking a bone. “But just a little one!”
“The tiniest one,” he chuckles nodding.
You let him take the lead and he starts pulling you again, skating backwards like he did all evening and when you feel like you’re stable enough, you give it a go.
Unfortunately, what happens is exactly what you were expecting. When your skates meet with the floor again after the little jump, you don’t find your balance and immediately feel your feet rolling out from under yourself. Harry reaches out for you, just like he promised, grabbing onto your arm with one hand while the other one presses into your back, but this time he can’t save you and you pull him with yourself as well. The two of you end up falling to the ground in a laughing mess as Harry is partially lying on you, an arm stuck under you while the other one is across your chest.
“I told you!” you cry out but it turns into laughter pretty fast.
“I’m sorry, baby, are you okay?” he asks laughing and your heart skips a beat at how he called you baby again and Oliver is not even around.
“I-I’m fine,” you breathe out as he peels himself off you, helping you up with him as well. He is so close to you as you finally stand on your feet again, your noses almost brush against each other as you blink up at him nervously.
It would be so easy to kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to feel his lips against yours. Maybe if you move just a little…
“Are you trying to break a bone, Y/N?” Lexi rolls up to you, totally breaking the moment as you both turn to her. Harry leaves an arm around you, hand resting on your waist and you lean against him to steady yourself on your wheels.
“It was Harry’s idea, but I knew I would terribly fail,” you chuckle slightly. Oliver appears behind Lexi, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and you clench your jaw at the gesture. Harry must have noticed the shift in you, because he tightens his hold around you, his hand soothingly running up and down your side. And just like that, Oliver is long forgotten, you can only think about how it feels to have his fingers dancing on you.
“You were never really into athletic things, Y/N,” Oliver comments and you grimace.
“Just because I didn’t play any sports in high school, doesn’t mean I can’t try things now.”
“I think you did great,” Harry smiles down at you. “You just need a little more practice and you’ll be better than me, baby.”
Baby, there’s that pet name again. It’s doing things to you for sure.
Glancing over at Oliver you catch what looks like an eye-rolling and he genuinely looks annoyed by you and Harry and it’s making your blood boil at this point. Why can he be the only one to date someone? Why can’t you have a good time with someone? Now that you are thinking about it, he did it not only with guys, but also with anyone who tried to be friends with you. Oliver wanted him to be your only friend and sneakily ruined every friendship you ever had. Sandra is your first real friend other than Oliver, only because he couldn’t do anything against you forming any kind of relationship with your roommate. But you are now getting quite fed up with his little games and Harry might not be your real boyfriend, but you are friends with him and Oliver can do nothing about that.
Soon enough you decide you’ve had enough of the skating, so you move to the side and start changing back to your shoes. Lexi runs out to the restroom and while you are putting your sneakers back on Harry spots someone he knows, working at the buffet so he steps aside for a minute, leaving you and Oliver alone.
“Are you really dating him?” you hear him speak up and you can’t help the scowl on your face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He is just so not the type of person you hang out with,” he comments with a shrug and your eyebrows shoot up.
“First of all, how would you know? My friends were always kind of more your friends, never really had the chance to find my people. And second, what’s the problem with him?”
“The problem is that we all know what he is like. Everyone on campus knows that Harry is famous for going after a lot of girls.”
“And you believe what others say? You know nothing about him. He is not what people try to make him appear to be, but you wouldn’t know, because you don’t know him like I do. And for the record, yes, I really am dating him and I’m very happy about it.”
You can tell he doesn’t like your reaction and he is probably fighting back to snap at you, but Harry soon returns, oblivious to the scene that just went down, however he can sense the shift in the atmosphere immediately.
“Everything alright?” he asks, seemingly innocently, but you know he is asking if Oliver has done something.
“Yeah. Can we leave?” you ask, not too keen on staying with Oliver any longer. It’s getting hard to imagine how you could ever put up with him and his act.
“Are you guys leaving? We could grab a bite together!” Lexi chimes in arriving back from the restroom. You are about to decline, but Harry speaks up before you.
“Oh, we have plans already, but maybe some other time,” he politely says, a hand on your lower back as he pulls you to his side and you’re thankful for his close presence now. If he weren’t there, you would have already jumped at Oliver’s throat probably.
“Oh, okay! I’m glad we got to do this though,” she smiles warmly, taking Oliver’s hand while you just chew on the inside of your cheeks, very keen on leaving as soon as possible.
Your force a smile on your face, bidding goodbye before Harry takes your hand and the two of you head out to his car.
“Hey, everything okay?” he asks when it’s finally just the two of you. Staring down at your hands on your lap, you bite into your bottom lip.
“Just… let’s leave. I had enough of Oliver for a life today,” you mumble and luckily, Harry doesn’t try to keep asking around, just starts the car and leaves.
On the way he asks if you still want to come over to the frat house and you say yes, because you feel like you could use the distraction. You’d rather spend some more time around him than go back to your dorm room and be alone with your thoughts.
Just as he promised, it’s nothing big, just a few close friends of some of the frat boys, pizza boxes are piled in the kitchen, music is playing in the background but it’s not blasting like when it’s a party. A big group is playing UNO in the living room using two deck of cards so the rounds don’t end too soon.
You and Harry get a slice of pizza, already starving after the skating and when you’re done with that, the two of you wander into the living room. There’s no more room left on the mismatched couches so Harry plops himself down to the ground and you stop for a moment, because there’s someone sitting on both of his sides, leaving not much space for you, but he is quick to solve the problem by taking your hand and pulling you down so you sit between his legs, your back pressed against his chest.
“Oh,” you breathe out from the sudden contact, but it feels nice. You cross your legs so his legs can bridge over them with his knees bent as he looks over your shoulders to see the game unfold.
“You guys want to play?” one of the girls asks.
“There’s not enough cards for the both of them to join!” another warns.
“We’ll just play together,” Harry speaks up from behind you and in the next round you join the game.
Harry rests his chin on your shoulder as his arms come around you, holding the cards so you can see them as well. It’s the closest he has been to you, basically wrapped around you and it’s definitely doing things to you. The way his chest warms your back, how you can feel every breath he draws because his face is so close next to yours, how his arms cage you gently, you are suddenly aware of even the smallest things.
“Pick one,” he murmurs when it’s your turn to throw a card in. You’ve been so occupied with him that you have no idea what color or number you should pick so you quickly check the deck in the middle before pointing at a red card. “Throw it in,” he tells you, pushing the card up with his thumb so you can take it and put it to the top.
Sitting here, on the floor of his frat house, his arms around you feels so much better than anything you’ve experienced with Oliver and the realization hits you hard in the chest. Turning your head to the side you let yourself take a good look at his perfect side profile, his chiseled jawline, the bridge of his nose and the little wrinkle between his eyebrows as he knits them together in focus, staring down at the cards in his hands. He catches you looking, his green eyes meet yours and a soft smile spreads across his face.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head.
“Everything alright?” he quietly asks and you nod.
“Yeah,” you breathe out turning back, but you still feel his lingering gaze on you for a few more moments before he turns away too.
You keep playing as the night moves on, drinking some beer, making you relax even more, though Harry’s closeness does the job just perfectly. Even when you are not sitting on the ground anymore, he always keeps close to you. Curling an arm around your waist when you stand in the kitchen talking with others, he keeps giving your hands and hips assuring little squeezes and you can’t help but lean into his touch every time. You want him close, you want to feel his touch, you love it when your eyes meet and he always shoots you a small smile, it makes your heart flutter, like you’re a little school girl with a silly crush.
Because now you are more than sure that you’re crushing on Harry. How can you not? He has been so good to you, did more than Oliver has ever done and you’ve been friends for just a few weeks.
You leave him for just a few minutes while you use the bathroom and as you return, you catch some of the conversation he is having with one of the boys, Jake.
“Dude, can’t believe the ladies’ favorite Styles is taken,” Jake laughs and it makes you scowl as you stop at the corner, listening on them.
“Jake, I told you to stop calling me that,” Harry huffs.
“I’m just telling you the truth. Every girl on campus is after you.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with me being in a relationship.”
“I just thought that the womanizer Harry Styles wouldn’t settle again for a while.”
“Jake, I’m not a womanizer, stop this bullshit. Just because girls try to get together with me, doesn’t mean I want the same thing.”
You choose this moment to walk in, knowing well Harry must be losing his patience with Jake and his irrelevant accusations. Walking in you smile warmly at Harry, curling an arm around his waist as you lean into his side. His arm comes around your shoulders and he pulls you close. Jake eyes you with an unreadable expression before his gaze returns to Harry.
“Hope you know what you are doing, mate.”
“I surely do,” Harry firmly answers and it makes you smile, especially because you know what they’ve been talking about.
When Jake walks out you turn to face Harry, playfully poking his tummy as you glance up at him.
“Hey,” you smile up at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as his hands fall to your shoulders.
“Hey,” he chuckles. “Why are you so smiley?”
“I can’t smile?”
“Of course you can,” he smirks. “Want to go back a little more?” he asks nodding towards the living room where there are still quite a few people. You nod and let go of him, turning around you are just about to walk ahead but you didn’t see that a girl was coming inside and you bump right into her, the liquid from her cup spilling down your shirt.
“Shit!” you gasp jumping back, colliding a little with Harry’s chest and his hands immediately grab your waist in case you might lose your balance.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” the girl stutters, reaching for paper towels right away, but it helps nearly nothing.
“It’s fine,” you breathe out pressing your lips together.
“Come on, I’ll give you a shirt,” Harry tells you, taking your hand, walking you upstairs. The fabric of your shirt is turning cold against your skin and you really want to get rid of it.
Harry pulls out a simple black shirt for you and shows you the way to his little bathroom. Changing into his shirt you make an attempt to wash yours out, but it doesn’t do much to the sugary spill.
“Do you mind if I stay in it for the rest of the evening? I promise I’ll give it back next time we meet.”
“Sure,” Harry smiles and you catch his gaze wandering down your body, his shirt hanging loosely on your frame. “Do you still want to stay or do you want me to give you a ride back to the dorm?”
“Uh, maybe I should head home,” you nod to yourself.
“Is it okay if I take a quick shower? I feel so sweaty after the skating, just five minutes.”
“Sure, go ahead,” you nod smiling before he disappears in the bathroom.
You hear him turn the water on and walking over to his bed you lie down for a little, feeling the tiredness coming over you all at once. It’s been a long and exhausting day and listening to the soothing voice of the running water you find yourself drifting off to sleep before you could stop yourself.
When you open your eyes again the room is completely dark, but you quickly realize it’s not your dorm room; you’re still at Harry’s. Turning to the side you see him sleeping peacefully on the other side of the mattress, lying on his back. Still groggy with sleep, you realize you fell asleep while he was in the shower and he probably didn’t want to wake you so just went to bed next to you.
He looks like an angel sleeping, his green irises hidden from the world, thick lashes fanned over his cheeks, his pink lips slightly parted as his chest rises and falls peacefully. Sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes, seeing him next to you, he is all you can think about and it brings a smile to your face.
Gently, you scoot closer to him, but still don’t touch him, however the movement makes him huff in his sleep and turning to his side his arm falls across your waist, making you gasp in surprise. You freeze, thinking that he might wake up any moment but it doesn’t happen and you’re stuck in his hold, not that you mind it. You push yourself a little closer, your nose almost touching his chest as you make yourself comfortable and closing your eyes you go back to sleep without a worry in the world.
Waking up you find yourself curled up to Harry’s side, one of his army around you while the other is holding your hand on his stomach. Blinking your eyes open you look around and take a few seconds to fully wake up. Harry feels so warm against you, but you think he might not like to find you all melted against him so you try to move away but his hold tightens around you.
“Mmm, stop movin’ around,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Sorry, I just thought that… you might feel hot,” you lie in a whisper.
“I am hot,” he smirks with his eyes still closed and his comment makes you laugh.
“And so full of yourself!” you chuckle and try to pull away once again, but he locks you to his side, not letting you break the position you are in.
“I said stop movin’! I like being warm in the morning,” he murmurs, snuggling you more to his side and you bite into your bottom lip as your smile stretches wider with each passing second.
Yeah, you definitely have a crush on Harry and you can’t even act like you don’t.
“Sorry for falling asleep in your bed,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you let your head rest on his chest.
“Y’ looked cute,” he huffs with a soft smile. “S’alright. Give me five minutes and I’ll be awake to drive you back to the dorm.”
You hum a response and just enjoy it while it lasts, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. But you have to. Slowly, the two of you get ready to leave, you want to change back to your stained shirt, but Harry tells you to just keep the shirt, he has two more of the exact same one so you walk out of the frat house wearing Harry’s shirt, holding Harry’s hand and get into Harry’s car. He is everywhere and you absolutely love it.
“So we have this game next weekend and I thought you might want to come? You don’t have to if you absolutely hate football, I just thought—“
“I would love to,” you say cutting his rambling short as he smiles with his eyes staring ahead at the road.
“Cool. Bring your roommate if you want.”
“Sure,” you smile.
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Football has never been your thing, but watching Harry is, so the game turns out better than you expected. Sandra tags along and luckily, she knows a little more about the game than you do, so you can ask her questions whenever you are completely lost about the happenings. Though you don’t know much about what a good player should be like, but it’s still clear to you that Harry is one of them. He scores half the points of his team and you are guessing that’s quite fascinating.
“Am I just dreaming or does he keep looking your way?” Sandra questions after you also just caught Harry’s gaze on you a moment ago.
“So what if he is?” you ask with a shy smile, eyes glued to his running frame on the field.
“Are you guys like… really together?”
“No,” you shake your head. “We are just friends,” you add, the term tasting a little bitter on your tongue.
“But you want more.” It’s not a question, Sandra can see right through you. Glancing at her you let out a huff before turning back at the game.
“It’s hard not to,” you truthfully admit, your eyes following Harry’s every movement on the field. Looking around you see that you are probably not the only one. Half of the girls on the bleachers are staring at him and you can’t even blame them. You have to be blind and stupid at the same time not to like him and apparently, you’re neither.
They win, no surprise. The whole team goes crazy as they score their last point and it puts them in the lead in the last minute. Everyone is cheering and screaming at the boys as they are celebrating their victory, along with Harry.
Jake starts running up and down the bleachers shouting that they are throwing a victory party at the frat house so now you know what you’re gonna do for the rest of the evening. As the team makes its way back towards the locker rooms Harry runs up to you, all sweaty and grinning crazily.
“Hey, you coming for the party, right?” he asks, still breathing heavily from the game.
“Sure,” you chuckle.
“Yes! You guys want a ride?” he asks in excitement glancing at Sandra beside you.
“That would be nice,” she nods happily.
“Alright, meet me at my car in fifteen,” he breathes out and before he runs away, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, then leaves in a rush, catching up with the other guys. Suddenly, it feels a lot hotter than before…
“Okay, there’s no way he is not into you too,” Sandra mumbles to you as the two of you head out to the parking lot.
“You think so?”
“Oh, I know so,” she laughs, folding her arms on her chest. “That guy is like a puppy in love around you.”
“What if it’s just his normal?”
“I don’t know, is it? You’re the one who spends every possible minute with him,” she points out and she is right. This wasn’t like this before and as far as you know, he was never like this with anyone either. The only person you saw him act similarly was Naomi when they were dating, so could this be a hint for you that he feels the same way?
You’re still chewing on it when Harry emerges from the building, carrying his huge sports bag on his shoulder, his locks still wet from the shower he must have taken, his smile is still as wide as it was after the game.
“Ladies, fancy a ride?” he asks and as he walks past you he squeezes your hand gently before rounding the car and sitting behind the wheel.
By the time you arrive to the frat house the party is already on, music blasting in the living room where not so long ago you were playing UNO, sitting in Harry’s arms, booze is piling in the kitchen and more and more people are showing up.
“Hey, can you come up with me to drop my bag off and change?” Harry asks upon walking into the house and you nod. Sandra gives you a look that says ‘man up and talk to him’ before you take Harry’s hand and the two of you head upstairs.
“Be honest, did you bore yourself to death at the game?” Harry asks when you’re in the safety of his room.
“It wasn’t that bad, though I definitely need to learn more about the rules,” you chuckle admitting as you sit on the edge of his bed while he moves around, putting away his stuff. You watch him with a fluttering heart as you think about your conversation with Sandra. Even if she is right, how do you bring it up? You can’t just simply drop that you would like to turn your fake relationship into something real, you are not ballsy enough for that anyway.
“I’ll change quickly and we can head out,” he smiles, grabbing his usual skinny jeans and a white shirt from his dresser before disappearing in his bathroom.
While he is in there, you try to build your courage up to have the talk with him. Now seems like a good time, you’re alone in his room, no audience in case he rejects you painfully so no one would witness your breakdown. Chewing on the inside of your cheeks you stand up and start pacing the floor, stopping when the door opens and he walks out, smiling at you warmly as he fixes the dog tag around his neck.
“Everything alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“I, uhh… I wanted to talk about something,” you start shyly, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
“Okay, go for it,” he nods walking closer.
“I just, I’M not sure how to bring this up, and I hope it won’t sound weird. But I’ve been thinking about, um—I thought about this, what we’ve been doing and I realized that I—“
Your rambling speech gets interrupted when Jake bursts into the room without even a knock or warning word.
“Dude, come down! We need you on our beerpong team!” he urges Harry who gives him an annoyed look.
“Jake, don’t just fucking barge into my room without knocking!” Harry snaps at him.
“Like I haven’t seen your dick before,” Jake snorts and you feel the heat crawling up your neck at even just the thought of Harry naked.
“I don’t fucking care, knock!”
“Okay!” Jake growls rolling his eyes. “But you gotta come down now!”
Harry looks back at you, knowing well you two were in the middle of a conversation, but Jake’s arrival threw you off completely.
“Go, we can… talk later, it’s not that important,” you smile at him weakly.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his hand taking yours.
“Yeah, totally. Just go and celebrate your win,” you chuckle and with that, the moment is already gone.
You return to the party and while Harry gets sucked into an epic beerpong game, you join Sandra in the living room, who eyes you with a curious look, but you just shake your head.
“Don’t even ask,” you mumble and grabbing her drink from her hand you take a big swig from it, hoping the alcohol might help you with your anxious thoughts.
An hour later you feel the buzz, but you’re not at all drunk, just a little… braver than usually. You’ve moved to the kitchen with Sandra and a few girls, you’re sitting on the counter, nursing another drink as you listen to one of the girls rage about her asshole ex. Glancing out of the kitchen your eyes find Harry standing in the living room and for your surprise he was already watching you. You catch his smile, his focus completely on you when the guys are talking to him in his little circle, but he doesn’t seem to care. His gaze brings the heat back into your body, he can make you go nuts with just a look and you want to hate him for that, but you can’t. There’s nothing you hate about this guy.
“Stop eyefucking your man and just… fuck him for real” Sandra chuckles leaning closer to you, so only you can hear her words.
“Sandra!” you gasp, smacking her in the boob knowing well she hates it when you do that. She just cackles, returning to the discussion with the girls.
Soon enough, you see Harry moving towards your little group, creeping his way into the kitchen, stopping right beside you, leaning on one arm, his hand placed dangerously close to your thigh on the counter.
“Hi,” he smiles with his rosy cheeks, he surely has drunk some as well, but he doesn’t seem drunk either.
“Hi,” you breathe out, feeling flustered by his closeness again, a smile stretching across your face as he keeps eyeing you grinning. “What?”
“Have I told you how cute your smile is?” he asks and now you’re sure you’ve turned into a tomato.
“No,” you mumble shyly and almost gasp when his hand moves from the counter to your thighs as if it was the most natural thing, but it sends a shiver down your spine.
“Well, it is cute,” he chuckles, before turning his attention at the conversation in the little circle, but his hand remains still on your thigh.
From there, the situation escalates pretty easily. All it takes him to get between your thighs is to reach for one of the drinks on the counter next to you, his hand still resting on your thigh, and as he is done with the drink, he places it to the counter, his other hand coming to your other thigh, now standing facing you between your legs. Before you could say anything, he pulls on you a little, so you press up against him, your hands instantly coming to grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself in the movement.
“Hi again,” he smirks with glistening eyes.
“You didn’t go anywhere,” you chuckle quietly, your fingers dancing up to the back of his neck, playing with his curls.
“I know, but it made you smile and that’s what I wanted,” he smirks, so proud of himself. He licks his lips and you catch his gaze wandering down to yours, instantly making you nervous as you think back at the failed conversation you had with him not so long ago. This feels like a moment that could head into a direction you are dying for, but without the talk, you’re not sure if you should take the risky step.
Good thing that Harry is not shying out of it. Pressing forward his forehead meets yours, noses muzzling together as his lips linger so close to yours. You suck on your breath, arms curling around his neck as you wait for him to move the last millimeters between the two of you, and seeing that you are not pulling back, Harry makes the final move.
His lips move perfectly against yours, so warm and welcoming, soft and intoxicating, kissing him feels like a gift from above. He is taking his time with you, tasting and savoring you and you’re definitely not complaining. You could spend the rest of your life kissing him and you’d be fine with it.
One of his hands stays on your thigh, keeping a firm grip on it while the other one moves up to cup your cheek as you angle your head to reach him perfectly. He licks into your mouth without warning and you almost let out a moan at the sensation, but you’re just too busy returning his kisses.
You have absolutely no idea how long you stay like that, kissing and touching each other, but when he pulls back, you can’t help the stupid grin on your love drunk face. Harry’s expression kind of mirrors yours as he pecks your swollen lips once more before getting back to his previous position, his hand never leaving your thigh and you hug his strong, tattooed arm, needing to touch him in any kind of way as the two of you reenter the discussion that never stopped. Sandra gives you a wide-eyed stare and you just bite into your bottom lip, turning into a giggly teenage girl all of a sudden.
For just a few minutes you are absolutely convinced the kiss was real, but that’s all you got. As you look into the living room you catch Naomi’s burning stare and it tells you right away she witnessed the whole scene and to make it even worse, Oliver was standing not too far, glaring at you firmly and they make you think.
What if Harry saw them near and kissed you just to mess with them? What if it was all just part of the act? You should have pressed more earlier and have that damned talk with him, how are you supposed to ask now if he meant it or not?!
The more you think about it, the more painful it becomes and the little evil voice in your head convinces you that he didn’t mean it. It’s not like you want to believe it, but you can’t ignore the possibility that slowly grows into reality in your clouded mind.
You lose both Harry and Sandra at one point after going to the bathroom and though you know they are somewhere around, you feel like you can’t stay any longer at the party. Before anyone could stop you, you sneak out of the house and head back to the dorm, hoping that a good night sleep would get your head straight.
Harry tries to call you, but you ignore them all, heading straight to bed when you arrive. You feel guilty for leaving without a word but there’s just too much going on in your head, you need time to process and figure out what to do.
You’re still up when Sandra arrives back but you pretend to be asleep, not feeling like dealing with her investigating questions about the kiss and why you left so suddenly. It takes over an hour for you to finally fall asleep and escape your buzzing thoughts.
Waking up you see no sign of Sandra and you remember she mentioned that her brother is visiting town so they might spend the day together. Amazing opportunity to bury yourself into your deep loneliness and try to figure out what to do.
Harry has been nonstop texting you, asking if you even made it back to the dorm safely and you just shoot him one message to let him know you’re still alive and then ignore him again. Thinking back at the kiss last night your heart flutters every time, you can still feel the touch of his lips, the way his hand cupped your cheeks, it’s driving you crazy. But then you remember seeing Naomi’s and Oliver’s face and you’re convinced Harry saw them too and you always get to the same conclusion: the kiss was just part of the act.
You barely leave the bed the whole day, lying under your covers and watching Netflix until your mind feels numb enough to stop torturing you with your thoughts. And then, there’s a knock on the door. You freeze, knowing well that whoever is on the other side, you don’t want to see them.
“Y/N, I know you’re in there, I heard you watching The Vampire Diaries,” Oliver’s voice calls out from outside and you let out a shaky breath.
Dragging yourself out of the bed you open the door and stare back at him with a blank expression.
“What do you want?” you simply question.
“I broke up with Lexi,” he answers and your eyebrows shoot up. Without asking for permission he pushes his way into the room, stopping in the middle with his hands on his hips. “Last night, I broke up with her.”
“I uhh—I’m sorry, I guess, but why? She was so sweet.”
“I miss you, Y/N,” he blurts out and your shock just raises. Did he just admit to breaking up with his girlfriend because of you?!
“What?”
“Lexi is a nice girl, but I miss you, I miss what we had.”
“And what is that supposed to be?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you fold your arms on your chest. “You miss fucking me whenever it’s convenient for you? Because I certainly don’t miss that.”
“We both know it was more than that, Y/N,” he smiles warmly, but it makes your stomach churn. Nothing about that smile is friendly or nice, he is trying to manipulate you like so many times before, but it’s not working now. He lost his power over you.
“It wasn’t. You were using me, Oliver.”
“That’s not what it was. We were having fun!”
“I wasn’t! I had feelings for you and you used them for your benefit!” you snap at him, not in the mood to play by his rules any longer. You’ll not let him bring you down again. “A friend doesn’t do that.”
“You could have spoken up against it, but I didn’t hear you complaining,” he retorts and it feels like a slap across your face. “I know you miss it too, Y/N. You don’t have to act like you are into Harry, I can see through you.”
“Oh really?” you snort, finding his words rather comedic. He knows or sees absolutely nothing and he just proved it. “Tell me then what you see!”
“I see that you’ve been trying to make me jealous and I’m gonna give it to you, it was successful.”
“Amazing, only problem is that I never wanted to make you jealous. My feelings for Harry are more real than the ones I had for you and I would really like it if you just left right now.”
Grabbing the doorknob you hold it open for him, wanting nothing more than to get rid of him for once and for all. You’ve had enough of his toxic, manipulating ass for a lifetime.
“Are you really kicking me out and just gonna choose him over me?” he huffs in disbelief and you can tell you’ve hurt his ego pretty badly.
“I’m choosing myself and doing what’s best for me. Now leave,” you demand and he finally moves. Walking past you he stops and looks down at you one more time.
“You’re a fucking waste of time,” he sneers before walking out and you need every ounce of power in you not to go after him and punch him in his arrogant face. How could you ever consider him even a friend, let along sleep with him?! He is the most disgusting and degrading asshole you’ve ever seen and you’ll work on forgetting about his whole existence for the rest of your life.
You shut the door behind him and leaning your back against it you slide down to the floor, feeling your chest tightening at the intensity of what just happened. You lost the person you loved the most just weeks ago and realized that he was never who you thought him to be.
You feel like crying for a little, but the tears never come. Instead, a soft sense of relief washes over you, like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, finally setting you free. One less thing to worry about.
As you push yourself up from the floor you hear fractions of a heated conversation outside and when you recognize both voices, your heart stops beating for a moment. Opening the door you hear the conversation between Oliver and Harry now fully clear.
“Stop fucking acting like you are the center of her world, Styles. She has no fucking idea what she wants,” Oliver snaps at Harry, clearly upset about something he said earlier.
“No one thinks that but you! Stop harassing her like a fucking psycho!” Harry fights back and your lips part at how he stands up for you.
“You’re the one harassing her! Don’t think for a moment you have a chance with her, she wants me, not you! You’ll never get into her pants like I did—“
Just when you’re about to barge out of the room to end whatever parade they are having, Oliver’s groan fills the hallway and as you step out, you see him fall to the ground after Harry’s has punched him right in the face.
“What the fuck?!” you snap in shock and they both turn to look at you in the middle of their fight.
“Your fucking boyfriend punched me for no reason!” Oliver spats, pushing himself up, holding a hand to his jaw that’s already turning red.
“Stop making yourself the victim, Oliver, no one buys it!” you groan at him as you step to Harry. He seems ashamed, even scared of your reaction about the fact that he just punched Oliver, but you are not gonna blame him. He did God’s work in this case.
“I can’t fucking believe you’re still taking his side!” Oliver snaps angrily. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”
“Shut up and leave!” you shout at him before grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulling him towards your room.
You hear Oliver mumbling something under his breath, but you couldn’t care less, shutting the door at him once again, this time with Harry in the room with you.
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just fucking lost my temper and—“ You wave him off, taking his hand in yours softly, taking a look at his knuckles.
“It’s fine,” you smile at him. “Does it hurt?” you ask, gently running your thumb over his reddened knuckles.
“No, it’s alright,” he murmurs, standing so close to you again. His green eyes search yours as his other hand reaches under your chin to lift your head. “You have been ignoring me since last night.”
“I just… had a lot of stuff to do,” you awkwardly answer clearing your throat.
“You sure it’s not because of what happened between us?”
“What? Of course not!” you huff. “I get it, you were just trying to make it convincing because Naomi and Oliver were both watching a-and so you just—“
“What?” Harry asks tilting his head to the side.
“I mean, that’s why you did it, right? I saw them after we—uhh after we you know, kissed.”
“Okay, I didn’t see them and that’s not why I did it,” he admits with a nervous chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought we were on the same page, but apparently not. Y/N, nothing I did recently was because of Naomi or Oliver. If I’m being honest it hasn’t been about them for a while. I really like you and I know I should have talked to you first about it, because now it was all kind of confusing, but I wasn’t faking it. I meant everything I said and did.”
You stare back at him in awe, heart pounding against your chest as his words sink in. He wasn’t acting, the kiss was real and you’ve been acting like a lunatic since last night, completely ignoring him instead of just talking to him, you are such a dumbass!
“Really?” you breathe out, barely more than just a whisper.
“Yeah,” he chuckles softly. “And I kinda thought you feel the same way, but then I came here and ran into Oliver who told me you two just had a chat about… possibilities between you and him?”
The hurt is clear in his eyes and your hatred towards Oliver is not on maximum level. You can’t believe he tried to ruin it all one last time even after you told him you want nothing to do with him.
“That’s not what we talked about,” you shake your head. “He came here, told me he broke up with Lexi and that he misses me, but I told him that’s too bad because I don’t miss him and his stupid little games anymore.”
“Oh!”
“And he tried to convince me to choose him over you, but I already chose you, so he had no chance,” you add, a wide smile spreading across your face as you see him realize what you just said.
“What, does this mean…?” he questions with sparkling eyes as he starts inching closer to you.
“Last night, when Jake barged into your room, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. That I’m not really faking anything anymore, but we were rudely interrupted and then… you kissed me and I thought things were finally going right, but then I somehow convinced myself that it was just because you saw Naomi and Oliver around and tried to upset them.”
“Fuck them!” Harry laughs, his hands finally reaching to grab you by your waist as he pulls you against him. “I don’t care about them anymore. I just want to be with you, no faking, no acting, just… you and me.”
“That sounds… perfect,” you admit with a tired smile before he finally leans down and presses his lips against yours.
“I have a warning for you, Y/N,” he mumbles between kisses, his lips moving against yours.
“Yeah? What’s that?” you hum, melting into him.
“I will not stop kissing you. It’s my new favorite thing,” he giggles, hands pulling you even tighter to him.
“Oh, how upsetting!” you chuckle without a care in the world before the two of you fall to your bed, a mess of kisses and giggles, but not an ounce of faking.
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gukyi · 4 years
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the love project | jjk
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summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.
{college!au, friends to lovers!au}
pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!
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These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 
At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.
Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 
Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 
Your best friend would have to disagree.
“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”
“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”
“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”
He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.
Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 
Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 
But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.
“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”
Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 
He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 
“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 
“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”
“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”
“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”
“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”
“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 
“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”
Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.
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There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 
The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 
So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 
“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 
It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 
“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 
“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.
“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”
“What do you have to do?”
Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”
You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 
“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”
“Oh,” You say dumbly. 
“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”
“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 
Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”
“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”
“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”
“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 
“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”
He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 
Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 
“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”
“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”
He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.
“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”
“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 
“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”
“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.
You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 
Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 
Click.
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“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?
From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”
“Well, how many do you have now?”
It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.
You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 
“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 
“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 
Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 
It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 
He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 
“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?
“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”
“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”
You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”
“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”
“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”
 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 
“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”
Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 
The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 
When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.
“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.
“I never want to miss anything.”
“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”
“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”
“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?
“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”
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At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 
You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 
Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 
Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 
This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 
It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 
“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 
“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”
“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 
You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.
“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”
“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 
“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”
“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.
“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”
Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”
“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”
“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 
You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 
The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.
“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 
“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 
You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”
You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 
“Y/N!”
You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 
Another voice breaks you from your trance. 
“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 
The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 
“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”
“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 
Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 
“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”
The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”
Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 
“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”
“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”
“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 
What do you not know?
By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.
This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?
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Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.
You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 
Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 
Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.
Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.
So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.
An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 
And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.
The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.
“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.
The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 
“Whoa.”
“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 
“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”
“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”
“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”
“Yeah.”
It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 
“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”
“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”
“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 
“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”
Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”
“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”
“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”
“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”
You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 
“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”
“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 
Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”
He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 
Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 
And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 
Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 
You wonder what he sees. 
(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)
“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.
You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 
“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”
Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 
“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”
There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.
“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”
Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 
For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 
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The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 
You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 
[November 7th, 8:48PM]
You: you still game for that movie?
[November 7th, 8:50PM]
Jungkook: you finished your date already?
You: is that a yes or a no
Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that
You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over
The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.
Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 
But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 
Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 
“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 
“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 
“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 
You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”
“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 
“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”
Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 
Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 
“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”
“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”
To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 
He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 
“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.
Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 
Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”
The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 
“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 
“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 
Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 
“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 
The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 
“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 
“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”
“I want to see it.”
“What? My project?”
“What else?”
“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”
You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”
“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”
“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”
“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?
“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 
“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 
You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 
“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.
Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”
And that’s good enough for you. 
You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.
You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.
“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”
“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”
“How do you know what feels right?”
Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 
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The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 
So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?
Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 
The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 
Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 
Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 
Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?
Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 
“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”
“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 
Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 
You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 
Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 
As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 
The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 
There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 
What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?
Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 
What?
Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?
Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 
This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 
This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?
Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 
“Y/N?”
You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 
“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 
“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 
“Uh—”
“Were you reading my computer screen?”
It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 
“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 
(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 
If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 
I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)
“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 
“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 
“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”
“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 
“So you are hiding something?”
“That’s not the point, the point is that—”
“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”
“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 
He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 
“Jungkook—?”
“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”
“Know what? What would I know?” 
Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”
The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 
“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”
You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”
Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”
“And you are mine,” you remind him. 
“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”
“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”
And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 
You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 
But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 
He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 
He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 
By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 
“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.
“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”
Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 
You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 
“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”
“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”
“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”
“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”
“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”
“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 
It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 
“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”
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What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?
Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.
Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?
Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 
This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?
Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”
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inkandpen22 · 3 years
Text
The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 6)
Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader  / Topper x Female!Reader  
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Swearing, mild smut, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse (wow a lot) 
Part Summary: The aftermath of the bonfire is pushing you to your limit. Meanwhile, JJ is slowly losing himself in his grief. 
Masterlist
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You and Topper meet your friends at the Ocean Club for lunch as arranged over text after the chaos at the Boneyard. You, Rafe, Rhett, Kelce, and Topper are all gathered around the table on the patio of the club. Despite looking put-together, you're all discombobulated in the head. All of your Kook friends are startled, to say the least by the events. More than half of them have never been close to a gun and all of them share a hatred of Pogues. 
Your brother Rhett invited his "friend" Crystal.  She's been fawning after him since their freshman year. They hooked up one time and she was practically picking out an engagement ring. She hangs around Rhett, Rafe, and all of their friends, hoping one of them would show a slight bit of interest. Her bottle black hair and bottle tan scream more New Jersey than OBX, but she throws on a Lily Politzer dress calls herself a Kook. She's always been low-key intimidated by you and envious even. She wants your title of the Princess of the OBX, but she struggles to get past being an associate. In summary, Crystal thinks acting like a stuck-up brat is how to be a Kook. She's delusional.
"Last night was unreal,” Kelce exhales deeply as he leans back in his chair. 
“You know how Pogues can be,” Topper remarks bitterly, placing his arm across your shoulders. 
"Where were you last night?" Rafe questions your brother from down the table. 
"My dad had me in Charleston on business," Rhett explains with a roll of his eyes. 
Crystal places her hand on Rhett's arm, giving it a supportive squeeze. The sight nearly makes you gag. Never in a million years will you call her your sister-in-law. 
"Lucky you," Kelce chuckles. 
"Yeah you really dodged a bullet," Rafe makes a pun. 
"Nice Rafe," Topper nods his head slowly, giving his friend a disapproving look. 
You toss around bits of lettuce around your salad, not exactly hungry. You wouldn't be here right now if Topper didn't already say you two were coming. It's not that you dislike your friends. You just don't feel like a review of last night and a Pogue roast session. Topper notices your lack of voice and interest in the group. He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, gaining your attention. You offer him a weak smile, your mind elsewhere. 
“At least Maybank has what’s coming to him. Apparently, the police are looking for him," Crystal announces to the table. 
Your fork slips from your hand accidentally, causing everyone to stare at you. “Wait, what?!" You glance between the girl and Topper to see if it's true. Topper doesn't react despite seeing your worried expression. Did Topper already know this? Did he not tell you? 
Rafe frowns at your reaction and his flicker to Topper before he answers. “Yeah, people told their parents what happened and the parents reported the incident to the police," he explains hesitantly. 
"As they should!” Crystal adds with a scoff of disgust, wearing a smug expression. “Who knows what that good-for-nothing white trash would’ve done to us if given the chance!" She justifies from across the table. 
“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Crystal!” You snap. 
Everyone's jaws drop, astounded that such a vile sentence could come from your lips. 
“Ugh! Excuse me?!” Crystal gasps. 
You lean forward in your chair, turning your body to face the entitled girl. 
“What? Are you deaf all of a sudden?" You wear a mocking grin. "Wouldn’t be surprised with your big loud fucking mouth going constantly!” 
“What’s up your ass Whitfield?!” She fires back, drawing the attention of some other patrons. 
“Your piece of shit attitude!” You bark. 
"Ohh," Kelce drags out. 
"Wow," Rafe struggles to hide his amusement. 
Topper places a warning hand on your shoulder which you shake off. 
“Why are you defending him? He pulled a gun on Topper! On you!” Crystal reminds you in a shout. 
“I know that, Genius! Considering I was on the other side of said gun!” You hiss between your teeth. 
“Then what possible justification is there for what he did?" She huffs. "JJ Maybank is insane! A trash Pogue!” 
You slap your palms against the table, making everything raddle. “No, he’s not!” 
"Y/N!" Your brother warns. "Remember where you are!" 
You don't give a shit about where you are! If this girl continues to run her mouth, you're going to do a lot worse than yell. 
“What? What is it about him, huh?" Crystal presses with a wicked smirk. "A charity thing? Wealthy guilt? Rooting for the underdog?” 
“Crystal!” Rafe barks her name defensively. 
“What?” The girl giggles. "It's true, isn't it? She's got a thing for the bottom feeder!" 
“Back off!” Topper warns her, finally backing you up. He may agree with her, but once she starts making digs at you he doesn't hesitate to put her in her place. 
Then, a lightbulb snaps on in her head. “Oh wait... or is it that you have the hots for him? Have you officially run out of guys on this side of the island? You a Pogue whore now?” She laughs mockingly. 
Having enough of her, you impulsively pick up your full glass of white wine and toss it in her face. She gasps as the liquid covers her, her mouth in the shape of an "O." The boys' jaws hit the table as all they can do is watch you toss your drink at her white tube top. 
"Y/N!" Topper utters your name in shock. This is nothing like you. You never lose your cool. You're always the calm and put together one of your friends. 
"You bitch!" Crystal nearly cries. "This is designer!" 
You groan, tossing your head back. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!" 
“JJ Maybank should be sent to jail with his dad and if he rotted in there I doubt anyone would miss him!” Crystal remarks with a snarky smirk. 
That's it! Without a second thought, you fly up from your chair, causing it to toss backward onto the floor. You leap across the full table, reaching your arms out for the girl. Kelce and Rafe move out the way as Crystal screams. Glasses and silverware fall off the table onto the wood-paneled floor patio floor. Topper moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back, but not before you get a good slap across her face. 
“Woah, Woah, Woah there!” He pants, struggling to get a good hold on you. 
“Let me go!” You scream, wiggling in his arms. 
“Nope, not letting you get arrested today,” he grunts, stepping backward away from the table. 
“You crazy whore!” Crystal yells, holding her cheek. 
 “You’re calling me a whore? That’s ironic considering your name is Crystal! You were practically named for the corner, bitch!” You fire back, tossing up your middle fingers at her while Topper drags you toward the exit. 
“Damn!” Kelce laughs, covering his mouth to hide it. 
You don't care who's watching. Crystal had this coming a long time ago and she's pushed your patience to its limit the moment she touched JJ. She'll know now to never speak of him. 
“Fuck you, Y/N!” Crystal screams one last time. 
Rhett grabs her arm, quietly begging for her to stop. He's certainly pissed at your impolite actions and will likely run to tell your parents. 
“No thanks! I’m not into insecure, loudmouth, prostitutes!” You snap out one final dig before Topper gets you out the door. 
You never noticed Pope cleaning a table just yards away, you were pretty preoccupied. He watched in awe as you quite literally flew across the table and slapped a girl because she spoke wrongly about JJ. After Pope saw you with Topper, he wasn't sure what to think. He was just as confused by your relationship as JJ. The turn of events he's just witnessed sealed the deal in his mind, you're in love with JJ, whether you know it or not. 
________________________________
After his shift at the Club, Pope immediately went to John B's, knowing that's where his friends would be waiting to go out on the HMS Pogue. 
“You guys! You’ll never believe what happened at work today!” He rushes out as he jogs down the dock. 
“All the Kooks got swallowed up by the ocean?” JJ remarks bitterly in a grumble as he lounges on the front of the boat in his swim trunks
“No!” He pants as he slows to a stop. “Y/N and Crystal got into this huge fight!” 
“What?!” John B gasps. 
“What do you mean? Is she okay?!” Kiara questions as she helps Pope onto the boat. 
“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, but it was insane!" Pope laughs in amazement. 
“What about?” Sarah inquires, eager to learn more. 
“JJ!" Pope explains with the utmost enthusiasm. "Crystal was talking shit and the next thing I know Y/N throws her drink in her face and jumps at her. She slaps the hell out of her! Topper literally had to carry her out!” 
“Holy shit,” John B mutters, wide-eyed. 
“God I would’ve paid big bucks to see that,” Kiara chuckles. 
“I can’t even envision Y/N doing something like that,” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief. 
“I know, she’s usually so polite, calm, civilized," Kiara lists. 
“You should’ve seen her guys. It was so badass. Lesson learned, don’t piss of Y/N!" Pope settles down on the bench beside Kiara. 
“It was over me?” JJ finally voices quietly. 
Pope hums. “Crystal wouldn’t stop and Y/N told her to “shut the fuck up.” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Y/N swear,” Sarah admits. 
 “That’s because she rarely does,” John B adds. 
“So she’s not pissed at me?” JJ questions, his tone steady and expressionless. 
“Based on how she was going to claw a girl’s eyes out in your defense, I vote no,” Pope determines. 
JJ stands up in a rush, moving to hop down into the boat. “Well, where did she go after that? Did Topper take her home or did she-" 
“She went looking for you,” you call out from the opposite end of the dock. 
Everyone's heads snap in your direction. All of their eyes are wide with surprise. They all smile, honestly glad to see you. JJ, however, just stares blankly with an unreadable reaction. 
“Hi JJ,” you greet timidly, doing your best to smile but you fall short. 
The boy never breaks his eye contact with you as he jumps off the boat. He marches toward you and you're not sure what to expect. You haven't spoken since last night and you wouldn't exactly call that a conversation. "What do you want? Come to gloat?" He sasses. 
“Okay, that’s our cue!” John B announces, starting up the engine. 
“Yep! We'll catch you guys later!” Pope rushes out. 
“Good to see you Y/N!” Sarah adds.
The Pogues desert JJ, leaving you two to work out your problems. JJ doesn't even turn around or react in the slightest as John B hurries the boat away. An ounce of you wonders if it's because he wants to stay, to talk to you. 
Your eyes flicker down to his chest and torso. The bruises you saw last night as a tad more healed, but still, look awful. Now that his body is more exposed, you start to notice more marks and cuts all over his arms, chest, ribcage. The sight makes your heart sink. Without thought, you place your hand on JJ's stomach. "Did Top do this?" You worry. JJ's muscles clench under your touch. The feeling of your fingertips glide across his bare torso makes him go weak in the knees. 
"No, got into a fight with a bobcat. You should see the bobcat," he smirks slightly, making light of the situation. 
Your face falls as your eyes meet his. "Don't joke-" 
"Sorry!" He steps back. "Can't take you seriously when everything you say is a lie," he scoffs. 
Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "What are you even saying right now?!" 
"It was all bullshit!" He snaps. "All of it! Everything you said! You're no different than the rest of them!" He exhales deeply, taking a moment to stare at you. He immediately regrets yelling considering how guilty he felt after what he did last night. Yet, JJ's hurt and he's pent up these emotions for days now. They're driving him nuts. "You lie, cheat, you take what you want when you want it no matter the consequences or who you hurt!" 
"I never lied to you, JJ!" You defend, equally as passionate as him. "Every fucking word was true!" JJ's brows rise slightly at your use of language. It appearing so foreign coming from your mouth. You sigh, "Jesus, JJ you can be so oblivious sometimes!" You turn on your heels, marching back down the dock toward the yard. 
"At least I'm not playing both sides of the fence! I know what I want and where I belong!" JJ fires. 
You whip your head over your shoulder and stomp back toward him. "You freaking psycho!" 
"Psycho! How am I a psycho?" JJ laughs, astonished. 
"You pulled a gun!" You remind him. 
"He was drowning me, Y/N!" JJ screams, getting in your face. You swallow hard. Despite the intensity of your arguing, you can't help but feel a rush of satisfaction having JJ so close again. JJ looks to the side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not gonna be your little plaything while you wait on Topper of all people to fuck you again," he shakes his head, meeting your gaze again. "I won't do it." 
Your lips part, not believing the words coming from him right now. "Fuck you, JJ," you hiss between your teeth before turning again to walk away. JJ stays where he is and watches you stomp away. A part of him wants to beg you to stay, the other tells himself that you deserve everything he's saying. 
You come to a slow stop as your mind races. You're Y/N Whitfield, you don't have to take this shit, especially from JJ Maybank of all people. You spin on your heels and JJ glances up as you do. "For someone so smart you're an idiot!" You clench your jaw. "Topper is my best friend, that's it!" You reason. "Whatever Sarah told you, that was before I met you! He could never be you!" 
JJ simply stares at you blankly. The silence kills you. One minute he won't shut up and the next he stands there like an idiot. 
"The way I feel when I'm with Topper..." you sigh, unsure how to describe it. You're not entirely what to call it. "It's comfortable, sure, but it's not anything glorious. There's no excitement there, just a sense of security from knowing each other for so long." You hesitate to continue, but since you'll probably never speak again, you might as well lay everything out on the table right? "You don't even have to touch me, your glance is enough to make me feel alive. When I went to bed, I thought of you. When I woke up, I thought of you. You're... you're it for me, JJ. I can't imagine there's anything better than when I'm with you. But... I guess we already fucked it up didn't we?" 
There's a pause between shots and you prepare to walk away from JJ forever. Then, something in him sets off and he starts rushing up to you. Startled, you begin to shuffle back. 
"What are you doing?" You question, placing a hesitant hand up. 
"Showing you how much of an idiot I really am," he replies swiftly as he brings his hands up to cup your face. 
He pauses for a second, looking at you with hooded eyes. You lose all capability of breathing, melting into his hands. You glance down at his parted lips, waiting for what's next. JJ smashing his lips to yours hungrily. Without hesitation, you reciprocate the action, combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.
 You meant every word. Being with Topper can be great and there's so much history there. Yet, being with JJ is entirely different. It's new. It's organic. It's what keeps you awake at night in the best way. You imagine exploring every inch of his body and never letting go. 
JJ breaks from you, pressing his lips to your forehead as his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry, Baby, for everything!" He whispers against your cheek before planting a kiss there. 
"Me too," you reply. 
He pulls back, meeting your gaze. "I don't think you're a slut." 
You laugh, "I sure hope not!"  
"You're too good for me," he shakes his head as he still wonders if this is all in his imagination. 
"Quite the opposite actually," you debate. 
"No, don't say that." He shakes his head frantically, hating it when you speak badly about yourself. "You're everything to me!" 
You place your hands over his on your cheek and plant a kiss on his palm, making JJ totally simp for you. 
"Do you... would you maybe wanna have a little hot tub night?" The boy asks nervously, still kinda unsure of himself when it comes to you. 
"I'd love that," you smile, wanting to spend every moment with him from this day forever. 
_____________________________
Settling in the hot tub, JJ tugs at the rim of your panties, pulling you to sit across his lap. You drape your arms on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his. 
"Are you warm enough?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. 
Hum as your eyes falls shut, pondering the closeness. 
"You're so soft and warm. You're like a human Pillow Pet," he comments with a slight snicker. 
"Excuse me?" You lift your head to look at him. 
"Minus the furry part," he elaborates. 
"You're such a goof." You laugh, placing your palm against his head and pushing it away playfully. 
"Only for you, Baby," JJ grins. 
You place a quick peck on his lips before shifting to move off of his lap. 
JJ pouts, letting out a minor whine. "Uh uh, don't leave." 
"I'm just grabbing my drink," you giggle at his childlike expression. As you take a sip from your beer, you can feel JJ watching you. You glance over your shoulder and sure enough, his eyes remain locked on your ass. "You're starring," you smirk. 
"You bet your amazing ass I am," he mumbles, reaching across the water and grabbing your ass, giving it a squeeze. 
"JJ!" You gasp, swatting his hand away. 
He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jaw as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you back to him. "Couldn't help myself! It was practically begging for a squeeze." 
"Right..." You nod, straddling his lap. 
As an act of retaliation, you press your palm to the center of his boxers, making the boy jolt lightly from surprise. 
"Holy shit," he swallows hard. 
"Couldn't help myself, it was practically begging for it," you smirk, repeating his words. 
"You're too good to be true," he whispers, bringing his lips closer to yours. 
"Dido," you grin, leaning in to kiss him. 
_____________________
After pondering the bliss of you and JJ finally being reunited in the hot tub, you two make dinner together in the Chateau's kitchen. You two move in sync as you prepare the oh-so-difficult meal of pizza rolls. You share a place of them while cuddling watching Goonies. During it, JJ comes up with the idea that you two should be Andy and Brand for Halloween. It makes you smile and all warm inside to hear him making plans for two months from now. It makes you fully realize how much JJ sees a future with you. Somewhere before Goonies was over, you fell asleep in JJ's lap while he was playing with your hair. The last few days have worn on you emotionally, mentally, and physically. 
The Pogues came home and when they saw you and JJ on the couch, especially you, they quietly stayed outside. Except, John B lingered, smiling at the sight of his friend doting on you. He's never seen JJ be so gentle and patient in his life. 
“You’re different with her," John B whispers not to wake you. 
JJ glances up from observing you look at his friend with a satisfied smirk. “She makes me want to be better." His fingers comb through your Y/H/C locks, utterly content. 
“I think she’s really good for you,” John B nods in agreement.  
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to change, to be worthy of being with her," JJ confesses quietly as he returns his focus to you. 
"You two deserve each other," John B assures his friend. 
"You think?" JJ wonders, still unsure of his place in your life. 
John B snickers lightly. "I mean, she did leap across a table in front of all her friends and slap a girl to defend you." 
"Yeah she did, didn't she? Pretty badass," JJ chuckles, still amazed that you did that. 
"She loves you man," John B concludes with a shrug. 
"Really?" JJ narrows his eyes with curiosity at his friend. 
"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" John B laughs breathlessly with a crooked grin. 
"I thought it was all in my head," JJ confesses with a childish fall of his lips like he just learned some overwhelming news. 
"It's not," his friend shakes his head, happy to see his friend finally have some hope. "She looks at you the same way you look at her." 
JJ's brows scrunch together and he looks up at John B. "When you and Sarah said it to each other, how did you know it was the right time?" 
"You'll know. You'll feel it," he describes confidently.  
"What if I feel it now?" JJ asks softly, glancing down at you. 
"Then say it. Say it whenever you can, as often as you can," John B advises before stepping away quietly to give you two time. 
JJ sits with your head cradled in his lap. He's not eager to join his friends around the fire outside. He's content with you here with him, whether you're asleep or not. You're enough for him. You're everything to him. 
JJ leans down, planting a kiss to your temple, then gliding his lips down to your ear. "I love you, Y/N," he whispers while you sleep.  __________________________________________________
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Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez 
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bukojuiice · 3 years
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the wedding booth  — eren jaeger
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ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x  fem! reader)
ೃ after being unwillingly dragged to plan and create a wedding booth for your first university festival, eren accompanies you to a bridal boutique. there, he contemplates about the future and all of the cheesy romantic stuff he wants to do with you.
ೃ genre and warnings: college au, lots and lots of fluff!
ೃ  my nav  →  my aot masterlist
ೃ 1k words
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My Big Fat Greek Wedding, My Best Friend's Wedding, The Wedding Planner, Wedding Crashers... hell, even Mamma Mia.
If having to be forced to watch these romantic comedies about weddings doesn't give you the sudden urge to get hitched and run away to some tropical island, then you don't know what will.
For your very first uni fair at Shigashina University, your friends had proposed a Marriage booth. To be more specific, three of your friends did. Jean, Sasha, and Connie are the masterminds behind this stupid idea and it's all because of three things:
1. Jean is pining over Mikasa so so bad. So many years have passed and yet he still hasn't found a way to confess. And so, due to his pompous ass binge-watching stupid rom-coms recently, he thinks that if "fake dating" can bring two people together, then having a fake wedding with his unrequited crush of 12 years could finally make her fall for him too. He wants the booth to be as iconic as a wedding straight out of Las Vegas. Problem is, he's never been to Las Vegas, and his terribly unrealistic basis for wanting it to be as iconic as a "Las Vegas Wedding" is that one scene from The Hangover and that episode from Friends.
He was delusional and yet, he wanted to push through with this proposal no matter what. Nothing was going to stop him... not unless it was one of the three seniors whom you would be proposing this project to in the first place.
2. Sasha's goals are much normal. A bit odd, but still normal and not as desperate as Jean's. All she wants is to get Ymir, the captain of the school's soccer team to confess to Historia, the freshman Bio-Chemistry student who works part-time as a library assistant (and whom everyone secretly fawns over for. she's just that damn cute.) However, the real reason as to why she helped [rp[pse this stupid marriage booth to get them to finally confess to each other is anyone's guess.
3. Connie thinks he's gonna get clout from this. Rise up the university hierarchy perhaps? He's treating the entire festival like it's high school all over again. He prays that the marriage booth will become the hottest thing in the festival, then he'll instantly become that cool and bad-ass freshie whom everyone wants to be friends with. Either way, if the booth is going to be a success or not, you know for a fact he's never going to be a part of the "cool kids" (good lord, can you believe people still use that term in college?) and he's gonna be stuck with you and your other friends for the rest of the years to come.
It didn't take long before they finally finished their elaborate PowerPoint Presentation (despite Connie insisting that Powerpoint is boring) that they were going to pitch to three of the principal members of the student council. Namely, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, and Hange Zoe.
It was gonna be an automatic no for Levi, obviously. Nothing could ever get past that man. But if they can somehow convince Erwin and most especially Hange to get on board with their stupid scheme, then the booth was good to go.
Now, here you are, in a bridal boutique. Purchasing some simple wedding dresses that will serve as your rent-a-dress service for the Marriage booth.
It wasn't originally a part of the plan. Not at all.
However, Hange would only approve of the project IF the wedding booth was going to be made into something more elaborate and memorable. They didn't want something as simple as printing out fake marriage contracts, cheap tulle fabric wedding veils, fake plastic bouquets, and wedding pictures that came out of a polaroid camera.
Oh no no no. They wanted it to be extravagant. The cream of the crop. The absolute bomb. The best booth at the festival.
Hange saw potential in the idea and with an approved budget by the student council, you could make anyone's wedding dreams come true.
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 Fast forward to a week before the event, you are currently on a shopping spree with Armin, Mikasa, and your boyfriend, Eren (because Sasha insisted he had the right proportions for the rental groom outfits. She totally did not ask him to come along so that he can see you try on wedding gowns.) to buy supplies, props, decorations, and everything else needed.
"(Y/N), we'll meet you and Eren at the bridal boutique, okay?" Armin proclaims, looking at the time on his wristwatch and struggling to balance the shopping bags on his other hand.  Mikasa notices how much he's been struggling and offers to hold the bags for him.
"Sure! Don't forget about the list that Jean sent!" You shout back, turning to Eren as his fingers interlace with yours, making your merry way to the boutique whilst Armin and Mikasa go off the other direction.
"Don't get too excited." You joke, nudging Eren on the arm. "I'll just be trying on these dresses for the booth."
There's a particular glimmer in Eren's emerald eyes, chuckling at your quip. "Sheesh. Did you really have to remind me? Of course I know that. Besides, we're too young to even think about marriage right now. What's important is that I'm spending the best years of my life with you."
"Eren Grisha Jaeger, it is too damn early for you to make me a blushing pile of mess with your flirty comebacks." You deadpan, the heat rising up your cheeks as you try to hide your embarrassment from him.
The both of you laugh it off, shuffling into the store. The chiming bells of the shop door echo around the area as you look in awe at the luxurious dresses occupying every available space. The wafting smell of a vanilla pinecone scent and the soft sound of a sewing machine doing its work. There was a homey and rustic feel to this boutique that made you feel like you were sent back in time.
From great flouncy pieces adorned in layers of lace that rolled like ocean waves to more humble designs, albeit of the finest cloth.
This plethora of finery- reminds you strongly of the many genteel ladies depicted in those books and historic romances you used to read and watch. Like that of Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility.
Having the opportunity to enter a boutique such as this was a dream.
"Welcome! May I help you find anything?" A seamstress appears from the register. She looks at you from head to toe, as if trying to guess your measurements.
"W-we're looking for wedding dresses. Anything within the 200 to 300 dollar range? We don't need anything extra fancy, though! We'll just be needing them-"
Her eyes shift from you to Eren like she's suddenly a love coach, sizing the two of you up. "Yes, yes, young love! How sweet!" She chirps, breathing out a dreamy sigh. "Of course! For couples on a tight budget, we have-"
"We're looking for wedding dresses that can be used as costumes! Not too short and not too long either. W-we're not getting married or anything." You dismiss the seamstress with a wave of your hand. "I'm sorry if you thought of it that way..."
Although her shoulders visibly drop, the saleswoman still manages to smile. "Oh! I would like to apologize for assuming anything too!"
"Actually, mam, we do have plans sometime in the future." Eren grins cheekily, pulling you close to him. "Not today, of course, but we'll make sure to drop by in a few years!"
The saleslady's eyes lit up at Eren's vow. "Over here are some of our best-selling pieces! Ones that will certainly attract the eye of any groom!" She beckons you over to some mannequins lined up in the middle of the store, your gaze is drawn to the myriad of dresses on display as you walk throughout the space.
You turn back to Eren, studying him closely as he walks a few paces behind you, you thoughtfully wonder if the dresses you would pick out would match his taste.
She leads you to the back of the store to show the other garments and dresses embroidered with simplicity and yet elegance. You then pick two gowns up from their respective racks, satisfied with your purchase and making a beeline to the register to pay. However, the seamstress stops you from your tracks.
"How about this one, dear?"
You turn your attention to her, doe-eyed and curious as to what she was going to show you next.
"It is indeed a wedding dress, although not what you had asked for, the handsome young man did say something about your marriage plans. Perhaps this might help you visualize it? Give you an idea for the future, hm?" She hums wistfully, drawing your attention to the mannequin she placed in front of you. "It would be a shame if you left the boutique without trying anything on."
"(Y/N)?" You hear Eren's husky voice call out for you from the front of the store, "Armin just texted me. They can't find a specific prop in the crafts store so we might have to wait a bit longer for them."
"Okay! We can spare more time in the boutique, anyways." You answer back,  before turning your attention to the seamstress once more.
"Alright. I think I'll try it on then."
"Trying it on" turned out to be more than you had imagined. You thought you could just slip inside the dress and show it off. But nope. You needed a few adjustments to dress, adornments in your hair, and had to wear a wedding veil.
It was almost as if you were actually preparing to be wed.
"Good sir, your lovely missus is ready!" Yup, even the words of the seamstress made you feel like you were living in the 17th century right now. Did she really have to use such fancy words?
"Please, watch your step." The seamstress takes your hand and leads you out of the dressing room and right towards—
Eren who had been waiting in the shop proper.
"Doesn't she look beautiful?" She giggles, glancing at Eren for a response. "Well, I'll leave the two of you here first and bring the dresses you've chosen to the cash register first." In a wink, she's gone and had disappeared into the back almost before the words left her mouth.
The unfamiliar yet elegant garb makes you feel shy and the fact that Eren was gaping at you did not help at all. He was absolutely entranced by your beauty.
You unconsciously lower your head, tucking a strand of hair beneath your ear, unable to bear the thought.
"God, you're not just beautiful. Y-you look breathtaking."
He says in a barely audible whisper, pulling you to him once more.
Placing his hands on your waist, Eren plants a soft, tender kiss on your chest, the low-cut dress affording it easily. In a heartbeat, you feel your cheeks grow hot.
"Heh. Guess I got you again." He grins wolfishly, still admiring your beauty and tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I-I don't deserve you... I really don't."
"If you didn't deserve me, would you be here right now?" You say jokingly, raising your eyebrow.
"I mean it." He buries his face on the hem of your dress, his voice is muffled and soothing. "I can't believe you chose to love me." He looks up at you, eyes practically welling up with tears. "God, I honestly can't believe I'm crying right now, but, yeah... I am. That's how much I love you and how much I want to marry you right now."
You giggle at the expression your boyfriend has shown before you, stroking his hair and burying your fingers into his long brunette locks. "I love you too. But... why so sudden? You already told the saleswoman that we'll be back in a few years. She'd be surprised to hear you change your mind so easily."
"Well, if that's the case, then I better tell Jean to have us first on the list of the wedding booth then. We worked our asses off for this, might as well be the first to be blessed with the luck of that stupid booth."
You giggle once more as he continues to hold you so close. You feel his breath and his heartbeat. Each exhale and pulse brings you to the realization that Eren is the one. The man you want to be with for the rest of your life. The man who will help you through all your faults and mistakes, your burdens and troubles, through all the ups and downs... he will be there.
Just as you will be for him.
Guess those stupid movies centered around weddings weren’t so bad after all
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.taglist: @crapimahuman​
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wonderlustlucas · 3 years
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home - hwang hyunjin
⇢ prompt “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 2.7k ⇢ genre fluff, kind of angsty? ⇢ warnings insinuated that this takes place during covid & that reader has some case of depression/anxiety i literally wrote her as me so like ⇢ summary In which Hyunjin shows you just how special you are.—college!au ⇢ a/n happy birthday to my love, my comfort, my home
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What am I doing here?
Unfortunately, there is no one else to blame but herself for being left without plans on this Friday night. Regretfully so, she instead finds herself alone on the upper level of the business building. Scratch that, the whole building, probably – she’s been here since four, and the few students that were once alongside her left hours ago. Initially here to work on an essay, she now occupies her time bouncing between YouTube, Twitch, and Crunchyroll, watching whatever she is feeling at the moment despite Monday’s deadline looming over her.
Sighing, she looks away from a boring page of YouTube recommendations, stretches her neck, and reaches for her hot chocolate. Well, not hot anymore, she realizes with a wince after taking a sip, struggling to swallow the now cold drink. Gaze flicking to the time on the corner of her laptop, she frowns. 9:43. She considers walking home once it hits ten, the unstirred silence of the building starting to prick up her spine like needles. Home, she thinks with an amused exhale from her nose. A too small, overheated double dorm room that technically is a single now that her roommate has gone online for the rest of the semester. Home.
She wonders, briefly, if anyone were to miss her if she were to go home home. If anyone would even notice, anyway.
She wouldn’t expect them to, honestly. It’s not as if she goes out of her way to hang out with anyone, usually opting to cozy up in her room and pretend she does not see the groupchat blowing up with plans to meet at the dining hall, a study session at the library, a trip to the mall. She loves her friends, really, but can rarely find it in herself to actually participate in said friend activities. Sure, there are some nights she actually leaves the confines of her room to join them, but to be quite frank, she’s glad they have learned to simply stop inviting her. Makes the whole looking for an excuse problem a lot easier.
Besides, who would want to go out on a night like this, anyway?
Just as she has flipped to page fifty-three of The Old Man and the Sea, she looks away in boredom, instead opting to gaze out the window. Focusing past her reflection on the tall glass pane, a warm feeling she can only describe as peace seems to settle over her, watching the snow fall like moonlit glitter across campus. The snowstorm had started light when she first arrived, soft enough she could manage with her hood down, dotting her with only miniature droplets of water. Now, though, the flakes are so large she can focus on one at a time as they fly past, covering the ground with a solid two or three inches at this point. In the distance, she can spot snowplows making their rounds to clear the pathways, the route to the business building already turned slushy blue as salt melts the continuous snow.
She sighs, eyes wide like a child as she represses the urge to go outside and grab a handful of it, maybe fall onto one of the lawns and make a snow angel, stick her tongue out and try to catch one of the large flakes. Tomorrow, maybe, she thinks, looking at her grey sweatpants and deciding walking back with soaked pants in this weather would not be the best idea.
So late into March, she cannot help but chuckle at the number of students complaining about the snow and cold temperature on SnapChat, even her friends having to change their plans. She, on the other hand, finds such last chance snowstorm beautiful; sure, she was ready for spring and eventually a break from school, but watching the snow dancing under the streetlights, choreographed by the gentle wind, she thinks it’s something to hold on to, keep her grounded to reality that albeit the stress and monotony of college, such moments like these still exist.
She jumps at the sound of the front entrance slamming closed.
Who the hell? She frowns, annoyed at whoever decided now was a good time to come inside, subsequently ruining her little moment of serenity. Turning red at the thought of some raunchy couple thinking to spice things up in the presumably empty building, she considers packing her bag and heading out. But no matter which exit, they would still see her, and that would be painstakingly awkward. Maybe she could escape into one of the smaller reservation rooms, or at least make some exaggerated noise so they at least know they’re not alone.
Could just be a janitor, or maybe someone else deciding to shelter somewhere other than their dorm to buckle down and do some work, she thinks. No matter who it is and what their intentions are, her leg is already bouncing a mile a minute having gotten used to having the space to herself.
So caught up on how or when she should take her leave, she does not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs until they’re right behind her. Tensing up, she watches in the window’s reflection as the business building’s second occupant steps up onto the platform and… heads towards her. Panic setting in, she tries to decipher who it is through the blurry reflection but to no avail, heart racing at the thought of a stranger approaching her, one of her friends finding her here on a Friday night, a janitor going to ask her to leave.
She turns her head as soon as they stop beside her.
“Hyunjin?” She blurts, taken aback. This was the last person she expected to be here. Somewhat relieved but heart still beating in her throat, she blinks up at the tall boy to make sure it’s really him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” he returns, pulling his mask down below his chin and smiling cheekily at her. “I went to go pick up my food and saw you in the window,” Hyunjin explains, tugging the beanie off his head and shaking his hair out, showering her in the tiny droplets. Wrinkling her nose, she takes notice of the Chipotle bag in his hand and how soaked his coat is.
“Here,” she offers, reaching for the bag. Passing it to her with a grateful smile, Hyunjin unzips his coat and sets it over a chair beside her alongside his beanie, wipes the melted snow and sweat from his eyes, and tries to fix his now mused bangs. “So, what are you doing here?” He asks while doing this, regarding her with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Work,” she sighs. Then, glancing to the screen of her laptop and realizing it’s still the home page of YouTube, she grimaces. “Trying to do work. Not really. Just watching the snow.”
“It’s a lot prettier when you’re inside,” Hyunjin comments, following her gaze to watch the frenzy of snow before taking the bag from her and offering a quiet thanks. “But I meant more why are you here?”
She isn’t quite sure what her relationship with Hyunjin is. Having been one of the many acquaintances she barely made at freshman orientation, he did not seem like the kind of person she expected to still be in her life. She wouldn’t exactly say they were close, but she considers Hyunjin a friend, she thinks. After a good month or two forgetting he existed, she randomly bumped into him at the dining hall, recognizing that unfairly attractive face of his in line for chicken nuggets and immediately falling into conversation. Turns out, he was mutual friends with her lab partner, Kim Seungmin.
She does not see Hyunjin as much as she wishes she did. She had not shared any classes with him in the past three years, and even if her friend group and his overlapped in the slightest, it was not always a given that they both would be able to hang out as much as their closer friends do. Still, there always seems to be a random occasion, such as now, where they bump into one another. Each time is a pleasant surprise, of course, and not just because of his pretty face and wide shoulders, but because he has always seemed to care for her in a way no one else does, and that in itself is enough to have her heart racing every time he comes close.
Not that she has a crush on him or anything, but it definitely is hard trying not to fall in love every time he even so much as smiles at her.
Face heating up in embarrassment at his question, she avoids looking him in the eyes and randomly minimizes the Chrome tab on her laptop. “You know,” she drones on, “just taking it easy for the night.”
Hyunjin hums in agreement, opening the lid of his burrito bowl and stabbing a fork into the layers. Even her mouth waters. “I feel like I never see you,” he contemplates, finally taking a bite. His words surprise her. “Uh, yeah,” she coughs, forcing herself to look away before she gets too enraptured over how beautiful he looks even after trekking through a snowstorm, long hair messy but falling over his face in a way that has her fingers twitching to tuck away. “I usually don’t go out with everyone. Not my scene.”
“Aw,” he coos, “I get that. Sometimes I’m the same way, I just want to relax on the weekends after working so much all week.”
Thank you!, she almost shouts, but bites her tongue. She agrees, but even she does not know why she can’t find it in herself to go out and party with everyone else. She’s just lazy, to put it simply. Nevertheless, his words put her at ease, no longer worried that he might think she’s a loser for staying in every weekend.
“Exactly,” she agrees, “parties are fun, sometimes. But I just prefer laying low. I don’t think my friends like that, though.”
Gaze finding his, her heart does somersaults at the smile he offers. “Nah,” Hyunjin says, confident, “no one thinks that. Everyone has their way of having fun. Honestly, all I’ve ever heard is your friends complaining how they miss you and that you would make going out more fun since you’re so funny.”
“Which is true, by the way,” he adds.
She feels as if she is going to combust. “Oh,” she croaks, throat dry, “um, thank you. That’s sweet of them. And you. I guess I didn’t consider that they miss me when they go out.”
Hyunjin scoffs, raising a brow but finishes chewing before speaking again. “Are you nuts? You’re so fun to be around, of course they’re going to miss you.”
“Okay, stop that,” she laughs, burning from the inside out at his compliments. “Just being honest,” he laughs, opening the bag of his tortilla chips. “Want any?”
She looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”
“Okay,” she huffs out an airy laugh, rolling her chair closer to his. Miscalculating that he was going to move, too, she quite literally feels her blood pressure skyrocket as her knees bump into his. And he doesn’t move. “Here,” moving the bag closer to the edge of the table, Hyunjin glances at her for only a split second before focusing on his bowl again.
Reaching into the bag, she feels emboldened not only by his previous flattery, but his proximity as well, and scrambles to continue the conversation. “Why are you eating Chipotle so late?”
“Pre-birthday celebration. Also, DoorDash took forever,” Hyunjin laughs.
“When’s your birthday?” She asks, munching on a chip.
“In,” he pauses, tapping his phone, “two hours.”
Oh. “What?” She gasps, blinking at him. “What? Why aren’t you out? It’s your birthday weekend and you’re here eating Chipotle?”
“Woah, okay Miss I-Prefer-Laying-Low. Maybe I wanted to chill tonight, since tomorrow I’m going out? Hm?” Hyunjin chuckles at her scowl, pursing his lips. “Okay, yeah, I guess but—”
“No but’s,” he interrupts, the amused glint in his eyes disappearing, “I’m here now, and that’s what matters, right? I’m lucky I saw you in the window.”
“I guess,” she mutters, realizing her heart has not stopped its staccato frenzy since moving closer, “you scared me, by the way. I’ve been here alone for hours and suddenly someone is walking up to me, I think I shit my pants.”
Hyunjin bellows out a laugh, and such an airy sound momentarily leaves her awestruck. Oh, god, she’s in deep. It’s over.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggles, battling her hand to reach for a chip. Even the touch of his long fingers against hers has the entire butterfly population roaring to life in her gut. “Look, I made up for it by gifting you chips.”
“True,” she hums, licking residue salt off her fingers before leaning back in her chair to catch a breather. Too much physical contact and emotion for one night.
“What are you doing next weekend?” Hyunjin asks, taking her by surprise. Again. She thinks she is going to faint if she isn’t able to wrap herself around him within the next fifteen seconds.
“Um,” she starts, then remembers her previous idea of going home after this week was over. “I was probably going to go home next Friday.”
“Oh,” is all Hyunjin says, seemingly disappointed. “Why?”
She grits her teeth. Why? Really? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, not even convinced herself, “I’m bored and lonely here. I love everyone here but I miss my friends at home. I might as well be slightly less bored at home.” Hyunjin frowns.
“Okay, what about this,” he starts, leaning close enough she can count his individual eyelashes and nearly smell the flavor of his lip balm, “you go out with us tomorrow night and if you have fun, you hang out with us next weekend, too. Oh, and whenever you want some company, you text me and we’ll come here or somewhere else and do homework together or just chill. How does that sound?”
All she can do is blink at him. Her initial thought is how dare he try negotiating whether I go home or not? But, there it is, again, she realizes. That extra step he takes, the genuine care he shows her, acting like her well-being is his responsibility. “You don’t have to do that, Hyunjin. I don’t want to bother you every time I feel lonely. I’ll be fine.”
“Christ, you’re dense,” rolling his eyes, Hyunjin sets his fork down, wipes his hands on his thighs, and suddenly leans in to hold her face with both hands, “I wouldn’t offer to sit around and do homework with you when you’re in need of a friend if I didn’t want to.”
Her heart is racing so fast she fears he may be able to hear the thud of it against her chest. What he’s saying is starting to sound a lot more than some friend-to-friend comfort, and it’s making her head hurt, especially with his thumbs ever so slightly swiping against her cheeks. At her silence, he starts again.
“Y/N,” he says, voice dropping an octave, “don’t go home. This is your home, too, you just don’t want it to be.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she thinks she is going to say something, but nothing comes out. There is nothing to say. Hyunjin is right, he has read her like an open book, and he’s here to offer his shoulder to lean on. “Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go out with everyone tomorrow. And I’ll try and stay here for the rest of the semester.”
“That’s my girl,” Hyunjin smiles, leaning closer and pressing a featherlight kiss to her lips. At first, it takes her by surprise. But then it all starts to make sense. The snow makes sense. Her essay makes sense. Being here makes sense. Hyunjin makes sense. His birthday makes sense. She makes sense.
Outside the glass windows, the wind starts to howl, blowing the composed ballet of snow to its final act, covering the pathways and the streetlights and the roof of the business building in perfect white glitter. Inside these windows, she realizes they would notice if she were to go home.
Why would she ever do that when her second home is right here in front of her?
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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO
Here you go!
60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras
“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”
“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”
“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”
“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”
------------------------------------------------------
“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”
“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”
“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”
“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”
----------------------------------------------------
“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.
“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.
“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”
“I’m just trying to be efficient.”
“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”
“That doesn’t make it optimal.”
“Do you have to be right about everything?”
“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”
“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”
“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”
“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”
Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.
“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”
They trade a final, furious look.
“Agreed.”
------------------------------------------------------
They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.
Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).
His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.
“Hey, Joseph.”
The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.
“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”
The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.
Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”
Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.
He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”
Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”
“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”
“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”
“Joseph-”
“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”
“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”
Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”
“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”
“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”
“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”
“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”
“So...what is it instead?”
“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”
Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.
“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”
Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”
-----------------------------------------------------
He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.
“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.
“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”
“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”
Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.
“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”
Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.
“...Will you do my back?”
“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.
It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.
“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”
“Heights?”
He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”
They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.
They hit the edge. The agent freezes.
“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”
“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”
Joseph still doesn’t move.
“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”
“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”
“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.
Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”
“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”
The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.
If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.
--------------------------------------------------------
“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.
“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”
“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”
He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.
When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.
“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”
“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”
“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”
“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”
Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”
“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.
A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.
“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”
Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.
-----------------------------------------------
After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.
“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).
But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.
They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.
“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”
“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”
Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.
“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”
He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”
With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.
“Wait!”
Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”
There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.
“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”
Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”
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2996-sana · 4 years
Text
Not So Unrequited Love - Jennie
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At 11 on a Friday, Jennie finds herself at Coffee Beanz where her, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rosé usually meet for their weekly brunch. The quaint little coffee shop that huddled despondent among huge city buildings has cemented itself as their go-to place ever since Jisoo came across it during their freshman year of college. The interior was warm and cheery and always played really good jazz during Fridays which Jennie absolutely loved.
Now professionals with outstanding positions in their own industries, the four girls still haven’t forgotten about the one place that always gave them a bittersweet recollection of their time as broke and stressed college students. Not that they need the weekly trips to the coffee shop to see each other. They all lived in the same apartment complex separated by just a few doors from each other after all. It was just a nice little tradition that reminded them to remain grounded no matter how far they come in their own careers.
This week, the topic at hand over their usual coffee and brunch orders was Jennie’s struggle to find a date.
“Why is this happening to me?” Jennie complains, throwing her hands in the air. “Am I lacking something?”
The three girls rolled their eyes at their best friend. Jennie really did have a flare for the dramatics.
“Jen, you literally have people lining up to date you.” Jisoo reassured while the other two hummed in agreement.
“That’s right,” Rosé says, taking a pause to sip her coffee. “I mean Y/N is literally the living embodiment of that statement.”
Lisa snorts at Rosé’s words. You were Rosé’s childhood best friend and business partner who first crossed paths with Jennie about three years ago during their company launching and was notorious in their friend group for your not so subtle crush on Jennie.
This was not lost on Jennie however. Not at all. Moves were made. These so-called moves could’ve definitely been executed better, Jennie was sure of that, but she appreciated your efforts.
You just weren’t her type.
Jennie grimaced hearing your name. “I-I don’t know, Rosie. Nothing against her or whatever. She’s just not my type is all.”
“You know, Jennie, just because Y/N isn’t the typical person littered with tattoos that you usually go for, doesn’t mean she won’t make good company on a date.”
She wanted to rebut Lisa’s argument but she knew the girl had a point. Looking at her dating history, she was known for being with people – boys and girls – who all looked and acted like their moral compass could use some adjusting. What can she say? She has always been a sucker for someone wild.
You on the other hand could be compared to sunshine. Jennie can’t ever recall seeing you without a smile on your face. It almost seemed like it was the last step in your morning routine before walking out of your house. In Jennie’s eyes, you were too nice. Nicer than Rosé (if you’re on her good side) and that is saying a lot.
“Lisa is right, Jen. Y/N is actually super cool,” Jisoo insisted, remembering the time she bumped into you at an art exhibition. It was there that she discovered that you were one for the arts and had two of your paintings featured that night. She also noticed how people lit up at your presence and appreciated how you commanded the room whenever you began talking. It reminded her of how tough and demanding you were during a meeting she was able to attend that one time she visited Rosé. The impressed faces of your investors were ingrained in Jisoo’s brain. She was convinced you were a whole different person when needed to be.
Jisoo was fond of you. Especially for Jennie. She knew that if Jennie just gave you the time of day, Jennie would be able to look past her perception of you: boring and plain – and discover that you are more than what meets the eye.  
“Yeah, Jen! Give her a chance,” Rosé was sporting a pout, clearly wanting both of her friends to get together.
With her best friends’ eyes on her, all looking like they were expecting the same answer, Jennie sighs in defeat.
Oh, what the hell. Just one date. What could go wrong, right?
“Fine.”
“Wow, we can tell just how excited you are.” Lisa was giggling at Jennie’s pained expression. She was sure Jennie was just overreacting anyway. Lisa actually thought you were cute and 100% dateable.
You were tapping your foot on the wooden floor of your office finishing off some paperwork when your silver-haired best friend slash business partner Rosé entered unannounced, a big smile on her face that was becoming borderline creepy.
“Why do you look like that?”
Rosé began to squeal in excitement complete with jumping up and down. “Jennie wants to go on a date with you!”
The words cause you to come to a halt as your cheeks are suddenly kissed pink, your blush searing through your cheeks.
For a minute Rosé thought her friend’s face was on fire.
“What?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me loud and clear,” Rosé teased. “Anyways, she’s free this Saturday and I did you a favor and called for a reservation at her favorite Italian restaurant by Graves Street under your name. 7PM, don’t be late! Bye!”
That was the last you heard before the girl slammed the doors of your office closed.
As planned, you were sat in one of the tables at Jennie’s restaurant of choice. Large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, dark walnut tables with splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, romantic candles on each table, soft live piano music, and a flagstone tile floor. The restaurant was fancy, that you could tell as you observed from your seat.
You resorted to playing with your fingers as you waited for the girl who has lived in your heart and mind rent free ever since you saw her that evening of your company’s launching. You were twenty minutes early due to the nerves that haven’t left since Rosé informed you of Jennie’s approval of the date. You couldn’t believe Jennie actually agreed to this. Last thing you heard was Jennie’s break up with her designer boyfriend of one year and that she was back on the market. You didn’t think you would be lucky enough to even be a candidate that could potentially bring her off it again.
You shake your head at your thoughts. You were getting way ahead of yourself. For now, you should just focus on getting this date right so that a second one could be on the table.
“Hey, you’re early.”
You cast your eyes upwards to see Jennie plopping down on the seat in front of you and you had to forcefully tear your eyes away from the beauty that finally graced you with her presence. She looked sinfully stunning in her black vintage Chanel dress.
“Oh, um…I-I actually just got here.” you blurted, looking bewildered. “You look beautiful.”
You wanted to hit yourself for such a basic compliment but being there with Jennie was nerve-wracking enough as it was so you cut yourself some slack. Jennie couldn’t help but giggle at how obviously flustered you were.
Cute, she thought. “Thank you, Y/N. I think you look dashing yourself.”  
You felt heat rising to your cheeks and prayed it wasn’t noticeable. Thankfully before you could embarrass herself, a friendly looking waiter approached your table with a menu.
“Are we ready to order ladies?”
Jennie looked to you for confirmation which you answered with a tentative nod.
“I’ll have the poached lobster with butternut squash and chestnuts and…” Jennie threw you a glance from her menu.
“I’ll have the, um, beef tenderloin with the crab salad.” You read the first thing you saw from the menu, the pressure of Jennie looking at you throwing you off. “Thank you.”
“Okay, would that be all ladies?”
“Oh, and two glasses of white house. Thanks.”
As the waiter walked away with their orders, a silence settled over them.
“I know everything seems pretentious but I promise the food is worth it,” Jennie remarked with a teasing smile.
“It’s all good, Jennie. How’s work?” Your smile fades as you notice the girl you so badly wanted to impress was suddenly distracted, her attention everywhere but on you. You tried to see what Jennie was so focused on, following her line of sight.
After a couple moments, you realize that Jennie was focused on a couple eating across from each other a few tables away from you. The boy was studiously bent over his meal while conversing with the girl as she collapsed with helpless giggles. It didn’t take you long to realize that it was Jennie’s ex, Kai, having met him during Lisa’s birthday party last year. A big point to also remember was how the dude was literally Rosé’s cousin.
“Jennie?”
Jennie was snapped out her trance, desperately trying to compose herself.
What the fuck was Kai, her ex-boyfriend, doing here with a girl? She wasn’t jealous. Not in Kai’s wildest dreams. She wouldn’t get back together with him even if he was the last option she had left. No, she was annoyed because Kai managed to bag someone before she could. She was Jennie Kim. Why wasn’t she in a disgustingly cute relationship by now? She wanted so badly to curse the boy out until she remembered she was also here for a date with Y/N. Y/N! Right, Y/N.
“Shit, sorry. I just thought I saw someone I knew,” Jennie shrugged. Her tone was apologetic but you could tell she was still distracted.
“It’s okay,” you tried to sound nonchalant, sporting a counterfeit smile, but you could practically feel the uneasy tension in the atmosphere.
You just hoped you could salvage the night.
You weren’t able to. Jennie stayed distracted and uninterested the rest of the night, eyes either glancing at the couple a few tables away or at her phone. She answered your questions with one worded answers and empty laughs and you were left to shift uncomfortably in your seat, grasping your sweaty and nervous hands under the table.
You threw yourself on your bed, screaming into a pillow. You couldn’t digest the defeat you felt. You had one chance to show Jennie you were worth her time and you couldn’t even get it right. You felt traumatized and humiliated. Jennie would have that disaster of a date seared into her brain forever and the thought was ready to pop up and torment you for the rest of your life. You knew the regret would come to you in random moments, demanding to be reexamined again.
No, you shouldn’t beat yourself up for it. You tried your best. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, Jennie was the reason why things didn’t go as planned tonight.
You gave your pillow another scream at the realization. Jennie was uninterested because that’s what she was – uninterested. She obviously didn’t like you enough to be present during the date.
She could’ve at least pretended to be happy to be there, you thought bitterly.
A week after that disaster of a date, you were walking down the street enjoying the only time of the week you had to yourself. Work had been excruciating these past few months as you were in the middle of negotiating with foreign investors and hopefully sealing the deal by next week. The late afternoon sunlight, soft and diffuse, giving way to the strong rays of the day, was doing its job of convincing you that it was gonna be a great day.
You’ve been feeling down ever since the date and you badly needed a day to recuperate and gain back the confidence that you lost. Rosé was nothing short of apologetic when she found out about the disappointing events and reassured you that she, along with Jisoo and Lisa, gave Jennie the scolding she deserved. Although your best friend’s desired reaction was for you to feel better, it just made you more embarrassed knowing that Jennie’s blatant dislike in dating you was known to all of her friends.
Today, it was your mission to forget all about Jennie and that night.
The antique store has been a treasure trove to you. It never failed to give you objects of delight and interest that instantly claimed your attention. Today was no different. Your eyes lit up as you see the old woman, who looked like your typical ahjumma, behind the counter. She wasn’t the kind of old woman you pity with old bones and troubled limbs, but the kind who could still run an entire marathon if given half the chance.
“Ah, Y/N!” the woman exclaimed, “I didn’t see you last week, dear.”
“It has been a nightmare at the company. I’m surprised I’m still walking,” you sighed, making your way to the shelves filled with odd objects.
“Y/N, you should really learn how to take a breather. You’re always at work! No wonder you’re still single,” Nora shook her head, shooting you a look of disapproval.
You laughed as you looked through every rack for some knickknack you wanted to bring home. There was a carved sandal-wood box packed tight with aromatic cotton-wool, and between the layers of cotton-wool were little brass figures, hump-necked bulls and peacocks and goblins, delightful to see and handle.
“You don’t need to remind me of my impending doom of living alone for the rest of my life, Nora.”
You let out an involuntary gasp as you spot a teapot fashioned like a china duck before carefully putting it inside your basket. You continued to stare amazed at the different peculiar objects, completely entranced, that you didn’t hear someone walking up beside you.
“Y/N?”
You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice. And not just any voice. You turned around to see Jennie looking at you with the same look of shock on her face. “Jennie?”
She looked down at your basket before giving you a tight-lipped smile. Something akin to an apologetic one.
“I’m… actually really glad I ran into you,” Jennie stammered, head bowed as if ashamed. “I’ve been meaning to apologize about my behavior last Saturday. I was being rude and incons-“
You cut her off with a soft smile, “Jennie, it’s fine. It’s all behind us now. Apology accepted.”
“Ugh, why do you have to be so understanding? I feel like shit,” she groaned, stomping her feet on the ground.
You almost laughed at how genuinely disturbed she seemed but figured you didn’t want to make her more upset.
“Stop beating yourself up for it,” you urged, gently patting her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll have Nora ring this up on the counter. Good seeing you, Jen.”
Before you could walk away from the cat-eyed girl, you feel fingers wrapping itself around your wrist.
“It’s a beautiful day out. Care to spare a couple of hours to spend it with me?”
Jennie wasn’t lying. It really was a beautiful spring day out. Try as you might, your focus was scattered, filled with nervous anticipation. You were afraid you wouldn't be able to hold a conversation while your thoughts danced in infinite directions. Yeah, operation move on from Jennie Kim was not looking too good. Still as you walked with Jennie along the local park, you were determined to move past that and tried to convince yourself that this was nothing but a platonic hang out.
“How’s work been?” Jennie questioned, hands in her coat pockets as her eyes drifted to the kids playing around the field.
“Hard,” you sighed. “We’ve all been hard at work but I’m sure you know that given Rosie never really shuts up about it.”
Jennie laughs and you don’t feel the familiar butterflies you get whenever you heard the melodic sound and you think that maybe you’re finally making progress.
“Yeah, she always makes sure to give us an earful about it.”
“How about you though? The magazine is doing really great. I’ve seen at least a hundred people reading this month’s issue just today,” you exaggerated, wiggling your eyebrows which again brought out a laugh from Jennie.
She playfully nudged your shoulder, “Real funny, but yeah everything is doing really great. Getting Lady Gaga on this month’s issue was a really great move. We have Selena Gomez up next. We bagged a really great exclusive interview.”
You could hear the pride in Jennie’s voice and you knew it was warranted. Being the self-made CEO of her own fashion and lifestyle magazine, Jennie had every right to feel proud. Plus, it wasn’t easy pulling off having such A list celebrities to feature in your magazine.
“That’s really amazing, Jen. You should be proud of yourself. It’s only going up from here, I know it. I’m rooting for you,” you quipped.
Jennie shot you her famous gummy smile before letting out a whispered thank you.
As the both of you observed your surroundings, you realize you reached the pier.
“It’s getting pretty dark. Should you head home now?” you ask while taking in the beauty of the pier at night.
The pier was a permanent fun fair; bumper cars, the hall of mirrors, the ghost train, a loop-the-loop roller coaster and the big wheel. Waves playfully splashing below, gentle salty breeze, smoothies, burgers, donuts and cotton candy.
Jennie was equally taken by the bustling fair, shaking her head. “I think I can stay a little while longer.”
You broke out into a smile, holding out your hand. “Come on then!”
You dragged Jennie to the end of the dock before sitting down on the edge and beckoning her to do the same. When you tilted your head upward, you could see clearly millions of bright stars dotted on the black canvas of the night.
“It’s so beautiful,” Jennie mused.
“The pier is most beautiful at night. It never fails to shove aside the worries corrupting my mind even for a couple hours,” you smiled.
“Do you come here often?”
You snorted, “Are you flirting, Miss Kim?”
Jennie gasps before throwing her head backwards, erupting into laughter. “You know what I mean, Y/N! Also, what if I was?”
You decided to ignore the last part, suppressing the tingling feeling spreading throughout your body, “I used to come up a lot when Rosé and I were still struggling with the company.”
You could feel Jennie’s stare burning right through you.
“Tell me more about you, Y/N.”
Hours later, Jennie laid on her queen-size bed staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t shake the giddy state her night with you left her in. Spending time with you was filled with meaningful conversations and playful (and a little bit flirty) banter. Things with you felt natural and refreshing, like a breath of fresh air from the cocky and overconfident types she was used to going on dates with. Was this what she was missing out on when she decided to act like a complete imbecile on your date?
She couldn’t help the smile making its way to her face as she remembered the events of tonight. She felt light and warm and basically everything good in the world balled up into one. She felt like a high schooler with a crush. The thought of seeing you again tingled through her like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in her toes.
She was crushing hard.
So, when Jennie found out that Rosé was throwing a big party for her birthday next week, all she could think about was seeing you, talking to you, and maybe stealing a kiss. She was convinced she was just floating through her way on the days leading up to Rosé’s party.
The party was electric just as Jennie expected. Everyone was feeding off of each other’s smiles and fast dancing. She was in one of the lounge couches chatting with her friends sipping on a rum runner as she tried to look past the sweaty dancing bodies with the mission of spotting you.
“Jendeukie, you seem distracted!” Jisoo yelled through the music.
Jennie chuckled, feeling a blush form on her cheeks. Thankfully, the glow from consuming one or two glasses of alcoholic drinks successfully masked it.
“Excuse me for a sec,” she announced as she got up and made her way to the kitchen.
“Jen!”
She cringed as she realized who the voice belonged to. She almost forgot Kai was Rosé’s cousin and was most likely invited to the party.
“Kai, hey…” she sighed.
She was annoyed that the boy had interrupted her attempt to find you, plus she really wasn’t in the mood for small talk with an ex.
“You look ravishing tonight,” Kai smirked, reaching out for Jennie.
She quickly dodged Kai’s advances and whooshed past him, leaving the boy confused in her wake.
“Nice seeing you but I gotta go!”
She breathed a sigh of relief as she escaped her lame excuse of an ex-boyfriend but the relief was short-lived as her eyes found the scene not a couple feet away from her. You were by the sliding door that lead to Rosé’s poolside talking to some woman who was clearly interested in you, judging by the way she was caressing your arm up and down with her ugly wicked fingers. The woman started laughing and she knew you probably said something stupidly funny, reminding her of how much you made her laugh last week. This time though, Jennie was not on the receiving end of your witty remarks and she didn’t know how to feel about it.
This was probably how you felt that night when Jennie ignored your whole existence just to stare all night at her ex. Jennie felt disappointment bubble inside her as she finally decided to tear her gaze away from you and the girl. She sighed as she accepted the fact that you were done with her. Why wouldn’t you be? Did she really expect you to pine over her for years and then come crawling back just because of one night where Jennie did the bare minimum and was a decent human being to you?
Dejected, she takes a break from the loud and busy party downstairs and made her way to the upstairs balcony. The balcony was a concrete ledge with square rough edges but it quickly became an oasis to Jennie as she found comfort in the silence.
“Hey there, stranger.”
Jennie turned her head so fast she swore she almost had whiplash.
“Y/N?”
You grinned as you joined her near the railings, “The one and only. What are you doing here?”
Jennie shrugged off the bitter feeling of seeing you flirting with another girl and forced out a smile, “Needed some fresh air. How about you? You seemed really busy downstairs.”
You raise an eyebrow at Jennie’s icy tone, narrowing your eyes at the girl. What was she on about?
At your (admittedly adorable) confused look, Jennie sighed as she explained.
“You were busy chatting up a girl downstairs, were you not?”
“Careful,” you teased. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
Expecting a defensive reply, you were surprised to find the girl fiddling with her hands. “Jennie?”
You saw as Jennie struggled, clenching and unclenching her jaw, eyes closed in frustration.
“I…I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight,” she lamented, finally opening her eyes to meet yours.
“For some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you. That night at the pier…” she went on, “I realized how stupid I was for not paying attention to you sooner. This amazing person right under my fucking nose the whole time. God, I could’ve saved us both a crapload of time if I weren’t so dumb.”
To say you weren’t expecting this was an understatement. Was Jennie Kim confessing to you? You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“No use thinking about what could’ve happened if you did this or that,” you stared seriously at the girl in front of you. “Um, I’m right here now, aren’t I?”
You tried to laugh but it came out strained. You still couldn’t believe what was happening.
“So, the girl downstairs?”
“Literally just met her tonight. She’s cool. Didn’t really pay any mind to her to be honest,” you smiled.
“Good,” Jennie hummed, satisfied with your answer. “I meant what I said by the way. I’d really like to start over.”
Before you could come up with a reply, soft plump limps planted itself on your cheek.
“If you’ll have me,” Jennie whispers against your cheek.
 •
“Ugh, today was so stressful!” Jennie agonized as she plopped down on the soft cushion of your sofa. Immediately, her body finds itself entangled with yours. This, Jennie knew, was all she needed after a long day.
“Tell me about it then baby,” you started running your fingers through her messy curls while your free hand intertwined your hands together.
“First, the AC in my office broke down and I was sweating buckets half the day since the repair team didn’t arrive until 2PM,” Jennie revealed, planting a soft kiss on your neck. “To make things worse, my beautiful girlfriend wasn’t able to visit me because she had a meeting come up last minute.”
You giggled hearing your girlfriend’s words, “Clingy.”
Jennie breaks away from your hold, a wild look on her face. “How dare you! Is it a crime that I’m desperately in love with you and wanted to see you during my lunch break?”
“I’m kidding,” you chuckled. “You know I would’ve loved to see your pretty face today.”
“You better be,” Jennie taunted. “I love you.”
...
“Hey Jen?”
“Hm?”
“Remember two years ago on our first date you ignored me the whole time to glare at your ex-boyfriend?”
Your soft laugh filled them room as Jennie groaned, hitting you square on the stomach, “Don’t you dare bring that up. I don’t even wanna imagine not being with you. Just the thought makes me wanna puke.”
You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s dramatics, “Good thing you don’t have to ever live through that then.” hi:) i accept requests now
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sadpotatoondrugs · 4 years
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Time For a Change [Ch.3]
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Not even a week after Marinette met up with the school counselor, she received another letter stating the dates of her placement tests. They were each three days apart from one another, which she found nothing but stressing. While the days were intended to let students take their focus off of the test they just went through and review notes for their upcoming test, she spent those days trying not to explode from excitement.
She was glad that she made this decision this early into the year, otherwise she would probably struggle a lot more with catching up to their curriculum than she did now. Joining in the middle of the sophomore year would be a lot tougher than joining in the middle of the freshman year. From the information she was given on what to study, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that she knew the majority of it already! Which, to her relief, meant that she could take a breather for a while. She appreciated that a lot. After so many days of stressing out, she was happy to finally enjoy some time with her mom and dad playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III, helping them out in the bakery again and even just relaxing back in her room.
After her exams came a wave of freedom. Until her results came in, she would have nothing to do other than wait. And help her parents out in the bakery, of course.
“Thank you! Have a nice day!” Finally serving the last customer in line, Marinette took off her gloves and entered the bakery kitchen. Her parents were working on one of their long-term orders; A three layered cake with a lot of custom decorations that the client was very specific about. While her father worked on the foundation and the structure, her mother was stressing over making the details for the cake right.
“How’s everything going?” She asked after making sure her mom was not touching the small marzipan pieces of decoration she was working on. It seemed to be parts of very detailed flowers and leaves and she was finishing the final detailing on them, checking twice to make sure every piece made was properly decorated as the customer ordered.
“It’s a bit much, but nothing we can’t handle. Thank you so much for helping us out, sweetie.” Sabine smiled at her daughter tiredly. She sighed afterwards, turning her head down to finish checking the leaves before moving up and taking them to the main freezer.
“Are you sure I can’t help you with it? You seem like you could use some rest.” Shutting the freezer door tight and turning the handle, Sabine smiled at her before moving to her husband’s side and helping him straighten the white fudge on the cake.
“Marinette, you already helped us so much by taking care of the customers and making the majority of the decorations.” Tom answered, moving aside for his wife and helping her place the stretched fudge on the cake properly. “And you still need to finish the final touches on the dress. The wedding is in two days already.”
Oh, that’s right. Half a year back, their bakery was tasked with the catering for a slightly big wedding that was bound to happen on December 14th. Marinette, along with her parents, couldn’t be happier to find out that Nadja Chamack was going to remarry. After what happened with her past husband, they were worried she might never marry again, but here she was! Announcing not only her wedding, but their invitations along with Sabine’s task as a Maid of Honor and Marinette’s task as a bridesmaid. They accepted with a hug as they all congratulated their long-time family friend. Before she left the bakery, she asked them one more request; to cater at her wedding and prepare the cake. They immediately accepted and even offered a family discount since she was a close friend. After trying to disagree and failing horribly, she turned to Marinette with a request for a dress.
She found out that the Dupain-Chengs were all better at negotiating than her and left defeated with two family discounts on her list.
Marinette never knew she was even seeing somebody. Though, she did suspect something from the lack of babysitting requests, but she thought that Nadja hired a professional babysitter to take care of Manon. And even though she was sad at first for not getting to see Manon that often anymore (that little rascal had claimed a place in her heart), she was glad the little girl would finally have a father figure to look up to again.
She met the man when they came in to try out the flavors for the cake. He seemed like a gentleman at first, but after spending some time with him over dinner (yes, her parents invited the whole family over for supper), she found out that not only was he a gentleman, but a huge dork resided in his soul. She saw how he and Manon got along really well and how he made her and her mother seemingly happy. That was all she needed to know that he was a good man.
Marinette had enough time to plan both the wedding dress and her bridesmaid dresses – as the designer for the wedding gown, the bridesmaid dresses needed to match according to the style of the bride’s dress.
It was pretty easy to design the bridesmaid dresses, it was Nadja’s dress she was stressed about. After all, it was the first wedding dress she was going to be making. And it was for their long-time friend! She couldn’t bare to let Nadja down.
The first design was kind of a fail; she sketched a simple wedding gown with hidden underlayer of very faint pastel pink that matched the color of the flowers embedded along the center front of the dress. Sadly, she completely forgot about the wedding happening in winter and sketched the dress with short sleeves. Thankfully, Nadja told her not to stress about the dress that much and only asked for two small changes. The first one was obviously to make the dress appropriate for winter, as she did not want to freeze over while telling her vow. The second one was a color change, as the color pink was not the woman’s preference. She asked for it to be a shade of cream white instead.
Marinette, though slightly embarrassed for making the dress styled by her favorite color, changed the color and made the sleeves long, adding a furry bolero for her to cover herself with to provide more heat. Nadja approved of the changes.
Since she didn’t think about winter while designing the bridesmaid dresses either, she had to change them as well. She chose the bridesmaids to have hourglass sheath dresses of a shade of grey with the top layer being a see-through sparkling fabric. The grey layer had faint designs of white flowers to follow the wedding theme but still be vague. The dresses didn’t look right to her with long sleeves, so she only added the same white furry bodice as she did to Nadja’s wedding gown.
To top the looks off, she sketched the veil for the bride to be in the for of a flower crown, with the flowers being the same shade of cream white like the dress. The bridesmaids did not have a veil attached, but they did have their own flower crowns, only theirs were white and the petals were remarkably smaller. She was pretty bummed about not getting to make the bridesmaid dresses and having other designer make them, even the one for her. But she understood. And with the amount of work it took her to get the right materials and make the wedding gown, she was glad that she didn’t have to worry about making them in the end.
Alas, the bridesmaid dresses turned out great. After going to the designer for measurements and then the final fitting, she was satisfied with how the dress turned out. She thankfully didn’t have to pay anything (Nadja paid for all the bridesmaid’s dresses since they had to match), so she merely thanked the woman and went home to carefully put them away.
And while the bridesmaid dress took a while to make, she had it safely stored in her closet by the end of September. It looked wonderful and it fit her perfectly.
Anyway, back to the story where Marinette is leaving the bakery kitchen.
Glancing towards the bakery to see if there are any customers, Marinette takes off her apron and brings out a phone.
“…..Hello, Nadja! I’m just calling to ensure that you will meet with me for the final fitting today at four pm, is that correct?... Alright, perfect. Thank you…. Yes, they are. They will talk it over with you after the dress fitting. Okay, thank you. See you at four!” Hanging up, she sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. Bringing it over to the bakery and slipping back into her apron, she put her phone on the counter and took a sip of her coffee, watching the people outside pass by their bakery door.
It was going to be a long day.
 Somewhere around 1 pm, her parents emerged from the kitchen right as she was serving the last customer in line. She noticed her parents and gestured to the coffee machine nearby while she stepped around the counter and went to close the bakery for lunch break.
“Did you call Nadja about the dress?” Her mother asked, pouring herself and her husband a cup of coffee that Marinette prepared earlier. Marinette nodded and took off her apron, setting it aside and pouring herself a cup of coffee, too.
“I told her you would show her the cake after we do the fitting for the dress.” Sabine sighed with a smile
“What would we do without you?”
“Hired a worker, probably.” That earned her a slap on the shoulder. The family moved to their apartment and began preparing lunch. After their break was over, the trio went back into the bakery, with only Tom going back into the kitchen. Sabine stayed behind and made her way behind the counter, putting on an apron and going through the pastries to make sure every one of them is soft.
Marinette helped out for a while before her mother instructed her to go upstairs.
“We’ve got it handled from now, Sweetie. You can go upstairs.” Who was she to argue.
Thanking her mom and kissing her cheek in gratitude, she basically sprinted upstairs and into her room. As soon as she entered, she collapsed head-first onto the chaise.
“This is good.” She sighed in content “I’m gonna stay like this forever.”
“Marinette-” A scream could be heard coming from somewhere in Paris.
“Goddamn it.”
 “See, this is why we can’t have anything nice.” Marinette muttered under her breath as she watched the akuma destroy the Eifell Tower (..again. Like, seriously, what’s with the akumas always going for the tower?).
“That’s where you’re wrong, M’Lady. Paris has the nicest heroine it can have.” Sighing in relief at the sound of her partner finally joining the fight, she jumped back to avoid getting hit by the akuma’s power and landed right next to Chat Noir.
“Nice of you to drop in. The akuma is in his headdress, don’t get caught by his vines. If you do, the more you move, the tighter they get. And watch out for getting hit, too. Some of them have thorns.” Before Chat Noir had a chance to respond, the akuma noticed his presence and rushed his vines at the both of them. They jumped sideways, splitting up to outrun the vines.
“Where are all these vines even coming from?” Ladybug wasted no time in responding, circling one of the vines with her yoyo, snapping it in half.
“The vines are actually his hair. He can control them and even snap them and grow a bunch of other vines if needed. I tried getting the all stuck but-” Dodging a wild vine, she ducked behind one of the chimneys. “-they just snapped off and regrew.”
“Do we know enough?” Ladybug nodded, even though he was too occupied with the akuma to actually see it, and called on her lucky charm. A pair of scissors.
“Well, he could certainly use a new haircut.” Groaning at his pun, like usual, she looked around for any ideas. It would be pointless to cut his hair when it could immediately grow back. There was nothing that would help her find out what she was supposed to do. At least not near the Eifell tower.
“Chat Noir! We need to lead him away from the tower.”
“You heard the lady. Come on big guy. Time for your gardener appointment.” The akuma growled and went after the two heroes. Ladybug kept searching for anything that would help her think of a plan. The akuma was fortunately focused on them and caused minimal harm to the citizens around. There weren’t many of them in the first place, anyway.
She kept glancing around, thinking about any possible plans to defeat the villain and get back to her lovely unfinished nap. (Not that it even started in the first place)
“I got you, now!” In her moment of un-focus, the akuma got a hold of her foot with one of his vines and yanked her towards him.
“Ladybug!” Reacting quickly, she grabbed the scissors and cut the vine that was holding her ankle, yanking her foot away from it. It worked and she was free of the vine, but she had no time to bring out her yoyo and crash landed on a nearby roof.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” A voice not belonging to her partner asked. She looked around and spotted a girl who seemed to be about her age. Her blonde hair were put in a long braid and she seemed to be wearing a pair of overalls with a simple purple t-shirt.
But that wasn’t important.
What was important was that she was mere meters away from the akuma battle.
“I’m fine, thank you. You need to get inside, quickly.” Standing up and spinning her yoyo, she turned around to protect the girl from the akuma in case it attacked them.
“Well, as much as I would love to hide in the comfort of my room, I can’t.”
Seeing the akuma preoccupied with her partner (Who seemed to be angrier than before she got thrown away), she faced the girl once more.
“I’m dirty.” Pushing aside any remarks that came to her mind at that sentence, she glanced at the girl and noticed her hands, boots and even some parts of her overalls covered in dirt and mud. “Plus, the door got stuck.”
Sighing, she glanced around at their surroundings and registered that the roof she got crashed into was actually a small roof top garden. It clicken in her mind that the girl must’ve been working in the garden and taking care of the plants when they decided to crash the party with the akuma.
Wait.
Garden.
Plants.
“Oh and you dropped this.” The lucky charm’s pair of scissors.
She smiled at the girl in determination.
“I have a plan, would you mind helping me?”
 The akuma got easily angered once he noticed the spotted heroine destroying the lovely garden. And not only the weeds, the plants and vegetables. His focus switched immediately from Chat Noir to her, which was what she wanted. Once he was on the roof, Chat Noir resumed in distracting him. Once the akuma was near the storage shed in the garden, Ladybug smirked and grabbed a hose.
In a second, the akuma heard the snipping of scissors and felt his body get lighter. At the same time, he felt Ladybug tying him up with the hose she grabbed prior to the assassination on his hair.
“Kind of a dumb move.” He tried snipping the hose with his vines, but-wait. Where were his vines? Why weren’t they growing back? Glancing back, he saw a tan, blonde girl, holding a spray bottle.
“A mixture of salt, vinegar and water. We always have some of that around here.”
“Now, Chat Noir!”
“Cataclysm!”
In an instant, the akuma was defeated.
“What.. What am I doing here? Where am I?.. This… This isn’t my garden.”
The three fist-bumped. While Ladybug purified the akuma, Chat Noir took care of the victim and told him what happened. Ladybug smiled and turned to the girl.
“You did great! Not everybody would remain chill with us destroying their property, uh-..?” Noticing the implication, the blonde giggled.
“Allegra. And thanks, I would be pretty upset about this but this was for the greater good, so… It’s fine.”
Ladybug turned to Chat Noir, her earrings flashing that she only had two minutes left (But whatever, when did time work as it should for the miraculous). “Will you take care of the victim? I need to get going in a bit.”
“Of course, M’Lady.” He winked and, after kissing her hand lightly, Chat Noir took the previously akumatized victim and carried him to the ground floor, leaving the two girls alone.
“…”
“…”
“So.. Uh… Are you… Are you going to repair my garden, now, or…..”
“Oh! Right!”
 When she finally arrived home, she was more than happy to resume her previous plans on napping until Nadja came over for the final fitting. She woke up a few minutes prior to her arrival to get everything ready and check the dress one last time.
The woman saw the gown on many occasions when she came over to check up on it and, on few occasions, drop off Manon when she and her fiancé had a date night. Nonetheless, Marinette was still nervous about showing her the finished version of the dress. She hoped the woman would be fully satisfied, since the wedding was in two days and there was no time to make big changes to it.
A knock came from the other side of her hatch at exactly 4 PM, and she was happy to invite the woman in. As soon as Nadja saw her dress, she froze. That stunt made Marinette freeze as well, her overreacting thoughts coming out from the deepest, darkest hole in her brain as she started apologizing for anything that might be wrong with the dress.
“Marinette.” She halted her words immediately, hands freezing in the position they were in when she was explaining certain parts of the dress. Nadja smiled at her, a tear visible in her eye. “It’s perfect.” She hugged the young designer she has known since her birth. Marinette came out of her shock, smiling softly at her and hugged her back. “Sorry if I made you worried.” She stated teasingly after releasing her from the bone-crushing hug.
“No worries. I’m pretty used to it. Speaking of; I think your daughter has your strength… Phew..” Nadja giggled as Marinette let out a puff of air. She then sighed and looked longingly at the gown.
“I just can’t believe it’s really happening.” Marinette looked at her curiously. “I mean, of course I know it’s happening, I just… It seems… Unreal. Like a dream.. You know?” She glanced at the girl.
Marinette didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She didn’t need to. She knew the question wasn’t meant to be answered, it was merely rhetorical and it was more like the woman was admitting her emotions rather than asking for her input. She instead moved towards the divider and extended it, creating a temporary changing room.
“Time to try them on, then.”
 Of course, Nadja liked them a lot. She actually cried once more after seeing herself in the mirror wearing them. And although Marinette couldn’t possibly understand the emotions the woman was going through at that moment since she never even had a boyfriend so marriage was far from the girl’s mind, she could imagine the love and happiness (and maybe.. pride?) flowing through Nadja’s heart. She once thought about what her marriage would be like, back when she had feelings for a very specific model, but that image in her head died a long time ago. Along with her feelings for the boy.
After making small changes on the dress, mostly tightening spots that were loose on Nadja’s body, the dress was done and could be marked off as finished. After letting the designer take pictures of the dress alone and on Nadja for her portfolio, Nadja paid the respective price for it and thanked her again.
“Nadja… You look… Perfect…”
The two turned sideways to a teary-eyed Sabine, poking into the room through Marinette’s hatch. Upon noticing their stares on her, the woman ascended the stairs and stood before the woman in white, slowly circling her and gently touching the soft fabric. Seeing this as her que to leave the two women to talk, Marinette quietly announced her exit and left the room, only grabbing her purse and her coat on the way out.
“Hey, papa. How’s the cake?”
“Almost finished. How’s the dress?”
“Finished.” She stated proudly.
“Good job, Sweetheart. Do you know where your mother is? She suddenly disappeared.”
“I think you can go and rest for a bit. She is upstairs with Nadja and.. I think it’ll take a while. I left them alone to talk.” Tom smiled at his daughter, ruffling her hair over the counter before noticing her outfit and purse.
“It’s Friday.” At that, his face suddenly lit up and he immediately packed two croissants into  a paper bag, handing them to Marinette while kissing her forehead.
“Alright, have fun.”
“Will do, papa.”
As Marinette stepped out, she took a moment to embrace the coldness of December. Shivering slightly for a while, she took out her phone after feeling it vibrate in her purse. She smiled upon noticing the contact name and read it.
I arrived earlier. Our usual table was occupied so I found another one. You will need to head the other way.
Walking quickly to get to warmth as soon as possible, she looked at the time. It was half past five, but since it was winter, the sun was long gone from the sky and replaced by the beautiful moon. Marinette enjoyed the winter in Paris. Apart from the cold, the snow-covered Paris illuminated by the Christmas lights from people’s windows and homes, along with the streetlights, it made it all seem magical.
Not even ten minutes later, she was standing inside a small restaurant that she, over the past few months, came to love and know like the back of her hand. She followed the instructions she was told and found her friend patiently waiting for her in one of the booths. When they spotted each other, they both immediately smiled at one another and waved.
Usually, they would sit outside while drinking their favorite juice, but ever since it became cold, the outside patio had been closed. Nobody would sit in the cold anyway. The beverages they normally drank changed with the seasons, too. They both preferred to order hot chocolate or coffee, depending on the energy levels of the two.
“Hey, Kagami! It’s good to see you!” Marinette greeted, sitting down and making herself comfortable in her seat.
After a year of Lila’s manipulations and Marinette’s loneliness, Marinette decided it was time to meet new people, meet new friends. She signed up for a friendship day contest in hopes of finding a new friend. Imagine her surprise when she got partnered up with Kagami, her former love rival.
Since she didn’t have any silly crush clouding her mind anymore (mainly, her opinions), she smiled warmly at the girl. It was all weird at first, the questions she asked and how she smiled at her. Nonetheless, she was determined to give the girl a chance. Together, they got through the contest rather quickly. She was actually pleasantly surprised at how well she and Kagami worked together.
They were even close to winning the contest! They just had to split up and take selfies with the other one’s phone. Marinette quickly took a simple, peace-sign selfie with a big smile. They quickly met back up and exchanged their phones back and Marinette was pleasantly surprised to see a smiling selfie of Kagami. Kagami’s phone rang, unfortunately, and her mother was not pleased with her daughter participating in a game for making friends. She got upsed and, sadly, akumatized.
Ikari Gozen somehow knew where her daughter was and appeared before them in an instant. Marinette tried to get Kagami out of the way and hide her, but her mother was too fast and strong. She pushed her aside with a mere shove and grabbed her daughter. Marinette tried to get the girl back from the akuma’s grasp, but her efforts were futile. She yelled at Kagami to hold on, and that she was going to get help for her.
After retrieving the miraculous and informing Longg of her plan, she delivered it to Kagami. If all went according to plan, the akuma could be dealt with in minutes.
Not even a minute after the delivery was made, Ikari Gozen fell over in pain, clutching her robo-stomach and releasing immense amounts of water. She collapsed afterwards, and with the water around slowly transforming into the newest heroine. She asked Ladybug of the whereabouts of her friend, which Ladybug reassured her that she was the one who alerted her and she got her to safety. After introducing the dragon hero, Ryuko, to Chat Noir, and taking care of Kagami’s mother, the two girls were off.
After the two of them regrouping as Kagami and Marinette, the two found out that the game had already ended. While Kagami seemed a little bummed about the loss, Marinette was quick to cheer her up and the two went for their first juice together. And as it turned out, it wasn’t their last.
The two talked over the juice and when Marinette asked Kagami about her strange behavior and her mother, she got a pretty sad backstory. She felt guilt for being suspicious of the girl at first, and felt even worse when she was told that Kagami had no friends and how her mother was strict about everything.
Needless to say, Kagami was proud to say that her mother wasn’t the only contact in her phone after that day.
Anyways, forgive the author for getting sidetracked, back onto the main storyline.
Kagami smiled at her friend as she sat down.
“Hello, Marinette. It’s good to see you, too.” The waiter came and took their representative orders, smiling at the familiar customers kindly before walking away. “Did your results came in yet?”
The ravenette shook her head slightly.
“Not yet, but they should arrive by the end of this week.”
“Don’t worry, Marinette. They would be fools to not accept you.” Kagami stated, noticing the slight grimace that presented itself on her friend’s face. She tried to be more empathizing to the emotions of others, especially her friends. She wanted to let others know she wasn’t emotionless or uncaring. It was still hard for her to notice when her friends were upset or realize when her words sometimes seemed a little harsh, but it was still a work in process.
Baby steps.
“Besides, I haven’t met anybody as devoted and as talented as you. I am telling you, they will accept.”
Marinette smiled in gratitude.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” By then, the waiter came back with their orders, a simple hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream topped with chopped chocolate for Marinette and hot chocolate made of almond milk with whipped cream on top of it for Kagami. Marinette didn’t dislike the hot chocolate, it was really good, but growing up in a bakery meant a lot of homemade hot chocolate. And there was no hot chocolate in Paris that could ever top her mother’s. None.
Alas, what mattered was that she got to enjoy some quality time with her busy friend.
The two spent the next half an hour talking about anything that happened to them that the other doesn’t know about yet, bringing up what they saw on the internet, Marinette sharing the funny stories that happen with her customers, Kagami sharing her stories from fencing and business meetings, generally the two of them bonding over a cup of hot chocolate.
“Wait, it’s in two days? And you are not prepared yet?” Marinette giggled nervously. Was she supposed to prepare something?
“Well, I really don’t know what I should prepare for. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” She paused, suddenly looking lost in thought. “Maybe once. When I was a child… Hm..”
Kagami sighed.
“You said you are going to be a bridesmaid, no?” Marinette snapped out of her memory lane and nodded. “Bridesmaids are usually the ones to take care of the bride. Help her dress up, do her makeup and hair if there is no hairdresser hired for it. They are the pillars supporting the bride on the special occasion. Although… Are there any other bridesmaids?”
“Well, there are two other bridesmaids, with my mother being the maid of honor.” She nodded
“Then I guess they must’ve been the ones to help her plan the wedding and everything before the wedding. You could ask the bride yourself what is actually expected of you, but that’s up to you.” She took a sip of her beverage, finishing the cup. “Also, didn’t you tell me you were staying the night there with the other guests?”
A look of realization passed by the pigtailed girl’s face.
 Then horror.
 “I NEED TO PACK, DON’T I.”
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nypmphetsbastard · 3 years
Text
PARADIS ISLAND
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Genre: slowburn fanfiction, college!au
Pairing: yelena x fem!reader
Summary: college becomes a whirlpool of new people and emotions once you meet a woman by the name of yelena manages to weasel her way into your once perfect life and tear down everything you ever thought to be true. From religious views to friendship, she builds something new. Now, she introduces you to new world she likes to call Paradis Island.
Warnings: angst, smut, hurt/comfort, struggles with Religion, homophobic comments/people
A/N: this story is posted on ao3 {NYMPHETSBASTARD} as well as wattpad {SUGACODED} because wattpad is acting a fool and I need another place to save this story👍
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Leaving home was always a rough time for both parent and child. Anybody who grew up in a loving home tended to stick to that home like glue, not wanting to separate from it and instead choosing to go to schools and jobs closer to home, closer to family. Those without however, preferred their freedom. When the clock struck 12 and everybody went to sleep was the only time they'd have to themselves, the only time they'd ever have to feel safe and relaxed — leaving home wasn't as hard on them.
You...well you were a different story. You didn't like a lot of things, being grabbed, having things snatched out of your hands, people taking your food without permission, somebody talking to you when you're clearly trying to avoid them — the list could go on. But growing up leaving you home never seemed to cross your mind. For whatever reason you felt like things were fine at home, not perfect but not terrible either, nine year old you didn't stop to think that one day you'd have to make the decision to move away from your friends and family. The small town you were in had a lot of older people, ones that never separated from their high school popularity phase and believed that the world revolved around them and them only, the others were newly young adults seeking any way out. You hoped you'd be the ladder.
Your parents had never spoken to you about leaving the house, meaning you grew up only learning what was taught in school. World War One and two, Pearl Harbor, slavery, and other shitty thing America did and or went through throughout the course of centuries on end — all only ever learned or discussed in school. The main focus in your household was religion and religion only. It's what you grew up to be right, nothing else existed in your mind besides that.
There was nothing wrong with that. Well...until around the time high school hit. Senior year was the year stressed to you since you were a freshman, you could barley fathom the fact that you'd have to apply for colleges, work on a bunch of different essays and possibly move away when you were young and you could still barley understand it now. But it was only then, then when they had handed you that slip of paper of which colleges you were going to apply to did you realize something; you didn't want to end up in a boring old relationship with a guy from your sophomore geometry class, get married, have a couple of kids that would send you to a nursing home and never live the life you dreamed of having.
You wanted that Disney channel teenage life, teenage adventures that would give you enough memories to last a lifetime and successfully say you lived your life to the fullest. While your teenage years had been spent in a church every weekday, your nose in school books and your bedtime forever stuck at the time 8:30, you swore your adulthood would be different.
Everything would be different.
"Are you sure you're not missing anything, hun?" Your mother asked nervously watching you pack the trunk up with your suitcase and extra bags. You yawned into your hand due to the more than early hours you guys were beginning the trip in order to make it early to your destination.
"You made a list mom, I don't think there's anything I could miss." She smiled your small joke and got in the passenger seat of the car, "You know, you guys really don't have to come. It's nearly a 4 and half hour drive over there, not including the drive back." You mentioned
"We already told you we're going to stop by my mother in laws and stay for a while." Your father explained, you sighed and got into the backseat of the car.
You brought your favorite stuffy and laid your head on it against the window as you prepared yourself for the 4 hour drive from your old childhood home to a new place where new memories could be made. It felt almost nostalgic watching your entire childhood fly by from behind a window. The blue slide you loved going up and down on till you felt like throwing up. The metal pole that always terrified you trying to go down. The monkey bars you taught yourself to climb because of the lack of friends you had that could teach you. It all seemed to disappear behind flashes of trees and road as the car drifted further and further away from the place you called home.
"Morning sunshine! We're here!" Your father exclaimed, waking you out of your slumber. You groaned quietly and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, taking a moment to look out the window at the large building in front of you. Gawking at the size, you shook your head and stepped out of the car to get a closer look.
"This is much smaller than the one I went to." Mentioned your father, squinting up at the building and helping you pull your suitcase out of the trunk.
"That's because you went to community college, honey." You chuckled at your moms observation and rolled your suitcase up to the sidewalk.
"Well I'll see you guys—" you started until your words were cut off by your mother slapping her hands down on your shoulders and giving you a firm look.
"I better not come visit you in a few months and see you with a purple Mohawk, piercings and a girlfriend, you hear me?" You nodded at her dramatic remarks and felt yourself internally cringe at her words.
"Hopefully we come back to you with a kind little boyfriend and a college degree we can show off to the rest of the family." Your father said, wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulders and gave you a tight lipped smile.
"Call us when you get settled and show us your roommate."
"And if they're anything we told you to not look like or if they smoke, drink or are sexually active in public, please change roommates."
They listed off, you internally rolled your eyes but still managed to give them a nod.
"Okay, I get it. Bye." You waved them off and stayed on the sidewalk till their old beat up grey car pulled away from the university.
Sighing, you rolled your shoulders back, grabbed all your things and walked the 10 minutes all the way to your side of the dorms. Personally, you had no clue who your roommate was besides their name but you knew even if you got a wild one you wouldn't change rooms. It didn't matter to you wether or not your roommate had purple hair, while your parents and nearly everyone in life tended to stick their nose in the business of others, you had no care in the world about anybody else.
From the moment you stepped into your new room, your nostrils were immediately being wrapped in by the smell of vanilla and incense. You looked around the room and noticed that only half of it was done up while the other was plain and void of any decoration.
"Hello, who are you?" A soft voice asked politely and there in front of you stood one of the prettiest girls you'd ever seen. She was a short young woman with long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose and relaxed dark eyes.
"Oh sorry! I'm your new roommate, you're Pieck Finger, right?" You greeted her, shaking her surprisingly soft hands and placing your bags down on the floor next to you.
"Sorry about the smell, I'm lighting some incense to cleanse the new room. I just got here last night."
"Mhm, are you religious?" You asked, pointing to the black leather notebook in her hand. She looked down at it but smiled and shook her head.
"Ah no, I'm Agnostic. Although my childhood friend practices Hinduism and I guess I pick up on some things." She explained, you nodded at her words and made a mental note to ask her what the hell agnostic meant at a later time. Her eyes went down to the bags in your hand and reached out to grab your suitcase.
"Here I got this, I'll put this on your side of the bed and let me know if I can help with setting anything up." She offered kindly, you nodded at her offer and the two of you immediately got to work.
As you folded your clothes into a drawer and hung them up in a closet and Pieck finished wrapping your bed in it's covers and blankets, the two of you talked. Talked as if you'd been friends since birth. Pieck felt like someone you could truly se yourself being friends with in the long run of college, she was also someone your parents would most likely accept and allow you to stay with. The two of you bonded over certain interests, Pieck had a knack for writing — poems, full books, it didn't matter; you were the artistic one. Always doodling on something or recreating famous art paintings in your room, usually religious paintings as your parents always told you that if you were going to have painting as a hobby you might as well paint something useful.
"Finally, we're done." You sighed, exhaustedly throwing yourself onto the newly made bed. Pieck chuckled and stood up, grabbing her belongings and putting them into a small book bag.
"Hey, me and my friends are meeting in the library later, would you like to come?" She asked, you mulled over the idea for a quick second and nodded your head.
The walk from your dorm and the library gave you and Pieck even more time to get to know each other. She explained how most people from her old high school had come to the nearest college, it being this one which is why she never worried about not making any friends. Your eyes nearly popped out of your eye socket as you stepped up to the large library building, it being much bigger than any library your town had to offer. Pieck held the door open for you as you stepped in and took a moment to admire the large area.
"Psst, Pieck!" Whispered a voice, you looked over to see a brown haired woman in big round glasses waving the two of you over with a wide grin on her face. Pieck waved back and walked over the round table with the two other people sitting and you following behind her.
"Hey guys, this is my new roommate. This is—"
"Hange Zoë, nice to meet you!" The glasses wearing woman exclaimed excitedly taking your hand in her and shaking it vigorously. A nearby librarian glared her way and hushed her, she smiled and apologized to the old woman.
"I'm Porco." Replied the blonde boy on the other side of the table dryly.
You waved at him awkwardly and sat down next to Pieck, yet it was only after they began pulling out their books did you realize you had nothing with you. Tapping the dark haired girl on the shoulder, you motioned towards the bookshelf's and stood up to leave once Pieck nodded her head.
You walked around aimlessly with no true destination or book in mind till you came across a bookshelf, this one different than the others and tucked away in a little corner. It was old and basic but it still had integrity. The wood was straight and it hugged the wall. On closer inspection you could see scratches, the wood a little more pale where it had been dinged. You touched the roughness, not minding one bit and looked at the books inside. The fiction section had always been your favorite growing up, your parents believed books like Harry Potter were some sort of books that demonic and plaguing words hidden within them so you only ever grew up reading them in short amounts of time in the library before they could find you.
A small gasp made its way up your throat as your eyes landed across a book titled Alice in Wonderland, one of your top favorites. The ladder that usually came along with each bookshelf was currently being occupied yet this specific bookshelf seemed to take up nearly the entire wall of the library — this might've been one of the first things you couldn't successfully grab with ease. You reached your hand up to grab the book, your fingertips only slightly touching them before the book suddenly disappeared from your grasp and a warm presence creeped up behind you, towering over your frame.
Looking up, your eyes met a pair deep dark eyes staring down at you, the book now forgotten in your mind as it was now clouded with the face of the person in front of you. It was only after a couple seconds that you blinked out of your trance and stepped back, falling straight between the bookshelf and the person. You felt...intimidated. The person in front of you was more than taller than you, a height you thought was nearly impossible. They tilted their head to the side, bent down a bit and held the book out in their hand as your eyes stayed trained on theirs.
"Do you want it?" They asked, you nearly jumped in your skin at the sound of their somewhat deep voice.
"Huh?"
"The book." You looked down and finally registered the fact that they'd picked up the book you were grabbing at and now held it out to  you.
"O-oh right, thank you." You stuttered, mentally cursing yourself for acting this way. While your eyes strayed away from theirs, they went downward to the person's appearance.
They wore a dark green turtleneck sweater paired with high waisted black pants, accentuating their long legs and black lace up Oxford shoes — their entire appearance intimidated you. The center of their nose pierced through with silver piece of jewelry.
"I..." you regretted opening your mouth the second the words came out, "gotta go," the words spilled out of your mouth as you immediately walked around them and towards your table, the interaction still replaying in your head on loop. It wasn't until you rapidly sat yourself down next to Pieck that you felt like you could breath.
You weren't the most social person in the world but you also weren't the most nervous, but they...their presence, their height, the look in their eyes, it all seemed to send you into frenzy. Ignoring the slightly worried look you got from Pieck, you open the notebook given to you and tried to let the interaction seep away into your memories. Yet it didn't work. Every word on the paper seemed to fly over your head, your mind never sticking to the sentences given to you. Hell, you could barley read about Alice's shitty life without comparing it to what had just occurred. It was all too fresh. Too new. Too...interesting.
"Mornin' Pieck." Greeted a deep voice from behind you, turning around you were faced with a tall blonde haired man with small circle glasses resting on his nose.
"Good mornin, Zeke." Pieck responded kindly, the man looked around the table greeting everyone till his eyes met yours.
"I don't think I've met you before, and who must you be?" He bowed down respectfully and held out his hand, you looked at it confused for a second before sliding your hand into his and watching as he leaned his head down to plant a kiss at the back of your hand.
Before you could protest, a different hand gripped Zeke's shoulder, he pulled away and turned around to find his female companion standing above him with a blank expression on her face — one he'd gotten used to over the course of their friendship. Meanwhile your breath was caught in your throat at the sight of the intimidating person you'd met only moments before.
"Your book, Zeke." They said plainly, Zeke pulled away from you and took the textbook of their hands, thanking them and skimming through the textbook as both of your eyes never left theirs.
"Good morning, Yelena." Pieck greeted her with a smile, finally, Yelena's eyes drifted away from yours and were now on Pieck, the sides of her lips quirking up into a smirk for a second.
"Good morning, Pieck." Your eyes went back and forth between them in confusion until another person popped up behind Zeke.
"Hey guys, hey hange, Pieck." The dark haired man bun wearing boy said, leaning his arm against Zeke's shoulder despite them being the same height.
"Guess I'm just invisible then" spoke up Porco with an offended look on his face, the dark haired boy simply looked at him and blinked.
"Oh no I knew you were there, I just don't care. Anyways, are you guys coming to my big party tonight?" He asked excitedly, Zeke scoffed and pushed his glasses further up his face.
"Tch, we're not children, Eren. Why would we go to some teenage party?" Eren scoffed at the blonde mans response.
"Yeah obviously not you, old man, you're fucking ancient. I was talking to Pieck and..." he looked at you with a confused expression before shrugging and pointing at you, "and her."
"I'm not even that old—"
"Sorry, Eren but you already know my answer." She apologized, Eren pouted and groaned.
"Oh come on, please, Pieck? The last time you went everybody loved you, please?" He begged Pieck, placing his hands on her arm that was leaned against the wooden chair she sat at.
"Aw sorry, kid. I love them all too but I gotta tutoring session today." She apologized sympathetically, patting the boys head and turning to you, "what about you?"
You jumped at the sudden spotlight on you but shook your head regardless, "If Pieck's not going then neither am I." Eren groaned again and tried puppy dog eyes on the long haired woman in front of him.
"Look Pieck, you're deriving your new friend here with the experience of a fun college party." She smiled at his explanation which apparently told Eren enough that he stopped bugging her and stood up to his full height, slamming his shoulder into Zeke's as he walked away and mumbled something under his breath. Zeke almost turned around to go after him until Yelena outstretched her arm to stop him.
"He's a child." She pointed out
"He's a little shit, is what he is." Zeke complained, you looked over at Hange for information.
"They're brothers." She stated, your mouth made an o shape as you finally came to understand why the two seemed to have so much beef between them.
"Half brothers, Hange. Don't associate me with that brat." Zeke huffed, everyone chuckling at the mans clear discomfort with him and Eren being in the same room let alone sentence. "Anyways, we've gotta go, me and Yelena have business to take care of." Zeke said.
"Jeez, you make it sound like the two of you are hooking up." Porco mentioned with a disgusted look on his face,
"What if we are?" He joked playfully until he looked up to see Yelena towering over him with a straight look on her face, Zeke cleared his throat and shook his head, "Kidding, kidding."
The two of them walked out of the library and the three other people at your table continued on their reading while your mind was racked with a bunch of questions of the new characters you just met. You tried to avoid eye contact with Yelena when she was leaving but could still feel her piercing gaze stay onto you until she couldn't anymore.
"So are they?" You inquired with a whisper, leaning over Pieck's shoulder
"Are they what?"
"Zeke and Yelena. Are they..." you raised your eyebrows as the words clicked in Pieck's mind and the other two at the table began laughing into their books.
"No, sweetie, they're not sleeping together or dating." She denied
"Pfft, the day we see Yelena with a man is the day pigs fly." Chuckled Porco, you looked at them confused at their jokes.
"Yelena's a lesbian, babe." Pieck finished your thought and your eyes slightly widened at her response, not expecting it. Embarrassment silently creeped into your mind as you groaned and tucked your head into your arms.
"Well now I feel stupid." The three of them laughed and Pieck rubbed your back.
For some reason, those words felt like a small weight lifted off your shoulders. You couldn't understand why you felt so...happy that she wasn't with Zeke in that way. Maybe you just wanted to her friend. Yeah....that had to be it....her friend.
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musedblues · 4 years
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okay hear me out
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you're a college freshman in the 60's and have a forbidden romance with your TA, john deacon
sorry not sorry for how long this turned out 😘
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You floated through the library like you'd breezed into town with nothing better to do. Running the tips of your fingers across the spines of books as your eyes looked ahead to the upcoming shelf. Beyond spaces empty of volumes, you saw him.
John was hunched over a desk doing work with a look of concentration you'd come to recognize and adore. You breezed near, clearing your throat, sure that you were close enough for him to hear, and that no one else would. Like you knew he would, he looked up and saw you. But to anyone who might've noticed, it seemed he didn't care. You knew that wasn't true. You didn't have to look back, as you breezed behind the shelf again, to know he was going to follow you.
Funny. When you started uni, you had no idea what to expect. But besides the overwhelming amount of coursework, and the struggle you had finding friends who stayed sober enough to remember you'd become acquainted, one thing surprised you the most. Out of all the things you'd failed to properly prepare yourself for, getting caught up with a TA... with John Deacon, wasn't one of them. He was in his final year of uni, and a rather unassuming presence. He seemed to stick to the shadows, off-campus. And when he was busy with classroom duties, he was a man of few words then too.
Maybe his quiet nature was what drew you to him. You longed to know the sort of thoughts that ran through his head. If there were any of you... Or maybe it was the look in his eye, when he finally dared to look right at you. No one had ever looked at you like that. With such assuredness. Like something of you belonged to him, before he even knew your name.
After a couple weeks of gathering up the courage to trade longing gazes for something more, you'd planned to take advantage of office hours with your fingers crossed behind your back. You'd made it late that afternoon and John said,
"You shouldn't be here." As he sat hunched over a pile of work, then. Alway so determined with every task at hand.
"Why?" You dared to ask with every scrap of confidence you could feign. "Afraid you'll get in trouble?"
John shook his head of flaxen waves, ever so slightly, scribbling on the papers below his steady hand.
"Afraid you'll be a distraction."
And then he looked at you, in that way you'd come to recognize. But it was always a thrill, that stormy gaze of his. It took your breath away, and you wondered if he knew. If he'd meant to.
Now, like then, John was at your side before you could blink. His fingers lost in your hair, his mouth on yours. Every bit of him fit against you, in a way that made your heart ache at the very thought of him taking one step back.
You only had a few minutes to spare before you had to dash to a class. But you and John had gotten pretty good at this. You knew exactly where to find each other on any given day. And you knew exactly which corner of the room to escape to, where you might get to share something more than a quick kiss or two.
And besides classrooms under renovation or the restrooms outside the gymnasium that no one ever used, the back of the dustiest part of the library was easiest. With little to no traffic, and the perfect nook between shelves, you'd find John here more often than not.
He'd whisper things in your ear that echoed through your head as you sat through one of the lessons he was called in to teach. Here, he'd give you previews of things he'd invite you over to his place to put into practice on extra long weekends and rare holidays you each had nothing planned for.
But invitations over were as rare as holidays themselves. He lived alone, in the quaintest flat with navy walls and lots of extra blankets. And the nights you spent there were the highlight of every odd month.
It had gone on like this for so long, you were sure you could survive till he graduated. You'd managed to keep your distance when it counted, even on the increasingly frequent nights out with a set of mutual friends. His best mate hooked up with your flatmate, Casandra. She was older, and their match made sense. But how could you know John would be mixed among the crew you'd agreed to meet up with for drinks?
Casandra asked what had you looking so flushed as she shoved a shot into your hand. You shrugged, and said something about how bad the lighting in the pub was. And even though shaking John's hand like you'd never met before nearly made you laugh out of sheer nervousness, you managed through the night without a hitch. He kept his distance, and only shot you that thrilling look a handful of times. You didn't even talk about the run in next time you flagged each other down for a quickie behind the auditorium.
You just kept it up, crossing paths like you had been, and acting like you hadn't when your friends got together. There were ball games, movie nights, and birthday parties you'd breezed through without sitting too close together.
And there were still nights you'd stayed alone together, and those were becoming more common. John would ask you to stay over to waste days with him, and you tried your best at slyly accepting, as to not seem too utterly desperate for his company.
But you really had become attached. You weren't sure if he had, but suddenly, all you thought of was the next time you'd get to see John. Suddenly you didn't even care what it was you'd do together. Suddenly, when he caught your eye in class, you couldn't help but smile no matter who saw.
Then one of your friends bought a new place. And she invited everyone over. All the mates you'd come to love, and some new faces too, who flooded her sparsely decorated home and filled the countertops with sweets and liquor. You were the last to arrive, and when you spotted John across the room, he didn't look your way. You shrugged it off, realizing there were a lot of unfamiliar faces to be wary of, on your way to the kitchen. Still, you fetched a couple of beers and found John in the living room between a pair of art majors, rambling about something you couldn't imagine held his interest.
You approached him and extended the extra bottle, a gift disguised as a greeting- something you'd do for any friend. But without even really looking at you, John stepped to the side and mumbled something about getting his own drink. As soon as you whipped to watch him slink off to the kitchen, another pal slid up and stole the beer you had one too many of. You let him, and laughed a little, hoping to erase the furrow in your brow.
Had you done something? Stepped too close? Looked to John too fondly? Couldn't you still be friends, mixed among so many others? You had done a fine job as such so far, you thought. But something was up. You just had no idea why, or what to do about it. 
So as the night moved on, you just kept trying to act like his extra cold shoulder was in fact, the norm. You withheld a frown when John left the rooms you were in, and bit back frustrated tears when he rose from the sofa in a room sparse of people enough you'd hoped to ask him what the matter was.
And when you left on your own, you'd felt lonelier than any time just like this one. You didn't look back to see if John had rushed to meet up or stop you. Because you couldn't decide if it would be worse to find he'd followed, or not. So you went home and waited.
You lost yourself to a never-ending sea of coursework, and prayed that the next time you floated into the library that you'd find John there. You'd never questioned it before. He'd always been there.
But you were right too. Because John wasn't at the table with a stack of work under his nose, that week. You couldn't find him behind the auditorium, and the classroom was suspiciously closed during office hours. You tried not to worry. You figured maybe he needed space. So you debated for hours, the night you'd promised to sneak over to his next.
A ray of hope beamed from the light in the living room he always left on as a signal that it was safe for you to sneak over. But something was still amiss. And you knew John knew so too, when he opened the door with a pursed smile, instead of pulling you in with a sultry grin, like usual.
You lingered near the entrance with your rain-wet boots in place, your arms over your chest.
"What's wrong?" You asked with a waver in your tone.
John shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and let out a sight before uttering the word "Nothing." As if only to convince himself.
"Nothing?" You breathed. "All month you've been begging me to spend practical weeks here with you, but you wouldn't even look my way at Maureen's party?"
John paced before you, listening reluctantly.
"And I'm pretty sure they know about us, anyway. Last week Jery basically cheered us on when he noticed us trying to quietly sneak out of his walk-in closet."
John said nothing still, bringing a hand to his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose as silence stole the air from the room, and when John's silvery gaze met yours at last, it wasn't like all the other times before. There was a sadness there that drained the colour from your world, and as his mouth started to open to presumably let you down easy, you wouldn't let him.
"I'm sorry I thought this was something it wasn't." You choked out, before spinning to open the door.
John called out your name, then, and you could feel he was hot on your trail. He called for you to turn around and come back, when your feet hit the pavement. But you just kept going, too close to the verge of tears, and John couldn't see that. You marched away until his pleas for you to come back were echoes, and the sweeter things he said over the year mockingly rang in your head.
Cassandra worried over what was wrong as you stormed into your shared flat, and hurried to your room. You threw yourself to the shelter of your bed, and let out the worlds longest held breath. But you didn't let yourself cry. Not yet.
Not until the class he sat in for came around, and John wasn't there. Instead, the cynical old professor who found every reason to skip out on teaching that he could find. The guy started his course by saying something painfully vague about having to find a new TA. All during a dry lesson, you took notes and bit your lip to stop it from quivering. And when the hour was up, you hurried out into the hall and to the corner of campus no one would see you cry.
You wouldn't let yourself for long. You just allowed yourself a moment to let out a little of what you'd been keeping in for so long. All the frustration you'd been confounded by the past week, out of nowhere at all it seemed. Even the thrill of being with John was something you'd been keeping dormant, hidden away from anyone who might've caught a loving gaze or grazing of the hand. Your adoration for John and the hurt that came from his ignoring you all mixed together and weighed heavy on your heart. After your tears bubbled over, you started home with a reluctant plan.
Now, you figured it best to toss out that old jumper of his you'd stolen, the week and a half he headed home and left you all by your lonesome. You'd have to burn the notes he'd leave in your textbooks, the mornings you'd finish work at his coffee table. You'd have to spend the weekend getting over John Deacon, but you really didn't want to.
Out of all the things you'd come to expect from your first year of uni, falling head over heels for someone you just couldn't have wasn't one of them. You'd learned, over the course of time, when he'd pop into halls and pull you around corners that John was very good at catching you off guard.
So, on your sorry stroll home, when the guy on your mind suddenly appeared in the middle of your path, you couldn't be too surprised. It was like him to show up when you least expected, in good times and bad, it seemed. But the pace of John's walk stopped you in your tracks. He shouldered past groups of friends eager to kick off weekend plans they chattered about. And in a couple of strides, John was toe to toe with you. And his fingers were lost in your hair. And his mouth was on yours.
John kissed you, right there on the pavement, in front of everyone. He held you against him, a good thing too, because you couldn't be sure of your own strength to hold you from fainting into a puddle of shock. Surprise took such a hold of you that you hadn't even attempted to kiss John back until he was pulling away from you.
"I'm sorry." He breathed, searching your eyes with his in a way you recognized. "About the party, I'm sorry. Maureen asked me out for drinks and wound up finding out about us. She was so bloody pissed and we got in this big fight about morality. And she threatened to sell me out and cost my job a minute before you showed up, and I was just so caught off guard, but I should have explained so earlier." John told, keeping two firm hands on your shoulders.
Your heart sank with the weight of the realization, all too suddenly recalling Maureen, and the strange things she kept saying that night. About you, and where you belonged in the world. You figured she was just drunk, and maybe she was. But her ramblings about finding your way in life didn't seem so random now.
"So I worked it out. I managed to finish things up early. I've been here for so long, working so hard for this degree. But the moment you showed up I knew there was nothing in this world I'd ever want more." John rang, desperation pouring from his tone. His long fingers dug into your arms as he rambled, and his eyes peered into yours with such intent. "And, that can happen now. I just hope you can forgi-"
You threw yourself toward him, taking the collar of John's shirt in your fists and kissing him with all the stored up adoration you'd been collecting over the year, right in front of everybody. John held you against him, and you fit perfectly like you always had.
Then, with a coy grin, John took your hand in his and you started to walk together like a couple of bashful teens on their first-ever date. Your heart had belonged to his for a while now, though. But you could really get used to acting like it. And you didn't have to ask to know John felt the same.
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hi! i wanted to say i love reading your reflections on teaching, and in general i really look up to/am inspired by your thoughts regarding education and academia. if it's not too much to ask (completely understandable if it is, in that case please disregard!) i would love to get your advice on college related things?
i had pretty significant academic struggles throughout grade school, and ended up dropping out of college after a year. i would've graduated this may, so lately i've been considering going back and finishing my bachelor's. but i've been waffling on this decision because of 1) anxiety about having to drop out again, and 2) some confusion about what i actually want to study. i guess i'm wondering, is it worth it to start from scratch? my struggles were mostly about mental health stuff & difficulty keeping up with coursework—i loved being in the classroom, working with professors, learning from other students. i like being challenged intellectually, but if i have issues with followthrough, is there a way to work on that??? i know these are Big Questions, lol--whether they are answerable or not, cheers and thank you and i hope you are doing well these days. <3
hey! happy to give my thoughts, for what they're worth. you know your situation better than i do so the specifics may or may not be relevant, but i can give some advice just based on seeing lots of students pass through four-year programs!
i've worked with a number of students who took time away from college and came back to finish later. i took a year off myself in the middle of college for mental health reasons, though my school allowed you to take a two-semester leave of absence for any reason (so i always had the safety net of knowing i could come back without having to reapply or start over). in my experience, time away is almost always a good thing. sometimes people just really need that break from the stressors of the college environment! but more importantly, i think people benefit from having a few years' experience living and working in the world.
even though it can be intimidating to come back to college as an older student, i think older students or nontraditional students who took time off and came back tend to underestimate how much more confident and assured in themselves they'll be once they're back in the classroom. working out in the world for a while, even if it's not a job that you especially love or feel is relevant to your long-term goals, tends to help you build more trust in your own ability to get stuff done, manage responsibilities, and be an adult person in the world. in your time away, you've probably grown more than you think, and you may find that some of the things you struggled with at 18 just don't feel as daunting anymore. or they might feel daunting, but you also have more experience talking and working with other people, and you may feel more confident in seeking out & using your college's various academic success resources.
have you considered a two-year college as a possible next step? one of my advisees this year was an adult student who went to college for a year, dropped out, served in the military for four years, came back to do an associate's degree, and decided he liked school enough that he wanted to transfer to our university and finish his degree. (now he's going on to do a phd next fall!!!!) he's one of the most passionate advocates for community colleges i've ever met, and he's stayed actively involved in our local CC community & now mentors recent transfer students at our university. he's talked at length about how CCs are this amazing way for students to explore their interests without having to take on the huge price tag of a four-year degree, within a learning community that's much warmer, more responsive to student needs, and more accepting of the diverse paths that lead people to & through higher education. i wonder if you might consider taking a semester or a year of courses at your local CC, to dip your toes back in and see if you're still feeling energized by the experience.
you might find that some of the courses aren't intellectually challenging enough, but this might also be a wonderful opportunity to create the kind of learning experience you want to have. i was a full-time community college student for a year during my year away from yale, and while i'm sure i was just INSUFFERABLE in many ways, i had a prof in my Western Civ course who was really generous with his time/energy and met with me outside of class to help me figure out how to make the papers into something that i found really exciting and challenging to write. so the class kind of became what i made of it, and i got to read some stuff (dostoevsky!!!) that sent me down all kinds of interesting unexpected rabbitholes. the former CC grad i mentioned above was an extraordinarily bright student who would always go to office hours and ask his profs for more recommended readings, and he ended up becoming a TA for one of his courses and helped them redesign basically their entire intro humanities curriculum as a student advisor. so your CC experience can absolutely be what you make of it. and even if your profs can't give you that kind of support, you could practice doing it for yourself, setting little challenges for yourself either focused on the intellectual aspects ('I'm going to read and cite two scholarly sources in this paper, even though it's not required') or on developing strategies for effectively managing the workload ('I'm going to schedule a writing center appointment on Thurs, so I have to finish this paper two days before the deadline—and then I can devote my weekend study time to practicing for my Spanish test').
CC would be a slightly lower stakes environment for you to try out college again— lower-stakes both in the sense that it's cheaper (so if you decide you don't want to continue, you're not out as much money / don't feel compelled to go on to justify the debt you've taken on) and in the sense that the workload might be more manageable for you as you readjust to academic life and build systems & structures that work for you. as you probably have gathered from this blog, i am a HUGE believer in doing lower-stakes things many times over to build your own confidence and your trust in yourself, and then gradually scaling up the difficulty. by the time you reach the hard thing, you've already built up this strong image of yourself as a person who can handle challenges (and you've also had the chance to identify areas where you struggle & experiment with developing workable solutions).
if a two-year college isn't something you're especially interested in, i think it's definitely possible to start a four-year degree again. if that's the path you choose, i would strongly recommend reaching out to students in some of the degree programs you're tentatively interested in. people are almost always happy to share their ~wisdom~ (see: this ask response, lol) and most people love being asked for their thoughts on the pros and cons of something they know well. so you could get an honest sense from students of what the program is like, what the workload is like, and how useful or engaging people find the required courses for the degree. but also know that it's pretty normal to take courses all over in your first year or two (you have the advantage of having done a freshman year before, so you probably know this!), so you might just want to plan to try out a bunch of different things, with the goal of narrowing your focus by the end of your first year, or midway through your second.
i would also HIGHLY recommend spending lots of time familiarizing yourself with the resources your university has to offer. learn everything you can about the kind of mental health counseling and support they offer to students, and see if there are things you can set up in advance for yourself before you even step foot on campus. for instance, our university offers individual counseling, but they also have free groups that meet every week or two around different topics (coping with stress, students in recovery, etc) that are led by a counselor. check out your university's writing center or peer tutoring centers, too, and set up a standing appointment once a month or once a week or whatever, to bring in something you're working on—so that you know that every week, you're going to talk with someone about what's going well and what you're struggling with in your assignments.
you might also want to look into your university's services for students with disabilities office, as they can help you figure out if you are eligible for various kinds of accommodations or additional support (extra time on exams, notetaking services, recorded lectures, etc). i know you mentioned that you've dealt with academic struggles in grade school, too. if you think it's possible that there may be underlying learning differences that are affecting your academic work, it might be worth seeing if they can help you find lower-cost testing, so you can get a diagnosis that qualifies you for additional accommodations and university support.
many schools, esp large public universities, also have resource centers and mentoring programs for students from specific demographics who may benefit from additional structure and support in their early years of college. my university has a variety of resource centers and programs for students from low-income backgrounds, first-gen students, students who transferred from community college, etc. you don't have to take advantage of ALL of these resources, but proactively establishing a support network long before you need it is a really good way to set yourself up for success. and even just doing the research will probably help you feel more confident in your capacity to 'follow through', since you'll know that you're going into this with your eyes wide open AND with a detailed plan for what to do if you run into some of the same obstacles you encountered the first time around.
speaking of detailed plans: i find it helpful sometimes to do IF-THEN exercises with students when they're stressed about something on the horizon or unsure about whether they can handle some new challenge. IF-THEN is just what it sounds like: 'IF this thing I'm nervous about happens, THEN I'm going to do X, Y, or Z.' what i like about this exercise (i use it with myself too aha) is that it acknowledges that sometimes the thing you're dreading DOES happen. sometimes the professor you emailed for an extension says no. sometimes the TA doesn't understand why you're confused about the assignment. sometimes you don't have time to finish the reading before class. sometimes you overschedule yourself and you have to pull an all-nighter to finish two papers on the same night. scary things, confidence-shaking things, happen all the time, but they are rarely fatal! and there can be something really powerful about acknowledging and naming the thing you're concerned about, and then generating a few next steps you could take, should the thing you're dreading come to pass. i could see you doing something like this as you start thinking about the things that tripped you up last time, or made it difficult for you to balance the workload. if X happens, then what could you try next? giving yourself a few options means that you already have backup plans, too, which can make the whole situation less terrifying. if this happens, i might have to try this, or this, or this, and those things might not be the most fun or the easiest to do or the 'best' thing academically, but they'll get me through this difficult moment mostly in one piece, and once i'm through it i can look back on it and learn from it, or adjust the structures i've built for myself moving forward, to reduce the chance that X happens again.
PHEW!!! sorry this got so long but that is just the RISK YOU TAKE when sending me anons 😅 i hope that some of this is helpful to you, or at least sparks some useful thinking for you, even if it's not all directly applicable to your situation. i would say that if you love learning and find being in the classroom exhilarating, then you should absolutely go back to college! but that doesn't mean you have to go back right away, or that you have to go back and do it exactly the same way you did the first time. there are lots of possible paths to higher ed, and there's no particular rush—college will always be there, if it's something you decide you want now or at some future point in your life. i would also just reiterate again one of the core Themes of This Blog, which is that the brain is NEUROPLASTIC, and that humans have a truly astounding amazing capacity to change, grow, and learn new things (including new ways of getting around old obstacles or working through old challenges). just because you struggled the first time doesn't mean you are doomed to repeat that pattern. if you can spend some time thoughtfully reflecting on what you found most difficult to manage the first time through, you are better equipped to make plans, design new structures for yourself, and build the support networks that will help you thrive in college.
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