#So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 19

PREVIOUS

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2.  Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

[whiteteadreams]

Smelling Like Roses

Paring: Roommates!Nomin (Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin) x Female Reader, Na Jaemin x Female Reader

Preview: “Let’s make some porn Jaems.” He smiled at his friend and rubbed his neck. “Of us Jeno?” Jaemin’s cheeks turned red, he’s admitted that Jeno is sexy, specifically when he runs his hand through his hair, but he wouldn’t think of having sex with him, let alone making porn. 

Jeno just laughed at his reaction, throwing his head back slightly, his eyes crinkling shut. “No, Jaemin. Well, yes, I guess so. We’d have a girl involved, obviously, but you’re majoring in photography and videography, you could film, I could fuck. It would be perfect, and people love amateur porn.” 

Jaemin’s cheeks lost their vibrant color and considered the idea. He already had the camera, Jeno’s always horny. It could possibly work.

Word Count: 13.9k

Genre: Non-Idol AU, College AU

Warnings: Smut, mature language/cursing, fluff (a lot), not proofread, unrealistic porn themes i guess, not really a warning but y/n and jaemin are a complicated couple (kind of, not really)

Smut Warnings: Threesome, recording while having sex, innocent reader gets slightly used but it's consensual, jeno and jaemin are kinda mean, use of sex toys (nipple clamps, a dildo, and a vibrator, a butt plug), bondage rope is mentioned but it isn't used, hints of dumbification, praising, pet names, degradation, slight cumplay, dacryphilia, corruption

a/n: okay, so, this has a ton of fluff and to be honest i didn’t mean for it to have this much but it just happened. i hope this doesn’t suck ass and that you enjoy it.  also, let me know if i missed something with the warnings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There, the bold word read: EVICTION, to the two boys. When Jeno came home from class that day, he saw the eviction notice taped to his and Jaemin’s door, seeing the red letters immediately made his heart drop and breath pick up.

“Jaemin, man, we need money.” Jeno looked over at his roommate in time to see him roll his eyes. “No shit, Jeno. I’m so glad you can read man; college is really doing you some good.”

Jaemin and Jeno were four months behind on their rent, with partially filled promises, the boys kept asking for an extension on their deadline, but they weren’t able to make it. The landlord of the building they were staying in had been gracious, used to the tenants being college students, she was used to having deadlines not being met. Every tenant was able to make rent by the time of the new deadline. However, the renters Na Jaemin and Lee Jeno weren’t able to make it within the four extensions they were given.

“What are we going to do? We need four months’ worth of rent by the end of this month.” Jeno ran his hand through his bleached hair and tugged on the roots. “I can always pick up more hours at the café and the bookstore.” Jaemin’s eyebrows were furrowed, and he started rubbing his temples to try and soothe the oncoming headache.

Jeno heard Jaemin’s idea and spoke up, “I’ll ask for more hours at the rink, I can see if I can start teaching one of the kid’s classes.” With the taunting topic of being kicked out looming over them, imagining Jeno teaching little kids how to play hockey was able to brighten Jaemin’s mood a little bit.

“Will we even be able to make enough by the deadline just by picking up extra shifts?” Jeno asked, praying Jaemin would have a positive answer. When Jeno turned his head to look at him, all he saw was the sight of Jaemin shaking his head “no”.

“Let’s make some porn Jaems.” He smiled at his friend and rubbed his neck. “Of us Jeno?” Jaemin’s cheeks turned red, he’s admitted that Jeno is sexy, specifically when he runs his hand through his hair, but he wouldn’t think of having sex with him, let alone making porn.

Jeno just laughed at his reaction, throwing his head back slightly, his eyes crinkling shut. “No, Jaemin. Well, yes, I guess so. We’d have a girl involved, obviously, but you’re majoring in photography and videography, you could film, I could fuck. It would be perfect, and people love amateur porn.”

Jaemin’s cheeks lost their vibrant color and considered the idea. He already had the camera, Jeno’s always horny. It could possibly work.

“What kind of video should we make then? You watch too much porn for your own good, in my opinion, so you should have a whole porn library in that head. The only type of library for that matter.” Jaemin wasn’t liking this idea, but if it would keep them in their apartment, he would be able to be convinced.

Grabbing his phone, he searched for one of the many videos he had saved. There was a specific type of video he was thinking about. “I’m going to ignore your comment about the amount of porn I watch, I’m an adult, I can do what I want. But anyways, how about a casting couch video? They’re pretty hot if you ask me and they're popular videos.”

“What exactly is a casting couch?” Not wanting to chit chat about porn for too much longer, Jaemin asked the question he wasn’t exactly wanting the answer to. Jeno turned his phone around to show Jaemin the screen.

“Well, normally it's a younger and sort of innocent girl who is new to the industry, and the person behind the camera kind of uses her a bit, for their own pleasure and to get a good video.” He was starting to get a bit excited, the thought of possibly being able to make his favorite type of porn was finally catching up to him.

“That's a bit fucked up Jeno.” Although Jaemin voiced disgust for it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen. There was a girl on the couch looking up at the camera while playing with her clit, the man holding the camera had two fingers in her mouth and was fucking them down her throat, drool was spilling out the sides of the girl’s mouth as she was gagging. Her motions on her clit were speeding up and she was about to cum until the man removed his hand from her mouth and took her hands off her pussy.

“Yeah, but it's hot, popular, and cheap to make. All you need is a couch, a camera, and a girl.” They had a couch, Jaemin had a camera, all they needed was a girl. “Who are we going to do this with then?”

"What about the girl you've been seeing for a bit Jaem? She's cute, seems innocent enough, and there's a good chance she’ll be comfortable around you." Jeno asked as soon as he saw a message from you light up Jaemin's phone. Jaemin saw where Jeno’s line of sight had gone and so he snatched his phone off the table as quick as possible. You were his.

"Y/n? Her and I are getting somewhat serious, and I really like her, I'd hate to scare her off." Jaemin also didn't really want Jeno touching you.

"Well, don't you think she'd feel weird if you were filming another girl?" Jeno had Jaemin cornered, he would only want to do this with you and not another girl, but on the other hand, he didn't want you to be too freaked out. Even though Jaemin didn’t want other people to see you like that, specifically Jeno, he couldn’t help but imagine the sight of you in a state like that. He liked that sight, a lot.

"I guess we can bring it up when she comes over for dinner tomorrow." As soon as Jaemin gave in, Jeno grabbed his laptop off the table and headed to the couch.

Jaemin walked over to where Jeno was now sitting to see why he had grabbed his laptop so quickly. He assumed Jeno had gone onto Pornhub to gather ideas, or to just get horny. But once the screen of the computer was visible to him, Jaemin saw him on a website that sold sex toys. Sighing and starting to regret sawing he’d ask you, Jaemin tried to take the computer from Jeno.

“C’mon man, we’re not trying to torture her here, I thought we’d go a vanilla route for the time being.” Jeno however, was able to move the computer out of Jaemin’s reach. “Now why would we do that? People like kinky shit Jaems.” Rolling his eyes once again Jaemin argued, “No, you like kinky shit.”

Even though Jaemin acted as if he was revolted, he’d would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of doing those types of things with and to you. Tying you up, not letting you cum, not letting you stop cumming, making you cry, fucking your pussy while shoving a dildo down your throat, using an inflatable butt plug, dressing you up in frills and fucking you dumb, the list was honestly endless. Jaemin didn’t tell anyone about what he wanted to do to you, not Jeno, not you, he barely liked to admit it to himself.

He was too distracted with imagining you screaming his name that he didn’t notice Jeno calling his name until he slapped his back. “Thinking about this?” Jeno’s voice wasn’t teasing, at all, which is what Jaemin would expect. “Yeah, I am.” He nodded and looked back at the screen that was on his friend’s lap.

They spent the rest of the day looking at various sex toys, adding them to the cart, removing them from the cart, just to add them again. Nipple clamps, dildos, vibrators, a butt plug, and rope. Jeno was the one that initially typed the items in the search bar and added them to the cart, but Jaemin didn’t oppose to a single one. For needing money, they spent more than they wanted, but in Jeno’s words, “You have to spend money to make money Jaems, and don’t worry man, this is good for the economy.”

Without another word between each other, Jeno clicked on the cart and then pressed checkout. 200 dollars of sex toys was now charged to his credit card, he went on about how they weren’t going to use cheap toys on you. Jaemin just let out a heavy breath through his nose and leaned back. Dropping his head so it was leaning on the back of the couch, he stared up at the popcorn ceiling, worried that this was going to lose his chance with you. You guys weren’t necessarily official yet, but you had established you guys liked each other, and you weren’t seeing other people.

Jaemin was hoping that this wouldn’t change anything between you. He liked the nights where you two would get dinner and eat it on his couch in front of the TV. He liked when you would demand you help him wash the dishes. He liked when you two would cuddle on the couch, picking up on the movie you paused to wash dishes. And he loved when you would fall asleep on his shoulder, your cheek smushed into him, with your lips pouty. He would always turn off the TV, quietly pick you up, and bring you to his bed.

He knew it was creepy but after he laid you down, he would stand back up, go to the other side of the bed to lay down and watch you sleep, just for a little bit. He liked the peaceful way your chest would rise and fall, the small snore that left your lips, it wasn’t loud and obnoxious, Jaemin thought it was cute, and he found himself longing to hear it during the nights you didn’t spend next to him.

When he felt his eyes get droopy and the yawns became more consistent, Jaemin would pull you to his chest and tuck his face into your neck. His breath would slightly tickle your neck, causing you to wake up and giggle. Jaemin would feel the bed move as you rolled over to face him, seeing your squinted eyes even in the dark look at him.

“Hi Jaem.” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, but before he could respond, the silence was soon replaced with that quiet snore. Jaemin smiled, remembering the time you told him you slept better next to him, he noticed how once you got tired, you immediately fell asleep, always snuggled into his side, no matter the position, or even the place.

The peaceful memory was ripped from him by Jeno shouting next to him, having grabbed a video game controller, Jaemin hadn’t seen him change the TV input to play one of his many games, and now he was screaming at the TV.

“I’m going to my room Jeno.” Just receiving a grunt in return, he walked down the dark hallway, it was still light outside when they started talking about this whole thing, but now it was dark, and he was wishing you were lying in bed next to him.

It was you who originally said that you slept better next to him, since you guys started sleeping next to each other on a semi-normal occasion, Jaemin realized that he slept better next to you as well.

Blindly reaching around for his phone, he found it in the mess of sheets on top of him. Squinting once the bright light appeared in the dark room, he was met with his home screen, which was a picture of you.

You two had gone out into the downtown area of the city one night, just walking around in the then chilly air. Jaemin looked down at you and saw the way the bright lights reflected in the lens of your eyes. Discreetly putting a little bit of distance between you, using the oncoming flow of people as an excuse, he pulled out his phone’s camera, and as soon as the people passed, he snapped the picture.

It was slightly blurry, but still clear enough to see you. The lights behind you illuminated your figure, which was covered with dark clothing. Your head was tilted up, your smile was wide, and you looked absolutely beautiful to Jaemin, and that’s when he came to terms with his love for you. Although, he decided that it was way too early to actually express it verbally to you. So, he waited, and waited, continuing to show you his love in other ways, but then this happened, and of course you were Jeno’s first choice for this.

Jaemin pressed his thumb where his phone said, and it unlocked, showing yet another picture of you, but he was also in this one. It was one of your first outings and he took you to a small café, opting to sit next to you rather than across from you, he asked to take the picture, naturally smiling when you laid your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arm around his. Your upper lip was covered in a foam that was tinted green from your matcha latte, and his was covered in whipped cream, from his hot chocolate that was the kid’s temperature.

Forgetting why he got his phone out for a minute, too distracted by the picture of you two, he suddenly remembered and pressed the message icon.

Having texted you last, you name was at the top, your profile picture the same one from his lock screen, and he smiled every time he saw it. He just smiled every time he saw you, or heard you, or thought about you. He just smiled at you.

Jaemin: hey y/n, are you awake?

<Y/n3: yeah, just doing some studying, what’s up? are you okay?

He smiled at your immediate response and worry.

Jaemin: yes, i’m fine, just miss you. can you come over?

<Y/n3: is jeno there? i’m still studying and he likes to scream at the tv until 3 am

Jaemin: yeah, he’s here, is it okay if i go over to you instead?

<Y/n3: i would love that, see you soon

Jaemin ripped the blankets off of him, grabbed his keys, ignored Jeno when he asked where he was going so late, and left. When it had something to do with you, Jaemin couldn’t do anything until he saw you. Speeding on the way to your apartment, he pulled into the parking spot next to your car and ran to the door of the lobby. Jaemin wasn’t even sure if he remembered to lock his car, but he wasn’t worried

about that. You lived in a safe part of town, too worried and scared about the world to live somewhere that wasn’t considered secure.

As soon as Jaemin made it into the elevator and tapped your floor number, he pulled out his phone to text you that he was in your building. Your building allowed late night visitors, but they weren’t too fond of it, so to not get you in trouble he always texted you so he wouldn’t have to knock. Also, late at night, you would always worry when he used to knock, scared that it wasn’t actually him, and some random stranger was at your door.

Texting you again to say that he was at your door once the elevator doors opened, giving you time to get to your door before he truly arrived. One time he texted you that he was there as soon as he got to your doorstep, and the building manager that was there during the night shift got on to him about how the residents don’t like people to come in and out of the building after 10, mostly because you’re the youngest tenant in the entire the building, its filled with mostly older people, that is why it’s considered safe.

He heard your door open and saw your head peak out once you saw he wasn’t right in front of your door. You looked down the hallway one side and then the other, and that’s when you saw him. Jaemin’s smile stretched from ear to ear, it pushed the apples of his cheeks up and he jogged the rest of the way to your door. You giggled when he appeared right in front of you and gently grabbed the sides of your face and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. His thumbs rubbed your cheekbones and both of you smiled into the kiss.

“Hi Jaemin.” You whispered into his mouth. “Hi Y/n.” He just whispered back and pulled away, still holding you close. “I just really needed to be with you.” Jaemin’s cheeks turned red at his admission, glad that your living room was dark so you couldn’t see how red they truly were.

“I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve been missing you; I just didn’t want to bother you.” Jaemin gasped, “You could never bother me, I’d drop everything for you Y/n.” He leaned back in, trying to start a heated kiss when you placed your hands on his chest, keeping him at arm’s length. “I wasn’t joking about studying, you horndog.” Jaemin just laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist as you turned around to head back to your room.

And studied is what you did, you studied at your desk and Jaemin sat on your bed, looking at you. He watched your facial expressions change once you went from topic to topic and subject to subject through the little mirror that sat on your desk. He wasn’t expecting your eyes to meet in that little mirror, but they did, your droopy eyes had a knowing look in them, and he looked a bit lowered to your mouth which showed a matching yet tired smirk.

“Quit looking at me Na, I’m focusing.” Your comment was interrupted by a yawn. Jaemin’s face disappeared from the mirror as he got up, you spun around in your chair slowly and looked up at him as he walked from your bed to you. Jaemin placed his hand under your chin and looked into your eyes. He saw how tired you were, and his hand moved to the top of your head, he ran his fingers through your hair and watched your eyes flutter shut as he started to massage your scalp. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Jaemin ignored your pouts and protests and reached around you to pull the string of your desk lamp. He took your almost limp arms and put them around his neck and picked you up by under your thighs. “Have you already brushed your teeth?” Laying your face on his shoulder, he felt you nod. He could tell you had already brushed your teeth for the night from the kiss you two shared earlier, but of course he didn’t mention it, not wanting to embarrass you and pull you out of the peaceful and sleepy state your body and mind were in.

Jaemin walked to the foot of your bed and sat you down on the fluffy light pink comforter. “Y/n, is it okay if I take your bra off? I know you don’t like sleeping in it.” Keeping your eyes close, you just nodded again. You felt Jaemin’s warm hands reach underneath your shit, brushing your cold skin, his hands met at the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it and looked at you while you kept nodding off, and then jolting awake, and then nodding off again. Jaemin finished taking off your bra and gulped when he could see the shape of your breasts bounce underneath your shirt when they were no longer supported.

Trying to cleanse his thoughts, he mumbled, “Come on Y/n, let’s get you under the covers.” You let him move you to the head of the bed, you liked the feeling of him taking care of you and Jaemin liked taking care of you. Under hooded eyes, you watched him pull the blankets back, a mix of baby blues and pinks flashed, before you just saw black. Jaemin let you get yourself under your blankets as he turned off the other lamp you had beside your bed.

“Nana.” You whined before you felt the bed dip under Jaemin’s weight. Before he was even able to lay all the way down and pull the blankets up to his chest, you were already laying on top of him. You felt his hand run through your hair like it did earlier, but this time it would venter down to your back and back up, rubbing up and down, lulling you to sleep. “I love you Jaemin.” He froze his movements, too overwhelmed now, everything he’s ever wanted to hear, has now reached his ears. “I love you too Y/n, so much.”

All he heard was some inaudible muttering, which was followed by soft snores. Jaemin could feel each of your cool inhales and the warm exhales on his bare chest, and he couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather be. One thing he could think about however was that he wasn’t going to let Jeno lay a single finger on you.

Jaemin was getting slightly worked up, mad at the thought of Jeno even thinking about touching you, but once he focused on the way your breath was hitting his chest, he eased his way to sleep with thoughts of you.

Jaemin and you both were restless sleepers but next to each other, you were still and slept through the entire night. The calm feeling of sleep was pulled from you when you felt Jaemin get up. Your eyes fluttered open, and you saw his bare back sitting up. Running your hand up and down his bare skin, he grinned and turned towards you.

“C’mon, Jaemin, lay with me some more.” Jaemin sighed and looked at you, your skin was glowing from the morning sun peering in from the blinds. “I wish I could Y/n, but I’ve got two classes.” You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, which is why you let yourself stay up late the night before. “Can’t you skip it? You skip to hang out with Jeno all the time.” You were right, and he knew that you knew that you were right. It didn’t take any more convincing from you to make Jaemin stay. He made the mistake of looking into your eyes and he could’ve sworn they pulled him to lay back down.

You grinned at Jaemin once he side-eyed you, “Nana? What are we?” Silence fell upon the room until Jaemin spoke up after a few minutes. “Well, I love you and you said you love me. I only see you and you only see me. I would like to say we’re together, but that’s up to you as well, but before you answer, I do, um, have something to tell you and it may or may not change your view on us.”  That worried you a bit, especially since Jaemin refused to look at you in the eye.

“What happened Jaemin?” The next the thing that came out of Jaemin’s mouth was almost inaudible because of how fast he said it. “Slow down Jaem, I couldn’t understand what you said.” You giggled, mostly because of the blush on Jaemin’s cheeks. But Jaemin didn’t repeat it, he just said, “You’ll find out tonight at dinner, you’re still coming over, right?” You sigh, although you didn’t want to wait to find out, you just nodded at him and let out a little smile.

Jaemin ended up skipping both of his classes to spend the day with you, and throughout the day you asked him several times what he was going to ask, and why you had to wait until dinner. He almost broke a couple times, but in the end, he decided that it would probably be a good idea to have Jeno there too. Just so, when you were asked, you’d know that Jeno would be heavily involved.

He wished the day went by slower, even though that was impossible whenever you were around. Time seemed to fly by with you. On the way to his and Jeno’s apartment, Jaemin hoped that every stop light was red, but it seemed like the universe wasn’t on his side with this one. And whenever he did get his wish and got a red light, you’d sigh, sitting in the passenger seat in the complete opposite state as Jaemin. While he was dreading tonight, you were aching for it. The curiosity was killing you.

Sure, Jaemin didn’t want to be evicted, he just wished him and Jeno had a bit more time, or at least enough time to come up with a better idea. He cursed Jeno’s horny brain for this being the first idea it came up with and he cursed himself for agreeing with it so easily.

“You know Y/n, how about we skip out on dinner and go somewhere just the two of us?” The dark-haired boy spoke up as soon as he pulled into his apartment complex’s parking lot. “Seriously Jaemin? I’ve been waiting all day, if you don’t want to come then you don’t have to, but Jeno is expecting me, and it would be rude to cancel on such short notice.” Not saying anything else, Jaemin just grumbled and got out of the car, he definitely wasn’t going to leave you alone with Jeno.

When you got out of the car, Jaemin had a hard time keeping up with you, he was hoping to walk as slow as possible but you speed walked your way to the elevator, pressing the button as quickly as possible. Jaemin got to your side as soon as the doors opened, he was praying the elevator had broken over night, but of course, it hadn’t.

“I don’t think whatever happens up there is going to change anything Jaem, I meant what I said last night.” You walked a bit closer to him, wanting to comfort him while also giving him space. It seemed that space wasn’t what Jaemin wanted, because he grabbed your hips and pushed you into the wall behind you, your back pressed against the wall and his front pressed against yours. “Jaemin, what if the doors open before your floor and someone sees?” “Let them, they can take the stairs.” Dodging your pouted lips, he went straight for your neck. Planting wet open mouth kissed along it and aiming for his goal, which was to leave a mark.

Once Jaemin found your sweet spot, he starting to suck a bruise onto your skin, with caused you to let out a moan. He chuckled against you skin and whispered, “I haven’t even done anything yet.” You choked a bit and whispered, scared that if you were in louder you were going to moan again, “What are you going to do?” Instead of giving a response, Jaemin just removed himself from you and fixed the front of his shirt, that was now wrinkled from you grabbing and pulling on it. He took a step back and placed himself in his original standing spot of the elevator. “Jaemin?” You were still breathing heavily, slouched against the wall of the metal box.

The doors opened and he just turned his head to you and grinned, “Are you ready? You were so exciting to come tonight.” Upset at the man that had started to get you worked up, you just pushed past him and made your way down the hallway where his and Jeno’s apartment was.

It didn’t take long for Jaemin to catch up with you, he didn’t want Jeno to open the door to just you, he felt the need to monitor what was going to happen as soon as you step foot through that door. You went ahead a knocked and not a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Jeno with messy hair, sweatpants, and a muscle t-shirt.

“Hi Jeno! How are you?” You asked the blonde man as he stepped aside to let you and Jaemin enter. Jeno eyes racked down your back, landing on your ass, until Jaemin walked right behind you, hiding your body from Jeno’s view. Before speaking, he grunted, “I’m not doing too bad Y/n. I already have the food out, let’s go ahead and eat.” This made you wonder even more about what Jeno and Jaemin were going to ask you, they both were in on it.

While you ate your meal, Jeno and Jaemin just stared you down, not letting a single motion escape their watch. Jeno’s stare was more intimidating but because of Jaemin’s behavior today, his was the one you were scared of the most. You didn’t want to look at either of them and to be honest, you were unable to maintain eye contact. Your meek look wasn’t any competition for their daunting ones.

You just settled with staring down at your plate, to see it empty, swallowing the last bite, you were now anticipating what was next. Jeno, however, didn’t make you wait long.

"Y/n, we have a few questions we want to ask you." Jeno smiled and sung your name as he got up from his seat. Jaemin, following in suit, also got up and slowly walked over to where you were seated and looking up at them curiously.

You looked over at Jaemin with wide eyes and your head slightly tilted. You could make Jaemin fold and cause him to lose his intimidating facade with that look, but he kept his composure.

Jeno however, wanted this, very badly, and so he continued to look down at you as he slowly walked around the table to your side, dragging a finger across the smooth wooden top as he went on. In the back of his mind, he knew that the need to fuck you, wasn't just to make money, he had always been jealous of Jaemin since you started hanging around him. You were always clinging to him and looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, all Jeno could do was stare daggers into you and his friend.

"What kind of questions do you guys want to ask me?" Always so oblivious, you paid no mind to their lustful stares and asked for the questions with a smile on your face.

Sharing a glance with the man across from him, Jeno smirked and let the questions go. “To start off, have you had sex before Y/n?” Now, Jeno knew the answer to this, he’s heard you and Jaemin before. Your loud whines and moans that mixed with Jaemin’s low grunts. But he asked this just so he could see the look on your face. He made sure not to miss a single movement out of you. The small jerk your entire body made, the small gasp that left your slightly parted lips, and the sheepish look you gave Jaemin.

Jaemin could tell that Jeno was making you nervous, whenever you got nervous, you would start shaking. You were already doing that, and soon you’d start pacing. Jaemin made sure he was close to you without overwhelming you even more.

“Um, yeah, I uh, I’ve done it before.” Jeno loved the way you looked down and to the side out of embarrassment. But he hated the way Jaemin smirked and winked at him, because Jaemin, Jaemin knew him better than anyone else and Jaemin knew that Jeno wanted you. Jaemin only thought Jeno wanted to fuck you, and to be fair, Jeno did, he really, really wanted to fuck you, but he also wanted you. Just you in general, he wanted you the same way Jaemin had you. Even though Jaemin knew him better than anyone else, Jeno would make sure that Jaemin never knew the extent of his want for you.

Plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his face, Jeno asked something that was completely see-through to Jaemin. “Y/n? Are you on any form of birth control?” Without looking up, you just nodded. “That’s really good, so responsible of you.” Both boys noticed what the praise did to you, you shifted in your seat and “subtly” squeezed your thighs together.

When Jeno stepped even closer to you and crouched down to your level, and asked, “Are you wet right now, Y/n?” That’s when you got up to start pacing, and so Jaemin swooped in and took you in his arms. Quietly shushing you and rubbing up and down your back, he looked at Jeno who had gotten up and smiled, a bit sadistically.

Looking down at you, Jaemin switched his smile to a much more innocent one and leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. The kiss didn’t stay sweet though, quickly Jaemin heated it up and of course, you let him. He ran his tongue across the seam of your lips and wiggled its way through. But your modest self, placed your hands on his chest and softly pushed him off of you, still keeping him close.

“Jaemin, this is nice and all, but uh, Jeno’s right there.” You looked up at him with doe eyes and then looked behind you, over your shoulder at Jeno, who just smiled and waved his hand.

Now it was Jaemin’s turn to ask you a question. “Y/n, would it be okay if Jeno touched you a bit?” A bit. That was an understatement. If you said yes to this, Jeno wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go on without touching you.

You looked back at Jaemin with wide eyes, and you figured that was the question he was putting off asking, but it turns out, it wasn’t just that. “And would it be okay if Jaemin filmed me touching you?” When you went to looked behind you again, Jeno was much closer than before, he was so close that when you turned your head, your line of sight was right to his chest, which was pressed against you.

“Like, porn?” You whispered the last word, embarrassed to be saying it out loud and that made both Jeno and Jaemin laugh. For some reason, being in between the two men while they’re laughing at you, made the area between your legs throb a bit. “Yes Y/n, like porn. You see Jaemin and I are being evicted and we figured that a quick way to make some money was to use a pretty girl like you. We’d make you feel so good, Sweetheart. You want to be our good girl, don’t you Y/n?” You felt Jeno’s mouth on the shell of your ear and Jaemin’s gaze was casted down to your lips and all you could do in that moment, was nod. And that’s when both boys snapped.

Hands were grabbing you, lips were on you, and their crotches were grinding against you. “Are we starting this now?” You whimpered out as Jaemin humped your front that was starting to ache even more. “No, we aren’t. We bought some things for it, and they’re supposed to arrive tomorrow night.” Jeno cleared his throat and stepped back, watching Jaemin continue to kiss you.

Jaemin hadn’t even realized that Jeno had stopped, until the blonde cleared his throat yet again, and that’s when he looked up with swollen lips. Your lips followed him when they parted from yours, he smiled at you chasing the kiss and looked back up to Jeno.

“You said that they’re supposed to be here by tomorrow night?” Jaemin asked the man across from him and saw him bob his head up and down. “Are you okay with doing it on such short notice?” Once again, you did the only thing your body allowed you to do, which was nod.

Jaemin and you didn’t stay at his apartment for much longer after the conversation occurred, he figured you should probably be as comfortable as you possibly can before the time comes. And you said you’d be the most pleasant in your bed with Jaemin beside you.

So, that’s what you two did, he drove you two back to your apartment, but first he stopped so you two could get ice cream, in hopes to calm your nerves.

The sweet aroma mixed well with the cool temperature that greeted you when you first walked in. The light pink and blue stripes on the walls soothed you, reminding you of the colors of your bed set and décor. You leaned into Jaemin, the warmth of him and the cold of the building made you sigh, as well as goosebumps rise along your arms. While you looked at the wide variety of flavors, being 31 of them, Jaemin ran his hands along your arms, warming them up.

“Hi, how may I help you today? Are you wanting to try any flavors?” The young boy looked at you from behind the counter and smiled a toothy grin. Not over 16 years old, no doubt saving up for a car or college. Jaemin spoke up from behind you, knowing you hated ordering what you wanted. “Can we just have two scoops of cookies n’ cream in a bowl please?” He felt you tug on his arm, and then felt your lips by his ear. “Remember the upside-down cone.” You lowered yourself from your tippy toes. “Ah how could I forget the upside-down cone?” He turned back to the boy and added, “And can you add a cone to the top of that please?”

The boy gave a look to Jaemin that showcased confusion. “Do I just-”, Jaemin smiled and answered the boy immediately, “Just set it on upside down please”. The boy just smiled again, eyebrows furrowed, obviously never being asked this before.

You and Jaemin stepped aside to allow the other people in line to step forward, and you two watched the teenage boy take the two scoops of ice cream in a bowl to where all the waffle items were. He took a cone and looked at it before carefully placing it on top of the ice cream. He returned to the edge of the counter and handed it to Jaemin, who said thank you and walked towards the door, with you still hanging onto his arm.

“Now let’s you home.” Jaemin looked at you, who was already eating the waffle cone and laughed as he unlocked his car.

The rest of the night went by pretty quickly, you spoon-fed Jaemin bites of ice cream while he drove, laughing if some of it dribbled onto his chin and shirt. You let yourself drift into a specific state of mentality that only Jaemin can bring out. This caused you to forget about what was going to happen the next night, you were excited for it but also nervous, but you knew that Jaemin would be monitoring the entire thing, literally and figurately, so you were in safe hands.

You and Jaemin finished the ice cream and waffle cone and you set the empty bowl into the cup holder, your eyes had started to glaze over with drowsiness and your body and mind gave you no strength to continue to keep your eyes open. With your head against the cool glass of the window, you were lulled to sleep.

The only thing that woke you up was Jaemin lightly patting your pockets for your keys. “My left one.” He whispered a thank you and slightly moved you in his arms, so he had access to said pocket. From picking you up and out of your seat in the car, to walking to your bedroom, Jaemin never set you down once. Nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, caused you to fall asleep again before your head even made it to the pillow.

You woke up the next morning just like you did the morning before, this time though, Jaemin was still lying next to you, he was already awake and quietly looking at you. You felt his warm hand on your lower back as your chests were pressed to each other. “Good morning, Nana.” He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips instead of answering. “You’re so pretty Y/n, you know that right.” You just blushed and looked away. “Jaemin…” You drug the ‘min’ of his name on. “You are Y/n, most beautiful woman in the world.” Giggling, you swatted at his chest.

He grabbed the hand that was lightly hitting his chest and brought it up to his lips. Placing light kisses on your fingertips, he asked if you wanted a rundown of what was going to happen that night. You shook your head no and decided you wanted the surprise. “I will tell you that Jeno and I are going to act a little mean, but we don’t mean what we’ll actually be saying.” Not understanding what he was saying at the moment, you just decided to go along with it, remember to keep it in mind later.

Later came much sooner that both you and Jaemin thought it would, because one minute you two were laying bed, slowly making out and then the next, you were driving to Jaemin and Jeno’s apartment for the second time in 24 hours.

Much like the night before, Jaemin was dreading the arrival to his apartment, only this time, you too, were not looking forward to this. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. You were excited, and you seemed to be horny all day, from trying to make something more out of the slow make out session you two shared in bed, which Jaemin said “no” to because you needed to say your energy, to damn near getting on your knees and begging Jaemin to join you in the shower. Which he did end up giving into your pleads, but he still forced himself to refuse to allow anything sexual to happen. Jaemin knew that you could get worn out from sex and then be tired for the rest of the day, and you had a big night ahead of you.

Thinking about what was going to happen, your mind went to auto pilot and the next thing you knew was you were standing in their apartment as Jaemin went to get him camera from his room. Jeno hadn’t said much to you since you arrived, he only really nodded in acknowledge when you sheepishly entered his apartment close behind Jaemin, not letting go of his hand. You reminded him of a child about to go into a haunted house with their parents while they were young, wide eyes, their whole body shaking, and hiding behind them for protection.

Jeno did approach you after Jaemin left to go to his room and handed you a light pink box with a slightly darker pink bow. “I, uh, I mean, Jaemin and I, got this for you to wear, sorry if it doesn’t fit super well, I- Jaemin and I weren’t positive on what your size was.” You accepted the box and looked up at Jeno with the same scared look you had when you first walked into the room. As you were walking away to go put whatever was in the box on, you thought about how Jaemin did know your size, he loved buying you sweaters he knew you loved, and it wasn’t like him to forget random things about you.

You passed your lover in the hallway after he grabbed his camera, “Can I just change in your room Nana?” You held up the box to let him know what you were talking about, but he still looked confused, like he’s never seen that box in his entire life. But he still responded with, “Yes, of course you can, I didn’t see you have that with you in the car?” He thought it was something you had bought at some point in the past two days, even though he was with you for every minute. He also didn’t know why you would’ve put that in a decorative box if you had already owned it.

When you answered him, he felt his blood run cold as well as boil at the same time. “No? Jeno said that you and him got it for me to wear during this whole thing.” He just looked back at the box, shot a fake smile to you and went straight into the living room, which is where Jeno was. Jaemin made sure his door was fully shut with you inside before he started, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He put his camera down so he could shove Jeno. Only stumbling back, Jeno just rolled his eyes and tried to justify his perverted tendencies. “It’ll be good for the video, man. Trust me.”

That only made Jaemin even more angry, “Trust you? I’ve seen the way you look at her, I saw the way you looked when you suggested her for this, you looked like a dog that was begging for a bone, fucking drooling just at the thought. How can I trust you when you can’t get my girl out of your horny mind?”

Shaking his head in disbelief he went to where he set his camera and tripod down and walked back to the middle of room, he was trying to calm down, not wanting you to worry.

Jaemin was getting his camera set up, when he heard his bedroom door open. Him and Jeno exchanged glances as they heard your soft footsteps pad their way to the living room. “Jaemin? Can you come here for a second? Please?” Nodding at Jeno, Jaemin stepped away from his tripod and turned the corner that led to the hallway. And that’s where he saw you.

He looked at you up and down and tried not to pounce on you immediately, Jaemin wouldn’t want to ruin you before the camera was on. He would have several chances to do that later. Even though his brain was telling him not to, his dick, said something entirely different.

“Jaemin, I don’t know about this, this dress is embarr-” you were interrupted by Jaemin grabbing the sides of your face and slamming his lips to yours, his nose pressing into your cheek roughly. Moving his hands down your face, to your front, he squeezed your breasts once before moving his hands underneath your dress. Smiling against your mouth, he grabbed your ass and spread your cheeks, causing your thong to get wedged between your ass cheeks. “Jaemin” you moaned into his mouth as he grabbed your ass again and picked you up.

Heading to the living room with you in his arms, he heard Jeno gasp as he took in your appearance and threw you on the couch. Jaemin followed you down and lodged a knee between your thighs and continued to kiss you.

He only stopped when he felt a hand to his chest and was pushed off of you. “What the hell?” He looked up with lust crazed eyes, only to see Jeno looking down at the two of you. “Let’s save it for the camera lover boy.”

Jaemin grumbled and just headed back behind the camera and signaled for Jeno to follow him. As you sat up and fixed the frills of your dress, Jeno looked at you, well, your uncovered thighs, “Do you remember how this is supposed to go?” You just nodded and looked up at the camera once you deemed your dress and appearance fixed enough.

“You can back out of this whenever Y/n, just say “Red” if you want to stop.” Jaemin gave you the last genuinely sweet smile you’d see for the next hour or two.

Looking from Jaemin over to Jeno, you saw him sitting in the chair across from the couch, his legs were spread, and you could tell he was hard from the bulge in his sweatpants. He wasn’t even all the way hard and he was already huge. Jeno was looking at you like he was ready to destroy you as soon as Jaemin gave him the thumbs up.

But first, he gave you a thumbs up, and you saw the blinking red light appear, the camera was rolling now.

“Thanks for reaching out to us, what made you gain interest in the industry?” Jaemin was trying to remember the script while he was looking at you through the viewfinder. He saw the way your toes were curled in your white knee socks, your thighs were closed tightly together under the skirt of your frilly pink dress, your breasts were outlined in the top of the dress, which was too tight, but it showed your hard nipples poking out perfectly to the camera.

Jeno was trying to be patient but with the vulnerable and slightly uncomfortable look on your face and the way the dress outlined your body, Jeno’s patience was running out.

“I heard you needed a new star.” You felt hot, your mouth was dry, your hands were shaking, and your chest felt heavy. Your dress made you feel childish with all the frills and the pink but with the way Jaemin and Jeno were looking at you, it made you feel the opposite.

Both men had obvious tents in their sweatpants, but both chose to neglect them, saving them for when they could take out their need on you.

“What kind of kinks are you into Y/n?” Jaemin licked his lips and stared into your soul with hooded eyes. This question was put on the script for his own benefit. He wanted to know; he wanted an excuse to find out.

“I-um- I’m not sure. I haven’t done much besides the normal thing. But I do like my breasts to be played with, I like when Jaemin does it.” You went off script by accident, but Jaemin didn’t mind, he knew you loved it when he twisted, sucked, pulled, pinched, and even bit your nipples. You had sensitive breasts and Jaemin always took advantage of that.

“Is there anything you won’t do?” Jeno’s gruff voice was spoke up from his chair besides Jaemin’s camera. “Well, I don’t know what I don’t like at the moment, I don’t know how far this thing can go.” You were tripping over your words and Jeno’s next statement didn’t help that. “What thing Y/n? You have words, use them.”

“I’m not sure-I don’t know how extreme sex can go.” Jaemin cooed at the blush that appeared on your face when you said “sex”. Whenever you said something remotely inappropriate, you grew embarrassed quickly. Jeno replied before Jaemin could, “Well we’ll teach you, don’t worry about it.”

“You seem perfect for us Y/n, how about you take off your dress for us?” Following Jaemin’s orders immediately, you reached behind you to find the zipper. Your fingers fell a few inches too short to reach, “Jaemin, I need help. I can’t reach it.” Even though you were supposed to act semi-confident throughout the whole video, Jaemin loved the whiney undertone of your voice. He signaled to Jeno to help you, and he relished the way your lips slightly pouted when you saw it wasn’t him who was going to help you.

Jeno wasn’t too bad though, he came up to you, and moved all of your hair to one shoulder and slowly unzipped the dress, however, he didn’t unzip it all the way. He stopped at your mid back, so the front fell just enough for your breasts to be shown. Moving out of the camera’s view, Jeno went off to the side to watch you start playing with yourself.

“Y/n, play with your tits for me.” Your eyes widened at the request, and you looked down at your breasts and brought your hands up to them. Even though you were supposed to look at the camera the entire time, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man behind it. Not knowing what to do first, you just settled with squishing them together. You let out a whimper once you made it to your nipples. Trying to do what Jaemin does, you pinched and pulled at them. No matter what you did, it didn’t feel the same as when Jaemin would do it. Which way your turned them, how far you pulled them, and how hard you pinched them, nothing felt as good as when Jaemin would do it. Looking up at him, with an expression that could only mean “help me”, Jaemin smirked, knowing what you were doing. He felt a sense of pride knowing only him could treat your body just the way you wanted.

“You’re such a good girl for me Y/n, always so eager to do what I want, when I want. Such a little slut, a good little slut for me. Take off the rest of your dress, wanna see you.” The sight of you trying to remove your dress was an amusing one for Jeno and Jaemin, it seemed like you couldn’t find the bottom of your skirt through all of the layers of frills. “So dumb for us, can’t even take off her clothes by herself.” Jeno taunted as he pulled you up from the couch and turned you around. He unzipped the rest of your dress and let it fall down and off your body, leaving you completely bare to the room, except for your knee socks.

Jeno and Jaemin took in the sight of you, you were obviously embarrassed, but so turned on. Jeno pushed you back onto the couch and watched your tits bounce from the impact.

“Y/n, how about you spread your legs? Show us your pussy. I bet you taste just as sweet as you smell.” Jaemin brought the camera closer to you and ran his fingers through your wetness. He looked at Jeno as if he told him to get ready. “Here, use this and show us how you would play with yourself.” The man behind the camera handed you something you had only seen at the back of some stores. It was a vibrator, and you weren’t too sure where to start, because you had never used one. Not with yourself and not with Jaemin.

Seeing your confusion and struggle, Jaemin went ahead and turned it on for you. “Now baby, put this on your clit and run it along your lips and clit and it’ll feel really good.” You looked at Jaemin one last time before you looked at the toy. With the intention of following Jaemin’s orders, you lowered the buzzing toy to your cunt, but as soon as it touched your throbbing clit, your legs closed tightly. The whirring sound still filling the room, you looked up at the two me above you.

“Feels weird Nana.” That’s when Jaemin gave Jeno the signal to go ahead and step in. “I’ll help you Y/n, it’ll feel funny at first, but you just have to get used to it.” Jeno’s lips met your forehead in a quick kiss as he pushed you forward, so he could sit behind you.

You jerked up when you felt Jeno’s cock on pressing into your lower back, and you tensed up even more when Jeno placed a hand on your stomach and moved you once again, to lean against him. He picked up your thighs and placed them over his spread ones. Once again, exposing you to the prying eyes of the camera.

Putting his forearms on your thighs, in order to hold you down and stop you from squirming, Jeno picked up the vibrator that was still on and without warning, ran it along your folds. However, this time, your legs couldn’t close, and you couldn’t wiggle away with Jeno’s grip on you. All you could do was moan, close your eyes, and curl your toes.

Jeno did say you would have to get used to it, and you did, but what you weren’t ready for was the feeling of the vibrator on you once you had already come. “Jen-no, too much.” Without showing any mercy Jeno bumped up the level and held it on you with more force. “If this is too much, then how are you going to get through the rest of the night?”

You just let out a whimper and felt your cheeks get wet from the tears that had started to fall without you knowing. “Aw, poor baby is crying.” Jeno wrapped his hand around your neck and pulled your head back, so it was right by his. He used his hold on your neck and moved it to your chin, he turned your face towards him.  You looked into his eyes and neither what he did, nor what came out of his mouth was expected.

“Pass me the clamps Jaems.” And following his demand, he ran his tongue along one of your teary cheeks. You were ashamed of how you were letting these men treat you, but it felt so good that you couldn’t help but give them what they wanted. Your dazed eye contact with Jeno was interrupted by the jingling sound that was coming from something in Jaemin’s hand.

He tossed them to Jeno who reach around you and caught them in his right hand, his left was preoccupied with playing with your nipples. His rubbing and pulling caused them to turn to hard pebbles.

“Jeno, what are you going to do with those?” Your tried wiggling out of Jeno’s iron grip when you saw the light reflect off of the metal that made up the clamps, the chain connecting the two together, draped out of Jeno’s palm as he closed his fist around the clamps, not letting you see them anymore.

“Well, Jaemin had mentioned that you like your tits played with when we were buying all this stuff for you, and you confirmed that earlier, we want your breasts to have attention the whole time, but we’ll be too busy playing with the parts of you that we really want to play with.

You closed your eyes as you saw Jeno start playing with the metal clamps again. Neither man told you when he was going to pinch them on you and you refused to open your eyes, this caused you to be left in a feeling of suspense.

That suspense was short-lived because soon you felt the cold metal clamps pinch your nipples between them. Your back arched when Jeno used the chain between the two clamps and pulled, hard. “Jeno!” You quietly yelled out, keeping your eyes closed, tightly. Jaemin wasn’t too happy with you moaning Jeno’s name, but this was hopefully a one-time thing.

With the clamps on, your nipples were being constantly stimulated, and even though you were trying to get used to the slightly uncomfortable feeling, Jeno and Jaemin had other plans.

Jaemin removed the camera from the tripod and held it in one hand, grabbed something from where the clamps came from, and walked closer to you. Jeno, held your thighs tightly again, letting Jaemin see everything. You saw that the thing he was carrying was a light blue color and the shape of a penis. It was a dildo, again you had never owned one or used one.

You’ve never been scared of Jaemin before, but watching him walk closer and closer to you, with that sadistic smile on his face, camera in one hand, and the toy in the other. The camera had a view of everything since Jeno was spreading you for everyone to see.

“Jeno, how about you test out her mouth?” Immediately getting up, Jeno picked you up with him, just to drop you on the couch again. But this time, with the clamps on your nipples, when your breasts bounced, it was painful, unlike the first time.

Too focused on Jaemin in front of you, you hadn’t noticed that Jeno removed his sweatpants and briefs, when he walked back into your line of sight, you saw just how big he was. He was longer than Jaemin, but Jaemin still had more girth to him.

Subconsciously opening your mouth when Jeno came near, both men saw and laughed at you, this reminded you of last night, and the reaction your body gave was no different, but this time it was stronger. “So desperate for cock, huh? That’s all you’re good for, just a couple holes to fill.” You whimpered out a “Yes, please give me your cock Jeno.” “Yeah Jeno, give her your cock, make her gag, choke, cry.”

He didn’t wait for any other conversation to pass before he placed the tip of his cock to your parted lips. Starting off with sticking your tongue, you flicked the head and collected the pre-cum that had beaded out. Your tastebuds were met with the salty taste of Jeno.

You didn’t get to run your tongue around the head and slit any longer since Jeno had gabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail and started to push his cock in your mouth. He didn’t let you adjust and immediately the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag and choke.

But, as Jeno pushed himself into your mouth, Jaemin pushed the dildo into you. Trying to pull away from Jeno to look at Jaemin, he just tightened his hold on your hair and chuckled. “No, I’m not done yet.” Your eyes widened and filled with tears as Jeno started thrusting into your mouth. “So warm, such a good mouth, such a good girl, just a doll to use.” You felt yourself clench around the toy that Jaemin was thrusting into you in time with Jeno hitting the back of your throat.

Starting to become overwhelmed, you couldn’t control anything anymore, you were crying, drooling all over yourself and Jeno, and dripping on the couch and Jaemin’s hand. Every now and then either Jaemin or Jeno would pull on the chain that was swinging along your chest with each thrust.

When Jeno starting to get close, his thrusts sped up, and he was going even deeper. The man kneeling on the floor could see an imprint in your neck where Jeno’s cock was ramming its way down your throat. He watched it disappear when he pulled out and then reappear when he pushed back in. He also saw drool fall to your tits and down to your stomach.

Jeno kept his fast pace as he chased his high, no caring or slowing when you placed your hands on his thighs and dug your nails in. Jaemin wanted to press into your lower stomach when he would thrust the dildo in and he wanted to spread around the drool around your torso, but he couldn’t since he was holding the camera in one hand and pleasuring you with the other. He just thought it was something he’d have to do with you another time, that time without Jeno and the camera. Well, maybe with the camera, but he’d keep the film for his own viewing.

He saw the way your thighs tightened through the viewfinder of the camera, and saw your legs shaking, about to cum. Your moans around Jeno’s length caused him to let go and your mouth was filled with his cum. He rolled his hips, coming down from the cloud your mouth put him on, and then pulled out. There was a sting of cum from the tip of him to your mouth. “Swallow it, swallow all of it.” You were finally able to look up at him, and you saw the crazed look in is eyes and how he ran the tip of his tongue along his upper lip.

You remember what he had told you to do, and you brought your mouth back to the head of his dick and closed your lips around it to break the string. Pulling back and swallowing, you opened your mouth to show Jeno that you had, in fact swallowed all of it. Your now open mouth allowed your moans to come out loud instead of muffled. Jaemin was still pushing the toy in and out of you, he was filming your pussy but he switched angles so he could get the exchange between you and Jeno. He also got a shot of your cum filled mouth, the swallowing motion, and then when your reopened your mouth to show that it was empty.

“Jaemin, I’m cl-close. It hurts, please.” You begged, the man below you did listen to your pleas, and you got what you wanted. Your calves tensed up as you felt the hot white head spread throughout your body. He wasn’t sure whether to film your pulsing cunt or your face, your eyebrows were furrowed, eyes tightly shut, mouth slightly parted, and your head was thrown back. Jaemin saw the way your chest was rising and falling, the chain was moving with your chest, and you felt the cold tap of it whenever you shuddered.

Removing the dildo from your cunt, Jaemin brought it up to your lips. “C’mon Baby, lick it a bit.” You did lick it, but after one taste you were pulling your head back and away from the toy. “Do you like the way you taste?” You shook your head to the sides and Jaemin mocked the pout that planted itself on your lips. “That’s a shame, because I love it. You’re so sweet.” He raised the toy that was glistening with your wetness to his lips and licked it, like you did, but with vigor.

Your jaw dropped as you watched Jaemin do that, you had never seen him do anything that vulgar before, even though he was drilling that same fake penis into you not two minutes ago. Jaemin didn’t waste much time until he was moving on to the next thing. He was enjoying this but wasn’t enjoying Jeno being there, especially because of what had happened earlier.

“Lay down for me Y/n, on your stomach please.” Listening to him, you moved your body, so it was parallel to the couch, with the nipple clamps it was painful to press your front fully into the couch, so you settled with propping yourself up with your elbows.

Jaemin came back to you with a bottle of lube and a small butt plug. You felt your breath catch in your chest and it took Jaemin to remind you to breath for you to even realize that you had stopped. “Breath for me Y/n.”

The first breath was shaking and so were the rest afterwards. You heard the snap of the cap from the lube bottle opening, and then you heard Jeno walk over to you, to stand next to Jaemin. “Spread her for me.” Jeno did just that, you felt his palms on your ass and then felt your ass cheeks being pulled from each other.

The coldness of the lube made you tighten the rim of your ass. “You’re going to have to relax so it’s easier to loosen you up for us.” Jaemin circled your unused hole with one of his fingers, spreading the lube around it, adding a bit more lube, you felt him slip in the tip of that finger. The intrusion was extremely unfamiliar, the most Jaemin has ever done in the past involving anal with you was him rubbing around the puckered hole while you two were making out but, he’s never actually put something in there before.

Thanks to his advice of trying to relax, his finger did go in pretty easily. You tried your best to resist the urge to tighten the muscles of your ass. The butt plug was pretty small, he wasn’t trying to hurt you, he just wanted to make you a feel a bit more full than normal.

After stretching out your hole with one finger and then two, he deemed that you were ready to take the plug. He put some more lube on the plug itself and a bit more around your asshole. “You’re doing so good for us Y/n, so good for me. Such a perfect slut.” Jaemin whispered as he pushed the plug into you. The cold metal on your walls made you gasp and slightly arch your back. Jeno’s warm hands still spreading you for the camera were a drastic difference mixed with the coldness that was in you.

Those hands moved from your ass to your hips, he tightened his grip on you and flipped your body over, so your back was now parallel to the couch.

The two men talked about switching places after Jeno had come when they bought the sex toys, Jaemin told Jeno the basics of how to work the camera and told him that during the last half of filming, Jeno would be behind the camera. So Jaemin handed it off to him. Your ass was still adjusting to the full feeling the butt plug gave it, even though you were scared to sit up, not knowing how it would feel, you risked it when you saw Jaemin walking towards you, without the camera in his hands, it was just your Jaemin.

“Nana.” You spoke quietly, confused about how this would go. It was Jaemin, you were used to the gentle sex you two had often, not this. But you knew how you were supposed to act for this and Jeno made it easy since he was the one mainly talking; however, he was behind the camera now and it felt like it was just Jaemin and you.

Jaemin kneeled above you, he had removed his clothes while Jeno got used to the feeling of holding the camera in his hands. His cock was hard, and it never failed to surprise you with how big he was. “Nana, please touch me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes, wanting the throbbing feeling in your pussy to go away. “I need you.”

He didn’t detain himself any longer, he leaned over you, and lined himself up. Tapping your clit with the head of his cock once, he moved it to your cunt and pushed in. Hissing at the feeling of your walls contacting around his dick and the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders, they were sharp enough to draw slight crescent moon shapes that were now pooling with blood.

Maybe it was to get even or maybe it was because he wanted to hear the sound you were going to make; he removed the nipple clamps. You moaned in pleasure filled pain as the blood came rushing back to your nipples. Jaemin loved the way the pain made you tighten even more around him. He loved the way your cheeks were wet with tears. And he loved the way you never lost eye contact with him. You looked at him as if he was the greatest person to ever walk the earth, your eyes showed so much adoration, it made his heart hurt.

Jaemin leaned into your ear without faltering his pace and quietly said, “You’re doing so good for us baby, we’re almost done. We’ll go back to your apartment and take a bath and cuddle, okay?” You looked into his eyes and slightly nodded, but the wholesome moment was ruined when Jaemin’s cock rammed right into your g-spot. Your back arched up and you yelled out.

The sounds coming from your lower halves was the only thing that was able to take your eyes off of Jaemin’s. The sound was so obscene, it was wet and just by listening, you could picture the visual. Both of your guy’s thighs were shining from a mixture of lube and your arousal, and Jaemin’s cock was sliding in and out at a vigorous pace.

You two were losing yourselves in each other, “I’m close Nana.” You whined as you looked back up at Jaemin. “Me too baby, I’m almost there, hold out for me.” Rapidly shaking your head, you tighten the walls of your pussy, thinking that would help, and it did. It made Jaemin closer, meaning you wouldn’t have to wait for as long.

“I’m going to cum Y/n. Cum with me.” Jaemin moaned into your mouth. “Cum in me Jaemin.” The coil that had been building in your stomach snapped, your walls clamped impossible tight around Jaemin’s cock, and he threw his head back.

Jaemin came into you and continued to fuck into you, just this time slower, he was just riding out your highs. When he pulled out, you whimpered, not liking the feeling of being empty. Jaemin lazily smirked at the noise that immitted from your mouth and took two of his fingers and pushed the cum that had begun to leak out of you back into you.

“You look so pretty like this Y/n, you’re so good to me.” Jaemin looked down at you from his now kneeling position and watch his fingers push the bits of his cum back into you.

“And we’re done.” You both had forgotten about Jeno, too wrapped into your own personal bubble. Jeno had stopped filming right before he said that and Jaemin just nodded, still looking at you. The man holding the camera took that as his cue to leave, he set down his friend’s camera and went to his room to clean himself up. He was a bit upset that he wasn’t the one that was going to get to clean you up and cuddle with you afterwards, but after watching the last few minutes of whatever had just happened in there, it was obvious that you and Jaemin were perfect together, and he didn’t want to mess that up. He'd always have this memory to jerk off to, and it was going to be on the internet soon enough, so he’ll get to watch it from an outsider’s point as view as well.

It took a few minutes for you and Jaemin to really calm down, both intoxicated on each other to do anything else. But after those few minutes, Jaemin pulled himself from you so he could get a clean washcloth to wipe you up.

You stared at their ceiling and wondered if the video was going to help them like they needed it to. If it was just Jaemin living here and was about to be evicted, you would just offer him to start living with you. However, it was Jeno that would also need a place to stay, and your apartment was much too small. It was meant for single old people and having Jaemin there would make it a little crammed.

Being too into your own head caused you to miss Jaemin coming back into the room, and you didn’t notice that he was back until you felt the warm feeling of the damp washcloth on the inside of your thighs. He made sure you were clean there before moving on, you whined with he ran the washcloth around and over your pussy, cleaning the cum and lube that dripped from your ass.

He then moved onto cleaning your ass, he firstly helped you roll over so he could access that part of you. “I’m going to take out the plug, okay Y/n?” You were resting your head on your folding arms and moved your head, in hopes it would come across as a nod.

Jaemin did take it as consent and twisted the plug as he pulled it out, he smiled at the gasp you let out in relief from the tense feeling. He just listened to your noises as he finished cleaning you up, using a different washcloth to rub around the rest of your body, letting the warmth relax your muscles.

“Do you want to take a bath here or back at your place? I don’t mind either, but I know you’ll get tired from the warm water, and I know you prefer to sleep in your own bed. It’s up to you, I’m fine with whatever.” Jaemin moved to sit on the floor by the couch where your head was. He looked at how your eyes were shut, not tightly this time, but calmly, he ran his fingers through your slightly tangled hair and was careful when he came across any knots. He rubbed along your neck and shoulders, waiting for you to regain enough energy to get up to use the bathroom and get dressed.

“Can we go back to my place Nana?” He liked that you trusted him at your place, and that you preferred to be with him there alone, rather than his bachelor pad with Jeno. “We sure can, how about you go to the bathroom and then I’ll help you get dressed.” Jaemin helped you get up from your resting place on the couch and didn’t let go of you until you were seated on the toilet. He left you so you would have your privacy.

Waiting a few minutes, so he knew it was safe to come get you, he found you standing at the sink with your hands under warm water. “Let’s get you dress.” He kissed your forehead, nose, and then down to your lips as he softly grabbed your upper arms to lead you from behind to his room.

While he was waiting for the water to warm up for the washcloth, he used to clean you up, he grabbed a pair of his boxers, sweatpants, and one of his hoodies for you. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear something fitted like your panties, so I grabbed you a pair of smaller boxers that I don’t wear anymore, I get it if you don’t want to wear them, it won’t hurt my feel-.” Before he could finish what, he was saying, you started to put them on yourself. Jaemin grabbed them from your tired hands and knelt in front of you. He stretched them out a bit so it would be easier for you to put your feet through the holes.

You had put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you pick up on foot to step into the underwear and then the other. Before getting up, Jaemin grabbed his sweatpants from his bed to do the same thing. He looked up at you and felt himself lose his breath, you were looking down at him with sleepy eyes and you were wearing nothing but his boxers. He pulled the sweatpants up as he got up, he drug the tip of his nose along the skin of your stomach and then between your breasts, up your neck and then kissed your lips gently, scared that now you would break.

“Nana, I love you.” The feeling of his warm hands cupping your cheeks made you smile. “I love you too, Y/n.” If it weren’t for you two already exchanging ‘I love you’s he would’ve blamed it as the post extreme lust fogging your brain, but with the sincerity in which you said it with, he believed it whole-heartedly.  

He forced himself to pull away so he could finish dressing you. Grabbing his mint hoodie, he told you to raise your arms up so he could slip it on. “Let’s go Y/n.” Scared to speak loudly, and interrupt the spell you both were under, he took your hand and led you to his door. You two passed Jeno’s room which was uncharacteristically quiet. Jaemin just said he must be asleep already and continued to walk to the door.

The ride back to your apartment was nice and quiet, Jaemin had two of the windows down so you could feel the warm air on your face. He was focusing on the empty road around him when he heard a slight giggle from your side of the car. “What’s so funny over there?” Jaemin side-eyed you and joined in on your giggling when you answered him. “We just made porn with your best friend to save you two from being kicked out from your apartment.”

“Yes, we did, but in all seriousness, thank you for agreeing to this. It’ll never happen again, I promise.” Jaemin tried to switch between looking at you and the road often. “I don’t know, I didn’t mind it, I liked being recorded. I wouldn’t mind doing those type of things on camera again, just maybe not post it next time. Hell, we could even let Jeno join in some times. It was fun.”

Jaemin wasn’t expecting you to say that, but he was so glad that you enjoyed yourself and had fun, he was praying you wouldn’t feel weird about yourself afterwards.

He pulled into the same parking spot of your building’s parking lot as he did the other night and ran around to your side of the car. “Jaemin, I can walk now.” You chuckled as Jaemin unbuckled your seatbelt to pick you up. “I know, I just like taking care of you, you’re my sweet baby and I put you through a lot tonight.” He said the last half softly and walked into your building.

Jaemin didn’t put you down until you two were in your bathroom and he sat you down on the closed toilet lid as he filled up your bathtub with warm water and bubbles. You watched the water fall from the faucet and into the tub that was now smelling like roses.

The tub was almost filled, so you took the liberty of removing Jaemin’s sweatshirt. The cold air on your now exposed warm skin caused your nipples to harden into pebbles. The man that was leaning over the tub to turn off the water, turned towards you and loved the sight in front of him. Your arms were crossed over your chest, squishing your boobs but your hard nipples were still visible under your forearms. The sweatpants were a bit too big, so they sagged down a bit, revealing the band of the boxers you were wearing.

“Y/n, I don’t mean to sound weird, but-uh-can I-can I take a photo of you?” You were taken back from his request, mostly because it seems to be on a very personal level, unlike what went down at his apartment. “I promise I won’t show anyone, it’s just for me.” You blinked and opened your mouth, “I guess so, yeah, is there anything you want me to do?” You were about to move your arms, but Jaemin reached out and stopped you. “Just stay still and look at me.”

When he said, ‘look at me’, he meant the camera but when he was getting ready to snap the photo, your eyes looked into his and he gulped. Whenever he looked at this photo, he’d remember that you were looking at him.

“Thank you, Y/n, do you want to see it?” You just shook your head, wanting to keep that photo to just him, and you pulled off his boxers and sweatpants from your legs in one go. When you lifted your leg up to step into the bath, you felt a strain in your thigh, making you whimper. Jaemin was immediately at you side and just picked you up bridal style to set you down in the warm water.

You scooted up and looked at Jaemin expectantly, he understood quickly and removed his clothes and sat in the space you made for him behind you. You leaned into him and dropped the back of your head to his shoulder.

“Nana? If I fall asleep while we’re in the tub, will you take care of me?” Kissing the side of your head, he mumbled, “I’ll always take care of you, no matter what.”

[luvrsux]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐

❝ 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 ❞

other chapters

➠┊word count: 5.4k

➠┊characters: trafalgar law, portgas d. ace, nami, monkey d. luffy, vinsmoke sanji, roronoa zoro, franky {mentioned}, usopp {mentioned}, robin {mentioned}

➠┊cw: harassment, minor swearing

➠┊modern au !!

𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒑

❛ you had a hectic day at school; your close friend received an oss after a fight and you made a newfound enemy. to make it up, you suppose, nami had invited you to an event after school. ❜

{colors for dialogue may shift/change as more characters are introduced !!}

❛ ━━･ ❪ 🖤 ❫ ･━━ ❜

The final bell rang and every student that attended GOH poured out the building like a tsunami. You had immediately bolted to your precious car as usual, not wanting anyone to get in between you and that comfy bed. It’s the same everyday. Nothing blocked you from being excited to get back home.

“(F/N)!”

You grumbled and stopped in your tracks, only to turn to see a cheerful Nami trotting towards you. You enjoyed Nami but couldn’t help but force a smile.

“Me and my group are going out later! You should come” Nami suggested. You began to feel a lump in your throat. All you wanted was to snuggle in bed and sleep for heart away from the pure exhaustion the school inflicted. Nami could tell your indecision and giggled.

“C‘mon! The guys aren’t that bad once you get to know them” Nami giggled. You just sighed in defeat and shrugged.

“I don’t see why not”

“Awesome! I’ll text you when we’re outside!”

Not even a second later and Nami was running on the pavement to her little group of friends. You had watched with a relaxed smile, only for it to disappear once you trailed your eyes to a cocky, black haired boy that also had tattoos. You both shared eye contact for a quick moment before he shot you a menacing grin. You just rolled her eyes in pure agitation and shoved her body into your car. He seemed to be amused in your frustration.

“What an asshole…”

You started the engine and didn’t hesitate to pull out the driveway. It was about time you left this headache.

Down the middle of the road on your way back, your phone began to rhythmically buzz in the cup holder. You hated using your phone while driving, so you didn’t bat an eye. You completely cancelled out the vibrations that were slowly drilling into your brain like carpentry. That was, until, the caller was persistent on getting ahold of you. You roared in a groan. You stopped at a red light and angrily picked up the phone.

“Ace, I’m driving” You began only to receive a proud chuckle.

“Yeah, I know I just wanted to call to talk” Ace was at home in his somewhat messy bedroom. He flopped on his comforter, the impact making it’s way to the other end of the phone. He had ditched the ice pack when he was picked up from the building. The building he resided in was quieter than usual considering he was the only one from the trio to be home.

“Safe to say I’m grounded” He sighed. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Not surprised”

“You could at least comfort me!”

“In your dreams”

You two exchanged laughter. You drove the rest of the way home with a single hand. Luckily, the way back wasn’t far at all so the anxiety of potentially colliding with whatever hunk of metal that came in the way was out the window.

“How do you still have your phone, though?” You asked curiously. Usually a punishment involves taking away certain privileges, but this was Garp we were talking about. Ace grunted as he rose himself off his bed.

“I’m just on house arrest” He sighed in slight defeat.

“Guess no more parties for the jock”

“I barely go to parties!”

You laughed manically, like it was the funniest jokes you’ve ever heard in your years of living and breathing. Ace sat through each cackle with a straight, unamused face. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Good one! So good” You steadied your breathing. A finger swiped a straggling tear that seeped out your eyelids.

“Yeah, yeah whatever”

You had pulled into the driveway, but stayed in the car to continue your conversation. It wouldn’t hurt to stay and chat with the reckless jock for a little longer.

“What about basketball?” You asked curiously. Surely he’d be kicked off due to the suspension.

“Y’know Newgate loves me” Ace said with pride. “He let me slide considering this is my first fight”

A long pause was shared between them. He sensed your ‘Quit lying…’ expression through the screen.

“School fight…” He corrected.

You giggled. The quote made you trace back at the many party fights Ace encountered when he was stupidly drunk. Ace was usually the fun at parties, but alcohol was his enemy. He’d get dangerously intoxicated in a blink of an eye. The sheer amount of alcohol caused him to barely remember previous events that occurred. He swears up and down he doesn’t get that painfully drunk.

“So what do plan on doing on house arrest?” You asked with a grin. Ace chuckled.

“Funny you think I’m actually going to stay stuck at home”

You simply scoffed, although, you hadn’t expected anything less from Portgas. You rested an arm on the window ceil of your car.

“I hope you get caught and get a longer sentence” You grumbled, only to receive a hearty laugh.

“You’ll miss me” He cooed.

A small tint of blush appeared on your cheeks from sheer embarrassment, and the smoothness of his voice. Of course he’d charm you. He’d charm anyone, but the smoothness didn’t phase you. He was nothing more than a close friend to you. Ace just radiated of natural charm.

“By the way, do you know that kid that bumped into in the nurses office?” Ace asked.

Confused at first, you traced back to the cold, tatted, raven haired boy from earlier. The thought of him made her nerves boil. You internally blamed Ace for reminding you of your newfound enemy. You didn’t know what exactly made you so infuriated, but it was just something about his cold yet smooth demeanor he bit at you in the nurses office.

“That asshole? Nah” You immediately replied. Even trying to form words of agreement was impossible to you. “Do you?”

“Not well, but yeah”

Of course he knew him. Ace knew basically everyone at that point. If you needed any sort of intel on anyone, Ace would be one of the top choices. He was a practical encyclopedia of Grand Ocean. You mustered up a sigh.

“He’s in band and apparently he does a lot of shit after school” Ace explained. “But he doesn’t talk much, arguably worse than you”

“Shut up!”

You used that as a signal to finally get out the car you were once cooped up into. You slammed the door shut out and tucked your phone in between your shoulder to scramble for your house keys. It was swirling around in your backpack, accompanied by loose leaves and pencils.

“He’s a dick…”

“Yeah, he gets that a lot”

Before you could ask for his name, not like it even mattered to you, a loud crash happened on the other end. You couldn’t help but completely flinch and halt.

“Luffy got home and is already causing trouble…” Ace groaned. He faintly heard you laugh in amusement. You could hear the commotion ever so slightly on the other end.

“I’ll call you later” Ace sounded like he regretted every decision that led him to this point.

“Gotcha”

You heard the phone beep, signaling the connection has disconnected and you can finally enter your loving home. To your surprise, your kind mother was home cleaning the kitchen. She usually hadn’t arrived home until much later in the afternoon.

You gleamed happily at the sight of your mother, only to receive one back. She didn’t hesitate to sit by a stool on the kitchen island.

“You’re here early, ma” You beamed. The woman slid you a bowl of freshly assorted fruits. Each individual fruit was an assortment of your favorites. This was clearly the gods way of apologizing to you about your rather hectic day.

“My boss had a family emergency and decided to give everyone an early release” She chirped, leaning against the island.

“How lucky”

“Always~” She sang as she suck a raspberry in her mouth, to receive a scrunch of the nose by her kin. Her remark reminded you where you luck actually came from.

“Guess who got into a fight today” You said with a half bitten berry in your mouth. Her mother tapped the table and she thought about it. It was a broad question considering most of the students in your school were quite the hot heads.

“That scruffy Luffy kid?” She guessed. It was a good guess, you couldn’t lie.

“Nope,” You popped the remaining berry into your mouth. You saw your mother flinch, baffled by the fact it wasn’t Luffy. How shocking.

“Who?”

“Your favorite”

You spoke with a grin while you watched your mother gasp like she saw a ghost. She had a hand by her mouth. Her reaction was completely priceless to you.

“Ace?” She exclaimed. You just responded with a slow nod.

Your mother and Ace had a good relationship. She was aware that he was your closest friend and he’d occasionally raid her home, as you would like to put it. Your mother greatly appreciated his existence, adoring his fire spirited attitude and the way his freckles framed his cheeks. The same ones she’d pinch and pull every time they encountered. Much like how you saw the orange boy as a brother, she saw him as a second child.

“Gosh, what happened?”

You explained to her worried mother about the whole ordeal in the cafeteria. You spoke nonchalantly, berries entering your mouth with every sentence like Ace simply took a stroll in the park innocently. Meanwhile, your mother looked invested and devastated as if this was a shocking news headline. Watching her distraught expression made you if she was your mother or Ace’s.

“He’s always been there to help people, what a heart of gold he has” You watched her mother clean the rest of the kitchen in preparation for dinner.

You shrugged at her sentence and swooped the bowl of delicious fruit into your arms as you plopped off the stool.

“I’m going to study for a little before Nami comes pick me up” You began, still popping raspberries into your mouth. You watch your mother lean against the island with a raised brow, immediately knowing what she was going to say. ‘Where?’ ‘For how long?’.

“We’re going out to hang out for a few hours, no big deal” With that, you turned on your heals and trotted up the stairs.

Once you were finally in your room, something you’d desperately waited for, you immediately sat at your desk and cracked open a notebook that innocently laid there. The assorted fruit really fueled your energy. You didn’t stop popping each one in your mouth like candy. In reality, though, there was nothing you had to study for. It was semi-early in the year for any exams. You innocently just doodled in your notebook to her hearts content. You hummed to a random tune in nestling in your head, not being able to get the song out of it.

I’ve rejected affection

For years, and years

Now I have it, and damnit

It’s kind of weird

Your phone buzzed.

He tells me Im pretty

Don’t know how to respond

I tell him that he’s pretty too

Can I say that? Don’t have a clue

Your phone hadn’t stopped buzzing. You interrupted your own soft singing and was ready to throw your phone out the window that sat in front, only to see who interrupted your peaceful moment was no other than Nami.

Nami - 4:56 PM

hey we’re getting ready to leave soon!

you readyyy?

Nami - 5:03 PM

helloooooo??? we’re about to leave

Nami - 5:07 PM

(F/N)!!

You felt slight guilt from ignoring Nami’s rather aggressive message. It’s really been that long? The deep trance from doodling and humming was deeper than you had anticipated. You scurried your fingers over the glass screen.

(F/N) - 5:08 PM

Sorry!! i’ll get ready now

Nami - 5:09 PM

omg i thought you died

we’re running late because of zoros clueless ass😒

You humorously chuckled at Nami’s recent message. Internally, you oddly thanked Zoro’s incapability to find directions since he bought you a smidge of time. You didn’t hesitate to pull out the chair that sat you in front of your dimly lit desk and opened the wooden closet door.

You decided to put on different clothes than you had on from school. You sat in the same ones for eight hours, why would you sit in them for any longer? A tight, white, frilly sun dress with a tan cardigan did the trick just alternately fine. Nothing entirely special.

You looked long and hard in the mirror, analyzing your features. You weren’t the most prideful person in the world, but your self doubts did weigh you down occasionally. In the end, everyone had their own set of insecurities, no matter how much praise they’d get. Despite everything, though, it’s still you. You admired your attire and you at least assumed you looked presentable. That’s all that matters.

You grabbed your purse, house keys and phone. You tucked the jangling keys in your purse but before you could have your phone follow close by, it chimed.

Nami - 5:22 PM

we found the moron

[Attachment: 1 image]

The image contained Nami, Luffy, Sanji and Zoro cramped in a dark car. The only thing that illuminated their faces was the flash Nami used to clearly take the picture. The snapshot was slightly shaken and blurry, assuming that Nami took this picture with one quick take and that’s all. Luffy was beside Nami with a humorous expression while Zoro and Sanji were arguing in the back. You wondered if they’d even have space for you.

Nami - 5:22 PM

we’re close by so you better be ready :p

(F/N) - 5:23 PM

way ahead of you

-ˋˏ ༻ 🖤 ༺ ˎˊ-

There you were, at Robin’s residence with the small half of her little group and others. It seemed to be a small get together party with food and drinks for everyone. To your surprise, Franky and Usopp weren’t here to join in the fun. Robin stated that Franky couldn’t make it because of work tiring him out while Usopp was with his girlfriend, Kaya, for the night.

You stayed on the pearly white couch sipping on a can of ‘White Claw’. Sure, you were a responsible honor student, but why not join in on the fun?

The party wasn’t to your liking, though. If Ace or anyone closest to you was paired with you, you figured you might’ve enjoyed it more. Luffy was off the rails the moment he got a drop of alcohol in his system, while Nami couldn’t put the cups down. And yet you thought Ace was bad.

“(F/N)” You felt a sloppy arm wrap around your shoulders. You flinched and looked at a sluggish, intoxicated Nami.

“We’re about to go out in the back… to the pool” Nami was hiccuping on her own words. “Come withhhhh~”

Nami tugged your hand off the couch once she lifted her body upwards. You didn’t bring a change of clothes nor swimwear, but your legs would do just fine. The ‘White Claw’ was buzzing you anyway.

“Sure, sure” You giggled.

Once out in the back, everyone stripped off the first layers of their clothing revealing basic swimwear. You wondered why no one told you they were planning on jumping in a pool, but remembered that you’d probably say no anyway if you were informed.

You watched everyone splash into the pool of illuminated water. Well, only Luffy, Nami and few other people. The blonde and Zoro were bickering back and fourth before one shoved the other into the water. The moss headed tanned man hollered in laughter watching Sanji submerged into the water.

“You fucking idiot!”

Zoro said through fits of laughter, crouching on his knees from the sheer amusement from Sanji. He finally sprouted up from the water, shaking his head left in fright to shake off the water on his long, golden locks.

“I should drown you in this water and stomp you in the drain port you mossheaded moron!”

“I’d like to see you try, fancy brows”

“Get in this pool and see what happens!”

They argued non stop, throwing insults at eachother before Sanji finally dragged Zoro into the pool himself to get a taste of his own medicine. You faintly heard Zoro choke on the chlorine water trying to curse back at the blonde. Through it all. Nami swiftly swam in between your legs.

“Too bad I forgot to tell you about the pool” Nami formed a pout, lightly splashing your legs and it contacting the hem of your dress.

“And swim with these guys? Nah” You replied, taking a swig of your can. Nami saw you stare at the two hotheaded boys and shifted towards you.

“You actually have a point”

You and Nami shared some giggles about the blonde and the mossheaded boys. According to her, this is a regular thing. The main thing they’d argue about is their, somewhat, shared height. Despite the papers stating they share the same height, Zoro will always be a mere centimeter taller than Sanji.

“Oi! (F/N)! Get in the pool, you crab!” Zoro called from afar in the pool. You jolted at his voice and shook your hands ‘no’ while you had a swig in your mouth.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit, sorry” You swallowed. You saw him shrug.

“So? I’m sure Robin has clothes for you to change into-“ Zoro halted in his words when a hand hit the back of his head abruptly.

“The lovely lady said no, mosshead” Sanji hissed at Zoro only to ignite another tussle between the two.

Nami exhaled at the two, according to her, idiots bickering for the millionth time in her life span. Nami swam her body next to yours, leaning against the pool wall.

“How’s Ace?” Asked Nami. You rubbed the rim of your can with your thumb.

“He’s fine, I guess” You began. “I know he’s bummed out, though. I’ll miss seeing him at school”

“It’s only a week, Luffy says” Nami tried comforting you the best of her ability despite her not being entirely sober.

“Ace brightens my day” You admit with a smile. “Sometimes”

You and Nami giggle at your own correctness. Your can began to feel empty with only one gulp left. You rose the can in your mouth and swallowed the gulp whole. The slight bitter taste made your nose scrunch up.

“I should head out, my moms gonna flip if I don’t make it home soon” Nami heard your legs exit the bright water. She waved you goodbye before swimming towards the rest of her friends. Everyone in the pool noticed your exit and followed Nami’s lead by waving you goodbye.

On your way out, you tossed your can away and dried your legs off, pairing your shoes on your feet shortly after. As soon as you stepped foot outside in the brisk, autumn, weather, you realized Nami was your ride here. You had no other choice but to walk back to your residence.

“It shouldn’t be that far, no?” You murmured.

You were sorely mistaken. The length between Robin’s place and your own was pretty hefty, but you’d rather walk than have Nami drunkly drive back home, or forget to even take you back. You internally praised yourself for wearing comfortable shoes once you were blocks away from Robin’s house. You can still faintly hear the music blasting from her house down several streets.

After roughly fifteen minutes, you saw a bright building approach in the dark streets. You squinted your eyes to make out whatever was beaming the streets and to your luck, it was a gas station. Your stomach had been hounding you since you left. Food was scarce at Robin’s due to Luffy’s void of a stomach.

“Thank lord”

You immediately pulled into the building. There might as well be tumbleweed with the pure silence and emptiness of the store, only maybe only a few cars in the driveway.

The light was ringing above, assuming that this gas station was sort of run down. You roamed the isles and resulted to a bag of your favorite saltine chips and a bottle of water to help the alcohol that was in your system. Meanwhile, though, you felt eyes piercing your body like a rail gun. Even in areas that were sacred. A bead began to form on your forehead from your own nerves once you blindly eyed the drinks section. The only other person here was the register, or the shop owner.

You couldn’t just bolt out and cause more of scene, though. You inhaled and strutted towards the front desk to make your purchases and quickly make it back on your path.

The grossly older man wore a white ‘wife beater’ shirt with a gold chain. He had an unkept stubble beard frame the bottom of his face poorly. He formed a thirsty smile on his face as you approached, like you were meat to a dinosaur.

“Just these…” You murmur. He hummed and grabbed the two items to scan them. All you could hear were the clicks of his register when you averted his menacing eyes. You flinched when you heard the bells of the door jingle from behind from your high anxiety and nerves.

“Your total is $4.55” His voice was hoarse and withered, like he was smoking out a lung for the past several years. You glimpsed at him leaning towards you. “But you can pay me in other ways”

You felt your body run cold from his words. All you could do was pull your cardigan around your chest to shield the window he was clearly peeking at.

“No, I’ll just use my card-“

“Oh, c’mon”

His sudden cut off made your skin crawl and bite your lower lip in fear. Your hands began to tremble.

“You can’t just come into my store looking like that and tease me like that”

You were ready to grab the phone on his desk and wrap the cord around his throat to bless yourself the favor in shutting him up. You just paused.

“Just let me pay for my things” You managed to speak. You saw his attempt of forming a flirtatious face shift to an angry one. He had a firm grip on your frail wrist.

“You bitch-“

He grunted as a firm hand grabbed his own wrist, giving him a taste of his own medicine. In contrast, a more gentle hand was around your waist but the culprit didn’t pull you close.

“Y’know” He began.

“There’s a nice nerve in between your index and thumb here. If I do this…” He jabbed his thumb in the place he described, causing the grossly old man to groan and rip his hand away from yours, setting you free.

“Feels nice, huh? It’s actually called the median nerve. Although…”

You realized who was generously defending you and your hatred for the individual slowly evaporated. You were stunned, and quite stubborn to come to terms that maybe he’s not so bad…

“You work at a gas station of all places so I doubt you even know what median means”

He had his tall figure lean against the desk. The man just shook his pained hand that was caused by the tatted boy. He watched in pure amusement.

“Get the hell out of here, both of you!”

“It’d be a pleasure, sir” He grabbed the unpaid items that innocently laid on the table. You were completely frozen, and still hungry.

“I’ll be taking these, though. Surely, if you don’t mind” His inked hand grabbed the chips and crisp cold water bottle. You hadn’t noticed the individual finger tattoos until now.

“Like hell you’re not! The bitch hasn’t paid for her shit!” He hissed.

“Would you like me to show you more pressure points as a way of paying?” His gaze was cold and menacing. You weren’t even behind the desk and you felt intimidated.

“I just—seemed to have forgotten my wallet in my car so do forgive me”

His tone was lethal enough for the monster behind the counter to shake. He stayed silent and watched the dark boy wrap an arm around you and pull you away from any more danger.

“As I thought”

Is all was left before you two were outside and safe. You felt him shove your items to your chest and look away. You gazed upon him like he was an angel sent from heaven—and you hated it. You hated how this, no other best way to describe, asshole, saved your spine in that building.

“You gonna thank me or what?” He chuckled. There it was. His unlikeable personality seeping through to which you were formally fond of. ‘That didn’t take long…’ you thought.

“I’m joking, but it would’ve been nice” He ran his fingers through his dark locks.

“Yeah, thanks…” You averted eye contact to admit that he did save you, despite the fact he had an attractive punchable face.

“You shouldn’t be out this late. Men are gross” He admitted, ironically enough. You giggled at his statement.

“You’re not entirely wrong” You inhaled. “I’m walking home from a party”

“Walking?”

His raised an eyebrow, like you said the most offensive thing to linger on Earth. You simply nodded.

“I know it would annoyingly bug me if I left your clueless ass sitting here alone so,” He twirled his key ring around his inked finger and pointed to his sleek, black vehicle nearby him. You scoffed.

“You’re still a complete stranger, idiot. We only go to school together” You spat. You saw him roll his eyes in agitation.

“Trafalgar Law, senior, and medical student. And also the one that saved your ass” He had a ‘smart ass’ tone flowing off his tongue.

“Enough for you, princess?” He crossed his arms.

You thought about it. If an interaction like that occurred once, what makes you think it won’t happen again. You’d much rather go home in one piece rather than none at all. You gave Law the benefit of the doubt and decided to take his offer. Maybe you’d warm up on him on the way.

“Hurry up” His previous finger targeted the car you were now stomping to. He grinned and followed closely.

His car wasn’t expensive, but it was definitely better than your own. You saw that it had a sticker or two on the sides of the black car. It was a smile with stems around the circle.

You threw yourself in and immediately snapped open the bag of chips that was menacingly teasing you and your hunger. Law gave a side eye as he started up his car.

“Who said you can eat in my car?”

You popped a chip into your mouth and ate them like Law didn’t say a word in regard. You just watched the building grow smaller and smaller once he pulled out the parking lot.

“I’m hungry” You muffled out with saltines in your mouth. Law just rolled his eyes, steering with one hand.

You analyzed his body and each inked mark more on his body. You wondered how he had the money to even have these drawn on.

The car ride was awkwardly silent between you two, besides occasional directions you’d whisper to him that lead to your home. In your defense, you barely knew the dark boy to begin with. But from his prideful demeanor back in the store, you’d think he’d be the conversation starter. You just kept your eyes on the window.

“Y’know, I introduced myself” He finally spoke. “Since you’re in my car, it’s only fair…”

‘Was he seriously curious about me?’ You thought.

“(F/N) (L/N)” You plainly responded. You still tried to present your slight distaste for him.

“Wow, so interesting” He sarcastically remarked. You stopped feasting at your un-purchased bag of delights.

“What do you expect me to say, Law” You emphasized. “Is that enough for you, princess?” You mocked.

“You’re making me blush, (F/N)-ya” He teased. That cocky, smoothing tone did something to you. It reminded you about the interaction back in the nurses office after his first offense towards you.

“You’re so irritating, y’know that?” You sifted your body away from him only to hear a deep chuckle.

“Yeah, be original next time”

“Okay. You’re agitating”

“Try again”

“Fuck you, Law”

You tried to hold in your laughter at the small bicker you two shared. Law caught your lips quivering to contain it.

“So now you can’t admit that Im funny?” Law had a smug grin. His remark made you breathe out a laugh, completely defeated.

“You’re kinda funny I guess” You rolled your eyes. “You’re still an asshole. You still owe me an apology”

Law twitched his head, baffled by your remark. He raised a brow but stayed his attention on the road ahead.

“For what?”

“For today, idiot!” You finally turned your body towards him. “You shoved into me twice and was so rude about it”

Law replied in a deep laugh. Louder than the entire car ride since the gas station. You watched in complete disbelief.

“Consider me saving your ass as an apology, ‘kay?”

You had your mouth agape at his statement and just slouched in defeat. You gave Law yet another direction, but each one was a grumble under your breath. You finally gave him one last direction and he pulled into your blacktopped driveway.

You glazed your eyes on the house and the lights were all cut off. Your mother probably was asleep, early as usual, in her room. Luckily, you had your house keys to let you enter your own home.

“We’ve arrived at your destination”

Law relaxed his body is his black drivers seat. You folded your half eaten bag of chips and dusted off your fingers. You adjusted your body, ready to finally leave without another second.

“Hey, what do you sayyy…?” Law cooed. You had a confused, as well as annoyed, expression on your face from his attitude. You finally caught on.

“Thank you” You said coldly.

“At least try to be genuine, (F/N)-ya”

You cleared your throat. You practically gave Law whiplash with how sudden you formed a faux smile on your lips and beaming eyes.

“Oh my goodness, Law! Thank you sooo much for giving me a ride! You’re my knight in shining armor, please, carry me along the sunset and marry me!” You spoke in a high pitched voice that could almost crack the windows. You collapsed your fraud act. “Better?”

“Absolutely, yes” He seemed nothing less but amused. “Although, I think it’s a little early for us to get married but if that’s what you want-“

“Goodnight, Trafalgar!” You snapped, bursting out the passenger side. You could hear Law laugh manically as you slammed the door and stomp your way to the front door.

“Don’t bump into the door next, (F/N)-ya!” He teased through the drivers side window. You glared at him before unlocking the door to burst yourself inside the comfort of your home.

A window broadcasted the front lawn of your home. You peered through the window to watch Law quickly speed out the radius. All was left from you was a scoff and a strut to your room.

There you were, comfortably laid in bed thinking about your entire night. You gazed on your blank, dark ceiling and wondered if Law really was a bad guy. He did save your spine back in the gas station, but his cold actions back in the school building kept lingering. You were internally battling your own emotions on wether not he was still an asshole or a nice guy. He did make you laugh, and his smooth remarks and voice was charming. Your eyes trailed to your arm. The gross and strong grip still felt like it was there.

…

Maybe Trafalgar wasn’t that bad…

← prev next →

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

✎ ❝ yayy chapter 2!! i wanna first off my saying thank you SO SO much for the immense support i’ve gained on my profile!! i honestly didn’t expect the sudden wave of support but it genuinely warms my heart that people enjoy my writing, it’s such a great passion of mine! i love each and every one of you that has reblogged, liked or even simply read my work you don’t understandddd. anyway, i wanna come out with chapter 3 around this weekend. sorry if the story is getting a little slow but 3 is where it definitely picks up trust meee. that’s all!! stay sweet!! ♥️❞

All licensing and ownership belong to Eiichiro Oda

[dionyseung-s]

in between coffee, and us - k.sm

pairing: kim seungmin x female! reader

genre: enemy to lovers, slight Minho x reader, fluff, mutual pining?, barista AU, coffee shop AU, one-shot, non-idol! AU

warnings: mentions of alcohol, kissing, crude language

word count: 9.9k

summary: When two winners of the barista world championship work at the same cafe together and they quite despise each other despite having the same interest and their love towards coffee, that goddamn bittersweet substance; everything was fine until they fell in love.

a/n: it's been a while since the last time i wrote a fanfic haha, pls bare with me and yeah, this was solely inspired by my job as a barista hahaha.

You will always remember the day when your rivalry started with Kim Seungmin and you're so sure that you despise this guy with all of your might and every nervous system in your body. seungmin, the annoying barista, it all happened three years ago during the world barista championship that was held in the city. You came from the same coffee academy as him not to mention also from the same coffee shop that you used to work for, you've never really liked his menace personality and how he manages to get on your nerves every single damn time whenever he opened up his mouth to speak or, how he's able to push all of your buttons by throwing an annoying neverending remark that makes you want to smack him. When the championship was held, he was the one to open up his mouth first by throwing teasing remarks just to annoy the hell out of you.

"Dear Lord, I pray that y/n's espresso tastes really salty and spicy," he said loud enough with his voice, allowing his voice to travel to your auditory perception while he's doing a praying gesture.

"Shut your mouth, seungmin," you said bitterly, not wanting to get involved with his antics, you're aware of his achievement in this whole barista world and you don't know what's the deal with him acting hostile towards you.

"Why? scared that you might lose?" he talked back, snarky.

"No, why would I be scared, you should worry about yourself, Seung"

It is as if the judges love yours as well as Seungmin's espresso and presentation so much that they weren't able to decide which one of you should be the winner and announced that the score was a tie. Neither of you could speak a single word after the score was announced as the spectators began to leave their seats.

"Congratulations, Seung" you uttered genuinely, happy for him, just for him to reply to you by rolling his eyes while leaving his spot to go home, you just wished that you would never have to see him or deal with him again ever, or so you thought.

The cafe is packed with customers, the weather is chilly and gloomy outside, and the smell of coffee beans being ground pervades the air, filling up your senses. As you were about to take another order from the customer that was standing in front of you after queuing for some time, your manager, Minho called you while instructing hyunjin to take the order instead of you.

"Hi y/n" Minho greets you with a cheeky smile plastered on his doll-like face as you make your way to his office.

"What is it Minho? Is something wrong? Are you okay?"

"What do you mean by that? I am perfectly fine," he replied in an irritated manner.

"it's just that you're all smiley and giddy, usually when you're like this, there's something..."

"You're right; I might need you to extend your shift for a while. There'll be a new transfer barista coming this afternoon and I want you to supervise him since I heard that he's really good" - hell, Minho would be lying if he said he didn't know who the transfer barista is and how skillful this person is.

"Fine, I guess, but if he's not like what you've said, You might need to buy me a new Maison Margiela perfume. "

"But if he's good, you have to go on a date with me this Saturday," he grinned.

"Deal," you said as you walked with him side by side to continue your shift without thinking too much about what Minho just said to you. You don't mind hanging out with him since he's your childhood friend, and you've known him all your life.

To say that you're curious about the new barista is an understatement, you can't stop yourself from guessing who is this new barista, needless to say, you can't wait to meet this person while thinking that it might just be one of your cousins, Han Jisung that got transferred to your place.

But the reality didn't live up to your expectation when the person that you've been waiting for, for the whole day is standing right in front of you, flashing a petty smile with a huge resting bitch face showing on his pretty face. It is such an awkward moment for you to be in the same place, standing less than one meter away while facing him.

"Minho, are you kidding me right now?" You complained, not wanting to be in the same space or have the same working shift with him.

"As far as I could remember I didn't crack a joke, my love, and Seungmin is going to have the same shift as you starting tomorrow" Minho exclaimed while showing you his pretty smile and his pearly white teeth.

That's when you wished that the earth would just swallow you whole right there, and now, this guy is probably the bane of your existence by now.

"I have to calibrate the espresso with him, too?" You whined

"Yes, of course. you have to do everything with him from now on since Hyunjin is going to take the night shift" answered Minho as he shifted his gaze from you towards Seungmin, that is standing right there while showing interest in the conversation that was being held.

"Seungmin, I am sure that you know her very well by now, and if you have anything that you want to know about, do not hesitate to ask her."

"Ah yes, thank you," that was all Seungmin said, as Minho started to walk away from the two of you to his office to continue whatever he's been doing for the past hours.

Even with the loud RnB music that is blasting through the cafe's speakers, silence is all you could hear between you and Seungmin. You freeze, afraid that you might just start to bicker with him once you open up your mouth to teach him how to operate the coffee machine that is displayed on the coffee bar.

You knew that he isn't stupid or necessarily a bad person but instead you admit that he is one of the best baristas out there but it's just his annoying and cocky demeanor towards you that makes you despise him and want to avoid him at all cost.

"Can you at least give me an apron to use because I look like a fool right now?" Seungmin ranted to dismiss the silence between you and him.

"Oh right, my bad. Here's your apron, " you replied, curtly. while handing him his apron that was already prepared by Minho earlier today with his name tag that showed his name on it.

"By now, I am sure that you kn-

"Can you just teach me how to operate the coffee machine?" he cuts you without any hesitation.

'This fucking asshole' you thought to yourself while throwing him a side-eye, trying to calm yourself from starting a fight with him.

"What are you staring at?"

"A lost puppy" you spat back before you start explaining.

"You just gotta pull the steam wand controller down to turn on the steamer and to adjust the flow or the pressure according to your liking you have to pull it down, you can press this button to extract the espresso. that's all I guess" you explained to him shortly as he watched you from a safe distance.

"Thanks" he mumbled.

After explaining almost everything to him, from his job as an all-rounder, to how to operate a different POS that he used to use back at his place. it's about time that your extended work shift has ended, leaving seungmin to hyunjin's supervision. they get along pretty well, surprisingly.

You went home after going to Minho's office to say goodbye to him, letting him know that you're done with your task.

"Don't forget about our date this Saturday love" Minho screamed from his office.

"Okay, old guy" you huffed, admitting your defeat.

Walking away from his office towards the cafe door, you pass by the two males that are now standing behind the bar, while saying goodbye to them, practically only to Hyunjin while glaring back at Seungmin, who is the first one to throw a death glare at you.

Seungmin never thought that his old manager would transfer him to the cafe where you're working, he was just as surprised as you when he saw you again for the first time after a year ago, at the barista world championship. As much as he wanted to say that he's mad about himself for not being able to secure the first place is completely wrong. Sure, he was satisfied with his score but he just didn't think that you would also end up being in the same place as him.

Seungmin was so happy after he knew that he was going to work with you again after a year.

Nine months went by, so fast, you would be lying if you said that seungmin's presence is still bothering you, in fact, you're already getting used to his presence as to being in the same workspace and sharing the same work shift as seungmin but that doesn't mean that you've already reconcile with him. Seungmin is still seungmin, he still loves teasing you.

"What?" you sneer at him as you felt his eyes watching every step that you take while cleaning the bar, balling a fist in front of you to threaten him.

"Nothing, what are you gonna do with that small fist of yours? punch me with an ant-like power?" - he laughed while covering his mouth.

"Stop goofing the fuck around and start working Seungmin, before my fist lands on your skin"

"Oh, is that supposed to be a threat? Should I be scared? ahh help me, I got punched" he said in a teasing, playful manner.

And before he even knew it, one punch landed on his bicep before he could even realize it.

"Ouch, chill sweetheart," he said as he caressed the place where you just punched him, lightly.

"Yeah right Seungmin, don't just stand around and do nothing, at least wash the dishes" you complained, still wiping every dried coffee stain that is visible on the white table.

"If I wash all of this, what do I get in return from washing the dishes y/n?"

"Nothing" you retorted, not wanting to talk to him anymore.

"I was expecting more than that, actually," Seungmin jokes.

"Shut it seungmin, get back to work before a customer walks in '' you replied to him as you walked towards the cashier table to be on standby while passing by seungmin, who is quietly doing the dishes; an idea popped into your head.

"AAAAH y/n" Seungmin whined in shock when you suddenly poke his waist, it tickles him. you went off to your chair as you laughed at his reaction to being poked by you.

There are still times when you are beyond frustrated when the cafe is in rush hour, packed with tons of customers who want their drinks to be made as fast as possible and you need to take their orders as well as make them. At times like this, you tried your best to multitask and tried your best to stay calm under the pressure but it didn't work quite well for seungmin.

"Where's the order ticket for number 105 y/n?" he questioned, exasperated. eyebrows furrowed together, posture tensing, eyes squinting showing a frustrated form of himself being under-pressured while making another cup of hot caramel macchiato. you can see his face grew annoyed as he couldn't find the order ticket that you gave him earlier.

"Seungmin, didn't you put it on the tab grabber?" you asked him back, mumbling, worried that he might explode at any time as soon as he began to grow sensitive due to his frustration. you tried to keep yourself composed while making another three iced americanos since there are still more orders and upcoming orders that you and seungmin still need to make, while Minho is helping you to take another new order.

"It's not there y/n" he raged while trying to keep his voice tone down, not allowing the customers to hear him rage.

"I don't know seungmin, you're the one who put the order ticket to the tab grabber, I handed you the paper" your anger began to pent up slowly, triggered by the way seungmin made the whole situation worse rather than searching for the order ticket quietly.

"Fuck" he muttered as he starts to shake the cocktail shaker violently, shaking the iced chocolate and pouring it out into the empty glass when he was done shaking, throwing the shaker to the sink as it created a loud unpleasant noise to your ears, expressing the frustration that builds inside of him.

"Maybe you can not throw the fucking shaker Seungmin, it's fucking noisy and I'm pretty sure that it bothers our customers, I don't know what's your problem but you have to fucking keep yourself together" you muttered quietly next to him while making other drinks.

"My problem is that I can't find that fucking order ticket number 105 y/n and you telling me to keep myself together won't solve anything when you barely even make the drinks y/n. why don't you fucking help me look for the order ticket and shut your goddamn mouth" he snapped, still keeping his voice as low as possible as his hand balled into a fist, hitting the under-counter bar refrigerator making you and Minho jolt from your current position.

"That's rude, asshole" you talk back to him, holding back the urge to fight him back. not wanting to cause any displeasing scene in front of the customers.

Seungmin cursed himself for lashing out at you, 'great now she's going to hate me more than she already is, he thought to himself.

"What happened there y/n?" Minho walks over towards you and Seungmin, with worries painted on his face.

"I lost the order ticket for number 105, Minho," you answered him, quietly. Hell, you were beyond upset, how dare seungmin say that you didn't do anything when you were doing most of the work from cleaning, taking the orders, and making the drinks.

"Wait here, I'm gonna go to the person that ordered it and ask him about his order" you were lucky, there's Minho right beside you, who saw the person that owned the queuing order number 105 when he ordered his drinks.

"He ordered one hot chocolate, to go," Minho exclaimed while smiling to cheer you up, patting your head.

"Thanks, Minho," you smiled back at him, still making another drink after another, while Seungmin was quietly making the hot chocolate.

It has been forty-five minutes since the cafe was packed, overcrowded with endless customers that keep on coming just like a flood. You can see the tab grabber that was once filled with the order ticket is empty as you had finished making the last order. you can no longer feel the frustration coming up from seungmin's presence, he's mute by now, too focused on preparing the tools to make a pour-over coffee.

You on the other hand decided to clean the dirty working area, spilled milk, syrups, and espresso; washing the whole dishes that filled the sink with dirty equipment.

By now Seungmin is still waiting for his water to reach the temperature that he had set to 93°C to make the poured-over coffee taste well and balanced. you're standing beside him, watching him pour the hot water into the coffee dripper once the water is hot enough.

"Seungmin, what the fuck dude, your hand!" you exclaimed as you grab his left hand hastily, pulling it away.

Seungmin was clumsy enough to pour the hot boiling water into his left hand that was placed beside the scale, the water missed the spot when he poured it, it was meant to be poured on the middle part of the coffee dripper but instead, it went to his hands, as he hissed in pain.

You were quick to pull his hand and drag him to the staff's toilet to let cool lukewarm water run for 20 minutes to cool down his scalds. liquid starting to form at the brim of his eyes threatening to fall on his face, a mixture of his pent-up frustration from earlier and the pain that he felt on his left hand but he couldn't let you see him vulnerable like this, no, he couldn't let you see him cry. you would make fun of him, or so he thought.

Hyunjin took over the bar and began to continue where seungmin had left, as it was about time that his shift had started. While you decided to treat seungmin's hand, you were still upset by the fact that seungmin snapped at you when it was barely your fault. You understand how hectic the cafe could be during the rush hours but you did not expect him to snap like that.

It's silent, only the sounds of water running down the sink that echoes through the staff's toilet. No one dares to utter a single word, seungmin's thoughts began to race as he grew tired from keeping his hand under the running water, the pain is stinging his skin, you noticed that and you helped him by holding his left arm gently. he wasn't sure what to say to you as he felt your hands on him, making it feels like it was one hour rather than twenty minutes.

"Thanks y/n.." seungmin mumbled, quietly.

"Minho what the hell, you scared me" you screamed when Minho opened the door out of nowhere, surprising you and seungmin.

"Sorry love, my bad. Let me take seungmin to the emergency room and you can go home y/n, it's getting darker" he said fondly to you while tucking your hair behind your ear, used to his gestures.

"It's alright, I can go to the emergency room. by myself, Seungmin said quietly, hiding his tiredness, trying his best to smile in front of his manager, Minho.

"Minho's right seung, you should let Minho take you to the emergency room with him rather than going there by yourself alone. Let me cover your hand with a cling film first then you can go with Minho" you said facing him, still holding his arms, covering it gently to make sure that it doesn't hurt him; with a cling film that you brought with you earlier when you grab the first aid kid.

Seungmin knew this feeling damn well, familiar enough, as he could feel that y/n was still holding his hands gently, covering his scalds cautiously not wanting to hurt him more. The skin contact that you've created made him flustered. Seungmin realized that his face began to flush, his heart was beating so fast, and his head was spinning, dizzy. part of him likes this caring side of you. He's forcing himself into thinking that you are just doing the bare minimum for him when he's witty enough to see the worry that is shown through your eyes but too stubborn to let his feelings grow further, repressing them.

You dismissed yourself and bid a farewell to Minho and Seungmin, wishing for a fast recovery to seungmin, once you've covered seungmin's arm with the cling film, saying goodbye to hyunjin and not to mention how much you miss his red hair.

You are glad that the long, exhausting day is finally over and you get to take your favorite cold icy shower to let your body relax at the end of the day.

Minho took seungmin to the nearest emergency room as soon as you left the cafe, he didn't want to waste a single minute to make seungmin's scalds worsened.

"I think you need to take some time off to let your scalds heal completely, seungmin."Minho began to speak while starting his car.

"What about y/n? it will be a hassle for her to do everything by herself, it's okay I don't need to take days off, besides it's my left hand" he mumbled back to Minho, worryingly. hating the idea of taking days off just because of his clumsiness.

"Oh, you're thinking about her? starting to like her? perhaps, seungmin?" Minho teases him

"Think what you want to think, Minho, but I don't like her at all, I just don't want to hear her complaining about how I didn't go to work especially when it's clear that YOU are the one who's crushing on her" seungmin said as he rolls his eyes, emphasizing you that's pointed towards minho.

"Me? crushing on her? lick my balls but I don't have a crush on her, she's my childhood friend seungmin, keep on denying your feelings and we'll see puppy boy" Minho said as he laughed, teasing the younger one. He knew that Seungmin liked you ever since but that boy is just too oblivious and stubborn.

Minho insists that seungmin take two days off, forcing him to take a rest for a while and saying that he would replace seungmin, helping y/n.

It has been two days since you were informed by Minho that seungmin is going to take two days off and he'll be helping you instead. you have to admit that you might have or might have not missed, seungmin's presence and his teasing remarks to you. it's been really quiet for you and you barely like it.

"Is my love missing seungmin?" Minho said, coming up to your side from the toilet, surprising you

"Fuck off babe, I would rather suck on hyunjin's toe instead of missing him, I just miss teasing him" you half lied, you miss his comforting presence. Who wouldn't miss seungmin? he's the embodiment of the home that you want to settled in, he has the best smile that you've ever seen, the way his eyes glistens whenever he's happy about his latte art or maybe his comforting scent that haunts you, as much as you hate to admit and denying the fact, that maybe you did have a soft spot for him and a little crush you can't. The more you try to deny your feelings and shrug them off, the stronger your feelings get.

"Oh really? what if he likes you then?" he asked while showing his smile that resembles the Cheshire Cat's smile, cunning.

"Well it seems like it's his problem, not mine, Minho," you said as you stared deeply into his eyes, trying to convince him.

"He'll start working again tomorrow and I am hoping that you guys don't do something funny since it's my turn to have a day off," Minho stated, giddy by just thinking about how he's going to spend his time sleeping and playing with his three cats.

Seungmin wished that today never came, the day when he starts to work again after taking two days off, he isn't sure what to say when he sees you, afraid that he might make a fool of himself, thoughts scattering through his mind, heart racing, beating rapidly, nervous and happy as his brain replayed the memory of you helping him. trying so hard to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you 'screw this'.

You turned your head to see the person that just went in, when you feel that someone is coming through the cafe door, eyes landed on seungmin, as you wait for the coffee machine that is still heating, letting half of your body lean to the under counter bar refrigerator.

"Look who it is if it isn't the guy who poured hot water on his hand" you mocked, as he is getting closer to you, walking to the coffee bar to calibrate the espresso with you.

"If it isn't the girl who is deeply in love with Minho" he retorted, curious to see how you would react, curious enough to hear your response.

"Why? jealous? wishing that it's you?" you asked back, laughing. while taking out the portafilter from the group head of the coffee machine, and cleaning the insides with a towel.

"Hell no, why would I even want that" he was quick to deny it, deep inside he did wish it was him, he wished that he was the one who tucked your hair, not minho.

"Oh, someone's jealous but what makes you even think that I am crushing on him, Seung" curious about what he's going to say.

"Because you act like a couple? isn't it obvious enough?" he asked back, thinking that your question is funny.

"Listen here, seungmin from minnie the pooh. I would rather drink 5 shots of espresso than having a crush on minho'' while holding the portafilter on your left hand as you are about to tamp the coffee down with the tamper.

"Make it 10 shots then, y/n" seungmin replied, standing behind you, close enough to your body barely leaving any space, making you look even smaller with his huge body figure, towering over you.

"Why don't you do it too, seungmin?" you question him, holding the tamper on your right hand until your left hand almost loses its grip on the portafilter, nearly dropping the heavy metal object falling on top of your feet as you feel a hand engulfing yours, preventing the portafilter from falling on your feet.

you drift your sight slowly to see seungmin's big hand engulfing yours, your body tensed in front of him. seeing the visible red-ish scalds on his hand that begins to heal, you froze by the sudden skin contact, not knowing what to say, from afar it looks like he's hugging you, as his body looks like it's hiding you. There's only the two of you and the music that is playing softly in the background inside the cafe. The cafe will be open for one more hour. his hand feels warm, warmer than the sun, making you feel safe.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked half whispering, worried as you began to grow silent while still wrapping his hand around yours.

"Yeah, thanks I guess" you mumbled, stoic, continuing to tamp the coffee that almost fell while Seungmin was still holding your hand, not wanting to let it go, for a while.

"minnie, i-

"Oh right, my bad. be careful though" he lets go of your hand, making his hand feel left empty-handed and he hated it for some reason, he loved how your hand fits perfectly into his hand.

'Minnie' he said to himself, scrunching his nose, liking it a little bit too much at the new nickname that you gave him.

Seungmin initiatively take two small cups for the espresso, placing it on the small scale and sipping it, once it was extracted, the bittersweet substance made its way towards his system, making it hard for him to differentiate whether it's the caffeine or your presence that makes him groggy.

"Oh, this is good" - you exclaimed, happy because you've never tasted a better espresso than this.

"Right, it's well balanced, let's just use this one," Seungmin says in agreement, smiling from ear to ear, showing his braces that decorated his already perfect teeth.

You froze for a second as you stare at his smile "your smile is pretty, minnie" you muttered unconsciously, you couldn't stop staring at him, his smile is bewitching you, putting you under a spell. It is such a rare sight to see him smiling like this without him covering his smile with his hands.

Seungmin got shy by your sudden compliment, unknowingly putting his hands towards his smile to cover it but that was a fail. His action was stopped by you, as you caught his hand, stopping him from doing so. not knowing where to look aside from the cold floor as his cheeks began to flush, causing a soft pink shade to form on his face, visible enough for you to see it too.

"cute" you tease him more, just to see his reaction, by this point seungmin has turned into a hot mess because of you.

"y/n stop" he huffed weakly, speechless as you laughed endearingly at him.

"Okay, pretty boy," you said, letting his hand go slowly before you started to clean the cafe area. leaving seungmin astonished, still processing what just had happened to him. confused at your sudden behavior and scared that you might purposely do this just to break him in the end, and it's not the latter.

With seungmin, you've never felt butterflies on your stomach whenever he's around but rather, he feels familiar to you. it feels like you've known him forever just like how you've known minho. it all started back then, the first time you saw him at the coffee academy. You can say that you have a huge crush on him until his menacing demeanor towards you makes you doubt your own feelings for him, but that doesn't completely stop you from crushing on him. you repressed your feelings, burying them deep down to the core of your heart, trying to forget that little stupid crush on him until he decided to come back to your life. The only thing that you know is that you want to be with him, engulfed in his comfort, held by him, resting your head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his warm scent, and talking to him forever. That's all you've ever wanted but it feels impossible when he's never shown any interest towards you and is merely at arm's length.

With seungmin, it feels like you're drinking hot chocolate during winter.

Seungmin longs for you, yearning for your love, affection, and attention. he didn't know when this feeling even started or how maybe the feeling's been there for quite a long time but seungmin was dumb enough to not realize it. The next thing he knew was, you are someone that is easy for him to love, especially the way your hand fits perfectly with his, the way you love his smile when he dislikes it so much. seungmin has never felt like this before like he could be himself whenever he's around you. he felt so stupid for all of those years denying his feelings that he has for you. It all started from a small crush, he never thought that it would become something more than just a crush as time passed, he felt guilty for all of those mean words that he had ever blurted out to you. for once he actually admitted that he's in love with you, for once but afraid that you won't love him back.

It's been a week after the interaction between him and you and he's been leeching onto you, still annoying you and teasing you as much as he could. trying to forget what had happened but it seems like the memory won't budge to go away as he pleases. his feelings grew stronger for you, trying to give you soft sweet little gestures as an affection every now and then as a hint.

Such as holding back your hair when you're making a latte art to prevent you from messing it because your hairs keep on falling to your face, distracting you.

Or when he purposely stands behind you, trapping you from behind just to take the mug that was placed on top of the coffee machine.

You aren't bothered by his affection or how he likes to create a simple skin-ship with you, trying not to show him that you actually enjoy his gesture, as hard as you can, albeit you loved it so much, but worried that he might just be playing around or maybe just fucking around with you.

"Um hi, can I have one iced americano, to go, please," said the guy that is around your age, ordering his drink to you, flashing a shy smile. You can't help but notice how cute he is, how his outfit perfectly fits him and how pale he is.

"Hi, sure. Anything else that you would like to order?" you questioned him, flashing your smile back at him genuinely.

Seungmin is just one meter away from you as he is observing the guy that is now standing in front of you, still smiling shyly. observing the guy from his hair to his body, he hates to admit that the guy indeed looks so cute and cuddly, his natural pink cheeks contrasting his pale skin nicely. Seungmin is a little jealous, afraid that you might fall for those cute smiles.

"... I guess that's all," he said quietly while giggling as you handed the order ticket to seungmin, waiting for him to make the iced americano.

"Here's your iced americano and thank you", you said as you counted his total price while handing him his coffee as you accepted his cash. He was such a refreshment to your eyes, hoping that maybe one day he would come to visit again.

"Oh! Someone's jealous, I smell jealousy!" Minho whispered to Seungmin, coming out of nowhere as he stands behind Seungmin who is cleaning the dirty portafilter.

"Shut it Minho" - seungmin spat, not denying the fact that he is jealous. Seungmin is so close to confessing his feelings to you at this instance but he decided not to, still thinking about the right timing.

"Oh, by the way, we're gonna go to a bar tonight," Minho stated in excitement.

Just as seungmin is about to decline the invitation, you're quick to accept the invitation that left him surprised, not knowing that you love to party.

"Which bar? Minho '' you asked him as you're walking closer to Minho.

"The usual bar, love, chan's bar '' Minho said, emphasizing the word love as he eyed Seungmin to see his reaction. Minho's entertainment is by making seungmin jealous on purpose. He wants seungmin to confess to you as soon as possible, impatient to see the continuation of seungmin's love story.

"Hyunjin too, right?" you asked again.

"Yeah of course, what about you seungmin?" Minho answered you as he questions Seungmin, who has been quiet.

"Why not" - seungmin said as he began to regret what he just said carelessly but, alas, you're going to the bar and this is such a big opportunity that he didn't want to miss.

‎

‎

The bar is crowded, filled with strobing light with a loud EDM music that's playing, it is also filled with people that are either drunk or just trying to have the best time of their life. Seungmin isn't one to judge since he's one of those people, sitting on the sofa that Minho has reserved earlier for them to sit, alone, by himself.

Seungmin is unsure what to do, he's not just gonna sit there and do nothing for the whole night, fuck, he doesn't even drink those alcoholic substance. His eyes were looking everywhere for you, spotting you on the dance floor, dancing relatively close to Minho, as Minho's body pressed on yours. Hyunjin was nowhere to be found since he left heading towards somewhere with a dude named Felix.

He hates this already, as he's about to stand up from his position to go to the bar to sit on one of the tall chairs, a woman came up to him, obviously drunk. she began to flirt with him, putting one of her hands on his thighs, leaning closer while trying to suck on seungmin's neck, giving him a hickey, making seungmin grow more uncomfortable, he freezes "hey, I'm sorry but can you go?" he asked the woman politely as he pulled himself away from her, forcing himself to form a smile at the drunk woman as he saw you staring at him. unable to translate the look that you give to him.

Jealousy was clearly written on your face as you see the woman flirting with seungmin, and from your point of view, seungmin seem to kinda enjoy it, what the fuck was that for? you thought, didn't know that he's trying to get rid of the woman and that's when jealousy completely took over you, when you saw another couple of woman began to swarm on him, just like a bee swarming a honey-comb, as you're inching your body closer to Minho, close enough for you to kiss Minho at that moment, closing any space between you and him, trying to get back at him. hoping that he would glance in your direction.

"What is it, love? You wanna go already?" Minho whispered as he put his hand around your waist as your face leans forward to Minho, trying to hear him.

Seungmin is eyeing you from his seat, eyes darting on Minho and you, especially on Minho's hands that is wrapping your waist. and the way Minho is so close to kissing you, jealous, too.

"Nothing Minho, I'm just gonna have another couple of drinks before I go, do you want some?" you tried to dodge his questions, refusing to answer his questions.

"No, I'm fine y/n thanks for asking, be careful," he said, slowly letting you go from his embrace as you began to head over to the bar, ready to order another drink.

"Hey y/n! you look pretty tonight. What can I get for you?`` Chan complimented you, making you flustered.

"Anything chan, do you have something new? but I'd prefer something strong," you said thoughtlessly, trying your best not to come up on seungmin and act all petty, yes, you're jealous and what upsets you more is that he's not your boyfriend. he's not yours, and, you're not his.

"Try this new whiskey, it should suit your taste,'' Chan said as he served you the alcoholic drink, 'bruichladdichon'; on the pretty crystal whiskey glass.

"Thank you, chan," you said as you swirl the glass slowly before sipping the alcohol. Chan left you to serve other customers while Minho is still dancing on the dance floor with Hyunjin as well as Felix

You could see seungmin from your peripheral vision, approaching you from behind, sitting right next to you, who's intoxicated, after chugging a couple of glasses of whiskey that chan gave you. your visions begin to turn into a slow motion whenever you try to look the other way, the bar feels like it's spinning on its own while you're sitting down, still. The loud music and voices of people talking are muffled, everything is a blur as the alcohol makes you feel sleepy and lightheaded, 'it's the spins' you thought.

"How much did you drink y/n?" seungmin asked, worried about your current state

"Hmmm I don't know Seung," you said, words slurry, eyes closing for a moment to feel your surroundings, trying your best to stay awake while your body is burning.

you faced him,"what about you minnie? what did you have?" you asked him in a flirty mannerism as you brought yourself to get closer to him, close enough for him to feel your hot breath on the crook of his neck.

"y/n..." he called you softly, not moving an inch from you, letting you smell him or whatever you wanted to do with him.

"You smell like those women-

I hate it.." you whispered as you paused for a while, moving your body away from him, back to your normal position, taking another sip of the whiskey that's left on your glass.

Aghast; seungmin felt you were moving away from him. speechless, he didn't know what to say. your words stung his heart a little, not knowing why.

"You smell too much like Minho, princess" he reminded you

"Awh, is seungmin jealous?" you asked him sarcastically, trying to get his attention.

"Say what you wanna say" he said as he poke the inner cheek of his mouth using his tongue.

"Minnie, do you want some?" you asked him as you hand your glass to him, putting it in front of his face, "just a sip, minnie"

Seungmin's hands involuntarily take the glass that you handed him, bringing it closer to his lips, trying the whiskey that you've been chugging ever since. He hated it, regretting his decision to try the alcohol.

You shift your body to face him, adjusting your vision to stare at him, trying to stay sober for the sake of adoring his face as you move a strand of his hair that's covering his eyes with your hand, revealing his eyebrows, continuing to trace his pretty face features with your finger, from his eyes to his neck, carefully "you're always pretty, minnie" "you have the prettiest eyes, minnie" you huffed as your eyes is scanning him, resting your hand on his thigh, he took your hand not long after, intertwining your hand that rested on his thigh.

Seungmin felt like the world had stopped momentarily, loving the sensation of your finger tracing his face softly as it sent a certain electric feeling to his nervous system on his body as goosebumps started to appear, sending a short shiver. Seungmin leans closer to you, close enough as he could smell the cherry, liquor perfume that you used earlier mixed with Minho's perfume, "I think we should go now, pretty" he whispered to your ear softly, making you feel ticklish.

"Right, Minnie, let's go to my place," you said, hands still connected to his hand, loving the feeling of being held by him, trying to stay awake, not letting yourself get completely intoxicated, afraid that you might do things to him, that you could regret it, after.

Seungmin's hand is no longer connected to your hand but rather, it moves on to your waist, bringing your body closer to his, as close as possible, to prevent you from fumbling. He called Minho to inform him that he is going to take you home since you were pretty intoxicated.

"Yeah, sure, just don't do something funny, like impregnating her because if you do. I will do the unimaginable things to you, seungmin" that's what minho said to seungmin, as a warning; afraid that you might get hurt, being protective of you, just like a big brother.

He led you to his car, helping you to sit in the passenger seat, buckling the safety belt on your body to keep you safe. Seungmin made his way to the other side of the car, going inside as he began to start his car engine driving towards your apartment as you directed him, only to realize that you live in the same apartment building as him, a visible confusion was written on his face while he parked his car.

"Are you sure this is your place y/n?" he asked, making sure that you aren't just bluffing.

"Minnie, why would I lie to you?" you retorted, throwing back a question while heading to the apartment lobby.

"Alright princess, you lead the way," Seungmin said, putting his hand around your shoulder, side hugging you as you begin to walk towards the elevator to press the button to the 22nd floor, leaving seungmin's eye in shock.

You were leaning your body on seungmin's, as he is standing behind you, placing his chin on top of your head, back hugging you, wrapping your small figure.

"You still smell, Minnie," you said to him, finding his scent a little bit disturbing, a mixture of perfume on top of another perfume from those women who leeches on him.

"You still smell like Minho, I hate it too" he whined in defeat, the least thing he could do was to change his shirt to another shirt but that would be a hassle for him, to go to his apartment room and change into a new shirt.

'ding' the sound of the elevator awakens you as you close your eyes, for about two minutes, still leaning on seungmin while hoping that your head would stop spinning.

"Let's go min," you said, holding his arm that was wrapped around your upper chest.

Seungmin was left dumbfounded as he followed you, still hugging you from behind, walking to your apartment room #921 'right next to my apartment?' he asked himself. seungmin's apartment is just right beside you, #922.

You went inside of your apartment with Seungmin, clinging to you. "Do you want something minnie?" you asked him, as he lets go of you. allowing you to do your thing.

"Anything would do, princess" he replied back to you, sitting himself down on your black sofa, manspreading.

You make your way to your kitchen, reaching for a glass of water for you to drink, and an empty glass for seungmin's drink. you made him a regular chocolate mint, reminiscing how seungmin really likes mint chocolate aside from iced americano.

"Here, for you, your favorite," you said, putting the glass on top of your coffee table that's right in front of the sofa as you sit beside him.

"Thank you" he replied while taking the glass off from the coffee table, sipping it slowly, little by little.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower for a bit, min. to freshen up myself, do you mind?" you asked

"Go ahead princess, I don't mind it at all" he answered you, flashing his smile.

"Alright then, you can turn on the tv or do whatever you want or-" you hung your sentence, trying to tease him

"or?"

"Would you like to join me? Take a shower, together?" you asked him teasingly, throwing him a small smirk.

"What if I say yes?" he questioned you back, facing you.

"Then let's go," you said, leaning closer to him, "but know that I only use cold water to take a shower, min" half whispering.

"I'm kidding princess, you can go and take a shower, I'll be waiting," he said giggling as he was winking at you. truthfully, he isn't just joking, of course, he wanted to join you but he thought that it would be unethical for him, especially when you're pretty drunk.

"Awh, minnie." you pouted, faking it "but for real though, you can use the other bathroom in my guest room if you want to take a shower min," you said.

"That would be nice" seungmin uttered, he couldn't contain his smile when you left to grab a new towel and a spare of your oversized shirt for him to wear, albeit he could've just gone to his apartment where his room is located next onto yours but, alas, he did not want to. he chose to stay at your place.

"You can use this but I'm not sure if the shirt will fit or not," you said as you gave him a new towel and your oversized shirt for him to use.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said as he took the towel as well as the shirt.

The two of you sit beside each other, silent, leaving an awkward small space between the two of you. your AC is on, blasting a cold air making you shiver as your hand starts to get cold, most of your lights are off, leaving one dimmed light on, that is still bright enough to see seungmin's starry eyes, above you and him. there's still a small amount of alcohol left inside of you but you're no longer intoxicated, you're sober, and your tv is playing a random film just to make your living room livelier. you are content with the silence between you and him, not complaining as his presence makes you feel warm, for once you feel like you're actually at home.

Seungmin is still sipping the mint chocolate that's been sitting on your coffee table for more than fifteen minutes, eyes glued to the tv screen that is playing a random film. not uttering a single word, as he could feel your hand slowly making its way to hold his warm hand, looking for more warmth.

Your hand is cold, as cold as ice but seungmin didn't say anything about it instead he intertwine your hand with his hand, bringing it to his face as he placed the side of your hands on his cheek just to feel the cold sensation of your hand before placing it to his thigh, eyes still glued to the tv screen, too focused.

Seungmin brings himself closer to you, craving to feel your skin against his. "aren't you sleepy?" he asked while resting his head on your shoulder, "no, not yet. What about you?" you answered him as you put your head on top of his head, smelling his hair. "Not really", he replied, curtly. not wanting to waste any time as you placed his head onto your lap, allowing him to use your thighs as his pillow while playing with his soft, silky hair.

The feeling of your hand playing on his hair is beyond therapeutic, he loved it so much, hoping that you won't stop as he could feel himself getting sleepier under your affection.

"seungmin" you called him, still stroking his hair

"yeah?" he answered you, waiting for your answer just to be greeted by nothing but the sound of the tv.

Seungmin sat up straight, facing you, placing one of his hands on your thigh, squeezing it lightly to get your answer.

"Remember when I told you that your smile is pretty?" you asked, facing him back, staring at his starry eyes, couldn't get enough of his pretty eyes that held the entire star or even the galaxy. you put your hand on top of his hand.

"Yes I do, why?" he answered, throwing back a question at you, raising his eyebrows as a sign of confusion mixed with curiosity, making him look cuter.

"I meant that minnie, I really do. I meant every single thing that I've said about you, I hope you knew that.." you said, voice getting smaller as you finished your sentence.

"y/n i-

Before seungmin could even continue to finish his sentence, you cut him "I'm not saying this because I'm drunk or whatever but I am sober and I wouldn't say things like this when I'm drunk". it's like you could read his mind before he could even say it.

Seungmin's body began to heat up after hearing what you'd said to him, his ears began to turn red by the heat of his body, cheeks flush, and eyes grew fonder by the sight of you, as you were studying his face.

"y/n.." seungmin called you, fondly as he choked on his own words, unsure on how to let all of his feelings out towards you, frustrated while trying to find a single word out of thousands or even million words that could describe it, but the only word that came out of his lips was your name.

Seungmin tucked a single strand of your hair that's distracting him from seeing your eyes behind your ear, eyes locking onto your eyes, as he brings his face closer to your face, pressing his lips against your lips, feeling the warmth of your lips, it is as if the moon and the sun have reunited, creating an eclipse as he cupped your face delicately with his warm hands, not wanting to hurt you, as he kisses you deeply while his body pressed against yours, sharing his warmth to you.

You welcomed him as you put one of your hands on his nape and the other on his shoulder, his lips is warm and his lips were still sweet from the mint chocolate that you made him earlier. Seungmin could feel the thud of your heartbeat matching his as he lift your body while deepening the kiss to place you on his lap, not breaking the kiss, just so he could keep yourself for him, just for him, he wrapped his arms around your body. He doesn't care if he sounds selfish right now.

Seungmin's lips are keen to recall your lips as they collide with each other, creating a slow, gentle movement. Nobody has ever kissed seungmin like this nor even treated him like how you treat him, he felt loved by you.

You could feel the yearning that he longs for through his kiss as you stroke his hair gently, reassuring him. you could feel his braces brushing against your lips, not minding it while one of your hands travels to touch his face, softly.

Your hand is cold, sending a shiver to seungmin's body as you put your hand on the side of his face, seungmin never felt this vulnerable before as a begin tear rolled down his cheeks, allowing you to taste the salty substance.

You began to pull yourself away; slowly, worried about him while he hugs you tighter, burying his head on the crook of your neck as you place a kiss on top of his head, letting him cry, without asking him why, giving him some space to let his emotions out for some time as you hugged him back, still stroking his hair.

"y/n" he called still hiding his face on the crook of your neck, breath hitched

"hmm?" you hummed

"I'm sorry for all of the mean things that I've said to you back then," he confessed to you, quietly.

You tried to bring his face to face you, "Minnie, it's all in the past, I forgave you a long time ago" you said, as you wiped away his tears with your thumb.

"I'm sorry," he said, again, feeling guilty for what he did to you.

"Hey, it's okay pretty boy" you reassured him as you combed his hair that is covering his forehead to the back using your hand. somehow seungmin managed to change the position from sitting to lying down, you're practically under him as he holds your body close to him, hugging you.

You snuggled your face on his chest, burying it there while hearing his heartbeat, as you hug him tighter, as he brings you this comforting feeling that you've been looking for, everywhere.

"I love you." seungmin blurted out of nowhere, stroking your hair.

"Mhmm" you replied to him, teasing him purposely.

"I love you", he said louder this time

"I know seungmin" you said as your voice muffled, since you're practically crushed by his body.

"I love you" he repeated

"Fine, I love you too, seungmin" you said, playfully.

"Hey.." he doesn't like how you called him by his full name, deep inside he knows that you love him back as much as he loves you but he loves to hear the word come out of your lips.

"I love you too, minnie~" you stated, finalizing as you could feel seungmin's hand ruffling your hair.

"I know, princess, I know"

"You're not sleepy yet?" you asked him, realizing that it's already around 2:05 am in the morning

"Wanna sleep?" he asked you this time, sitting up as he tugs you to move from your current position.

"Let's go, you can sleep with me minnie"

"I would like to, princess" he replied while you're holding his hand, leading you to your room to sleep.

You lay down on your bed with swing in beside you, covering yourself and seungmin with your weighted blanket. Seungmin hugged you, searching for you just to embrace you, as he can't seem to let go of you. He doesn't want to lose you.

"You're mine now, y/n" he stated while closing his eyes

"Yeah, sure. you do you minnie" you said, getting used to his physical touch.

"Minho's going to smack me if he knew about this" he said, while giggling

"I'm gonna smack him first before he smacks you" you replied back, getting sleepier as he stroked your back.

The smell of food awakens you from your deep sleep, curtain's still closed, as you could also smell the familiar scent of earth before it rains, today is gloomy, you loved it, the gloomy feeling, where the skies turn to gray waiting for the clouds to rain at any time soon, the weather is chilly, windy.

You make your way to your kitchen, finding seungmin's back who's busy making a proper breakfast for the two of you, too busy to notice your presence. he prepared a cereal and a toasted bread with a sunnyside egg besides it.

"Jesus, you scared me y/n" Seungmin yelled, putting his arm into his chest, letting you know that he was surprised by you.

"Chill babe" you said as you pulled your dining table's chair. Seungmin served you your breakfast plate, as you admire the complete breakfast set he served you.

"Where do you wanna go today?" he asked you, pulling a chair for him to sit in front of you.

"Hmmm..."

"Or do you just wanna stay at home?, we could enjoy the gloomy weather, you know?" he asked you again.

"Let's just stay together at home for today, since it's our day off," you said, as you fed yourself with the toasted bread he served you.

"True but let me take you somewhere for our dinner tonight," he said, shyly smiling, making his eyes turn into a crescent moon shape.

To seungmin you're the one he's been looking for, the one who wouldn't avoid his physical touch as his love language, the one who isn't afraid to express her feelings towards him, the one who matched his energy.

You decided to stay at home, to spend some time with him, fulfilling your love language as quality time. you love the feeling of him embracing you, keeping you close to him, even when you're not talking to each other, just being by his side is enough for you.

Seungmin asks you to sit in between his legs, while he's sitting on your carpet, hugging you, keeping you close to him, letting you lean on him, not wanting to let you go anytime soon, feeling your skin against his.

"minnie, minnie, minnie" you mumbled

"Hmm? What's wrong sweetheart? "

"Nothing, i just want to call your name, minnie"

"It's raining, princess..." seungmin spoke, caressing your hand

"Wanna go to the balcony?" you asked him, shifting your body to face him

"Anything you want, sweetheart" he said, he never thought that he would be with you one day, holding you in his arms, doing the things that he used to write down on his bucket list, thinking that it's just a dream that is impossible for him to have or achieve.

You led seungmin to your balcony, standing underneath your canopy that is shielding you and seungmin from the rain, feeling the chilly wind, making you feel more alive. you love it when it rains ever since you were only a little.

"I love you" Seungmin said as he kissed the top of your head, you felt like home, you felt like the sun that warms him up in the midst of the icy cold winter.

You will always remember the day when you realized that you've fallen for him, wanting to be embraced by him. you will always remember the day where he kissed you, you will always remember the way your hands fit perfectly into his hands, you will always remember the way his eyes sparkle, the way he smiles. everything, you will always remember it.

"I love you too, seungmin".

[polaristhngs]

Fearless (13/x)

Pairing: Dodge Mason x Female OC

Summary: Dodge wasn't gonna lose Josie too. He promised himself he wasn't gonna let Panic destroy their relationship as the game took a personal toll on him. Past and present collide in the unexpected exposure of the player’s motivations.

Warnings: Minor Explicit Language, Violence, Mentions of Substance Abuse

Word Count: 6.9k

Disclaimer

I do not own the series of Panic or the characters. This is a slight AU of Season 1.

Masterlist || I. PANIC || XII. TENSE

XIII. RETURNS

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Sheriff Cortez probes her chiefly. 

Sitting nervously in a chair at the sheriff's department across Cortez, Josie starts to recall the events of last night. From Ray jumping on Bishop and Heather, to Josie jumping in to defend them, to Luke hitting her, to Dodge jumping in to defend her, and Luke choking Dodge. 

"So all of that happened in a span of an hour?" 

"Luke was beating and choking the life out of him. He could've died." She crossed her arms, defensively. "I wasn't gonna sit back and watch him do that." 

She froze in fear. She still got goosebumps remembering Dodge's state. His wheezing and coughing blood as Luke continued to strangle him. How his brown-blue eyes suddenly turned red and his skin turned pale white almost losing all its life. Even remembering what Dodge failed to tell her, she would've never imagined losing him like that. Even if she was against his idea of revenge, part of her impulse realized she might do the same for him or anyone else. 

"Witnesses say that you pulled a gun on his head." He reads off the report. 

"I-It was a rock." Josie lies under her breath. "A rock?" He raised his brow. She tried to nod calmly. "It was pretty dark. Maybe they didn't see it right."

Taking off his hat, Cortez loudly sighs as he scratches his middle-aged hair. "I did warn Dodge not to get distracted. Must've been why Luke Hall got the jump on him." He pinched the bridge of his nose. His stare studied narrowly towards Josie like she did something wrong. "But that's fine, I guess. Because he did it to save you."

She didn't know how to react to Cortez complementing Dodge's heroic, but impulsive, action. He wanted to be proud but the bitter smile he wiped across his face contrastingly told otherwise. 

"Why are you only dealing with me?" Josie huffed, upset. "What about Luke? Won't you talk to him?" 

"I'll deal with him later. Don't worry about that."

"So how is Dodge? Is he- is he doing alright?" He rests his elbow on the table, leaning and in the thought of the Mason boy's condition. 

"I don't know." Josie looks down at her fidgeting fingers.

The cops Bishop called came to the scene a few minutes later. Most of the teenagers in the drive-in dispersed after the cops arrived except for the group who only wandered cautiously as they took a look at Dodge's wounds and escorted them home. That was the last time Josie had seen Dodge. She took the ride home with the nice police lady who told her she needed to visit the department in the morning. 

Josie spent the whole night staring dazed at the ceiling of her bedroom and melancholically shifting her gaze to the spot beside her that felt so empty without him. Neither bothered to call the other. Maybe it was the jitters of what just happened. Maybe it was also avoiding talking to each other because they knew they'd have to talk about what Dodge said eventually.

"I haven't seen him." Her throat felt dry saying it. She bites her lower lip, trying to hold back emotions. 

"Maybe that's for the best if you know what's good for you. Wanna keep some distance from each other just to be safe."

"What are you saying, sheriff?" She questioned the man who pretentiously sunk into his desk chair. 

"He's been here a year. No trouble. No bruises. He's been keeping his head down. Now, he's getting into fights. Whatever's going on between you and your friends-" 

"Luke Hall is not my friend."

"Well- whatever's going on, I don't want Dodge to get involved in it. I'm not saying it's your fault but I'm just trying to look out for him. Y'know, he's like a son to me." The man surmised. "I wouldn't want to put him in harm's way as much as you do."

His words felt like a shove to an edge of a cliff. He said he didn't blame her but his expression sure did so. His scowl covered up behind ailed looks made her stomach pit in misery and discomfort. Another feeling of it being her fault. With his odd closeness with the Mason family, Josie believed that she was dragging him down with her. 

"Can I go now?" She impatiently says. 

"Yes. Yeah, sure."

The girl immediately stood up and stomped towards the door, departing the space of Cortez's desk before he called out her name once more. "Josie..." Her steps stopped, turning back around. "If there's any problem, be sure to go to me. Alright." 

"I'll keep that in mind, sheriff." She faked a smile. 

As the teenage girl left the room, irateness transformed his face. Frustratingly running his palm across his face in a disgruntled slouch on his swirling chair. He nearly slammed his hand on the table after hearing what Luke did to the boy. Luke wasn't gonna mess up his boy, not when he's so close to winning it for them. Cortez wasn't gonna let Dodge make the same mistake his son, Jimmy, did. He wasn't gonna let him throw away the game and the money just for some silly young love the boy would probably forget either way. The Mason boy wasn't gonna drop now. Not when they're so close. ----

Trudging through her workplace as she rashly classifies history novels, bewilderment struck her. Ms. Nina continued to ask her what was bothering her but continued to fail to express the reason. There were times she would love the sound of her being right but this time, she wanted Dodge to prove her wrong. When pieces started to fit into her mind, all she wanted was Dodge to tell her otherwise and that her thinking was getting the best of her. 

She felt mad. She felt crossed. She felt-

"I thought I might find you here." 

Turning around, she found the Mason boy standing conservatively near the double glass doors with his hands in his pockets. She missed him but she didn't want to see him. Josie tried to avoid him by going further to the bookshelves, drowning herself in tasks. 

"Josie," Dodge calls out, following her. "Josie." She ignores him again. "Josie!" He pitched his voice. 

"Shhh." The girl shushes him, a finger on her lips, and her eyes enlarged. "Keep quiet!" 

Just before she could run away and ignore him again, he clutches her arm desperately. "I need to talk to you, Jo." 

"But I don't want to."

"Josie, please just listen-"

"Why couldn't you just tell me?" She slumped. 

She thought for a while that Dodge wasn't telling her something. And the whole time, she convinced herself that it wasn't a big deal. Josie would make excuses that would ease her mind. She'd say that if it's something, he'd tell her because he trusts her. She leaped and decided to take a chance, but the person she thought would be the last one to withhold something from her proved her wrong.

"A part of me wanted to tell you the truth about this whole thing, but that also meant putting you in harm's way so I didn't. I wasn't gonna drag you into this. That's why I told Cortez that-"

"So Cortez knows too." She wanted to laugh out of frustration. "He's in on this?!"

"SHHH." Her slightly raised tone received a pausing shush from an older man across from them. 

"Cortez's been helping us from the get-go. He's been trying to bring charges against Luke to the D.A. for some time." 

"And you trust him?"

He doesn't, Dodge answered. But Cortez was the only one who helped them with Dayna's case and who told them it was Luke. He's been a big help to them for months. Under the circumstances, Dodge had to trust him. It was the only way to get Luke to jail. 

"Heather knows people are gambling on Panic. We also found out that Luke is part of it too. We think Luke might be in charge." Josie informs. 

She felt like punching his unfazed expression. Humming in response and setting his sights on the soles of his shoes or the interesting contents of the floor. Josie laughs ironically. 

"You're not surprised." She says, biting the inside of her cheek spitefully. "Because you already knew, didn't you?" Josie felt like an idiot. 

"Cortez suspected ever since he found out about Panic, but he didn't know enough about the game or how it worked in order to build a case. So he needed a way in." The boy spoiled, not being able to meet her eyes. 

"So you've been helping him too. Were you spying on us the whole time? How about the cops during the game, did you guys plan that too?" She couldn't help but accuse and speculate at the moment. Arms crossed, she narrowly gazed at the boy as her skin boils. 

"Even when I'm working with Cortez, I'm still in the dark about the game just like all of you."

"But that's the thing. You're not playing to win. You're playing for revenge."

"That's winning for me."

"It's not illegal to gamble in Texas. But it is a felony to be the house. That's how we're going to catch him. If I win, we can prove that Luke is getting a kickback as the bookie. That's what Cortez needs." 

"This is the only way," Dodge said. 

"So it's really been all a game for you."

"I-" He ran out of breath. "I've been trying to win." 

She couldn't recognize him. The boy who she believed that she knew to her core felt unfamiliar now. His eyes were now filled with rage and misery. His shoulders carry the weights he's been drowning with. It hurts to look at him.

The Mason boy's phone lit up in notification. A message from Panic sparks up stating: TUMBLEWEED HOLLOW, 10 P.M.

Both knew what it meant. 

"Guess you have to go." Josie exhales in exhaustion and sadness.

"Good luck, Dodge Mason. I really hope you win this one." She stuttered. Immediately walking away, swallowing the emotions bottling up in her chest and now evident in her eyes. 

Dodge was scared of telling her. He knew she'd react this way. But he didn't anticipate how much it hurt happening in reality. He anticipated that she would turn away from him. Maybe that was a good thing. She doesn't have to be in harm's way and he wouldn't lose her any more than he already did. He lost people that he cared about. He almost lost Dayna. And for that split second Luke Hall smeared his hand across Josie's face, an instinct rose into Dodge, screaming that he wasn't gonna let Luke take her away from him. Dodge wasn't gonna lose Josie too. He promised himself he wasn't gonna let Panic destroy their relationship. But it didn't. He did. 

Giving her one final look, he solemnly took his steps towards the exit and left.

Josie buried her head in the novels and books piled up in front of her. Wiping the sniffs off her nose, distracting herself through work. Ms. Nina trolled up beside her, pulling the girl into conversation after seeing her hunched shoulders.

"Was that your boyfriend? He seems like a sweet boy." The woman jilts her chin, a sly grin on her face. 

"You never even met him."

"What happened to his face?" She asks, observing the cut on the boy's lip and the blue-purple bruise atop his right eye. Josie had her lips pulled into a straight line. "He got into a fight 'cause an asshole shoved me. They both started punching and things just went out of hand. Dodge really shouldn't have. It was my fault anyway."

"I doubt he thinks that, Josie." The Slater girl felt comfort in the gentle squeeze toward her hand. Ms. Nina always had an aspect for saying the right things to reassure people. "Only love makes you that crazy, hon. And that damn stupid." 

"He does do a lot of stupid things." She releases a chuckle. 

"He's been keeping this secret from me and I don't know I just got mad."

"Why?"

"Because it's not the first time people don't tell me the truth just to spare me from getting hurt. They think they're protecting me or saving me, but it really just makes things worse." Josie bemoaned. 

"Nothing feels real anymore."

Josie wasn't delicate. She was defensive.

It wasn't the first time someone lied to her, hid things from her, or only told her half-truths. Truth be told, she got used to it. Her mother used to have this habit of telling her she'll be gone for an hour but in reality, it's code for goodbye forever. She'd wander around the front door, waiting for her to come back any second. And those seconds turn into years. Josie just never really expected it from him. The guy who dared her to break her walls of trust issues and take a risk. Perhaps she was scared that she wouldn't notice the half-truths and lies in the future. As the world keeps changing, maybe just like her mother, he'll leave her all of the sudden.  ----

The Slater girl drove rushingly with a fueled temper in her brain to Ray Hall's place after receiving a threatening text from an unknown number which she can only assume to be Luke. After finishing her work for the day, her phone vibrated in her pocket as she walked along the streets of the town. She looked around warily as if someone was watching her. 

"HEY!"

Josie screams aloud, grabbing the attention of the younger Hall fixing up scraps laid out in front of their porch. Ray's expression grew baffled as he turned around seeing the girl carelessly parking her car and stomping her way toward him furiously. The next thing he knew, she grabbed the rusty metal fences he was carrying and threw them away on the ground. 

"Tell Luke to stop whatever shit he's playing!"

"What are you talking about?" 

"If he thinks he can scare me to back out of Panic, he has a bullet coming in his head."

His once boring mood changed into an active one. The sound of her threat whispered alarms in his head. Moving defensively near the space, he raised his tone. "What the fuck are you talking about, Josie?" Ray questioned. Fishing the phone out of her pocket, she showed him the message that only sparked confusion in the boy. 

THE BETS ARE IN. THE GAME IS ON. 

QUIT NOW, IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU.

"I don't know what the hell this is." He tossed the phone back to her. 

"Oh please." Josie scoffs. "I know what you and Luke are up to."

"I know Luke's running bets on Panic and you're in on it. Fixing the game like your brother did last year."

"If I was fixing the game, I'd be winning," Ray yelled out, both smugly and rationally. If he wanted to fix the game, he would've made himself the winner from the beginning. He wouldn't need to go through lengths just to get to the next round.

"Y'know someone's gonna come down on Luke for what he did to Dodge's sister." She heaved, treading intimidatingly towards him. "Tell me something, what kind of animal leaves a girl on the road like that."

"What do you mean Dodge's sister?" His face paled in confusion. 

"She's gonna be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life, Ray. But I guess that's just the whole family way. Leave a girl on the road to die." Josie shrugs. 

"You think your family's so perfect?" Ray snorts. "Your mom was a junkie. And the only reason you started hanging out with Tyler and me was 'cause she needed some more." Josie froze on the spot after hearing him utter the mention of her mother. 

She felt ashamed looking back at her desperate attempt to get together with Ray just because he was Tyler's friend and, even if she loathed to admit it, she liked him. Her mom was addicted and she seemed to only make it worse. Josie would also smuggle some for herself. 

"That's the difference between you and me. I don't try to lie away the worst parts of myself." She gulped as Ray looked her straight in the eye. "One of us makes it all the way to the finish line and the other one fucking chokes." 

"You know what your problem is?" She exhaled with a sharp tinge on her face. "You could be walking with a blindfold on, staring at the pictures that are going on in your head. And you'd be convinced that your eyes were wide fucking open. You gotta know what to be afraid of. When to be afraid of it. And you gotta know the difference. Every decision is dangerous when you're wearing a blindfold."

"Come clean about what Luke is doing and maybe Cortez won't come down on you too." 

"Did it ever bother you that this whole thing is a complete cliche?" The boy muttered exhaustingly as he sat on the steps of the porch. 

"Fine, go to jail with him. I don't fucking care. Be my guest."

Josie turns around heading for her car, not wasting more sweat on the guy who wouldn't listen to her. If he wants to be stubborn, then so be it. She had nothing to lose on that. Before unlocking the car door, he stops her. 

"Dodge? H-How is he?" Ray asks. 

"Breathing."

"How are you?" 

"I'm good." She plainly says, getting in the car and turning on the ignition. Josie couldn't help but feel slightly awed at Ray's concern. 

"You're seriously gonna drag yourself into this, Josie?" 

"I just want things to be fair." She says. "Tell your brother to stop messing with me or he's gonna get another thing coming." The dark-haired girl warns before driving off. 

Ray rested his arms on top of his head as he looked up at the sky feeling torn. Many emotions are running into him right now. Mixed of astonished and betrayed at another fucked up thing Luke did. His brother was an asshole who did stupid shit, Ray admits that. But it still shocks him that things like these continue to surprise him and that some part of him still wants to defend the only family he had left.  ----

Dodge surveyed his sights as he pulled up on an almost abandoned ranch with dark twigs and cut-down trees atop and below the wooden houses. Probably doesn't seem abandoned under the daylight. He deeply exhales, cracking his knuckles, frantically running his hand across his face, minding the bruise under his eye. If there is anything he's not in the mood for, it's this. Dodge has been stressing about his individual challenge for weeks and now it's here on impeccably terrible timing. After Cortez found out somehow, he chastised him to keep his head in the game. That this was his only chance.

Shutting the engine off, he spots Summer sitting seriously on the edge of the wooden steps, bowing her cowboy-hat-filled head intricately while waiting for him to show up. 

"Howdy, stranger." She stood and greets. 

"You're the welcoming committee?" 

"At least you don't have to pay for admission." She quips. 

Dodge heeded right behind her as she went deeper into the place. He studied the almost unending space of the ranch. The tall boy wanted to roll his eyes. The setting is quite elaborate for an individual challenge. Probably because, unlike everybody else, they had nothing on him. Psychological or emotional torture wouldn't work on him. 

Stopping in front of a sign, he reads.

"Tumbleweed Maze?" Dodge chucked. "I'm almost offended."

"The judges...they're looking for a specific key. You have one hour. Find it and you're in." Summer advised. "And keep it moving, because every minute you spend looking, that's just another point you won't get."

"In three, two, one."

Unenthusiastically at first, the Mason boy quickened his steps forward going into the maze. As soon as he left, Summer couldn't cover the grin on her face anymore. He had no idea what was coming. 

Unfazed, he trailed across poorly structured wooden boundaries they'd call a maze. Some walls broke. Some intact. The dimly lit lanterns kept his vision from going sore. From the corner of his eye, he could spot some crap and trash on the ground. The smell was inevitable and the insects trilling in the background were the only ones keeping him company. He followed surely and undoubtedly. Left, right, left, right, right, left, and another left. Dodge got out of that maze easily. But he didn't walk confidently. That wasn't the challenge yet.

Exiting the maze, his eyes grew partly wider seeing a bigger setting right in front of him. The wooden houses seemed endless. There was fog coming out of the corner. The world was lit dark so he didn't know if his sights were betraying him. 

Dodge kept his direction straight. If he squinted his eyes, he could see the shining silhouette peering from the barn door opening from across the ranch. Immediately sprinting towards there, he didn't want to waste any more time and wanted to get this over with. 

"Shit." He muttered. 

Opening the wooden doors, he nearly stumbled backward. His mind got busy and his judgment was tested seeing a thousand or maybe millions of keys hanging from the ceiling with a thread. At every step, he saw different-looking ones scattered all over the floor of the empty barn. 

Walking closer to the middle, he sharply exhaled in annoyance at the twisted humor of the judges they liked to call a game. 

"Hello? Is someone there?" 

Dodge froze as his eyes grew wide. His breath hitched in dread as he recognized that voice. He heard that sound every day for nineteen years of his life. The one who would tell him bedtime stories and calm him down in the middle of a storm. The voice that sang to him lullabies and lulls him to distraction whenever their parents would argue like crazy. The voice that dreaded him to shreds in that haunting night. No...It couldn't be. 

"Dayna?" 

"Oh, god. Please help me!" She shrilled, pleading. 

"Dayna!" He crouched down to the small wooden door, knocking. "Dayna, are you in there? Can you hear me?!"

"They know about our plan!" She screamed.

"D-Dayna, it's Dodge, can you hear me?" Each word grew louder and alerted. He kept knocking on the wood, asking for a sign or a response. He taps the floorboard frantically. Grabbing and hauling the tightly latched padlock to set her free but it wouldn't budge. 

"They put me down here!"

"Just be calm, okay? I'm-I'm right here." The panic in his voice echoed in the void. "I'm g-gonna, um-"

Dodge rose up to his feet hectically, nearly staggering his steps as he looked high and low for the key that would unlock the latch. At every decision, he felt unsure. At every key he set his eye on, a voice in the back of his head told him it was wrong. Dayna's frantic screams and call for help made him question everything. All he wanted to do was cover his ears, close his eyes, and ask the world to stop. 

"Fuck. Fuck." He mumbles under his breath, wiping the drop of sweat dripping from his forehead. The Mason boy grabbed every single key he believed could open the trap. The metallic clinking sound echoes the room as he snatched each one. Yanking them out from the strings tied to the ceiling. Plucking them out from the ground. 

He was on his knees again, using every key possible if he had to if it meant freeing his sister. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" He tried reassuring her as his hands shook in anxiety. "Dayna, k-keep talking to me. Dayna, can you hear me?!" He cried out. Dodge clamored out for help from Summer, but there was no answer. He groaned in frustration, nothing seemed to work.

"Hey, this isn't funny!" He yelled aloud. 

"Dayna!" Dodge screamed desperately. Red flushed in his face while his hands turned dark. Fumes grew under his nose. His heart went rapidly, battering the door again and again. Slamming his marked fists against the wood, trying to break it open if he has to. The dead silence of Dayna gave him flashbacks of the past that left him with a burning, unbearable intensity on his chest. "Fuck!"

He continued to call out to her. Now, wretchedly and defeatedly slam his foot on the wood board. Every crashing step was a desperate cry for help. Fear and panic pierced through him like a bullet. Terrible thoughts flowed through his mind just like the night of her accident. What if she doesn't make it? What if he loses her? It was his fault all over again. If only they didn't fight, maybe she wouldn't have gone off on her own that night.

Pulling the lock once more, he moved quickly as it itched, finally breaking free. Dodge opened the wooden door but just before he could sprint towards his sister, his steps halted. His mind rendered confused as his chest rose up and down, exhausted. There was no basement. No room underneath. No cage or trap, like he reckoned. It was empty. Nothing but the key hung over the small voice speaker that played Dayna's voice. She screams and pleads on repeat. Bending down, Dodge grabbed the speaker, still staring unbelievably at it as he stood. Still listening as Dayna spoke once more. He laughed. He stood there laughing. His laugh of anger grew louder and unhinged as he threw the speaker severely on the wall, smashing it into pieces. 

Dodge clenched the key, which seemed to be mocking him as he looked at it, in his red blood-boiled fists. He nearly blasted the barn door shut as he exited. Nothing else filled his senses as he sauntered back to the entrance of the Tumbleweed Maze. Dodge tossed the key towards Summer who was standing carelessly near the sign waiting for him. 

She checks over the timer on her phone. "That took a little longer than I expected. But congratulations. You're still on the running." Summer smirked. 

"You know I gotta tell you, Summer, you got me there." The Mason boy infuriatingly chuckles. His lips released an outright grin but his gaze narrowed sharply against the girl. "Is this some fucking joke to you?"

"Don't blame the messenger, man. The judges orchestrate the whole thing." 

Dodge flexed his hand, open and close. Trying to control his temper and the bullshit utterance of the judges of Panic. His shoulders rose up and down, thinking about how they got him. They got him so well, that Dodge wanted to punch himself in the gut. Them has the nerve to mess him through the important person in his life. They played with him well.

"Well, you can tell the judges to fuck off."  ----

Heather strolled inside the regular young adult bar they used to dread going to when they were in high school with her head wandering contradictorily on the clouds. She didn't know why she had to be there. The place was empty and quiet but the lights still detected it open. It has Panic written all over it, what else would it be? Only the unknown message sent to her number gave her a reason to. All it said was MOTOR LODGE, 10 P.M. No more follow-up texts. No clues. Nothing but a location and a time dictated her plans for the night. 

"Diggins?"

The only response to Heather's call was silence. 

The brunette trudged softly. As she loomed closer to the blackboard, her brows crinkled in puzzlement reading the letters posted.

SPECIAL SCREENING TONIGHT IN THE BAR

FEATURING NATALIE WILLIAMS 

INDIVIDUAL CHALLENGE 

What was she doing there if it was an individual challenge? Was she part of it? Or was it some silly local prank other teens were playing on them? Heather wandered dubiously inside the establishment, surveying the unfilled and gloomy room. She lost her luck in trying to turn the lights on. Shifting her attention, Heather dragged her feet in front of the working television with a Panic symbol plastered on it. 

"Swear to God, my dude, if you put porn on that screen, I'll kill you." She says to the heedful ghost watching her from afar. It was Panic. Someone was always watching. 

She rested her palm on the table, waiting for the show or whatever it is they had planned for tonight. Still wondering about her purpose for being there. A need for an audience? 

"Hello?" 

The girl whips her body around. Her nose let out a calm exhale. Her shoulders faltered down in relaxation after seeing Natalie's familiar face walking toward her after spotting her. 

"Heather." Natalie's voice went low. 

The last time they spoke was when Natalie told her to back out of Panic. Both girls had fights but they always managed to get past it at the end of the day. They haven't spoken to each other since so that's why their interaction felt so awkward. Neither could meet the eyes of each other while speaking. 

"What are you doing here?" Natalie asked. 

"Umm...urgent summons."

"But you're not playing." Heather didn't know if it was a genuinely confused reaction or a reminder. 

"I think I got invited to your individual challenge." 

A jutting noise was heard from the corner of the room. Both girls squinted, awaiting for the dark figure to emerge from the shadows. 

"Josie?" Natalie said, confused. The dark-haired awkwardly stepped into the room, skittishly waving at the girls. "Sup." 

"What are we doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"A text told me to come here."

Josie's forehead creased seeing the setup television screen. "Alright seriously, if they're gonna make us watch porn or some weird snuff film, fuck it, I'm leaving."

"Are we just gonna, like, talk through your favorite movie or something? What'd your invitation say?"

"It didn't." Natalie sighed. "I just got a start time, some friendship necklace thing, and- Damn."

Just then, the grey television screen turned on. Heather and Josie's eyes went large at the screen flashing a scene of Natalie in a blindfold answering questions on the hanging train tracks while being filmed by Summer and Diggins.

"I should've brought popcorn." The brunette smiled. 

"Wait a second. They were filming us?" Josie asked. 

"Score! Are we gonna watch your video next, Josie?"

Natalie looked stunned, frozen in her spot with a hardened expression differing from the girls' astonished one. 

"Turn it off." 

"Okay, admittedly, it's not your best look."

"Turn it off." She said, "Turn it off." She repeated. Natalie dashes near the screen, searching for a remote, a cable box, a wire, an off button, anything. No. No, please. 

"Nat, what's wrong?"

She turned around to the bewildered girls, tears nearly forming in her. Palpitations reached her chest and wavered her breathing. Her shoulders shook in panic and anticipation of what they were about to see as the video continued to play in the background for them to watch. 

"Dodge and I made a deal. We're gonna split the money if either of us wins. Dodge probably told Josie already because he has a thing for her, but Heather doesn't know." Natalie admitted. Heather was quiet and focused. 

"Because she'd be angry?" They recognized Diggins's voice in question. 

"Because Heather, Josie, and I made a deal first."

"So you lied to Heather?"

"She lied to me. Besides... I don't care how many points she got at Jump. There's no way she's gonna win. She never finishes her stories. She never even applied to college. As soon as she has a chance of actually getting what she wants, she just quits." 

Shifting her focused stare from the screen to her, Heather is shocked. Her mouth hung open hearing more of Natalie's words. "What am I watching?"

"Please just let me explain." Josie watched Natalie tremble at her spot. Desperation flowed down her face. 

"This isn't real 'cause you wouldn't say those things about me, right Nat?"

Heather didn't know what to say. Her tiny bubble of hope that none of this was true and was just a trick of Panic was about to pop as she continued to watch. She stood there, hands crossed to her chest, shielding herself as she listened to Nat admit she sabotaged her by trapping her in the basement at Spurlock's ranch. The girl's eyes watered, heartbroken, hearing her best friend say that no one can stop 'cause no one has to. Heather wasn't a competitor. All she got was just sheer dumb luck. 

"You seem to spend most of your time sabotaging Heather," Diggins spoke offscreen. "What about Josie? Why bother making a deal with her in the first place?"

Josie held her breath as her name was mentioned. Natalie's teary eyes moved to hers and all Josie thought was that she didn't know what to feel for her. 

"Honestly, I'm surprised she even made it this far. I don't even know why she joined Panic in the first place. Maybe it's her last attempt to feel something that doesn't require pills. After she got clean, she got boring. But it didn't make her less useful. Josie can keep trying to make it to the final but she'll crack in the end like she always does. She always chooses to run away when things get tough. She's a coward."

"Stop it, we get it! Stop it! Stop, ok. We get it. Stop!" Natalie pleaded. Running a hand through her forehead, her breathing went rapid. She wanted to run to them. Hug them, apologize, anything that she could do to earn their forgiveness but she knew it was too late.

"Guys, please I -" 

"Nice to know what you really think of me, Nat."

Josie could feel Heather's sorry eyes glancing at her from her side. The Slater girl didn't know what to do and just shifted her gaze down, sniffing and wiping the water falling from her eyes. Natalie's words felt like bullets and nails piercing through her skin. Like what basically people expected her to do, she ran out. Dashing her feet out of the bar, out of the door, and ran to her car. On her way out, she spotted Diggins watching in the corner of her eye. She felt Natalie running after her before being stopped by Diggins. What did you do, Josie overheard Natalie say. 

As she drove far enough, she turned the car off. Her whole body shook in tears as her mind continued to replay Natalie's video. Her brain went as far as going back to her earlier conversation with Ray. Maybe she was lying to herself. She could try to change but it's useless. Like what Dodge said, she was acting like her mother. Something she feared and dreaded happening.

-----

As the ignition went down low, Josie sat inside the parked car blatantly staring into space consumed with her own thoughts. She buried her head into her hands, exhaling slowly. She had a long day. All she was eager to do was sink into her bed. Drown herself into the blankets and pillows or read a book if she can't do that. She tried to distract herself by reminding herself once more that she needed to clean her room. Giving herself the effort to get out of the car and walk through the porch, she beamed for a moment, peering through the curtains and seeing the house lights on. Josie couldn't wait to talk to Nick about the day she had. Walking through the porch, she hurriedly pushed the front door open, not knowing what was waiting for her.

"Hey!" Josie tried to add some light to her voice. "Nick, are you home?" She searches the living room before seeing him seated at the kitchen table.

"Anyways, are we gonna order in tonight 'cause I don't really feel like cooking-"

Josie stopped speaking immediately and fixed her gaze on the familiar person sitting across from her brother. A face she prayed she would never see once more. A face she wants to forget. The person who has hurt her the most throughout the years. The woman abandoned her family in the middle of an unfamiliar place after their father passed away.

"What is she doing here?" Josie asks Nick. Not even sparing a glance at her mother. "I said, what the fuck is SHE doing here, Nick?!" She yelled. Nick heaved a sigh at his sister's unsurprising reaction. 

Josie could describe their relationship as strained. It's been five years since they last saw their mother. For a while, he'd check up on their mom if he can manage to find her. The last time they ever spoke surprised him. That time, it was her who reached out to him. She sounded good. There was a feeling of optimism again that Josie would remind him to shut off.

"She came here to see us."

"You're really falling for that again. Seriously?" Josie laughingly scoffed. "Are you sure she's here to see us or do you mean the cabinet where we keep all the money?"

"Josie."

"What?" She raised out her arms. "I'm just pointing out the facts. That's what she did the last time." Josie bit the inside of her cheek. She held her breath as she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She wasn't gonna cry in front of this woman. She promised herself that she wasn't gonna waste her tears on her anymore.

"She's sober, Josie. She's been clean. All she wants is to apologize."

"Not the first time I've heard that." She defensively crossed her arms. "All she does is lie, Nick! Why can't you see that?!"

Josie, I'm sorry. Josie, I've missed you. Josie, I'm better now. Josie, I'm right here. Those were the words she'd hear often. The apologies and the promises that meant nothing to the person saying it. Josie felt so stupid to believe such promises. It took her a long time to learn how to not fall for those tricks again. But every time she tries to open her heart, the world around her always gives her a chance to speculate.

She remembered the time when her mom called her and revisited her home in the middle of the night. Her mother was unrecognizable back then. Her clothes disheveled, the bags under her eyes were dark, her hair looked like it hadn't been washed. She saw the scars on her arms that Josie was too young to understand. But despite that, she let her in. At the crack of dawn, she left like she wasn't even there.

"I should leave."

"That was quicker than I expected. You beat your last record." She mockingly claps as her mom stood from her seat.

"I just wanted to see how the two of you are doing."

"Oh! How very nice of you to think of us." Josie derisively says. "As you can see, we're doing just fine. I would've cleaned the house but I didn't know when you would show up whenever it was convenient for you."

"You know, I think about you two all the time."

For a second there, she drifted back to her childhood. There was that sweet tone Josie recalled that talked to her, sang to her, and assured her that everything was gonna be alright. The genuineness of her expression made Josie miss her. She missed her mom. Josie fought against the idea in her mind of wanting her back.

"I think that's guilt," Josie said halfheartedly.

"I understand that you're here to make amends or whatever shitty reason you crawled back in here. But if you think we can just forgive you for putting us through hell when you left and we're going act like some big happy family, then you're fucking wrong." She stated. 

"If you were any smarter…" Nick tries to get a hold of Josie's forwarding stride but she manages to escape his grip. Holding in the tears and looking her in the eye, Josie refused to blink. She wasn't gonna falter. She wasn't gonna let her hurt her again. "Never come back here again."

Not looking back, Josie stomped her way into her room. Her feet increased their pace just enough to get her out of there. The other Slaters glanced in her direction. Nick bowed his head down in disappointment as he heard his little sister slam the door shut. 

Josie wanted to run. She wanted to run away. She didn't know where but all she knew was that she needed to get away from there. She paced around her room, her feet growing restless, her heart pounding loudly like soldiers marching on the ground, and her arms growing tired as it rests above her head. Josie wanted to scream. Screaming so loud that the world would just fall apart like she is. Her hands fell on her knees as her sobs filled her surroundings. She clutched her chest as she let out the mixed frustration and sadness in her system. Her breath hitches as she closed her eyes, letting the tears fall. Seeing the emptiness surrounding her, Josie allowed her body fell forward, drowning in self tears and misery.

[cannibal-wings]

I didn’t finish a chapter update in time for Vash’s b-day, but I did say I would drop a little bit of the chapter I’m working on. So here’s a bit from Chapter Two of “The Side Effects of Saving You” the AU I’m doing where Wolfwood needs Vash’s blood to survive.

This bit does contain some slight body horror, mostly involving finger nails, so if that bothers you, take care.

Wolfwood found himself on the floor.

This wasn’t the first time he had ever come to on the floor of a rented room, but it was never a welcome feeling. When he opened his eyes he just saw static, nothing was in focus, he couldn’t tell which way he was oriented. He was lying facedown in something sticky. It tasted and smelled like blood not vomit. He was only slightly relieved by that. When he swallowed something sharp went down his throat and he coughed and spit whatever else was in his mouth out. He slapped his hand around in the darkness and picked something up. He rolled it around his finger tips and decided it was a tooth. One of the sharper ones, a canine or incisor. Ever since he was experimented on they were sharper than the average person’s. It was the only change in his appearance he liked from the whole ordeal.

Wolfwood ran his tongue over his teeth to check for which ones were missing, but was puzzled when all were accounted for. They felt sharper, even the lower ones, but still there. He also pulled out something that was stuck to the roof of his mouth. It was long, and felt like a feather. He put it aside and took a few breaths, hoping that if he stayed still long enough his vision would come back.

Once more, he was regretting letting everyone leave. But he also wasn’t sure what having one of them around would help. He was sure Vash was doing more good out at that town than sitting with him watching him cough up his own teeth. Wolfwood put an arm under him and pushed up. He could still get into a sitting position and felt around for the bed. It was to his right. He leaned on it when the world seemed to shift under him. Wolfwood groaned and pulled in more air.

His head was pounding and the first thing he was going to do when he could stand was down more painkillers. Very slowly the spots vanished from his vision and he was able to focus on the blank off white wall in front of him. Moving felt like it was in slow motion, but he did reach down to pick up one of the teeth he spit out. It was a tooth, that much was certain, the real question was whether it was his. It had to be, the other options didn’t make sense. He reasoned that maybe when he collapsed, he knocked a few out and they regrew.

Wolfwood then examined the feathers that were scattered around the small pool of blood he woke up in. They were blue, not pale yellow or black. “What’d I do? Eat a pillow?” He saw the shredded remains of Vash’s pillow he tossed to the floor. The guess seemed more likely now. Wolfwood struggled to his feet and swayed, he used the bed for support. His vision swam but cleared up after a few moments of being upright. This time he didn’t pass out.

He was still hot, unbearably hot, but he didn’t want to pass out in the shower and drown, so he instead made his way to the small table by the window. He was winded by the time he sat down in one of the creaky chairs. “Shit,” Wolfwood said and tried to read the instructions on the medication bottles Vash had left behind. His eyes could not focus on the squirming small print. “Fuck it,” he said and dumped a bunch from both bottles into his hand. “I probably won’t die from this, probably.” He hesitated and shook a few of the pills back onto the table. Just in case he could die from that.

The rest he knocked back with the help of a canteen of water Vash left on the table. His mouth tasted of copper again, he was getting tired of that. His stomach groaned and he lifted a doughnut out of the box. While he didn’t feel like eating his body was demanding it. He nibbled on the doughnut and glanced at the map on the table in front of him. Vash had circled the town they were visiting in red. “Corrin huh?”

There must have been something there that they needed, Wolfwood couldn’t figure out what. He had passed through the town once a few years back while tracking a target. He didn’t recall it being anything special. He took another long pull off of the canteen and pulled the map closer. Corrin was at least an hour and a half out, even if Meryl drove more recklessly than normal it’d still take them two hours to do a round trip in driving time alone. Wolfwood had no idea how long their business there would take. He checked a wall clock and saw that four hours had already passed. He frowned.

That was a lot of time to spend passed out on the floor.

He took another bite of the doughnut and tried to relax. His heart was still pounding, which was not helping his headache. All his muscles still felt coiled, like there was adrenaline he couldn’t dissipate. It just made him feel even more queasy. He didn’t know how to communicate to his brain that he was ok, he was safe, nothing was trying to kill him. Vash’s scent returned to bother him and he leaned back in his chair just enough to reach the window and crack it.

He needed a smoke, to block out the smell, but he didn’t think he could walk to the bedside table just yet. So instead, he ate more of the doughnut and tried really hard to ignore what his senses were screaming about. Wolfwood rhythmically tapped his fingers on the table and looked back to the map. They were still so far from their destination. It would be weeks left of travel at this pace. But he knew that he couldn’t push too hard without giving himself away.

Vash knew, Vash had known from the start. It was very hard to hide anything from him, he learned. But he found himself struggling with telling Meryl and Milly the truth. He didn’t want to hurt them but he knew that he already had. For the first time in ages he had people who cared about him, and who he cared about in return, and he hated the feeling he had about himself. That he didn’t deserve to have this, and he hated how that seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Like he was destined to lose anything that he dared to care about.

The thought just frustrated him and he slammed the fingers he was drumming on the table down. It took him a few more raps before he noticed something was wrong with his hand. He lifted his hand to look at a nail that had fractured down the middle. When he touched it, it started to peel off.

“Well,” Wolfwood said flatly as a second nail came away in one piece. “That’s not good.” He was pretty sure his finger nails weren’t supposed to fall off. He had wiggled another three off before his brain caught up with his actions and he forced himself to stop. He stood with a bit of a sway and walked to the bedside table. He picked up his pack of cigarettes and then realized that he had to bend down and dig through his pants pocket for his lighter. The motion almost made him vomit but he kept everything down and returned to the table. Wolfwood figured if he was going to die of some mysterious illness he might as well go out smoking.

He lit one and breathed in deeply. For just a moment he could think clearly without his stomach churning and his skin feeling like it was shifting. Then he exhaled and the scents of the room came flooding back. Wolfwood scooted the chair back so he could open the window a bit more. He rested an elbow on the ledge and faced outside. The fresh air seemed to be helping, and with shaking hands he lit another and looked down at the few people walking the streets below. In the back of his mind something was tugging him to go out there too.

His mouth started to water and he glanced back at the box of doughnuts, but he wasn’t hungry for any more sugar. He wanted something more substantial than a sandwich too. He just didn’t know what it was. His headache was fading, it was like a fog was lifting. Wolfwood knew he wasn’t ok. The nails on his other hand had fallen off while he was smoking. He swore he heard bones snap along his back. He was unwell, he was sweating and nauseous but for some reason his mind was telling him to go outside.

He tried to reason with himself, that he should go back to bed, or camp out by the toilet, or finish his pack of cigarettes. That if he was sick with something really bad he shouldn’t go outside and possibly infect others. He should stay put, wait it out, wait for the others to get back. Maybe they could bring him to a hospital? Wolfwood looked back at the map to check for the nearest larger town, but now the map had begun to swim in his vision too. “Shit,” he muttered and moved to light his lighter, he fumbled it and it fell to the floor. Air. He decided. He just needed some air. He just had to get out of this room that smelled so sickly sweet like Vash.  

He would just step outside for a moment, just for a breather.

Wolfwood pushed himself out of his chair, stumbled, found his footing and made for the door.

It would only be for a second, he reasoned. Nothing would happen. He would be ok.

[sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins]

𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐐’𝐒:  

1. When are you usually online?

It honestly varies as of late. College has really kept me busy and muse varies between my blogs. My schedule can become really inconsistent at times, but I’m almost always online in some way, but it varies when and if I have the energy to reply to things. Muse has been fickle as well. I would say I am almost always online on the weekends.

2. What verses are you involved in?

I have a ton of random au’s on my blog: pirate au, vampire au, werewolf au, crossover verses, historical au’s, some very slight modern au’s. But for fandoms, I am involved in t.urn w.ashington’s s.pies fandom, r.dr2, l.eft 4 d.ead, a.ssassin’s c.reed, d.ragon a.ge, general western. I am usually more active in the t.urn rpc as of recently because the r.dr2 rpc has been kinda dead as of recently, same as l.4rd, and a.ssassin’s c.reed. I also have been writing r.dr2 for around 3 years or so and I think I’m slowly burnt out on it at times. With the recent uptick in t.urn blogs (but it’s still a small rpc) and how Lydia has become really popular on my blog and the investment of dynamics for her oc (which I really cherish), I have been more involved in the t.urn rpc because it’s an interest I fell back in. So a lot of my muses have been getting an amrev verse to suit that interest, but I am still into my other fandoms! Just college has kept me a bit busy and has kept muse fickle and selective. Luckily, my mutuals have been very supportive of my weird schedule and varying muse levels.

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve?

I think force shipping tbh. It hasn’t happened in a while, but it just adds a lot of pressure onto me and I fall out of interest in the thread/interaction quickly if people just assume things. I work off chemistry and I only ever work with off the cuff shipping with mutuals I talk to regularly. But still, I prefer chemistry over anything else and I have had a few surprising dynamics that have come out of shared chemistry that I never would’ve expected. 

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses?

Usually my muses have death involved in their story somewhere so that might be my type lmao.  I usually pick side characters or character I genuinely think I could develop. Like Hewlett, Evie, & Jacob. Sadly, I tend to attract muses that have little to no screen time in their media. Overall, I tend to enjoy morally grey characters with a ton of complex characteristics. I tend to drift more towards villains, but overall, I like a mixture. I don’t think I could fully write a “hero” character (the closest may be Hewlett, Varric, or Evie and Jacob, but they both have shady actions). I do really enjoy grey characters with a heart of gold (Cassie, Lydia, Sean, Kieran). The reason why I added Hewlett & Abe to my muse list is because I thought i could add more development to them compared to the writers lmao.

5. Are there reoccurring themes in your writing that people might not notice?

Themes? Like messages? Not so much, it more of depends on the character I suppose. Overall, I tend to really like introspection and really get in my muses’s minds. Sometimes my muse tends to focus on the other person more than themself, but I like a character analysis lens that looks through their thoughts and experiences. I try to sorta shift my writing style to that muse, but try to keep it somewhat consistent to my own (whatever that writing style really is). I guess death? idk it’s a trend among my muses. 

6. What are your favourite RP trends?

I honestly can’t keep up with rp trends recently, but I think the whole banner on asks. I always have a rough time with the usual ask reply system and while tagging can be messy, it’s a lot easier to format and to trim a thread with adding a banner for an answered ask in a text post than using tumblr’s own ask reply system. It has its cons, but I think I prefer that and it looks prettier imo. I also like interest trackers though people hardly use them.

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone?

I can be really shy, but I occasionally post plotting calls, ask memes, and inbox calls. That’s the eaisest way or to outright message me. With my schedule, I have been slacking on sending asks to people on my dash and answering those asks. So, recently, I would say messaging me and figuring out a plot for liking an inbox call is the easiest atm.

8. How do you feel about duplicates?

I don’t really have duplicate anxiety. I never had anyone steal from me, but I hope people don’t because of all the hard work I put into them. I actually like duplicates because usually, I have another muse I eagerly want to write with them, even if I already write that muse. Like for example, I am always eager to interact with another Sean, but those blogs tend to not last long. When I couldn’t find a Sean to itneract with in the beginning of this blog, that was the precise reason why I added Sean to my muse list and decided to writ ehim myself. So, I am game for duplicates.

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying?

I think since i was 10, but on tumbl rpc, I think it was early 2018. It was a little bit before r.dr2 came out.

10. Is there a muse or verse you could write in, but haven’t?

I have various oc ideas I want to toy with, but worry about adding too many muses that I overwhelm myself. I toyed with a few other turn canons, but nothing ever stuck. I want to write more of Cassie & Eleanor though.

I have various verse ideas, so I would say my vampire verses and werewolf verses that I would like to explore more. Or Evie’s da or historical verse (like her in the amrev time period, but really any time period as long as I am knowledgeable of it). I also really like my crossover r.dr2 verses (like Jacob & Evie’s verse). I really, really want to try an arranged marriage au with a lot of plotting with one of my mutuals.

[gukyi]

the art of the rom-com | jjk

summary: FILM395, the art of the rom-com, was supposed to be an easy a with one of your favorite professors, but it’s not. it’s actually a sisyphean torture that comes in the form of fellow film student jeon jungkook, who has no problem responding to every one of your discussion posts about the consumerist ideals underlying every romance movie with his own paragraphs on the beauty of love like the hopeless romantic he is. and when the two of you find yourselves partnered up for your final project, which is to create a short film on rom-coms, jungkook decides to take it upon himself to show you what love is really like.

{enemies to lovers!au, college!au}

pairing: film major!jungkook x film major!reader (female) genre: fluff, comedy, slight angst, this is literally a rom-com in fic form word count: 33k warnings: college alcohol consumption, discussion board posts, emotionally constipated characters, film major shenanigans, blonde jungkook who’s also in a hip hop dance troupe, miscommunication, if you hate rom-coms do not read this fic

a/n: i am so so so excited to share this monster of a jungkook fic (tho let’s be real, 30k is pretty standard for me now ;-;) with you all! this is basically rom-com trash, but it’s my rom-com trash, and i hope you all enjoy!

on a sadder, less exciting note: after this fic i will be taking an extended writing hiatus until at least the beginning of may. my semester is picking up and i unfortunately just don’t currently have any upcoming fics planned for you guys. i hope you understand!! maybe i’ll do a couple of ask games here and there to see if anything piques my interest, but other than that please do not expect major works of writing for a while. love you all!

500 Days of Summer is a movie you all have probably seen before. That being said, I encourage you to respond to this discussion board from a film perspective as opposed to a viewer’s perspective. How did 500 Days of Summer alter the classic narrative of boy-meets-girl? Do you think it was a smart move, on the parts of Webb, Neustadter, and Weber, to do so? Why or why not?

Jeon Jungkook on February 12th at 9:53PM

I thought that the change in the boy-meets-girl narrative that had been popularized by rom-coms of the 1990s definitely contributed to his popularity and its attractiveness towards viewers in general. The film makes it clear that the story does not have a so-called happy ending, but despite that, it still brings into discussion the idea of love and soulmates and true connection. And that’s important, because despite the film’s not-so-happy ending, it makes it a point to emphasize that those things are real. That love is real. I thought it was an excellent move on the parts of the writers and director, because they both broke standards in terms of happy endings in rom-coms and they stayed true to the message at hand. 

Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM

I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?

When you walk into class, Jeon Jungkook is already there. 

He sits in the front row, the seat closest to the door in your puny little classroom, much too small for twenty-students to fit comfortably, let alone watch movies on the pull-down projector screen above the chalkboard. You’re convinced he’s chosen that seat just so he can grin at you whenever you walk in the room, always later than him because apparently, he has nothing better to do with his time than show up to class early and smirk at you when you arrive. 

As you shuffle past his seat towards your own—second row, middle of the room, centered with the lecturer’s podium—with your usual scowl drawn neatly across your face, Jungkook says, overly bright and cheery, “Good morning, Y/N.”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to make your nose scrunch up in further disgust. “Shut up,” you grumble back, stuffing yourself into your chair and pulling out your laptop. One row in front of you and five seats to the right, you see Jungkook chuckle. 

Glowering, you open up your Notes document for the class and try to avoid staring at Jungkook’s side profile, the way he’s slouching lazily in his seat, and what looks to be a lengthy paragraph on his computer screen, a task that proves to be particularly difficult because he happens to sit in the exact spot you have to look in order to see your professor enter the room. What the hell is he even writing, anyway?

He straightens up the moment she does, cheerful as always as she smiles at everyone. “Good morning, everyone.”

The lot of you respond with halfhearted smiles and waves. 

“I can just feel the enthusiasm radiating throughout the room,” she jokes, clenching her fists together in success. At least that gets a couple of you to laugh. “Which is great, because before we get to anything today, we’re gonna talk about the final project.”

You smile to yourself, immediately pulling up the copy of the syllabus you had downloaded to your desktop, scrolling right down to where she had outlined information about the final project in big, bolded letters. There are a lot of reasons you’ve taken this class, not the least of which is the fact that you have had Professor Pollack three times prior to this and she’s loved you in every class, but the final project was definitely one of the major selling points. 

Pollack pulls up a more detailed final project document on the projector as she steps out from behind the podium. “As you guys know, your final project is a thirty-to-forty minute short film involving rom-coms. You guys have a lot of freedom, it can be a rom-com, it could be a documentary about rom-coms, anything. It just needs to involve the topic of rom-coms somehow. I know a lot of you have actor friends who would be more than happy to have a star-crossed lovers fling or whatever. Go wild. Just keep it PG-13, because I can’t in good faith have nude bodies of your fellow college students on my screen.”

You snort to yourself. Makes you wonder how many times Pollack has seen sex scenes of college students on her screen before. Too many, probably. 

Unintentionally, your eyes drift over to Jungkook. He seems to be working on that hefty paragraph of his, typing something you assume is completely unrelated to the topic at hand and is further proof that Jungkook just doesn’t give a shit about anything involving this class. Whatever. You turn back to Pollack. 

“Good projects not only capture the essence of what a rom-com is, but also put their own twist on the story and bring into question the topics we discuss in class, like truthfulness, realistic portrayals of love, and viewer interpretation,” she continues, and with every word you feel heart beat faster in excitement. “I know you’re all excellent filmmakers. That’s why you’ve taken this class. But what I want you to do is get into the nitty-gritty of the makeup of a rom-com and distill it as much as possible. We’ll be watching them all in class during the last week. Yes, Celia?”

You all turn to look at Celia, who sits in the third row, second seat from the left. “This is a partner project, right?” 

Well. That’s the one downside. As much as you know that cooperation is an important life skill, you would much rather prefer to produce the entire movie yourself. But you love Pollack and you already know you’re on track to get a good grade in this class, so whatever. You’ll deal. 

As long as you can pick your teammate. 

“Yes,” Pollack affirms, “and with that excellent segue, I will now announce your partners.”

Shit. 

Pollack pulls out a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, like she had just come up with the arrangements on the morning train ride to campus, and begins reading. Slowly, as she ticks off names one by one, everyone begins to turn around, locking eyes with their partners and exchanging guess-it’s-us-two-huh? smiles. Everyone except—

“And lastly, Jungkook and Y/N.”

You freeze in place. You look up at your professor, eyes wide and shocked, because nobody knows better than her how much the two of you have been butting heads this entire semester. But when you meet her eyes and she smiles knowingly, shrugging her shoulders, you know you’re doomed. Hesitantly, almost like you’re scared to find out what happens when you do, you shift your gaze towards where Jungkook sits in the front right corner of the room. Only he’s not just sitting. He’s turned a full one hundred-and-eighty degrees just so he can smirk at you from across the room, a glint in his eye. 

Jungkook laughs at your cold-stone, shellshocked reaction. Like he knows how much you’ll hate this, and you know how much he’ll enjoy it. 

From here, you actually have a pretty good view of his laptop screen, brightness turned all the way up because he apparently doesn’t care who reads his screen. Or maybe he just likes showing off how much he writes so he can establish dominance over everyone else. Except you, of course. But when you look a little closer, you notice he’s got the class discussion board for the week up on his Chrome window, two paragraphs typed into the text box. 

Right above is your response to his comment. 

Is that what he was working on? His reply to your reply? Right now? He has the audacity to draft it right here, in front of you, where he knows you can see? He doesn’t even care that you’re blatantly staring at it. In fact, he actually seems to be relishing in it.

You’re so caught off guard by the contents of his computer screen that when you look back up at him on instinct, you catch a wink in your direction. 

Your fists tighten by your side. 

Class is rather uneventful after the whole partner fiasco, as Pollack transitions into your usual dose of a short lecture on the film and then a class discussion that goes absolutely nowhere because everyone is too concerned with the final project to care. Whatever you talk about, you will be hard pressed to know, because you spend the entire rest of the period scowling at the blank page of your Notes document as you try to formulate a way to convince Pollack to change your partner. Would she accept a dozen doughnuts as a bribe? A box is only ten dollars from Dunkin’.

When Pollack finally shuts her laptop screen and begins her weekly goodbye spiel, you are the first one out of the room. Hastily, you stuff your laptop into your bag, zip it up as best as you can (which means that the tops of your water bottle and umbrella are sticking out, but who cares), and shuffle out the room right as Pollack is bidding you all farewell, just so you don’t have to look at Jungkook’s stupid, smug little grin on the way out. 

Faintly, you remember Pollack saying something about getting your partner’s contact information so you can start working, but fuck that. Jungkook knows your name. He can find you. If you must spend the entire semester communicating through Instagram DMs, then so be it. You’ve communicated with men in worse ways. Like through LinkedIn.

There’s a small seating area half a flight down from where your puny little classroom is, a few tables and a bench that wraps around the wall, posters splayed out on the corkboard to the right, staples littering both the board and the floor it rests above. Nobody ever seems to use this, despite the innumerable posters advertising everything from dance troupe shows to financial literacy talks, which makes it the perfect place for you to brood and gather your thoughts. It’s also in the direct opposite direction of the exit. So that’s good.

Taking your anger out on your personal belongings (as opposed to that bitchass smirk on Jungkook’s face), you begin to shove your umbrella and water bottle into the pocket of your backpack, fighting to nestle them amongst your other worldly possessions, like your pencil case and what looks to be a small nest of receipts at the bottom of the back. No wonder it’s so clogged up down there. 

If anything gives you a sense of control, it’s cleaning. One by one, you pluck out the receipts from your bag, nose scrunching up as you try to remember every purchase you’ve made in the past three months. Plus, one of these receipts is from when you bought some dryer sheets from CVS, so that means the five inches of actual information are also accompanied by three feet of coupons that expired two weeks ago. Ugh, what a waste. 

“Don’t look so angry, you’ll have to get used to seeing this face a lot.”

You look up from where you’ve been inspecting an old receipt from a midnight McDonald’s trip to find Jungkook standing in front of you, backpack hanging loosely on his bomber jacket-clad shoulder and that same stupid grin written all over his same stupid face. 

“Can I help you?” You drawl. Great. Now Jungkook can add “saw all her receipts” to the list of embarrassing things he’s caught you doing. 

“Can I help you?” Jungkook fires back with a scoff, blonde hair bouncing as he jerks his head flippantly. “Looks like someone needs to take an Accounting class or something.”

“I’m just doing some spring cleaning,” you sneer. It’s February. “What do you want?”

“What, no ‘Hello, partner’? ‘So excited to be working with you this semester’? I’m hurt,” Jungkook says, placing a hand to his heart as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “I thought we had something good, Y/N. Isn’t that why Pollack paired us up?”

You’re pretty sure she just likes watching the world burn. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you chide, knowing that Jungkook already must get enough of a kick out of just seeing the annoyed look on your face. 

“Please, like I even need to. You think I don’t notice the way you stare at me during class? I know you must like what you see,” Jungkook flirts, just to be extra irritating. 

While he’s stroking his own ego, you tear off a piece of that CVS receipt, one of the expired coupons for Three Dollars Off Any Shampoo or Conditioner, and scribble your number on the back. The rest of the receipts you scoop up and dump in the trash can to your right before you zip up your backpack and hike it over your shoulder. 

“Here,” you say gruffly, shoving the paper against his chest as you head towards the stairwell. 

“How forward of you, Y/N, you know you could have just asked—”

Pausing right before you turn the corner and head out the door, you turn back to look at Jungkook, already exhausted from having to interact with him for five minutes. “And when you’re done jerking yourself off,” you say pointedly, “text me.”

You storm out the door.

[February 13th, 1:24PM]

Unknown Number: guess who ;)

You: Wow I have NO idea You: Keanu Reeves?

Unknown Number: haha very funny Unknown Number: it’s jungkook

You: Damn shame You: You done jerking off yet

Maybe: Jungkook: what makes you think i’m not doing that right now ;)))

You: You don’t have the coordination to text me and masturbate at the same time You: What do you want

Jungkook: ouch, harsh Jungkook: can’t i just want to talk to my final project partner? :D

[February 13th, 2:17PM]

Jungkook: alright fine Jungkook: just wanna see when you wanna meet up

You: Guess I don’t have a choice do I

Jungkook: unless you wanna facetime

You: Is that an option?

Jungkook: how about friday at 3 Jungkook: in one of the greene gsrs

You: You think you can manage to reserve one of those?

Jungkook: watch me

[February 13th, 2:21PM]

Jungkook: [screenshot sent] Jungkook: done

You: Do you want a gold star for all that hard work you just did? All that manual labor? You: Fine. See you then.

Jungkook: miss you already <3

Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM

I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?

Jeon Jungkook on February 13th at 7:35PM.

You make a good point, Y/N, but I think you missed the whole point of the movie. It’s not about their breakup or the not-so-happy ending or even Tom’s problems. It’s about the journey they go on and what Tom learns in the process. If you watch the trailer then you’d go into the movie knowing they weren’t gonna last. The results of whatever Tom and Summer do to contribute to their eventual breakup should not come as a surprise to the viewer. The whole point of the movie is that they spent five hundred days together and Tom is now recounting those days to anyone who will watch. And you know who’s watching? People who want to hear a story. About love. And loss. And everything in between. Isn’t that the whole reason we watch romance movies anyway?

Sometimes, you wonder if the garishness of Professor Pollack’s shoebox-sized office is the reason not very many students attend her office hours. The walls are lined with movie posters taken from a theater going out of business, the shelves stuffed to the brim with Disney World trinkets and old film memorabilia. She’s installed these thick red velvet curtains along her single window, making the whole room look like some sort of 1950s movie lair. 

In a way, you suppose it kind of is. 

You hear the taps of her Converse shoes as they come down the hallway and round the corner into the office.

“You know, Y/N, I was surprised to see you signed up for my office hours when I logged in this morning,” Pollack says as she enters the room, handing you the coffee in her right hand as she takes a sip out of the one from her left. Last year, the film department bought a Breville coffee maker with the leftover funds from a movie showing fundraiser and it is, in your humble opinion, the best investment the department has ever made.

“Why? I see you all the time,” you ask, eyebrows raised. You and Professor Pollack are not lacking in social connection. She’s written you a letter of recommendation and she knows your coffee order. 

“The very first time we ever spoke outside of class, you sat down at my Starbucks table while I was eating lunch just so you could introduce yourself and ask me about my opinion on the Mamma Mia remake,” she deadpans. “We don’t exactly speak through official forums.”

Well, she’s got you there. 

“I know…” you begin, trailing off awkwardly as you take a sip of your coffee. It’s burning hot and scalds your tongue a little, but it’s nice. It’s been cold recently. “But I just thought we could talk… privately.”

Pollack rolls her eyes as she reclines in her chair, back hitting the padding of the chair with a thud. “Goodness, I wonder what you’re here to talk to me about.”

“Okay, please pardon my French, but what the freak, Professor?” You say, because the words have been sitting hot on your tongue ever since you walked into your office and you didn’t think sending an email that looked like:

To: tpollack@university.edu From: y/n@university.edu Subject: what the freak

Dear Professor Pollack,

What the freak?????????

Cheers, Y/N

would be very professional on your part. 

Pollack lets out this honk of a laugh, loud and sudden, shaking her head fondly. “Come on, Y/N. You must have known I would have partnered the two of you up.”

“I was hoping you’d let us choose?” You emphasize. 

“And miss out on what very well may be one of the best final projects of the class, produced by my two best students of the semester? Absolutely not,” she says, smiling knowingly at you. 

Even her sudden reveal that you happen to be one her best students this semester isn’t enough to soothe your worries and calm your anger. You’re honored, but you have bigger problems. Problems that start with ‘Jeon’ and end with ‘Jungkook’. 

Pollack looks at your beaten-down expression and leans forward, placing her coffee cup on the wooden desk in front of her. “Listen, Y/N. You’re an excellent student and one of the most talented filmmakers I’ve seen in a long time. Your discussion posts are detailed, well-written, and thought-provoking. I know that the two of you will make a great project.”

You scoff. “We can’t agree on a single thing.”

“Sometimes that happens in life, and you just have to deal with it,” Pollack says sagely. 

“So I can’t change partners?”

“Not unless you’d like to fail the final,” Pollack comments, shrugging. How rude of her to say such a thing, not taking the option to change partners off the table entirely but making it so that if you do, you’ll pretty much be shooting yourself in the foot. Or worse. 

You narrow your eyes at her. “That’s low.”

“That’s life,” she corrects. 

“Ugh.” You get up out of your seat, taking angry sips of your coffee as you desperately try to think of another way to get out of it. Are doughnuts still an option?

“I have full faith that the both of you will come up with an excellent project,” Pollack says like it’s some sort of consolation as she walks you to the door to her office. Yeah, right. You and Jungkook spend your free time making snide responses to each other’s discussion posts like it’s nobody’s business. You’re probably the only two people at your entire university that care enough to make replies to each other’s replies. Like Tinder from hell. “You shouldn’t be worried, Y/N.”

“I’m not worried,” you say, completely worried. “I just—I don’t know how Jungkook and I will get along.”

Pollack grins to herself. Does she know something you don’t? Is she up to something? She looks at you as you linger in the doorway, feeling utterly helpless after a meeting that accomplished absolutely nothing, and she smiles. 

“You’ll find a way.” 

Reserving a group study room in the Greene Library and Collection should not be some gymnastics act that involves a warm-up, practice, a routine, and song and dance. In theory, all you have to do is log onto the library’s homepage, navigate to the reservations tab, enter your name and ID number, pick a date and time, and profit. 

Of course, the demand for the study rooms does tend to outweigh the supply. There are over ten thousand students at your university. And only twenty rooms. 

And still, you have the unfortunate luck of being stuck in one of them for an hour and a half with none other than Jeon Jungkook. 

You see him coming into the library at 3PM sharp through the opposite entrance, a little surprised he didn’t show up ten minutes early like he does in class, just so he would have an excuse to complain about having to wait for you. Feeling a little threatened, you pick up the pace so that you can meet his lengthy stride, keeping an eye on his direction so you know which room he’s aiming for.

You arrive at Greene GSR #18 at the exact same time.

“So nice to see you,” Jungkook says, too cheerful, as you reach out to open the door. 

“Mmm,” you mumble in response as you enter the room, flinging your backpack onto the floor by your chair with a thud as you take a seat. The faster you start, the faster you can get this over with.

Jungkook, not at all outwardly discouraged by your clear disdain for him, rallies on happily. “So, what were you thinking for the project?” But he doesn’t even let you open your mouth to answer before he says, “Oh, wait, let me guess: a social commentary on the consumerist ideals that underline every modern movie and encourage the pursuit of an empty dream by abandoning concrete career and personal goals in favor of romantic fulfillment.”

You scowl at him, even though that’s exactly what you were thinking of doing. You’re almost positive Pollack’s had enough of seeing college students try to engineer the craziest fake dating scenarios they can imagine just for a class project. Why not do something outside of the box? 

“Well, then what do you want to do?” You challenge, already bristling. Like Jungkook has a better idea. 

“Maybe something that doesn’t scream ‘killjoy’ as much as you do,” Jungkook retorts easily. He opens his mouth to spit out something else but then rolls his eyes and shrugs, shaking his head. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have even asked.”

“Don’t pin this on me,” you immediately rebuke, pointing at him. “You’re the one who wants to make some sort of generic rom-com for our final project. Besides, I’m pretty sure every idea you even think of will have been done already.”

“Just because something is cliche doesn’t make it bad,” Jungkook says. “I swear, I don’t think you understand what the word cliche even means. A cliche thing, by default, is something that lots of people like. Therefore, it is largely well-received by the general public.”

“Oh, then that must mean that all rom-coms are deserving of a People’s Choice Award then, right?”

Jungkook frowns, getting exasperated. You aren’t much farther off. “I don’t know why you’re being so—so resistant! You know that romantic comedies are supposed to be fun, right?” 

“They’re not that fun to me,” you comment snidely. 

“That’s because you’re a stick in the mud who takes everything way too seriously,” Jungkook replies like it’s some sort of known fact. “Have you ever even been in a relationship?”

“That’s none of your business,” you tell him firmly. Who does he think he is, going around asking that sort of thing? Especially to you! Like you could care any less about what Jungkook thinks of your love life. Intrusive, much? “Besides, you asking that is exactly my point. Not everything has to be about finding love and searching for your soulmate or whatever bullshit like that. Some people don’t really care that much.”

“You act like wanting to find love and wanting to be successful are mutually exclusive,” Jungkook points out. “You don’t have to abandon all of your life goals just to find love, you know. It doesn’t have to be the most important thing in your life for you to even care about it a little. It’s natural for people to want love.”

“Then I guess I’m just a robot.”

“You sure are acting like one,” Jungkook comments easily. “What, are you about to ask me to pick out all of the pictures with traffic lights?”

“I’m allowed to have my own views on love, just like you,” you say. Isn’t that the whole point of your discussion boards? A forum where you can discuss these sorts of things through an academic lens? A barrier that keeps the two of you from going at each other’s throats when you’re engaging in the class material? It doesn’t take a genius, or even half of one, to know that you and Jungkook can’t seem to agree on anything in your FILM395 class. 

Jungkook scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘your own views on love’? As far as I’m aware, your view on love is that you don’t have one! What do you even think love really is?”

You frown at him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says like it’s obvious. “This project is about filming a short romantic comedy, about people falling in love with each other. How do you expect me to do that if we don’t reach a mutual agreement on what love is?”

You scoff. “There is no way in hell I am going to agree with you on anything concerning love.” Jeon Jungkook still thinks love is all rainbows and sunshine. Cries at the end of Love, Actually even though he’s seen it five times already. Believes in soulmates. Believes there are people out there that were built for each other. He flutters from one person to the next like a butterfly, even though he’s more like a moth drawn to any open flame within a five-mile radius. He’s convinced he’ll find his true love here, in college, just like his parents found each other. 

Yeah, right.

“Then what are we supposed to do, huh?” He says with an eyebrow raised. “We have a month to make a movie that’s fifty percent of our grade.”

“The social commentary is still on the table,” you point out. Sure, it’s not at all a romantic comedy, but it’s about them, which Pollack said was totally fine. Besides, she has been teaching you the entire semester, hasn’t she? She should know by now not to expect some cushy lovey-dovey story about two people who were destined to be with each other and can overcome all obstacles with their love. 

Deep down, a part of you wonders if that’s why she paired you up with Jungkook. If she’s had enough of the sappy love stories that Jungkook probably wanted to do, didn’t want to see another cynical commentary on capitalism in Hollywood.

“Wow, what a thrilling idea,” Jungkook deadpans. “Please, tell me more.” His voice is lifeless. 

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like your idea would be any better. Who would we even get to star in a rom-com we filmed? It’s not like the two of us could do it.”

You regret the words the instant they come out of your mouth. In horror, you watch as they sink into Jungkook’s brain, etching themselves into his mind as a lightbulb turns on, a bright idea popping into his thoughts. 

He opens his mouth, but you get there first. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, absolutely not. I am not starring in a rom-com with you.”

That is something you can say with one-hundred percent confidence. Something that you know will never change. 

“Just hear me out,” Jungkook pleads, looking a little desperate as he wrings his hands together, aching to spill the bubbling plan that’s been stewing in his head. 

You narrow your eyes in suspicion but lean back into your chair, a silent signal for him to continue. It’s not as if you have any better idea.s 

“Okay. It’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary,” he says, something that (and you can’t believe you’re saying this) actually piques your interest. Moreso than anything else he’s ever said to you. “You think love is totally manufactured, right? That Hollywood creates the illusion of it to sell to people paying twenty dollars for a movie ticket?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do that. Let’s prove it’s manufactured.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” It’s not like you can walk into a factory and ask them to make the “love” emotion for you. 

“We’ll be the stars.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s your best idea by a long shot, the home run of all home runs, your golden ticket to an A.

You scrunch up your nose, hesitant. “Wait, I don’t know—”

“It’s perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, eyes wide with excitement. “Think about it. It’ll be a mockumentary of a stereotypical rom-com. Except it won’t be this big Hollywood production, it’ll be real life. And it won’t be between two paid actors with years of experience under their belt, it’ll be us.” His eyes are practically bulging out of his head, big brown eyes glinting with excitement.

“So what are we gonna do? Act out our own rom-com in an attempt to see if either one of us will fall in love with the other?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Not necessarily. It’s a mockumentary, right? So it’s grounded in real life even if it is based upon the stereotypical boy-meets-girl rom-com. It won’t be super scripted or anything. Think of it more like… a chronicle.”

You scoff. “Of what?”

“Of us,” Jungkook says easily. “Of the time we have to spend together to film this damn project anyway. I say that rom-coms are emblematic of the natural human desire for love, and that deep down love is the thing that makes us happy. You say that rom-coms are consumerist propaganda, or whatever it is you think they are—”

“They are, and you can’t change my mind about that,” you interrupt, just for clarity. Can’t have Jungkook thinking he’s going to somehow convince you otherwise.

“—so, with this project, let’s see which one of us is right. If the time we have to spend together, making this mockumentary rom-com, will really change how we feel about each other, or if it won’t.”

How you feel about each other? You almost laugh when Jungkook says it out loud. There’s no room for questioning in your mind when it comes to how you two feel about each other. Two desperate-to-please students with opposite views on the entire structure of a class and three years of experience arguing your points in essays under your belts. 

Jungkook believes in destiny, right? Then he must know that the two of you are destined to never get along.

“You should be a car salesman,” you joke. Jungkook’s certainly excellent at pitches.

“So, you in?”

You narrow your eyes, still a little wary of whatever it is Jungkook’s putting down. But it’s not like you have any better ideas. And the sooner you agree on something, the sooner you can get this goddamn project over with and never have to sit in class with Jeon Jungkook ever again. 

“Only because this’ll finally prove to you that not everything can be solved by finding love,” you say. It’s about as good of a ‘yes’ as he’s going to get out of you. 

Jungkook grins, mischievous as always. There’s certainly something else he’s plotting, you just aren’t sure what. Maybe he’s in cahoots with Pollack. “Or,” he begins, lips curling upwards, “you’ll just fall in love with me.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He holds out his hand, palm facing up as he waits for your response, that devilish glint that you hate twinkling in his eyes. 

As if you’re going to fall in love with Jungkook. For this stupid project? No way. Just because it’s a filmmaking project doesn’t make it any more bearable than your other assignments. It’s a partner project. They are, by their very nature, excruciating. You’ll be surprised if you end this project and you aren’t even more irritated with Jungkook. Does he really think you’ll actually develop some sort of affection for him?

You take his hand on your own, palm pressed against his, and you eye him carefully. Just because Jungkook’s got something up his sleeve doesn’t mean you don’t. Finally, finally, Jungkook will see why love is stupid and manufactured and fake. Why it doesn’t bring people together but instead tears them apart. 

Maybe then he’ll leave you and your discussion posts in peace.

You smile up at him. 

“I guess we will.”

When Ruby Rhodes is not six feet deep in The Princeton Review’s MCAT test prep book, she can usually be found at the small bakery five blocks west and two blocks north of your little campus, a family-owned place passed down through three generations. It’s her favorite place, and yours, too, because the coffee is delicious and the pastries are even better. 

Plus, hardly anyone from your school ever comes here, which means the wifi speed is eons better than the Starbucks inside the main food court. 

She’s halfway through a tiramisu and a rerun of The Bachelor from two seasons ago when you sit down across from her. 

“Any good?” You ask, pulling out your laptop and squeezing it onto the tiny marble table in between the two of you. 

“The food or the show?” Ruby asks over a mouthful of cake. 

“Either.” 

Ruby swallows down the piece sitting on her tongue before responding. “The tiramisu is delicious, and The Bachelor is eh. I’ve seen this episode three times already.”

“Then why are you watching it again?” You ask, laughing. Does Ruby think something different is going to happen?

“Because we’re in between weeks right now and honestly, The Bachelor is kind of dry this season,” Ruby says with a frown. 

“You’ve got some tiramisu on your cheek,” you tell her, pointing to the left side of her face where the bright mascarpone cream sticks out like a sore thumb against her dark skin. 

“It’s just so yummy, I can’t help but stick my whole face in it,” Ruby jokes as she wipes her face with the napkin on her lap. The Bachelor rerun plays on in the background, and you can hear the gasps of the women through Ruby’s discarded headphones. 

You roll your eyes. “Why do you even watch that show still? You know it’s all crap.”

“Just because you think it’s crap doesn’t mean I do,” Ruby insists, playing out an argument the two of you have had plenty of times over the course of your friendship. “Watching it makes me happy. So I do it.”

“But it’s all fake,” you say, frowning in disapproval. “The couples don’t even stay together in the end anyway.”

“It’s a totally pre-constructed show, but it’s not fake in the moment. And I don’t expect the final couple to stay together.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Believe me, I’ve seen enough Bachelor seasons to know those odds. I just like watching the ride. It’s cute.”

“You say that about everything.”

“That’s because everything is cute,” Ruby says pointedly. “I like seeing the good in people.”

Ruby’s always been the exact opposite of you in terms of worldviews. The embodiment of a real-life fairy. She puts butterfly clips in her hair and buys herself bouquets of daisies and lilies. She sits in cafes with her headphones in and sketches the people she sees outside the window. She’s studying to be a doctor so she can spend the rest of her life helping others. 

And you? 

Well, the Oscars have always been a bit of a long shot. 

The curiosity eating at you, you pose a question to her. “Hypothetically, if there were to exist a mockumentary on rom-coms and love, would you watch it?”

Ruby pauses for a second as she furrows her brows. Then she shrugs and says, “Only if the two leads fell in love at the end. Why?”

“No reason,” you say, looking away. 

There’s no fooling Ruby and her eagle eyes. 

“What is it?” She asks, a grin playing at her lips as she looks at you. “Come on, you don’t just ask me shit like that without a reason.”

“It’s for a final project,” you explain succinctly. No need to go into details. 

“You’re making a rom-com for a final project?” Ruby sounds about as skeptical as you did when you spoke to Jungkook. 

“It’s a mockumentary about rom-coms.”

“But… it’s a rom-com, right? Like, you’re going to be making a rom-com? Where people fall in love?”

Hopefully not. 

“Sort of?”

Ruby squints her eyes, trying to process all the information. You’re not surprised that she has to take a moment to think—you are certainly the last person on earth to ever admit to filming a rom-com. But, as you’ve stated, it’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary about them. That distinction is vital.

“Wait, is this for that class with Pollack?” Ruby asks. “I remember you telling me you were taking it. You said this was a partner project, though, right? So who are you working with?”

Curse Ruby and her knack for remembering things. She’ll make a great doctor, that’s for sure, but right now you wish she would just forget things like everybody else. 

You sigh. “Jungkook.”

Ruby doesn’t need to think twice about who that is. “Wait, seriously? You’re working with him? Isn’t he the guy that responds to all your discussion posts?”

“Yes,” you say, rubbing your temples with your fingertips. You don’t even like thinking about him, let alone saying his name. The fact that he has to occupy any part of your brain at all gives you a headache.

“Damn, that sucks,” Ruby says, not feeling very sorry for you at all. “So you’re filming a rom-com with him?”

“It’s a mockumentary,” you specify, feeling yourself getting irritated. “It is fake.”

“Just like my shows, huh?” Ruby muses to herself, too analytical for her own good. 

“Listen, you don’t need to fall in love to make a mockumentary about it,” you say, refusing to consider any sort of alternative. 

“Don’t you?”

You sneer. “Just shut up and eat your tiramisu.”

Ruby lets out a laugh at that, this wonderful mix between a wheeze and a honk that makes you smile every time you hear it, even if it’s at your own expense. Ruby decides she’s had enough of mentally torturing you with the thought of feeling anything but extreme distaste towards Jungkook and goes back to her show, letting you brood in peace. 

You don’t need to fall in love to make a film about it. Just like you don’t need to be a masterchef to film Gordon Ramsey screaming at someone who undercooked chicken. You’re a filmmaker. You can make a film out of anything. Including love. Even if it is with someone like Jungkook. 

Can’t you?

Jeon Jungkook may be a disillusioned college student in love with the idea of love itself, but at least he’s not too shabby of a filmmaker. 

Funnily enough, it actually sort of surprises you that you’ve never encountered each other before. Especially considering you’re in the same major program at your school, a program that only accepts about fifty students per year at most. You suppose that in whatever general program classes you had to take in freshman and sophomore year you just never crossed paths. Plus, he’s a filmmaking concentration and you’re doing screenwriting, so it’s very possible that you would have just never spoken had the two of you not registered for the same semester of FILM395.

Huh. Imagine that. A life without him. 

Sort of makes you wish you had put this class off for one more semester. 

As the two of you kickstart your project, you both immediately agree that you need a third person’s help. You and Jungkook can do plenty, but you are only two people. And there’s nothing in the final project guidelines that says you can’t enlist other people to partake in the production. But you don’t need help with the filming and editing. You need help with the interviews. 

“Is this bedsheet good enough?” Kim Taehyung, a senior in the film program, asks as he’s Command-stripping a queen-sized black bedsheet to an empty wall in the living room of his tiny one-bedroom apartment. 

“As long as it fits into the frame,” Jungkook responds from where he’s standing behind the camera, set up on a tripod to capture a specific angle. “You’re not going to be in the shot anyway. You’ll just be asking the questions.”

“Good, because I look really ugly right now,” Taehyung says with a grin. You roll your eyes. Taehyung must know he always looks good. Even you can’t deny him of that. 

“This is ridiculous,” you say, seated on the singular couch in his apartment. You’re leaning on your elbow as you watch Taehyung fiddle with the bedsheet and Jungkook futz with the camera, the two of them repositioning themselves over and over again until everything’s perfect. “What are you even gonna ask us?”

“I came up with some… preliminary questions,” Taehyung says suggestively. “But I haven’t told either of you what they are so that your reactions can be more genuine.”

“Great,” you deadpan. 

“Wow, someone’s excited,” Jungkook comments snidely. 

“I know we agreed on periodic interviews for the sake of the mockumentary but I don’t know why we have to be so… so serious about them,” you say with a frown. 

“We have to promise to be honest with what we say, alright? Like, actually honest. This sets a guideline for the rest of our relationship,” Jungkook says like it’s no big deal. Like the foundation of your relationship isn’t the fact that the two of you have been engaged in discussion-board war ever since the semester began. 

“Our ‘relationship’?” You say with a scoff. 

“Do you promise?” Jungkook says. 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I promise.” Whatever. “What do you even think is going to happen between us in the next few weeks?”

Jungkook smirks. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You don’t like the sound of that. 

Over the next ten minutes, Taehyung gets the sheet attached to his wall and pulls over two stools from his kitchen counters, old-timey wooden ones he got from a thrift store for five dollars a pop, one for him and one for the poor soul who has to be interviewed. You’ve agreed to do them separately but Taehyung’s apartment is only so big and you are only three people, which means that whoever isn’t being interviewed still has to be behind the camera, listening to the other person. 

Makes you sort of nervous about whatever’s stewing up inside Jungkook’s mind. Wonder what the hell it is he’s plotting up there. 

Once everything is settled, Taehyung looks at the two of you as he asks who’s going first. 

You turn to Jungkook, who’s already grinning. “Ladies first.”

For someone who has spent their whole life watching and making movies, being in front of the camera feels weirdly uncomfortable to you. You’re so used to being behind it instead, directing others as they move around the frame, telling them how to feel and how to act and what to say, that having the spotlight shone on you is like picking through your thoughts with a fine-toothed comb. 

You adjust awkwardly in the bar stool seat as Jungkook stands behind the camera, twisting the lens until he gives you the thumbs-up. Quite frankly, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“You ready?” Taehyung asks as he takes a seat opposite you, just out of frame. 

“Well, we’ve gotta start somewhere, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Alright, Jungkook, start whenever you’re good.”

“Okay,” Jungkook chirps up. “Three, two, one—” He points to the both of you. 

“So, Y/N,” Taehyung begins, his voice suddenly much clearer. He sounds sort of like a news anchor. It’s oddly fitting. “Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You muse. 

“That didn’t answer my question,” Taehyung points out. Good thing the camera can’t see the way his eyebrows raise. 

“I suppose that there are worse things I could be doing,” you reason, which is about as good of an answer as Taehyung’s going to get. What was he expecting you to say? That you were thrilled to be filming this not-a-rom-com with your class nemesis? That you couldn’t wait to see what would happen?

“Loving the enthusiasm,” Taehyung jokes. You wonder what your classmates will think when they watch this back, hearing this unidentified deep male voice ask you and Jungkook questions about your relationship. “Let me ask you this: what’s your current relationship with Jungkook?”

“Uh…” you begin, nervous. Behind the camera, Jungkook has that same stupid, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. You sneer. “It’s… it’s professional.”

“Can you explain what you mean by that?” 

“I mean we’re classmates. That’s the relationship.”

“That’s it?” You can hear the skepticism in Taehyung’s voice, almost like he’s egging you on to say something more. 

“We’ve had some personal disagreements on topics discussed in class. But yes, we’re just classmates,” you elaborate slightly. It’s not as if anyone needs reminding of that, anyway. They all see your discussion board posts. 

“And how do you expect that relationship to change over the course of this project?”

“I don’t think it’ll change at all.” It’s the easiest answer so far. Requires no energy nor brain power for you to think about it. 

Taehyung nods his head in intrigue. “And why’s that?”

“Because this is a project for a class, not a life lesson.”

“Who says it can’t be both?”

You frown. “Whose side are you on?”

Five feet away, Jungkook laughs. 

Taehyung chuckles. “Alright, moving on. What do you expect from Jungkook over the next few weeks as you start working on building your relationship?”

“I hope he becomes less unbearable,” you say, though you suppose that’s more of a general life goal than one that’s project-specific. But it would be nice if he became a little more… palatable. Just so you don’t have to feel the urge to sock him in the face every time you speak to each other. 

“‘Less unbearable’, excellent,” Taehyung repeats. “Anything else?”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, not sure what else to say. What do you want from Jungkook? Obviously the two of you are about to embark on your own rom-com adventure, no doubt most of it his doing, but it’s hard to imagine that he himself (or you, for that matter) will change. If anything, the rom-com setting will just exacerbate the worst parts of both your personalities. Like some sort of curse. “I guess I just hope that the project goes smoothly.”

“I hope that it does, too,” Taehyung says with a smile. “Okay, last question.” Thank God. This interview couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it feels like an eternity to you. “Do you think you and Jungkook will fall in love at the end of this?”

“No.” You don’t leave any room for hesitation. “I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“We’re very different people with very different interests,” you explain succinctly. You’re sure Taehyung will grasp that once Jungkook has his turn and answers all the same questions. “He can try his hardest, but some things are just meant to stay the way they are.”

“Okay, thank you, Y/N, that’s all. I hope you found our conversation illuminating,” Taehyung says, his cue for the camera to stop rolling. You and Taehyung both turn to Jungkook, waiting for his signal, letting out a sigh when Jungkook gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Thank fuck,” you say, hopping off of the barstool happily. You head towards the camera, ready to kick Jungkook off of it, because it’s your turn to stand behind it with an annoying look on your face as you react to every stupid thing Jungkook says. You find that you’re actually sort of looking forward to it. Being behind the camera is where you feel most at home. Making faces at Jungkook is just a bonus. 

Jungkook’s still grinning that same goddamn grin when you approach him, making you narrow your eyes. 

“‘He can try his hardest’?” Jungkook teases, voice all high-pitched to mimic yours. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Ah yes, my mission in life,” you retort easily. Maybe goading him on isn’t the best course of action, but you’re so confident that you won’t change your mind you find yourself actually anticipating his efforts. “Think you have what it takes?”

“Believe me, I do,” Jungkook says with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

You roll your eyes and kick him off the camera with a shove, pushing him towards Taehyung as he waits diligently on that chair of his. 

“So, Jungkook, same questions,” Taehyung says as Jungkook gets ready in his seat, fixing the blonde strands of hair that curl around the side of his face, framing his cheeks. 

“What? That’s no fair, he got to think about all his answers,” you exclaim, positively indignant. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Jungkook says, voice sickly smooth, honey falling off his lips. “I’ve actually been thinking about the two of us for a long time.”

You pretend to throw up on Taehyung’s hardwood floor. 

As Taehyung promised, he asks Jungkook the same questions. And, as predicted, his answers about as far away from yours as the sun is from Pluto:

“Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”

Jungkook grins. “Yes, definitely. I actually took this class after hearing from a friend that the final project was a lot of fun.”

Taehyung beams. That friend was him. No wonder he was so happy to sign onto helping the two of you. 

“And how would you describe your current relationship with Y/N?”

“We’re soon-to-be-lovers.” 

“How forward of you.”

“Isn’t that my job?”

You have to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter behind the camera and ruining the interview. At least he’s not hiding anything. You’ll give him that. 

“So I suppose you expect the two of you to fall in love over the course of the project?”

“Yes, that’s going to happen.”

“And you seem pretty confident when you say that.”

Jungkook smirks as he turns to the camera. Or, more accurately, you. “Confidence is attractive.” 

You shake your head back at him. 

The rest of the interview falls pretty much into the same vein as the first few questions. Jungkook is so brazenly determined and hopeful and optimistic it actually pains you in a way, watching him make all of these promises both to you and himself that this project is going to turn out the way he hopes it does. His answers remind you of his discussion board posts, always looking on the bright side of every movie you watch, always finding the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel. A movie could be total Hollywood crap, filled with cheating scandals and misunderstandings and betrayals, and Jungkook could still find beauty in it. 

It’s strange. 

For the sake of you not actually throwing up in Taehyung’s lovely apartment, you tune out the majority of the middle of the conversation, having zero desire to listen to Jungkook wax poetic about your non-existent relationship like he’s saying his wedding vows. Only when Taehyung finally remarks that they’re on the last question do you finally come to again, ready to turn the camera off as soon as Jungkook finishes his answer. 

“Jungkook, do you think you and Y/N will fall in love at the end of this?”

“I do.” Wow, what a shocker. “I do, because I hope that by the end of this Y/N will have opened her eyes to the beauty of love, and will find joy in the feeling as something that makes her feel happy and warm. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the things we do together are meaningful. And even if we don’t last, I hope that her memories of us together will be ones she can look back upon fondly and be grateful for.”

You purse your lips together. If only it were that easy. 

“Alright, cut,” you say, voice distant as Jungkook thanks Taehyung for his time and hops off the bar stool. “Thanks, Tae.”

“Anytime, you guys,” Taehyung says with a grin. 

Jungkook comes over to where you’re standing, possibly to grab his camera and tripod but most definitely to rub his obnoxious personality all up in your face. 

“You really think you’re gonna get me to fall in love with you, huh?” You muse, an eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Just so you can prove a point?”

“Believe it or not, Y/N, but I actually think that all people deserve the chance to experience love and that happens to include you, as well,” Jungkook responds easily. 

The words put a sour taste in your mouth. “You think I deserve it, huh?”

Jungkook nods, face solemn as he looks at you, gazing into your eyes with those big brown ones of his own. It makes you feel something unfamiliar. Like he’s reading right through your chest, into your heart. You don’t like it. “Everyone deserves love.”

“You guys are coming back, right? So I can leave the sheet up?” Taehyung interrupts after he’s moved both of his bar stools back to his kitchen counter. 

“Yeah, we’ll be back,” Jungkook answers quickly. “Thanks for setting everything up, by the way.”

“Of course. Plus, this is a good background for my nudes,” Taehyung says casually, like he’s mentioning what he’s having for dinner. “Looking forward to seeing you guys again.”

“Us, too,” Jungkook says. “Ready to go?”

“Only because it means I don’t have to see you anymore,” you retort pointedly, grabbing your backpack from where it sits on his couch as you head towards the door. 

“Just you wait, Y/N,” Jungkook says as you leave Taehyung’s building, one of those old-timey Victorian houses that was converted into a whole bunch of apartments. “You’re gonna see that I’m right.”

“Really? About what?”

“About us,” Jungkook says. You come to the stoplight, where Jungkook keeps going straight and you turn right. 

“Us?”

Jungkook grins as you turn in the direction of your own apartment. And, just as the light turns green, he says, “Just you wait. We’re gonna fall in love, you and me.”

If he says so. 

“Hey! Y/N!”

You whip your head around at the sound of your name just as you’re opening the door to your local Starbucks, wondering who the hell is calling out to you at nine-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday. 

As it turns out, you don’t have to wonder too much, because the moment your eyes adjust to the blinding sunlight coming from the east side of campus you see Jungkook hurtling towards you, heavy black boots stomping down on the pavement as he rushes to catch up with you. 

“Can I help you?” You ask, thoroughly unimpressed, as you pull open the door, looking at Jungkook heaving beside you as he holds the door open for himself. 

“Just glad I caught you,” Jungkook gasps out between breaths. “Figured this might make a good scene for the movie.”

“It’s a mockumentary,” you remind him easily, getting in the line. 

“Whatever,” Jungkook says. “What do you normally get here? I don’t really go to Starbucks often.”

“Whatever will give me the most caffeine for the least amount of money,” you retort. 

“How efficient,” Jungkook comments. 

“You know that’s how I like to be,” you tell him with a pointed look. 

Jungkook mumbles his acknowledgement as he fumbles around in his backpack, fishing through the large pocket until he whips out his Canon, holding it out in front of him like he’s a dad about to film an embarrassing shot of his child. You look down at the camera just as he pans up to you, a confused frown written across your features. Jungkook laughs. 

“Do you really need to do that here?”

“I’m not even filming,” Jungkook says with a smile, like he just pulled his camera out so he could look at your unimpressed face through a different lens. “Look, you’re up.”

You turn around to find that the woman ahead of you in line has just moved towards the pick-up side of the counter, so you shimmy over towards the barista, ready to get this over with so you can dart out of the Starbucks as soon as possible. 

“Just a grande Americano, please,” you request simply, fingers grasping for the wallet inside your coat pocket. 

“Me too,” Jungkook chirps up from behind you. The closeness of his voice makes you jump, and suddenly you become keenly cognizant of how he’s practically pressed up next to you as he leans over towards the counter. You catch a glimpse of the debit card in his hand. “Here.”

“You don’t have to pay for me, it’s fine,” you quickly say, holding out your own card to the barista. 

“No, it’s okay, I want to. Here.” Jungkook pushes your hand away as he tries to stuff his card into the reader. 

“No, I won’t let you. I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own coffee,” you rebuke, feeling yourself growing oddly defensive. 

Jungkook sighs from behind you. “Oh, come on, you can’t let me do one nice thing for you?”

“Will one of you please pay, you’re holding up the line,” the barista asks in a desperate tone, clearly too overworked and too underpaid to be dealing with two bratty college students like yourselves. 

Jungkook manages to shove his card into the reader before you get the chance to do it yourself, pushing you to the side as he verifies all of his information and takes his receipt. Next to him, you seethe to yourself, feeling a personal loss even though you just got your coffee paid for. It’s not about the money. It’s about your pride. Never in your life have you wanted to so badly pay for an overpriced Starbucks coffee. 

You and Jungkook mosey over to the other side of the counter, waiting for your identical drinks to be made as you try and calculate how much longer you have to stand in the same room and breathe the same air as Jungkook. Seeing him in class, on your discussion board posts, and for your arranged final project meetings apparently isn’t enough, so now he has to invade your personal life, too. 

“What are you doing?” You huff out angrily, turning to Jungkook even as he holds his camera out in front of him, filming the Starbucks. 

“Recording our first meeting, obviously,” Jungkook says like it’s some kind of no-brainer. Like you were in on that from the moment he called your name out on the street. 

“What do you mean, ‘our first meeting’?” You scrunch up your nose in confusion. “We’ve known each other since the semester started.”

“I know, but…” Jungkook trails off unhelpfully, but you pick up what he’s putting down regardless. Right. This is supposed to be a mockumentary rom-com. And rom-coms always start with an introduction. 

The barista behind the counter calls out Jungkook’s name as he places two same-sized cups down at the pick-up station. The cup is burning hot, even with the little cardboard holder wrapped around it like a leg warmer, so you immediately move over to the station up against the wall with all of the sugar packets and napkins and little green splash sticks. Jungkook joins you without question, whether it be due to the fact that he doesn’t come here very often or because he just wants to keep invading your space, you couldn’t say. Grabbing one of the wooden sticks, you tug the plastic lid off of the cup and give the coffee a swirl. Watching you, Jungkook takes the lid off of his as well. 

“Are you just going to copy everything I do?” You deadpan. 

“Not everything…” Jungkook trails off suspiciously, looking down into his coffee like the two of them are conspiring something. 

“What are you talki—”

Without warning, Jungkook slams half of his body into you, and without a lid or one of those little green sticks, the coffee sploshes over the side of his cup and drenches the front of your exposed hoodie, hot liquid burning through the fabric of the hoodie and the t-shirt you have on underneath. You watch in horror as Jungkook plays it off like an accident, feet fumbling around on the hardwood floor like he had just tripped. But he didn’t just trip. He dumped half of his Americano onto the both of your fronts. 

“Jungkook!” You say instantly, resisting the urge to scream because you’re in a public place but feeling your skin go as hot as the coffee against your torso as you look up at him, fuming. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz,” Jungkook says, somehow able to regain his balance, hold his coffee cup, and film the whole adventure all at the same time. “That was totally my fault, let me help you with that.” 

The camera is from his perspective, which you suppose is about as real as it gets for something grounded in reality like a mockumentary, but in this position he’s able to make conversation with his eyes, big brown ones wide as he tries to signify what exactly he means when he purposely spills coffee all over the two of you. 

You get it. You’ve seen enough rom-coms to know why he just did what he did, but you still find your mouth agape as you stare up at him, smoldering and angry and a little shocked he would dare be so bold, especially in the middle of a Starbucks coffee shop. 

“For God’s sake,” you say with an exhausted sigh despite it not even being ten in the morning yet. Unable to form any other comprehensible words, you settle for just pulling out napkins from the dispenser and dabbing the front of your hoodie as Jungkook looks at you apologetically. You can’t even tell if he’s truly sorry or just putting on another one of his shows. 

“I feel so bad,” Jungkook says, and you calm yourself down enough to nod. At least he isn’t blatantly laughing. “Can I pay for dry cleaning?”

“You’re really gonna offer to pay for my dry cleaning?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

“It was my fault,” Jungkook admits. Now that you can agree on. 

You shake your head. “It’s okay. It’s just an old hoodie, it’s no big deal.”

“I’m still sorry,” Jungkook insists, and the more he says it the more you actually find yourself starting to believe him. Even if he did just spill coffee all over you. “Here, let me give you my jacket—”

“That’s not necessary,” you say as he shrugs off his backpack and begins to remove the bulky denim jacket he’s wearing, fabric worn and soft from years of use. “Seriously, it’s okay, it’s just a hoodie.”

“Yeah, but now you have coffee all over your clothes and you probably have class soon, right?” He says, an apologetic smile lacing his lips. He tugs off his jacket and holds it out towards you. 

“Jungkook, I’m fine, alright? I appreciate your concern, though,” you assure him. You throw away the last of the coffee-stained napkins in your hands and reach down for your backpack, which you had taken off your shoulders somewhere in the chaos. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, almost as if he was expecting resistance, and leans over you anyway. His arms extend outwards as he wraps his enormous denim jacket over your shoulders, the fabric draping loosely over your body. The damn thing was big on him, so on you it practically eats you up. You stand there, silent, as Jungkook adjusts the jacket on your torso, pulling underneath the hood of your sweatshirt as he makes sure it’s snug across your figure. 

“There,” Jungkook says. 

“Thanks,” you say, a half grin playing on your lips. The gesture makes you wonder if Jungkook really was planning on giving up his jacket this early in the morning for the sake of your movie. “That’s nice of you.”

“I hope it makes up for the fact that you smell like coffee now,” Jungkook says, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. 

“I appreciate it,” you say. 

“I have class, too, so I have to go,” Jungkook says, hoisting his backpack on his shoulders as he tucks his camera away. “I’m sorry again! See you around?”

Like you even have a choice. 

“Yeah, see you around,” you say as Jungkook darts off just as quickly as he arrived, rushing out the door before you have the chance to change your mind and give him his jacket back. 

When he leaves you, you find yourself at a loss for words. You stand there, lips pursed, coffee cold, as the weight of his jacket rests heavy on your shoulders. 

It smells like him. 

You should have known he would do something like this. Spill coffee all over the two of you, offer you his jacket, dash off like Cinderella at midnight. Like the opening of the world’s worst rom-com. The start of what is no doubt going to be the most unbearable final project you have ever done.

Plus, the other thing it’s ensured is a second meeting. How else is he going to get his jacket back?

And you know what the worst part is?

This is only the beginning.

This time after FILM395 ends lecture for the day, it’s your turn to catch Jungkook lounging around after class. 

He’s lingering around the outside of the building, scrolling through his phone, a heavy leather jacket resting over a flannel that goes down to his knees and a baseball cap sitting firmly on his tuft of blonde hair. He’s obviously not paying attention to any of his surroundings whatsoever, because he doesn’t even notice you exiting out of the door he’s standing by until you say his name. 

“Jungkook,” you say, arriving in front of him. 

“Wha—oh, hi,” Jungkook says, jumping at the suddenness of it all. 

“Here,” you say, holding out his oversized denim jacket in between the two of you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to give it back so soon,” Jungkook says, looking a little surprised and… is he touched? 

“I was going to give it to you a couple days ago but I thought I should give it a wash first,” you admit to him. 

Instinctively, Jungkook brings the jacket up to his nose to sniff it. “Smells like lavender.”

“Yeah, it’s my detergent. Hope you don’t mind. It’s a little wrinkled—I let it air dry since I was worried it might shrink in the dryer.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says, a genuine smile lacing itself across his features. It’s not one you see too often, and definitely not the kind of smile he usually flashes in your direction. Those are all so obnoxious, so full of himself. This one’s different. It’s appreciative. Kinder. Softer. In a lot of ways. “I was thinking, if you don’t have class now, do you wanna grab some coffee?”

You narrow your eyes. “Only if you promise not to spill it on me this time.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. “Okay, I got it. I won’t spill it on you.”

“Promise?” You prompt. 

“Promise.”

The walk to Starbucks this time is in relative silence, but neither of you seems to mind it very much. You aren’t dashing to catch up with each other and heaving snarky comments as you catch your breath. Jungkook even notices you shiver in the cool March breeze and wraps his jacket around you again anyway, although this time you make a mental note to make sure he doesn’t leave without it. Even though a lavender scent wafts off of the denim, it still smells a little bit like him. That boyish sort of aroma. You don’t think any detergent would ever be able to get rid of that. 

You and Jungkook both get americanos again because you’re predictable and creatures of habit, and Jungkook actually seems to quite like them. He pays and you don’t spend two minutes standing in front of the barista fighting over it. Jungkook seems so determined to pay the extra four dollars for your drink that you aren’t sure if it’s really worth arguing over it for the sake of pride anymore. What you and Jungkook put into making this project a success is what you’re going to get out of it. 

He picks one of the longer tables in the back of the study space, empty because it’s just after the lunchtime rush and most people have classes now, sets up the camera at one end, and you sit down at the other. 

“So,” you begin, not sure where to start because your coffee is too hot to take a sip from it. 

“So,” Jungkook echoes. 

Silence. 

You purse your lips in that awkward, I-don’t-know-what-to-say kind of way. “What do you want to do?”

Jungkook grins. “This is the part where we get to know each other.” 

“We already know each other.” You frown.

“Do we?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. “I mean, yeah, I guess we aren’t strangers, but I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a film major in a rom-com class who hates rom-coms.”

“I don’t hate rom-coms,” you object. “I just think it’s important to look at them from a critical lens.”

“Okay, whatever,” Jungkook says, shrugging you off. “The point is that we don’t know anything else about each other. Like, what’s your favorite color, for example?”

“Purple.” It’s an easy answer. You wore purple princess dresses when you were five, painted your bedroom lilac when you were ten, and still make sure to keep a purple highlighter in your pencil case now. “What’s yours?”

“Red,” Jungkook responds. 

“Cool,” you say, effectively ending the rest of the conversation.

Jungkook, sensing that same awkward silence, suggests something. “How about you ask me something now? We can go back and forth.”

You shrug. It’s not like you have anything better to do. “Alright.” You think for a moment, but then you have the perfect question. “Why film?”

Jungkook was clearly not expecting something so loaded, because his brows furrow, knitting themselves together as he begins to figure out a good enough answer. “Hmm,” he says, lost deep in thought. “I suppose the standard answer would be that I’ve always been interested in it, but I think I chose film because I want to be able to have the gift to tell other people’s stories. Being a filmmaker doesn’t just mean you stand behind a camera. It means you immerse yourself in the lives of other people to create something new. And… I don’t know. I guess I really like doing that.” 

You nod. 

For once, you understand him. Understand why he chose to major in film, why he chose to be in this tiny little program. Because there is so much out there, so much that you will never know, people you will never meet and things you will never see. And it’s a filmmaker’s job to make them turn into things you will see, people you will meet. Who knows the world better than the people who study it? The people who have devoted their lives to learning all its secrets?

“What about you?”

“Same as you,” you tell him. “Film is an art but it’s more than that to me. It’s a new way to look at the world. It’s several new ways to look at the world, depending on what kind of film you want to create and what kind of story you want to tell. I think it’s important to show people that all of the things they see in the media every day are not always reality. And that real people deserve to have their stories told, too. I don’t know. That’s what I think.”

Jungkook grins, a twinkle in his eyes. “Real people like us?”

“This project is different,” you insist. 

“I don’t think it is,” Jungkook says. “You said it yourself, we’re making this because it’s important to show people that the Hollywood entertainment they consume is not reality. This is. This is reality.”

You frown, kicking yourself in the shin because what was supposed to be a harmless conversation has now turned into an opportunity for Jungkook to try and convince you that you will, in fact, fall in love with him. You’ve dug your own grave and Jungkook was the one who handed you the shovel. 

“You’re not giving up, are you?” You say, shaking your head, flabbergasted. “Reality is the fact that this project is not going to make me fall in love with you. Nothing is.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Jungkook warns. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“You mean like spilling burning hot coffee all over me?” You ask, an eyebrow raised, a grudge still held. 

“We had to start somewhere,” Jungkook defends. “And you seemed to understand what I was doing pretty quickly.”

“It’s not the worst thing someone’s done to me,” you concede, only slightly. “Besides, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but throwing hot coffee all over me is not really a good way to start off your plan to get me to fall in love with you.”

Jungkook smiles. “All in due time, Y/N. All in due time.”

“I can’t believe Pollack actually paired us up together,” you say with a sigh. “You know she did it on purpose.”

“Of course she did.” It’s not really a surprise to either of you. 

“I met with her right after she announced our partners,” you tell him, “she said it was because she wanted to see what kind of project we would come up with. How we would address our… differing views on love.” That’s one way of putting it. A rather nice way, if you do say so yourself.

“Speaking of which,” Jungkook says, something suddenly flashing through his mind, “what do you really think about love? You know, other than it’s unrealistic and ruins people’s lives.”

“You make me sound like Ebeneezer Scrooge.” You frown at him. 

“I’m serious,” insists Jungkook. “Why are you so pessimistic about it? Have you ever been in love? Have you had bad experiences? You couldn’t have just developed this worldview over time.”

You scowl, feeling yourself getting defensive. “Well, maybe I did. Maybe that’s just what I think. Why do you care?”

“Because people don’t just hate love for no reason,” Jungkook exclaims. “Come on, there must be something.”

Your body stiffens. Who is he to be asking you this sort of shit? Why does he care so much? It’s not like it will have any effect on the outcome of your project. Not like you explaining yourself will change the way either of you look at the world. 

“What’s it to you?” You challenge. “Why do you love love so much? Have you ever fallen in love? Do you think it’s suddenly going to solve all of your problems?”

“I love it because I think it brings people real joy,” Jungkook answers simply. “It makes people happy and it’s beautiful. I love love and I’m not ashamed to say that out loud. I believe in it. I believe in love, and in destiny, and in soulmates. I want that. I think everyone deserves it.”

 You scoff to yourself. “You believe in soulmates?”

“I think we all have our people out there.” Jungkook nods. “Don’t you?”

You roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. This conversation has gone nowhere, and Jungkook looks as equally dissatisfied as you do. 

“I think love can make us do stupid things,” you tell him succinctly, if a little jaded. No need to say anything else. Your explanation is right there. “We’re just different, I guess. You and I.”

Jungkook blinks at you, eyes wide and a little desperate. Your conversation has remained stagnant and there’s almost nothing left to say. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever want to fall in love?” He asks, like it’s a last-ditch effort to get you to believe. 

You freeze. Let the words sink in for a moment. Before you push them out the door and toss them into the garbage. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. Puts a sour taste in your mouth. 

Quickly, you push yourself out of your chair and stand up, grabbing your coffee with one hand and your backpack with the other. “I have to go, sorry. I just remembered I’m meeting up with a friend to help her with a photography shoot,” you fumble out quickly, the legs of the chair screeching as you scoot them across the hardwood floor. “Oh, here’s your jacket, too. Thanks for giving it to me again. I’ll see you in class.”

You whip around and head towards the exit, and only when you’re outside of the Starbucks and passing by the window do you dare look back. Do you dare let your gaze drift back to Jungkook, who is sitting there like he still doesn’t understand you. Still can’t. 

You and Jungkook are final project partners and maybe, if you’re pushing it, acquaintances-slash-friends. But there are just some things better kept to yourself. 

We’re reaching the halfway point in this semester and, as you all know, I don’t do midterms. That said, I still want you to reflect on what you’ve learned, discovered, and thought about thus far in this class. What portrayal of love did you find the most realistic? The least? How have they changed the way you think about love, both from a personal and a film perspective?

Y/N Y/N on March 3rd at 6:08PM

Purely from a film perspective, I really did enjoy watching Juno. It was funny and raunchy and just the right amount of vulnerable. It certainly felt the most real. So far, no film in this class has topped it for me. 500 Days of Summer, on the other hand, was in my opinion extremely unsatisfying and left no positive impression. The ending was a bore and Tom had absolutely no spine. It was a shame, because the direction and production was actually quite good. 

I guess I’m starting to realize how real love is not pretty. It can make people just as sad as it can make them happy. Why don’t we show the sad sides of love, too? The sides where your room is covered with a pile of clothes because you can’t bring yourself to do the laundry? Where you cannot cook a meal because it reminds you of a breakup? Rom-coms are, obviously, not the most realistic. But why are there not more films that do cover what’s real? How can we love love if all we know is a lie?

Jeon Jungkook on March 3rd at 11:13PM

Of course, I thought The Big Sick did an excellent job of their portrayal of love, adult life, and the problems that plague us all in the twenty-first century. It was also just as emotional and touched on concepts of race, illness, and being in your twenties and having no idea what direction your life is going in. The Princess Bride, on the other hand, as much as I love it, I do think created a more circumstantial kind of love. Westley and Buttercup mostly fall in love because of their situations. But it remains a classic nonetheless. 

I’m satisfied with the way the film industry has produced rom-coms and handles love. The beauty of it is that love is different for every person who goes through it. It can bring the greatest joy and the most painful sorrow. We do not just figure out what love is by what we see on film. We see it in our real lives, in our parents, in our friends, in couples in coffee shops and cars and on sidewalks. We can love love because we want that joy for ourselves. Because we know that true love will be worth any heartbreak we endure. Is it not impossible for the portrayals of love in these rom-coms to not be real? The way everyone experiences it is different. The only way you can know what real love is, and what it is not, is if you fall in love yourself. 

Early on in your project development, you and Jungkook exchanged class schedules to optimize your productivity and skip over that stupid, terrible part of partner projects where you’re just going back and forth trying to pick a time that works for the both of you until you eventually settle on something ridiculous like eleven o’clock at night outside of the McDonald’s two blocks off of campus. 

It’s been working very well. Neither of you have adventurous-enough friends to invite you out on spontaneous picnics and restaurant dates that fuck with your pre-scheduled meeting times, and Jungkook already seems to have mastered the art of screaming your name when he catches you on the sidewalk so that you can film something. 

In fact, you’re actually beginning to wonder why you haven’t done this with all of your long-term partner projects. Send each other your schedules so that you can settle on a time in advance. No muss, no fuss. 

You and Jungkook are supposed to meet up again tonight, after the two of you are finished with all of your classes, to discuss what scenes you should be filming next. Edited down, you’ve already got about ten minutes worth of footage, but it’s mid-March and the project is due at the end of April. So you need to get this show on the road. 

The door slams shut behind you as you exit the business building, your film industry class having just ended a minute ago. You’ve got an hour to kill before your next class, just enough time to dash to the food court in the center of campus and grab something from the Japanese place in the back corner. You might even have time to browse the shelves in the bookstore if you’re fast enough. 

You round the corner to the main pathway through campus when a voice stops you in your tracks. 

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

It’s not Jungkook. Instead, in the middle of the walkway are the Eighth Notes, one of the fifteen-thousand (you don’t know for sure, but if you had to estimate) acapella groups on campus. They’ve got mic stands and a table set up and everything. Maybe they’re promoting an upcoming show…? 

You almost breeze right by when one of them, the one in the middle of the group, points right at you, a lopsided grin lacing his features. You aren’t one to normally stop in the middle of a crowded footpath, but when, one after another, all six of the boys start pointing at you, you have no choice. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”

“I wanna hold you so much…” 

“At long last, love has arrived…”

“And I thank God I’m alive…”

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

Their voices are smooth like honey, warm and deep, romancing you through their mics as each one of them suddenly manifests a rose from behind them. Around you, people are starting to stare, gawking at you as they walk by. There’s even a small crowd starting to gather, and you swear you can see some people filming on their phones. The fact that this is happening in the busiest ten minutes of the day, as half the student body is walking from one class to another, isn’t helping. At all. 

The rest of them singing in the background, each one steps out from behind the set of microphones to hand you the rose, smiling their classic, old-timey smiles like those old jazz singers from the 1960s, until you’ve got half a dozen in your hands as they continue to sing. 

“But if you feel like I feel…”

“Please let me know that it’s real…”

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

And then, suddenly, all of them are shutting their traps and turning to the left, looking down the pathway as the song begins again, but from one-hundred feet away. 

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”

Your mouth drops. At the other end of the walkway is Jungkook, one of those wireless microphones in his hand, grinning as he saunters down the path like a prince at a ball, voice sweet and thick as the words dance off of his lips. 

“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”

Your eyes lock from opposite ends of the path, Jungkook stepping closer with every beat the Eighth Notes gives him. It sort of feels like your impending doom and a wedding proposal, all at once. By now a rather substantial audience has gathered, lining the walkway with their phones out, filming Jungkook as he waltzes past them, occasionally turning to capture your gobsmacked expression. 

Every step that Jungkook takes makes your heart race something fierce, cheeks warming in embarrassment, trapped in your least favorite thing in the entire world: a public serenade. You can’t really do anything except look at him in shock, feeling his steady gaze resting firmly on your figure, looking right at you. Into you. 

“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”

Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”

Jungkook, on the other hand, is clearly relishing in this. In the spotlight. In the music. Or maybe just in the fact that you’re on the receiving end of his over-the-top advances. His grin is wide as he takes those last few steps, microphone gripped neatly in his hand, the lyrics warm and weighty as they tumble from his lips. 

“And let me love you, baby…”

One final step and he’s right in front of you, staring into your eyes, letting himself bask in the look on your face. He produces a rose himself—cherry red, like his favorite color—and holds it out in between the two of you. In the background, the Eighth Notes go quiet, leaving Jungkook on his own for the final line. 

“Let me love you…”

The words drift above your heads, disappearing into the sky as he lingers on them, on that last note, beaming down at you. He looks at you, so hopeful, so happy, so endeared, and what else can you do? What else, besides taking the rose from his hand and smiling back up at him? Who are you to deny him of that?

The crowd around you cheers when you do, applauding both Jungkook and the Eighth Notes, with whom he is apparently in cahoots, before they all decide that they ought to get on with their day and head to class. No doubt you’ll be on several dozen Instagram stories by nightfall. 

Only after everyone has dispersed do you notice Taehyung, who must have been here since the beginning, because he’s just turning off the camera dangling from his neck. Of course Jungkook got him to film. Other than your project, what else would this be for?

“Is that the best you can do, Jungkook?” You smirk up at him, only saying this because you can’t have him knowing that you actually kind of enjoyed it. 

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Jungkook responds easily. “Thought I would do something spontaneous.”

“And now you’ve taken up ten minutes of my lunch,” you say, shaking your head to yourself. “How spontaneous, indeed.”

“How was that, Jungkook?”

Behind the two of you, the Eighth Notes are packing up, clearly more than happy to have aided Jungkook on his quest for so-called love and getting to promote their group in the process. 

“Great, thank you so much, Jimin,” Jungkook says to the one in the middle, the very first one to sing when you walked out of the door. 

“Anytime, dude. Glad we could help,” Jimin responds. He waves hi to Taehyung, too, as they store their microphones and go on their way. 

Jungkook bids them goodbye as they head down the path, smiling at all of them before he turns back to you, notices the distant, faraway look in your eyes as you twirl the rose between your fingers, press it to your nose to pick up its scent. 

“You gotta admit, I’m a pretty good singer, eh?” Jungkook says with a nudge to your shoulder. 

“You’re alright.”

Jungkook laughs to himself. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get a big head,” you warn. 

“Think I’ll have to sing for you more, now, hmm? Since you liked it so much?” He suggests, eyebrows wiggling. 

You roll your eyes. “Only if you can get Jimin and the Eighth Notes to back you up, again. Then maybe I’ll allow it.”

Jungkook grins. He’s far past the point of being deterred by your deadpan comments. If anything, they only encourage him more. But you, for obvious reasons, cannot give in. At least, not yet, anyway. 

“Okay, go eat your lunch,” he says, nodding as you begin to part ways. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

You smile. “Okay. See you.”

“See you, too.”

The moment you get back to your apartment you put all seven roses in an old vase filled with water. They brighten up your bedroom instantly, soft scent freshening up the air. And when you go to bed that night, it is to Jungkook’s sweet, delicate voice, like walking on clouds, like satin and silk, that you fall asleep.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Jungkook greets like always, smiling at you as you walk in the door for FILM395. 

“Good morning, Jungkook,” you say in response. 

Then, you take a seat right next to him. 

It’s an act that clearly catches everyone off guard, if the bewildered looks of your fellow classmates and Jungkook’s confused expression are anything to go by. Even Pollack, when she walks through the door, gets a bit of a shock, eyes widening when she sees the two of you seated next to each other. 

You suppose all the fuss is understandable. After all, you both sort of hate each other. 

Other than the sudden change in seating arrangement, however, the rest of the class goes off without much issue. Pollack lectures for an hour before you move into discussion, at which point it becomes a class participation free-for-all, with you and Jungkook almost definitely in the lead. Just because you’re now sitting next to each other doesn’t mean either of you are suddenly going to stop raising your hands to rebuke each other’s points. Some things never change. 

Sitting next to Jungkook is not as bad as you thought it would be. For one, he is, for the most part, a rather diligent student. Other than his occasional flicks to his email, an essay he’s working on, or your discussion board, he mostly sits and takes notes and doesn’t do anything else. That, you can at least give him credit for. And even though your elbows almost always nearly crash into each other’s when you’re raising your hands to respond to a point Pollack’s made, discussion isn’t so bad either. 

One of the perks of sitting directly beside each other is that whenever he says something stupid, or saccharine, or just overly unrealistic, you don’t have to just roll your eyes from the back of the classroom while you wait to be called on. You also get to kick his foot with your own, nudge your elbow into his side. And he does the same to you. You and Jungkook are like those neighbors in sitcoms that spend all their free time shouting at each other from opposite windows. Just because your seats have gotten closer doesn’t mean your viewpoints have. 

A notification pops up on your laptop.

[March 17th, 11:05AM]

Jungkook: wanna meet at the tables outside after class?

You look over at Jungkook with a frown.

You: Why are you texting me? We’re sitting right next to each other

Jungkook: because we’re in class obvs Jungkook: dont wanna be disruptive

You: Since when has that ever stopped you before?

Jungkook: haha very funny Jungkook: tables sound good?

You: Only since you asked so nicely :)

Jungkook: thoughtful as always i see

After class, you and Jungkook both hang around, waiting for each other to pack up your belongings so you can walk to the tables together. Everyone else seems to sense this weird, uncomfortable tension in the room, because they all book it out of the door much faster than either of you do. You’re almost convinced Jungkook purposely takes extra time to zip his backpack, just because. 

The tables are, as per usual, empty. But you don’t have a pile of receipts to spread out, this time. You and Jungkook take a seat at one of them as you pull out your laptops, ready to outline the rest of the project. 

“We should probably meet with Taehyung a couple more times, too,” you suggest as you begin to brainstorm. 

“Sounds good,” Jungkook agrees. “But we can’t meet at night on weekdays anymore. My dance group’s show is coming up and we have practice then.”

You stop typing and turn to him. “I didn’t know you were in a dance group.”

Jungkook shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I don’t really talk about it that much.”

“You should.”

He looks up at you at that, eyes wide as he faces you. 

“I don’t know, it seems like something you should be passionate about,” you say. In the same way that you promote the Film Club to every freshman you know, force all your friends to mark that they’re Interested in your event pages on Facebook. Jungkook should want to tell everyone about his dance group. Doesn’t he love it? Isn’t he proud to be in it?

Jungkook doesn’t look like he knows what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything at all. 

“We can meet on weekends too,” you say, adjusting to his new change of schedule easily. “This project isn’t as all-consuming as I thought it would be.”

“You mean I’m not as all-consuming as you thought I would be,” Jungkook corrects. 

You shake your head. “No, you are.” He laughs. “But yeah, on weekends is fine. You know my schedule. What else should we do, besides talk to Taehyung?”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off above Jungkook’s head. “Let’s go on a date.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “No.”

“What do you mean, “no”? It’s the natural progression of our relationship! It’s the next step in the rom-com! We have to,” Jungkook insists. 

“First of all, it’s a mockumentary, not a rom-com,” you say with a sigh, finding yourself having to correct him rather frequently. “Secondly, we are not in a relationship. I am not dating you and you are not dating me.”

“Okay, but at this point in rom-coms the two leads would definitely go on a date,” Jungkook says, punctuating every word for emphasis. “What’s the harm? It’s not like you’re committing yourself to a future with me.”

“Thank God,” you mutter. 

“Oh, shut up. You probably haven’t been on a date in years, anyway. Why not spend a night out?”

You frown at that. “Who cares if I have or have not been on a date?” Why does Jungkook care so much about the history of your love life? He’s always saying stuff like this, always telling you things as if you’ve never been in a relationship at all, don’t know left from right, black from white. Who is he to be making those assumptions?

“Please, Y/N,” Jungkook begs, looking desperate. “Just one evening. And then if it really goes terribly and you end up hating me again, then we don’t have to do another one.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. Well, what else are you going to do? You don’t have any other ideas. And you’ve already spent so much time with Jungkook this semester, what’s another evening? Just something else to cross off of your list of things to film. Maybe you can get him to take a cute photo of you to post on social media. 

“Fine,” you concede. “One date. And I still hate you, by the way.”

Jungkook clearly does not believe you. “Really? You still hate me? I’m sure you do.”

“Okay, I don’t hate you. But still,” you relent again. Perhaps you’re just being oddly soft today. Too lenient for your own good. 

Jungkook grins, cheeks little round circles as his lips curve up. “I know you like me. You just can’t admit it to yourself, can you? Can’t take that blow to your dignity.”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” you chide. 

“Who knows?” Jungkook tacks on, just to be extra annoying. “Maybe you’re actually starting to fall in love with me.”

You scoff. “You wish.”

“Well, are you?”

Jungkook doesn’t ask the question the same way he’s asked all of the other ones. Doesn’t say it with a shit-eating grin on his face or that glint in his eyes. He’s asking because he’s curious. Curious if what he’s been doing has been working. Curious if this project is really accomplishing anything at all. 

Funnily enough, you find yourself wondering the exact same thing.

Silent, you pausing for a moment to think, chewing on the inside of your lip. Jungkook’s looking back at you, lips curled upwards as he waits for a response. Ugh, you’ll just have to give it up. What else can you say? “I guess…” you begin, hesitating. 

You aren’t sure why you’re so scared to respond. Maybe you’re just worried that things will change if you say something. If you tell him the truth. 

But it’s just Jungkook. He’s sitting in front of you patiently, waiting for your answer. What could happen?

You confess. “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”

Even though this is not the first time you’ve ever been out on a “date” (you’re using that word tentatively), picking out what to wear isn’t any easier than the last time. 

“Is black too, you know, sexy?”

Ruby shrugs on the other end of the video call. Her phone is propped up on her desk as she works on something on her laptop, glancing over every now and then whenever you prompt her to respond. “Well, that depends. Do you wanna fuck?”

“No.”

“Then it might be too sexy,” Ruby says easily. “What are you even doing? I thought you didn’t go out on dates.”

“It’s not a date,” you insist, although you’re not exactly sure which of the two of you you’re trying to convince. 

“You’re asking me what kind of sexy dress to wear for a night out with a guy. It’s a date,” Ruby reminds you, economical as always. “Who are you even going out with, anyway? You just called and asked me to pick between two dresses I have literally never seen you wear before.”

“That’s because I don’t go out on dates, which this is not,” you tell her, even expending the energy to stare into the camera to hammer your point home. “And it’s with Jungkook.”

Ruby shuts her laptop at that. You can hear the sound of her keyboard clacking as the lid hits them. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do I need to remind you that this is not a date and therefore, you don’t need to be acting like I just told you I’m getting married.” You frown at her. “It’s just for our movie. Jungkook wants me to dress nicely, though.”

“Wear that nice summer dress you have,” Ruby instructs instead, shooing away the two much sexier options you’re currently holding in your hands. “Just put tights on underneath if you’re cold.”

“This one?” You ask, shuffling through your closet until you produce the gingham dress, plaid a pale yellow that matches gold jewelry rather well. 

“Yes, that one. I like that one,” Ruby says with a nod. “You look good in it.”

“I don’t know, I feel like it’s not appropriate.” You hesitate. It’s a cute dress, sure, but it seems too… casual. Too everyday. Jungkook’s taking you out to dinner, and no doubt he’s got something else planned for the rest of the evening. 

“I mean, you did say you had no plans on fucking him tonight,” Ruby reminds you coarsely. 

“I have no plans on fucking him at all,” you reiterate. “This is not a date. It is for our movie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby brushes you off with a wave of her hand. “Wear whatever you want, but I like your yellow dress the most. It looks really nice on you. And if it’s not a date, then neither you nor Jungkook should care.”

“Ruby—”

“I gotta go. Enjoy your not-date!”

She hangs up. 

You end up wearing the yellow dress. Jungkook knocks on your apartment door just as you’re closing the clasp to your necklace, a gold choker your mother had gifted you for a birthday a couple of years ago. It’s nothing much. You grab a jacket on your way to answer the door, wrapping it around your figure as you twist the knob. 

On the other side is Jungkook, all decked out in black jeans and a clean-cut leather jacket, the black ensemble striking against his warm-toned skin and bleached, blonde hair. You hate to admit it, but he actually does look rather good. For Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hi—whoa,” Jungkook says, doing a little whistle when he sees you, eyes bulging out of their sockets. 

You chuckle. “‘Whoa’ yourself.”

“You, uh…” Jungkook stammers slightly, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. The movement lifts his arm up just enough for you to see the line of his waist, the seamlessness of his body. He’s always been rather fit. “You look nice.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you chide, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind you. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Cleaned up just for you.” He grins. 

You press a hand to your heart dramatically. “I’m touched.” You begin walking down the hallway of your small apartment building, feeling your hands brushing by your sides due to how skinny the corridor is. At least, that’s what you assume. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as Jungkook opens the door to the passenger side of his car for you. 

He winks, that same gleam in his eye. He grins something wicked. “Don’t you remember?” He asks. “It’s a secret.”

The secret turns out to be a small Italian restaurant on an off-road in the center of town, a family joint with those plaid red tablecloths and dark wooden chairs. You’d never heard of the place before tonight, but Jungkook insists that it’s delicious and says it has a four-and-a-half star rating on Yelp, which is obviously gospel when it comes to restaurants. It’s so empty that he even has room to prop up the camera a couple of tables away to get that wide-angle shot of the both of you, two souls in a tiny little restaurant, enjoying a night out on the town. You’re sure that by the time production and post-production rolls around you’ll edit out most of your dialogue, but you like the idea of keeping in snippets of the audio, overlaying the scene with a soft instrumental. 

From a director’s point of view, of course. No other reason to romanticize your night with him. 

It’s nice. Objectively, it’s definitely one of the more exciting things you’ve done in a while, even if it’s just a dinner out in town, away from campus. It’s new. Adventurous. Jungkook convinces you to try his vodka shrimp linguine and you offer up some of your truffle-flavored gnocchi, which he devours happily. One thing you do learn is that no matter how much time passes, no matter how much food is on his plate, Jungkook eats and eats and eats. He never seems to fill up. This is one of those restaurants that pile your bowls high with pasta, give you at least three servings, send you home with to-go packages that will last you for days, and he still somehow manages to eat every last bite. He even has some of your leftovers. 

Jungkook pays because he insists and says that you shouldn’t fight on camera, which you have no choice but to agree to. However, you do look him up on Venmo and send him twenty dollars to cover your half of the bill, because the idea of him paying for you doesn’t sit right with you. It was fine with the coffee, a small token of repayment after spilling it all over you, but dinner just feels like too much. Like he’s carrying most of the weight and you aren’t shouldering enough. Like he’s putting in all of the effort and you are just bandwagoning off of him. 

And partnerships aren’t supposed to be like that. Jungkook isn’t supposed to do all of the work. You aren’t supposed to do nothing. You and Jungkook may not agree on much but you both know that you are equals. That what you put in is what you get out. 

It’s a lesson you think you learned too late, but you won’t make those mistakes again. You’ll get it right this time. 

“That was nice,” Jungkook says after the dinner. You’re walking through the park just across the street now, the sun having set and the streetlamps illuminating your path. The city has strung up lights along the trees, draped them over the branches like stars, like snowflakes. It’s picturesque. 

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks for taking me.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“How did you discover that place?” You ask, just out of curiosity. It’s not exactly the kind of restaurant that would be front and center on Google. 

“I went out on a date in freshman year there,” Jungkook admits, lips pursed awkwardly. “Yeah.”

“Did it at least go well?” You ask, trying to be hopeful. 

“If it did, do you think I’d still be here doing this with you?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. 

You chuckle to yourself. “You don’t mean that. I’m sure you’ll find your person.”

“You actually believe in that stuff now?” Jungkook asks you, skeptical. 

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “You do. I don’t wanna ruin it for you. Your person’s out there somewhere.”

“How do you know I haven’t already found my person?”

You stop in the middle of the path, feet coming to a halt on the pavement. Jungkook looks at you and you look back at him, letting his question sink into your skin, etch itself into your thoughts. He’s asking you because he wants to know. He looks so genuine, so patient, like he’s trying to find an answer somewhere in your eyes but you can’t give him one. 

“Wouldn’t you be able to tell when you did?”

Jungkook sighs. “I don’t know if it always works like that.”

You smile, soft and small. Musing, you say, “well, when you figure it out, let me know.”

“Do you think you’ve found your person?” Jungkook asks you. 

“You know I don’t think about love like that,” you remind him. 

“Well, how do you think about it?”

You gaze up at him once more, that same soft smile playing on your lips. Who is he to be asking you these questions, you wonder to yourself. What would the point be in answering him? It’s better if you just both moved on. Especially since stuff like this has no relevance to your project. 

“I don’t really think about love at all,” you say curtly. 

“I wish you did,” admits Jungkook. 

The look in your eyes is distant. “Yeah.” You wish you did, too.

“How about we do a couple of quick shots, right here?” Jungkook suggests, pulling out the camera. “Just here, the lighting’s nice.” He jogs back a couple of feet, lining himself up with where you stand, kneeling on the pavement with the camera held up to his eye. 

“What do you want me to do?” You call to him, feeling like a fish out of water in front of the lens, thumbs twiddling. 

“Just smile,” Jungkook requests simply. “Say hi to me.”

Sounds easy enough. Under the twinkling lights of the trees, in the haze of their warm yellow glow, you wave to Jungkook, smiling happily. You aren’t exactly sure what the purpose of these shots are, but you suppose you could always use some artistic frames in your movie. Grinning, you keep your eyes trained on him, on the way you can see him smiling back at you even from behind the camera. His eyes are covered, you can’t see those, but you hope they’re smiling too. 

“Okay, my turn,” you say when a little too much time has passed, when it’s just past the point of filming for the sake of a movie and more for the sake of something else. “Get over here.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you idiot.” You scurry over to Jungkook, taking the camera from his hands and pushing in in the general direction of where you were just standing. Situating yourself, you kneel right where Jungkook was, bringing the camera to your eyes. 

Through the lens, you can see the entire width of the pathway, the grass that borders it, the lights decorating the branches of the trees, and Jungkook, front and center. He looks like he has no idea what he’s doing there, waiting awkwardly as he gazes around, eyes drifting everywhere but exactly where you need them: you. He looks good like this, looks much taller, much more romantic. Like a real movie star. Like a model. His clothes make him blend in with the darkness of the night but his eyes are still shimmering, golden flecks twinkling, even from all the way over here. 

You have to admit it. He’s beautiful.

“Smile,” you say, pressing film. 

Jungkook grins your way. 

Afterwards, you give him his camera back and continue walking, turning the corner as you reach the edge of the park, ready to circle around the perimeter.

“How about we hold hands, too?”

“Excuse you?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 

“Come on, just for a second,” Jungkook pleads. “For the artistry. I’ll film us holding hands like all those Los Angeles boys do in YouTube vlogs.”

You look at him suspiciously. Is he sure it’s just for the artistry? “What a great example.”

“Please? Promise I always put hand cream on,” Jungkook asks, bottom lip turned outwards. 

It’s getting harder and harder to say no to him. 

“Fine,” you cave rather easily this time around. “Just for a minute.”

“Excellent.”

Jungkook lifts the camera up to his eye with his right hand as he holds out his left, palm facing the sky as he waits for you to rest your own in his. You narrow your eyes to the camera before your gaze drifts downwards to his open hand, almost like you’re afraid it’s going to jump out and bite at you if you get any closer. But it won’t, because it’s a hand. And it won’t, because it’s just Jungkook. 

The first thing you realize when your fingers intertwine with his is how big his hands are. They are massive. His left one dwarfs your own, wrapping around it securely, enveloping it like a king-sized comforter. The second thing you realize is how soft they are (he must not have been lying about the hand cream). The third thing you realize is the way they send sparks up and down your body, send tingles through your skin, shocks through your veins. You seize up a little bit at the feeling before your body finds it in itself to relax, letting the sensation wash over you like a wave from the ocean. 

It’s new. 

It’s strange. 

You haven’t felt that way in a long time. Felt those sparks, those jolts of energy. Like lightning has struck. 

Jungkook moves so that your hands are held out in front of you, making sure to adjust the lens just so he can get the exact right angle, but all you can focus on is the way your fingers interlock, the way your hand settles into his. 

You wonder what that means. 

The moment Jungkook lowers the camera you pull your hand away, overwhelmed and scared and shocked all at once. Like you’re afraid that if you reach out to him again, your whole body will freeze in place, shake like the wind. 

Jungkook looks at you, concern lacing his features. “You alright?” He asks, genuine and worried. 

You shake your head, willing those thoughts away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You get the shot?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jungkook says. 

“And how do they look?” You ask because you can’t help yourself. Because you just have to know. 

Jungkook pauses, not sure how to respond. He chews on his lips like he’s running through all the possible answers, trying to figure out which one is right. You almost think he’s not going to reply at all, but then he smiles, and he says this: 

“Magical.”

It feels weird for you to be arriving at Kim Taehyung’s door without Jungkook by your side. Doesn’t sit right in your stomach. 

Of course, Taehyung is as hospitable as always, welcoming you inside with his signature warm grin as he sets up the bar stools by the bedsheet, which you assume he will just not take down until your project’s over. Hopefully he’s getting use out of it otherwise, shooting nudes or whatever it is he said he would do. 

“Thanks for having me,” you say, resting your backpack against the foot of his couch as you set up the tripod, arranging it in just the right spot. It’s not Jungkook’s fancy camera that you’ve got with you, just your own from a couple years ago, but it’ll get the job done. You couldn’t ask Jungkook to borrow his, anyway. You’d pass away before he found out you did this. 

“We might not use this footage,” you warn in advance. “I just figured it’s safer to film everything just in case.”

“Why wouldn’t you use it?” Taehyung asks, genuinely curious. 

“Because I don’t know if this conversation will really have a point,” you say nervously, fingers fidgeting with the settings until everything’s just right. 

“I’m sure it’ll be important,” Taehyung assures you. You’re not so confident. “Ready to get started?”

“Yes, everything’s all set up,” you say, concentrating on your breathing as you make your way to the stool. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Why are you so worried?

“So, Y/N, how are you feeling right now?” Taehyung begins. 

You sigh. “Confused.”

“And why is that?”

“I… I don’t really know what direction I’m going in anymore for this project,” you say, letting yourself be candid and honest because it’s just Taehyung, and because you may not even use this footage, and because Jungkook’s not here. He doesn’t know you’ve asked Taehyung to do this for you. He doesn’t need to. 

“And is this because of Jungkook?”

“Yes.” Another easy answer. 

“How are you feeling about him?”

“I’m…” you don’t know where to begin. “I’m not sure. I just know that something’s changed.”

“Your feelings have changed?” Taehyung isn’t reacting, just asking questions in response to your answers and pretending that everything is normal, that this is just another interview. 

“I guess they have,” you admit. Even just saying that feels like a weight off your chest. A small one, five pounds out of a thousand. But it’s a difference. “I… don’t really know how I feel about him anymore.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Taehyung told you he would ask tough questions, but you don’t know if you can answer these anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling yourself growing desperate with impatience. “I don’t feel the same things about him that I used to. He’s different to me now.”

“Do you think he’s changed?”

“Something has.”

“Have you considered the possibility that maybe you’ve changed, too?”

You frown, caught off-guard by his question. No, you haven’t. You haven’t thought about that at all. Why would you? Your stance is the same. Your opinions on love haven’t changed. And neither have your convictions about this project, about the way it will end. 

“No,” you say, nose scrunched up. 

“Well, I’m no expert, but I think there might be something between the two of you that wasn’t there before,” Taehyung says, nodding. “I think that the ways the two of you have changed have brought you together.”

“I don’t know about that…” You trail off. You can feel yourself growing hesitant again, pulling back from saying too much because you’ve never been a very good speaker. Because you’ve always preferred being behind the camera to being in front of it. 

“Don’t you think you should tell him how you feel?”

You scoff. At least that’s got an easy answer. A no-brainer. “No,” you say matter-of-factly, obvious because it is, stern because telling him was never an option anyway. Why else does Taehyung think you’re here without him? “Jungkook said he would get me to fall in love with him and I told him I would never. How could I ever let him think he was actually winning?”

Taehyung sighs.

You haven’t seen Jungkook since your class on Wednesday. Granted, it’s only Saturday, but it feels like it’s been a weirdly long time. Like you’re so used to him barging into your life on the daily that there’s something off about even going three days without seeing him. Maybe it’s just because you’re nearing the beginning of April and your project is finally picking up steam. Between the two of you, you almost definitely have more than two hour’s worth of footage, but the hard part will be paring it down and turning it into a forty-five minute documentary. No doubt you and Jungkook will be spending a lot of time together the week before it’s due. 

Just out of curiosity, you text him. Because you have no idea what he’s been getting up to. 

[March 28th, 1:05PM]

You: Hey, do you think we need to get together sometime this weekend?

Jungkook: i don’t think i can Jungkook: it’s my dance group’s show this weekend

You: Really? You: You didn’t tell me

Jungkook: been too busy

You: What time is your show tonight?

Jungkook: 7pm

You: Sounds good, I’ll be there

Jungkook: oh Jungkook: you don’t have to

You: I want to You: I’ll see you there!

That night, you drop by the grocery store beforehand to pick up a bouquet of flowers. You haven’t been a performing arts show for years now, especially not one where you actually know the people performing, but flowers are customary. Or so you’ve heard. 

You don’t know a single soul who has plans on seeing Jungkook’s dance group either, but the theater is a ten-minute walk away from campus and you’re happy to make the trek alone, especially because you know you’ll find someone you know soon enough. Sometimes it’s nice to walk by yourself, letting the streetlamps above your head illuminate your path, a faceless figure passing by others. It brings peace. And it gives you time to sift through your thoughts, organize them into neat little piles and brush away all of the dust. 

Admittedly, you are not much of a connoisseur of the performing arts. You aren’t even much of a consumer. In another universe, under different circumstances, you wouldn’t blink twice if you heard that one of the dance groups on campus was having their show. But this is not another universe, and these are not different circumstances. 

Jungkook will be there. He is taking something he’s worked tirelessly on and presenting it to the world. Now that you think about it, it’s actually a lot like film. And if Jungkook has devoted so much time, put so much energy into this performance, what kind of person would you be if you didn’t go and watch his creation?

You pick a seat in the far back corner, the venue so cozy that even despite being the furthest away you’ve still got an excellent view, sit down, and wait for it to begin. 

[March 28th, 6:58PM]

Jungkook: hey are you here?

You: I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?

Jungkook: always such a tease

You roll your eyes at that, turning your phone off and stowing it away in your pocket. Two minutes later, the lights dim. 

The moment Jungkook steps out onto the stage, you recognize him instantly. He’s wearing all black again, but it’s not the same skinny jeans and leather jacket he had on when he took you out to dinner. It’s a loose long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, highlighting the blondeness of his hair, the red in his lips. He’s one of at least a dozen people on stage but he’s the only one you focus on, the only one who your eyes follow. Booming throughout the theater is a Drake song, the beat thick and low, but it’s background noise when compared to the way he moves, the way he twists and turns his body on stage, angles sharp and crisp. 

The whole song goes by so quickly that by the time you find it in yourself to blink the stage is already darkening as they move onto the next song, switching out the performers and changing the spotlight colors to a sultry red. Jungkook disappears for this one, vanishing behind the curtains and forcing you to pay attention to the performance as a whole instead of just him. But you have to hand it to his group: they’re excellent. You’ve been missing out. 

Jungkook returns with the next song, having had just enough time to change into an all-white ensemble. He’s easy to spot even with that ridiculous bucket hat on, blonde hair bouncing with every step he takes, every jerk of his body. You can see it all the way from where you sit, see the way he loses himself in the music, lets the rhythm radiate through his blood, lets his heart match the beat that booms through the speakers. This, all of it, the music, the dancing, the energy—it’s all his. It belongs to him. Jungkook may love film but he is passionate about this. It is something that must bring him all the joy in the world. 

The next hour and a half goes by quickly, the songs jumping from one to another to another, Jungkook dashing on and off stage, each time returning in a different getup than the one prior. Makes you wonder just how many clothes he has. But before you know it the final song is playing and every one, every single member is on stage, jumping and cheering and celebrating a job well done. And they should, because they deserve to. 

When the lights in the theater come on, nobody leaves. Instead, everyone rushes towards the stage to say hello to everybody, congratulate them on their performance and take pictures with their friends. That’s why everyone else is here, isn’t it? Because the people they care about performed tonight. 

Isn’t that why you’re here, too?

Jungkook has plenty of other friends already wrapping their arms around him, giving him high-fives and pats on the back, but you’ve got a bouquet of assorted flowers in your hands and you have no plans on bringing them home. So you squeeze your way through the crowd, push yourself in between bodies, and you shout, 

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook looks up instantly at the call of his name, the round shape of his lips curving upwards into a smile when he sees you. 

“Hey, you made it!” He exclaims happily. He’s so pumped on the adrenaline that he pulls you into a hug without either of you even realizing it, wrapping his arms around your torso and squeezing you tight for a few moments before the two of you remember just exactly who you both are. Quickly, you pull away, chuckling awkwardly. Jungkook scratches at the back of his head. “Thanks for, uh—thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” you say happily. “You were amazing.”

“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” Jungkook schmoozes, annoying as always. 

You scoff slightly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Here, I brought this for you. It’s traditional, right?” You hold out the bouquet in front of you, pink plastic wrapping crunched up from where your fingers gripped the stems. 

“Wow, thank you,” Jungkook says, in awe as he takes the flowers from you, pressing his face into the petals instinctively. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Really?” You say, genuinely surprised at his admission. He’s never been given flowers before? Not even for a performance? You didn’t know that, either. “Then I’m glad to be the first.”

“You know you didn’t have to do that,” Jungkook says, though he looks grateful nonetheless. 

You shrug, acting casual. “Aren’t we supposed to be falling in love, or something?”

He grins. 

“Did you guys film this? Maybe we could incorporate it into the movie,” you suggest, thinking it might be interesting to add in glimpses into your normal lives, into the things you do when you aren’t trying to one-up each other. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “We did, but I don’t think we need to add it in.”

“Why not?” It seems like a perfect addition. 

Jungkook pulls out a single flower from the bouquet, a pale yellow daisy, and hands it to you. You smile your thanks, twirling the stem in between your fingers. 

“I don’t know,” he says, looking oddly soft, cheeks turning cherry red. He looks at you and it makes your heart flutter, quickens the drum of your chest. “I just think I’d like to keep this moment to ourselves.”

You suppose he’s got a point. You don’t think you’ll forget this night, either. 

The bouquet you gave him sits on Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom windowsill, bathing in the afternoon sun. Taehyung gave him some plant food the morning after you came to his performance, a little bottle that he can spritz into the water whenever the flowers look a little droopy. Jungkook adds some every day, determined to keep them alive for as long as possible. He also makes sure he’s got a rather heavy book or two, something he can use to press one of them when they’ve all shriveled up. 

It was really nice of you to come to his show, he thinks to himself. Jungkook can’t remember the last time someone outside of his group of close friends went to see him perform, not any of his past dates or even that one girl he was seeing semi-seriously for a couple months last year until she told him she wasn’t interested in him anymore. You’re the first one who’s made the effort, who’s told him that you would come and kept that promise. The flowers are just a happy reminder. 

As a celebration for completing their last show, Jungkook and some of the other juniors in his dance crew decide to go out the following weekend, determined to waste away their Saturday nights at a bar just off of campus where they can take as many shots of as many different types of alcohols as they want. The place even has soju, which makes Jungkook’s heart happy. 

Despite the temptation to drink until his brain is empty, however, Jungkook holds off. He’s got a lot of work tomorrow, most of it consisting of editing the footage you have for the project, and doesn’t really feel like staring at a computer for eight hours straight with a headache. So he limits himself. For the most part. 

“Who was that girl that came to the show?” One of his friends, Andrew, asks as he downs another shot of what is undoubtedly vodka, if the smell is anything to go by. “With the flowers?”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Jesse pipes up, red in the face from the alcohol in his system. He’s always been one to turn into a tomato after drinking. 

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly, shaking his head when the bartender offers him another shot glass full of soju. “No,” he says, forcing a laugh. “Just a friend.”

“I don’t know, you guys looked pretty close to me,” Andrew points out, like it wasn’t already obvious enough that Jungkook is head over heels for you. 

“She and I are working on a film project together,” Jungkook explains, though that does absolutely nothing to convince his friends of your completely platonic relationship. 

“Sounds fun,” Jesse says, swallowing another shot and wincing. “It was nice of her to bring you flowers. My girlfriend didn’t do that.”

“Shut up, your girlfriend is studying abroad in Paris right now,” Andrew says, giving Jesse a good-natured shove. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

“What, please don’t—”

“She’s not my girlfriend, guys,” Jungkook repeats himself, feeling his cheeks heat up the longer the conversation drags on. He chalks it up to the soju in his system and the fact that it feels like a sauna in here. “Seriously, we’re just friends. People can be friends and bring each other flowers.”

Jesse pumps his fist in the air. “Yeah!” He rounds on Andrew. “Where are my flowers, hey Andrew?”

The two of them start bickering as Jungkook laughs, shaking his head fondly. At least he’s not drunk, so he can remember nights like these, ones where he’s drinking with his stupid idiot friends, celebrating a show well done. 

Jungkook stays at the bar until eleven that night before he makes the executive decision to go home and sleep, because as much as he would like to party until three in the morning, he’s got a pile of work that’s telling him to be a real adult. So he bids his friends goodbye and begins to make the trek back to his apartment, passing by the row of frat houses on his way. 

Even though he’s out on the sidewalk, Jungkook can feel the ground rumble from the music, every frat on the block joining together to make some booming, bass monster. From here he can see the flashing blue and purple lights in the windows, see the brothers standing on the steps of each house and turning away whoever they deem unfit to enter. 

In a weird way, it makes Jungkook nostalgic. Reminiscent of when he was a freshman, when he would group up with all of the people in his hall and parade around the frat row on Saturday nights like they owned the place, getting drunk on shitty tequila and jumping until they sweat out their body fluids. He remembers those nights in flashes, bits and pieces that make up his memory of freshman year as a whole. Remembers kissing other girls, other girls kissing him. Remembers the way he would lock lips with them for a second and then forget about it by the next day. 

Jungkook wonders why he ever thought he would meet his soulmate at a frat party. 

He’s just passing the last frat house now, nodding to the guy on the step when they accidentally meet eyes, when he hears you call his name. 

“Jungkook!”

He whips around to see you on the other side of the road, waving at him excitedly while your friends all laugh, sending smiles Jungkook’s way. 

Jungkook isn’t exactly sure what the protocol is for a scenario like this, so he does what he thinks is right and waves back. 

“Come over here!” You shout at him, loosely gesturing for him to join your group. Jungkook is hesitant, not sure if that’s necessarily the best course of action because even from here he can tell that you’re drunk, leaning over to one side and giggling at nothing. But even if he isn’t sure what will happen he can’t help but fall into the way you’re beaming at him, waving excitedly because you saw him on the street and you wanted to say hello.

He’s never been able to resist you. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” He says as he jogs over, greeting the rest of your friends with a patient smile. 

“Went out with my friends,” you say. Jungkook can smell the alcohol on your lips. “And then I saw you, which made me happy!”

You stumble over nothing, shoes skipping as they drag along the pavement, and before any of your friends can react Jungkook is reaching his arms out, catching you before you fall flat on your face. Your hands press against his torso as he lifts you back to your feet, and all Jungkook can do is pray that you can’t hear the way his heart races, beat drumming in his ears. You giggle in his hold, disoriented but not at all uneasy, looking up at him as your eyes sparkle in the glow of the streetlamps. 

“Thanks,” you manage to cough out. 

“Sure,” Jungkook says, breathless. He stands you up and tries to let you go, but you keep your hands tight around his wrists. “I think we need to get you home.”

“Can you come with me?” You ask innocently, eyes wide. 

“Y/N…” One of your friends says, voice hesitant. She places a hand on your shoulder, looking concerned. Jungkook doesn’t take any offense to it, he doesn’t know your friends well and imagines that they would much prefer being the ones to drop you back at your place. 

You shrug her off. “No, it’s okay, Ruby,” you assure your friend, hand inching down Jungkook’s wrist until it rests firmly within his palm. “I’ll go with him.”

Ruby eyes Jungkook suspiciously and her gaze is so intense that it actually makes him doubt his ability to walk you home for a moment. But you seem intent on walking with him, and the sooner you go home the better, so Ruby relents and lifts her hand from your shoulder. “Alright, if you want to.” She keeps her eyes trained on Jungkook. “Text me when you’re back.”

“I will, I will,” you say, brushing her off and waving her away. “Let’s go, Jungkook. I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, come on,” he says. You smile happily at your friends as you say goodbye, cheerful and drunk and tired, all at once, and you begin to walk towards your apartment. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” you tell him, positively filter-less. 

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” Jungkook assures you. “What did you have to drink tonight?”

“Not sure,” you admit happily. “Just a lot.”

“I can tell.” Jungkook nods. “Were you at a frat party?”

“Several,” you correct him. “They weren’t that fun but at least the drinks were free.”

“Why were you at a frat party if you don’t like them?” Jungkook asks you, nose scrunched up. You certainly aren’t the kind of person to hide your distaste for things. That is something that Jungkook is intimately familiar with. 

You shrug. “It’s the cheapest place to get drunk.”

“Why did you want to get drunk?” This is seeming more and more out-of-character for you. Going to a place you despise, taking shots until you can’t walk straight, meandering around campus with Jungkook. All of these are things Jungkook could never in a million years picture you doing out of free will. 

Well, all of them except maybe the last one. You did come to his dance show, after all. 

You sigh. It’s thick and heavy and Jungkook has a feeling you won’t want to divulge any more. “I just wanted to forget.”

But the curiosity is eating at him. 

“Forget what?”

Your grip on his hand tightens. Jungkook fully expects you to dodge the question like you’ve dodged all of the ones prior, say something else to change the topic so you can sweep this discussion under the rug like all of the other ones you’ve had. But you don’t. 

Instead, you say, “You wanna know why I don’t love love the way you do?”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jungkook quickly assures you. 

“I had better options than this place,” you say, voice hollow and empty. “There were better universities that accepted me. Ones with higher-ranked film programs and bigger scholarships. I could have gone to any one of them and been just as happy. Maybe more.”

“But you didn’t,” Jungkook clarifies. 

“My ex-boyfriend goes to school ten minutes away from here,” you say, words that are most certainly news to Jungkook. You had a boyfriend? “He and I dated all throughout high school. I thought I was gonna marry him.”

The words sound so sad. It sounds like they don’t even belong to you. Like you’re recalling the memories of a different person, someone you’ve killed and buried, someone you were certain you would never have to face again. Yourself. Your past self. 

“And then he broke up with me at the beginning of last year and it was too late to transfer out.” Your words are slurred and garbled, like all you want is to get over with saying them in the first place. It’s not a dramatic revelation. It’s not something you’re crying about, sobbing into Jungkook’s chest as you remember, miserable, a time where you were once happy. You just sound lifeless. 

Jungkook blinks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. It doesn’t feel right for him to speak up. Not when you’ve just revealed to him something so personal, so drunk that you probably won’t even remember saying anything when you wake up tomorrow morning. 

What is he supposed to do with this knowledge? What is he supposed to say? To do? It’s not like Jungkook can change your past. It’s not even as if he can change the near future. Your project is almost finished—the semester is almost over. And then you will return to the time where you never even knew each other. 

“You can say something,” you tell him.

“What do you want me to say?” Jungkook says. 

“Something to make me feel better, because now I’m sad,” you request simply. “Seeing you made me happy.”

“Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and smile, then,” he muses to himself. 

“No, please keep talking,” you plead, leaning into his body with your bottom lip puffed out, eyes big and round and desperate. “Listening to you gets me to stop thinking about this stuff.”

Hearing that, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to mind. And that is, “You don’t have to think about that stuff anymore at all.”

“Hmm?” You murmur into his chest. Jungkook sees your apartment building up ahead. Just another block or so. 

“Well, that was your old love story,” he begins tentatively. Jungkook’s almost fully sober by now but he feels like he won’t ever get another opportunity to say this, and maybe whatever soju is left in his system is enough to get him through this conversation. Enough for him to muster up the confidence to tell you what he’s been wanting to tell you for a while now. 

Even if you forget it by tomorrow. He knows this is his only chance. 

“And it didn’t have a happy ending, but that’s okay. Because ours will.” 

You’re just coming up to your apartment complex, the rusted gold doors of the entrance sticking out against the beige of the building and the sidewalk, shimmering in the light of the streetlamps. You pause right outside, taking cover underneath the red awning above your heads. Looking up at him, you blink expectantly. 

“How do I know you mean that?” You ask. 

He almost does it. 

Jungkook doesn’t really know what washes over him in that moment, what takes his heart and mind prisoner for a split second, grip tight and unforgiving. But he’s staring straight into your watery eyes, glossy and glimmery and glowing, lost in the way you press your lips together, the way you gaze up at him and wait for him to tell you what he’s always wanted to say, and he almost does it. His hands press at your sides, holding you close, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go you’ll vanish without another trace and this night will all have been for naught. 

But he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t for a lot of reasons. You’re drunk. When you wake up tomorrow, you will not remember this conversation. But Jungkook will. And if he does it, if he kisses you, if he presses his lips to yours it will be burned into his thoughts, carved into his heart, and you will be none the wiser. Jungkook can’t do that to himself. And he can’t do that to you, either. He will never take advantage of your company. He never has.

“Because,” Jungkook says instead, having hesitated for far too long. “I promise you.”

It’s good enough for him. 

He tucks you into bed at 12:17AM that night, feet padding along your hardwood floor so he doesn’t wake up your neighbors, guiding you to your bedroom and reminding you to text Ruby that you made it home safely. Jungkook’s never gotten a very good look at your place, and even now it’s hard to make out most things without the main ceiling lights on, but he doesn’t really want to snoop. Even though you invited him in, he still feels like he’s intruding. You’ve always been so private. There were a lot of things said tonight that Jungkook is going to have to reckon with. 

Once you’re curled up beneath your sheets, eyes drooping, Jungkooks turns off the light on your nightstand and nearly, just about nearly, presses his lips to your forehead. He manages to avoid doing that, too. 

Instead, he pulls up your duvet and heads towards the main room, making a beeline for your front door. But before he can leave the room, he hears you mumble out his name. 

“Jungkook?” You call, voice groggy. 

“Yeah?” He looks back at you from where he stands in your door frame, one hand on the knob, ready to pull it closed. 

You smile, eyes fluttering. “Thank you,” you say. 

Jungkook grins. 

The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and three missed calls from Ruby, which undoubtedly means that something positively terrible happened last night. Unfortunately, you have no idea what happened at all last night, good or terrible, so whatever Ruby has to say will be news to you. 

Rubbing your eyes as you wrack your brain in the hopes of figuring out how you even ended up back at your apartment (when you swear you told Ruby you would stay at hers), you press on Ruby’s contact and call her. 

“Y/N? Hello? Are you there?” Ruby answers on the first ring. 

“I’m here,” you mumble out, words jumped and barely intelligible. You wince as your eyes adjust to the harsh blue light of your phone screen, squinting as you look at the time. 

Shit, it’s 11:43AM and you’re meeting Jungkook for coffee at noon. 

“Good, I called you three times last night after you texted,” Ruby wastes no time diving into her interrogation. 

“Why?” You ask, scrambling out of bed with your phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. Your head throbs so you quickly take some Ibuprofen, splash your face with water, and start looking for something clean you can put on. 

“Because texting me ‘home’ is not enough!” Ruby exclaims. “Jungkook walked you home last night, I wanted to make sure you were tucked in bed and feeling alright.”

You frown. You don’t remember that. Granted, you don’t remember a lot of things, but you can’t recall Jungkook walking you back. You saw him last night? You didn’t even know. Scratching your head, a part of you vaguely pictures him standing in your apartment in the dark, resting against the door frame to your bedroom in the warm yellow light of the lamp on your nightstand. Can just barely see him tucking you into bed, placing the sheets over your figure and making you text Ruby that you’re home. You thought you were just imagining it at the time, but it must have happened anyway. 

“Jungkook walked me home?”

“Yeah, you insisted,” Ruby says. “You probably don’t remember, though.”

“No,” you say dumbly. 

“Well, I appreciate you texting me that you were home but I would have preferred something more explanatory,” scolds Ruby. “I thought maybe Jungkook was gonna do something.”

“Oh my goodness, no,” you immediately interject, pulling on your shoes and stuffing your laptop into your backpack. Just the thought of Jungkook doing something like that sends your stomach for a whirl. “He would never do that. I trust him.”

“I mean, I see that now,” Ruby points out. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Everything’s good.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Ruby says, still sounding a bit like an overprotective mother. You love her, though. You know she just wants the best for you. “Take it easy today, okay? You had a lot to drink last night.”

“I will,” you assure her. “I’m just on my way to meet up with Jungkook now. Getting coffee.”

“Make sure to eat, too,” Ruby reminds you. “And tell Jungkook that I said thanks for walking you home.”

“Anything else, Mom?”

You can practically see Ruby frowning on the other end. “Oh, shut up. I’ll see you, okay?”

She bids you goodbye just as you’re dashing out the door, your usual stride quickening so you make it to the cafe in time, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting. You make it there in a record five minutes, pulling open the door frantically just as the clock strikes noon. 

Jungkook’s already there, of course, sitting by a little round table in the corner of the room with two americanos on the table. He waves when he sees you standing by the entrance, and the mere sight of him makes you smile, shoulders relaxing. 

“Hey,” you greet, a little out of breath as you settle into the chair across from him. 

“Hey,” Jungkook says back. “How are you feeling?”

“My head is killing me, but other than that I’m alright,” you admit, taking a sip of the drink. It’s piping hot but just the right amount of scalding, warming your insides after a night of filling them with pure poison. 

“Good.” He grins. “It’s nice to see your face.”

“Oh, yeah, speaking of which,” you say while still on the topic, “did you walk me home last night? I can’t remember.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, I bumped into you and your friends while I was on my way back from a bar.”

You wince. The fact that you don’t even remember that happening tells you enough. “I was super drunk, wasn’t I?”

Jungkook, nice as always, says, “I’ve seen worse.” It only makes you feel the slightest bit better. 

“Hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing,” you say, knowing you have a tendency to lose your filter almost entirely when you get wasted, letting any sort of mental reasoning fly out the door the moment you down another shot. And the thought of having told Jungkook something deeply humiliating or personal, or even him witnessing something stupid, makes you feel weirdly exposed. 

Jungkook freezes for a split second, almost like he’s buffering, like he’s about to say something but it’s just taking him an extra step to get the words out of his mouth. Then he takes a quick sip of his americano and shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. You were just very drunk. And clingy.”

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you apologize. You can’t imagine the hell you must have put Jungkook through last night. 

Jungkook laughs. “It’s okay. I’m glad we got you home safe.”

“Me, too.” You nod. You send a grateful smile his way. “Thanks for walking me, by the way. I really appreciate it. Ruby says thanks, too.”

“Anytime,” Jungkook says. It doesn’t sound like something that people say just to say it. The way that people say ‘anytime’ just so they can be friendly and amicable. He says it and he means it, says it genuinely and honestly, like it’s a real promise that he’s making. That he would be happy to walk you home again. No matter the hour. No matter how drunk you are. No matter what he’s doing. 

And that means a lot to you. 

“We should probably wrap up filming soon, huh?” You say, getting onto the topic at hand. Of course, the project is the whole reason you’re even talking to each other in the first place. “It’s due in three weeks.”

“Yeah, I was thinking of another outing? And maybe one more thing with Taehyung?” Jungkook suggests. 

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “‘Another outing’, Jungkook? What exactly do you have in mind?”

He grins. 

This time, Jungkook is the one with the flowers. 

When you open your front door they’re the first thing you see, an enormous bouquet of an assortment of spring flowers in a variety of colors—pinks and purples and oranges and yellows—gripped neatly in Jungkook’s hand. They stick out against his otherwise rather formal attire, a simple black dress shirt and jeans, nice shoes that compliment his figure. Black truly is the world’s most slimming color, and Jungkook is no exception. He looks good. 

“For you, m’lady,” Jungkook says dramatically as he holds out the bouquet in front of him.

“How thoughtful of you,” you muse to yourself, grinning. You take the flowers and press your whole face into them, breathing in the fresh scent. “The one I gave you wasn’t nearly this big.”

“Go big or go home,” Jungkook teases. “You look nice, by the way.”

“You always sound so surprised when you say that,” you comment snidely, shaking your head as you grab your bag from the shelf next to your door. “What are we doing tonight, Jeon? Gonna keep it a secret from me like last time?”

“That depends,” Jungkook says knowingly. “Do you like secrets?”

“You should know what I like by now,” you remark. 

“Then prepare to be wowed.” He grins, taking your hand in his as he pulls you out the door. 

The restaurant you go to this time does not require a ten minute drive to the center of town. Instead, it’s a five minute walk from campus and actually happens to be a place you’ve been to before. It’s a busy little thing on a Friday night, waiters bustling about with trays in their hands, people laughing and smiling under the dim light of the chandeliers. You’ve only been here once, long ago, for a club dinner paid for by the finance chair, and for good reason. It’s not the kind of place cheap college students looking to get the most food for the least amount of money go to. 

“Isn’t this a bit out of budget for our rom-com?” You ask as the host seats you at your table, a little booth in the middle of the restaurant, lanterns resting on the corners of the seats. 

“I thought this was a mockumentary,” Jungkook jokes. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, resisting the smile that fights its way across your face. Trust you to make that sort of blunder in front of him. “I mean it, though. This place is expensive.”

“It’s manageable,” Jungkook promises. “I’ve been saving up. Plus, I thought you deserved a nice night out.”

“How generous of you.”

“Oh, come on, I know you’re excited,” he narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t have to act like a stone-cold robot anymore.”

“Well…” you suppose enough is enough. Jungkook can see right through you anyway, so there’s no point in keeping up this indifferent facade of yours. “Only because you’re treating me so nicely.”

“Just please don’t order the steak,” he requests simply. 

You laugh. “No problem. Maybe we could just share a couple of appetizers?”

Jungkook likes the sound of that. 

Luckily, this is not one of those restaurants where the appetizers cost an arm and a leg and are the size of your pinky finger. You and Jungkook split three different ones, happy to scoop out portions for each of you and indulge in them together. 

Dinner dates—of which this is only sort of one—are always awkward because you spend half of the time shoving food into your mouth, but you and Jungkook don’t seem to mind the silence at all. Only, Jungkook does look sort of like he’s holding back.

“Is this enough food for you?” You ask him halfway through, distantly remembering how he absolutely devoured a whole plate of pasta last time and still having enough room in his stomach to finish yours. 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of vegetables. 

“You ate so much at the Italian place, I just want to make sure you aren’t still hungry,” you point out. 

“Oh.” Jungkook pauses, swallowing down the bite in his mouth. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should say anything else. But what the hell, right? It’s Jungkook. It’s Jungkook and he walked you home when you were drunk, he gave you flowers, he let you borrow his jacket. And you feel as though you must return the favor. “Anytime.”

He smiles. 

Despite the pure ecstasy you both experience when eating delicious food, Jungkook makes sure not to waste this time and grabs a few frames of you eating with his camera. He always seems to have that with him whenever he’s with you, hanging around his neck or stuffed into his backpack or crammed into his pants pocket. Sort of makes you wonder just how much footage the two of you have of each other. 

He insists on paying but you send him some money anyway, just because letting him shoulder the burden of a place as expensive (for college students, at least) as this just doesn’t sit right with you. Whenever he receives the Venmo notification on his phone, Jungkook frowns and says that he’ll send that money back to you, but he never does and you can tell that he really does appreciate it. 

You don’t think you have any plans on stopping that for a while. 

The only downside of going to this restaurant is that there is no gorgeous, light-strung park in the vicinity the two of you can wander around. Just your campus, which you have no doubt walked a thousand times over, and the streets surrounding it, which you have memorized like the back of your hand. 

It almost makes you think that Jungkook is just going to drop you back off at your place and the night will end there, but you know better than to expect something like that from Jungkook. Instead, as you’re walking, you point out the cafe that you and Ruby always go to, see that it’s closing in half-an-hour, and Jungkook decides then and there that it’s your next destination. 

“You’ve never been here before?” You ask when you walk inside, eyes immediately drifting to the display of pastries beside the register. 

“I’m not normally on this side of campus,” Jungkook admits. “You’re the only reason I’m ever here.”

“Then hopefully after finding this place, you’ll have two reasons,” you say cheerfully. The baristas behind the counter know you on a first-name basis, are happy to help you out even though they’ve no doubt been working long hours and are ready to close up shop and go home. 

You split a tiramisu and sit at that same corner table you and Ruby always pick, empty now that it’s so late at night. Other than the employees, you and Jungkook are the only ones in here, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, filled to the brim with people, the smell of cooked food wafting through the air. 

 The tiramisu isn't as fresh as it would be bright and early in the morning, but you suppose that that just means you and Jungkook will have to come back. Besides, Jungkook obviously does not seem to mind, scarfing it down ruthlessly. You’re in and out just as they close up shop, the employees bidding you goodbye like old friends, sending you on your way. There’s not really much else either of you have planned for tonight, and Jungkook isn’t coming up with any new ideas as he checks his phone. Instead, you just begin to head back to your apartment, all wrapped up in each other. You place your hand in his own and feel yourself relax when he squeezes, a silent little reminder that he’s still here, and that so are you.

Funnily enough, holding hands feels natural to you at this point. 

“Tonight was fun,” you comment, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah, glad we could do this,” Jungkook agrees. “Makes me kind of sad to know that this thing is almost over.”

“What, the project?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Yeah. And the class. And the semester. It’s kind of scary. We’ll be seniors next year.”

You chuckle. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I still have no idea what I’m going to do after we graduate.”

“You don’t have to know everything,” Jungkook reassures you. “As long as you’re happy with what you have now.”

“Are you?” You inquire, looking up to meet his eyes. 

Jungkook beams down at you. “I am.”

The walk from the cafe to your apartment is short, just under five minutes, but it feels like it takes you an hour, footsteps slow and languid, like neither of you want the night to end. You hit every red light, round every corner, drawing out the evening for as long as you can. Unfortunately, there is only so much you can do on a five-minute walk, and before you know it, you’re home.

“This is me,” you say, stopping outside the gold doors of your apartment complex. “Thanks again for tonight.”

“Anytime,” Jungkook says, a common thread in your conversations. 

“Really?” You ask, skeptical. “Our project’s almost over.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to stop doing this,” Jungkook says. 

You narrow your eyes. “What are you implying, huh, Jungkook?”

“This.”

Before you know it, he’s wrapping one hand around your waist and pulling you in close to him, your palms splayed out against his broad, toned chest, pressing his lips to yours. You gasp a little into the feeling, somewhat shocked he would dare be so bold even after all this time, but find yourself sinking into the touch. He tastes like coffee and cream, like peppermint from his chapstick, like the wine you shared tonight. You cave into the way he holds you, hands wrapped around your body, palms pressed firmly against your figure. He holds you like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re real and here and that you are kissing him back, like he’ll forget once the moment ends. 

But he need not worry about that. 

When you part, you don’t even bother wiping off the stupid smile on your face, kiss-drunk and filled with glee. It’s been a long time since you felt this way. And Jungkook makes you feel things you don’t even think you can explain. 

“How bold of you,” you comment, noses touching, barely an inch away from each other. 

“I figured I’d shoot my shot,” Jungkook says. He shrugs, pretending to be casual, but you can see the way he’s grinning, beaming, down at you. 

“You scored,” you remind him.

“How observant of you,” teases Jungkook in return. You pout a little at his playful mockery, heart fond. “Think we can do it again?”

“Hmm, I would tone down the ego first,” you say, already leaning back in to press your lips against his. 

“Never.” He smiles wickedly. 

It’s a quicker kiss this time, a short peck against his cherry red mouth, but it still makes your heart beat something terribly fierce. 

“See you soon?” You ask when you finally pull away, knowing that as much as you’d like to, you can’t just stand out here kissing each other forever. 

Jungkook nods, cheeks pink and warm to the touch. He looks so sleek in his formal black outfit, crisp button-down and slacks, hair all styled, but the way he’s grinning at you makes him look so young, so sublimely happy. It’s nice. 

“Anytime.”

“There’s my favorite couple!” Taehyung greets excitedly when he swings open the door to his apartment to reveal you and Jungkook standing on the other side. 

“What’s it to you?” You comment snidely as he lets you inside, the black sheet still taped up along his wall. It looks a little more wrinkled than when you last saw it. 

“Oh, nothing,” Taehyung singsongs. He definitely knows a lot more than he cares to tell either you or Jungkook, but whatever. The project’s almost over and he’s almost finished with university entirely. “You guys are just cute together, that’s all.”

“Like you even know the half of it.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes. 

Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows. “Ooh, do tell.” He grins that greasy, comic-book-villain grin of his as he starts moving his bar stools back to where the sheet lines his cream-colored wall. 

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” Jungkook poses, making you laugh from where you’re seated on the couch, watching Jungkook set up his tripod in exactly the place he wants it. You smile at him as you recline against Taehyung’s poor old leather couch, so worn-down from use that the back cushions fold in when you press against them, and Jungkook peers out from behind the camera to blow you a kiss. 

You send him one back without even needing to think. 

Taehyung misses the whole scene, but no doubt he’ll be putting two and two together pretty soon. You and Jungkook agreed that for the last interview you would be questioned together, long before Jungkook actually managed to romance you off your feet, and there’s not a doubt in your mind that the two of you being interviewed side-by-side will make things much more interesting. 

Nevertheless, Jungkook sets up the camera and sends a thumbs-up your way when he’s ready, Taehyung sitting on the bar stool just outside of the frame with a couple of index cards in his hand. 

“Let’s do this,” you say, hauling yourself onto the seat. Jungkook does the same shortly after, scooching onto the one next to you as you stare at Taehyung, waiting for him to start. 

“Looking forward to this one?” Taehyung asks knowingly. 

You shrug nonchalantly. “Just a little.”

“Excellent. Shall we begin?”

You and Jungkook nod. 

“Alright. Well, this is presumably the last thing the two of you will be filming for your project. How are you feeling about it?”

“It turned out better than I thought it would,” you admit. It will come as a shock to no one that you did not have very high hopes for this project when it was first assigned. 

“Of course it did, I’m your partner,” Jungkook teases, poking you in your side. “Would you ever doubt me?”

“Always,” you say.

Taehyung chuckles. “Sounds like it’s been good so far. Did you enjoy filming it?”

You nod. “Yeah, it was actually kind of fun. Except for when Jungkook spilled coffee all over me, that was not cool.” You turn to face Jungkook directly, and all he does when you say his name is wink and point at you. 

“It was for the rom-com, I don’t know what you expected,” Jungkook said. “I gave you my jacket, too.”

“How gentlemanly.”

Taehyung chuckles, warm and low. “I’m sure Jungkook learned his lesson,” he muses. “What was your favorite thing to film?”

Not when I randomly texted you five minutes before I showed up at your door to make you ask me questions about how I feel, you think to yourself. Jungkook still doesn’t know, but you think you’ll put it into the movie just for the hell of it, so he’ll find out then. Find out that you were grappling with your feelings for him long before you ever let on.

“The serenade was a blast, a special shoutout to the Eighth Notes for doing that for me,” Jungkook says immediately. Obviously that is at the top of his list. “Plus, I just like seeing Y/N all flustered.”

“Shut up, you’re so annoying,” you chide. “I guess the serenade was kind of cute. I liked going out together, though. On our not-date.”

Jungkook objects to that instantly. “It was a date, Y/N!”

You look back at him, equally as scandalized as he. “Whose turn is it to talk?”

“Mine, actually,” Taehyung interjects. “Did you like going out together?”

You sigh a little, wondering if you’re really about to turn into a softie in front of a camera for a movie to be shown to your twenty classmates and professor. “Yeah,” you say, real and true because that’s what you agreed on, you and Jungkook. To be candid. To be honest. To say how you felt. Really. “It was really nice. I hadn’t gone out with someone like that in a long time.”

“And were you happy because of the project, or because of Jungkook?”

“Well,” you begin, not exactly sure where to start. “I guess, it’s like… you know, I didn’t even know Jungkook before this project. I mean, I knew who he was, he would always respond to my discussion board posts and object to everything I said in class. But I didn’t know him as a person. But as we worked on this project together, planning and filming and editing, I started to. And we did so many things together. And I guess I just really enjoyed the time we did spend as a pair.”

“Would you say the same, Jungkook?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says easily. “That’s what I wanted. To get to know Y/N, to spend time with her. I was glad we had this project. Otherwise, we might never have done something like this.”

“You both seem very happy.”

“I think we are. This project was actually sort of a blessing in disguise. I know him a lot better, now,” you say. “I’m glad that I do. He makes me smile, and laugh, and I always feel happy when he’s around. I don’t know. He did it, somehow.”

“Jungkook?”

“It wasn’t just me. Y/N and I did this together. We made this. This project. Us. It wasn’t just her, or just me. It’s ours.” Jungkook grins.

“Are you glad you did this project?”

Of course. It was fun, and I liked filming it, and I feel like I got something really important out of it. I know it’s just a short rom-com mockumentary, but it really feels like there was a happy ending, you know? A happily ever after.”

“You seem really certain about that.”

“Well,” Jungkook says with a little scoff, “what else would you call it?”

“As you can see, obviously Y/N fell head over heels in love with me thanks to this wonderful project—”

“Why are you always so full of yourself—?”

“Hey, you’re ruining the voiceover! As I said, as you can see, Y/N fell head over heels in love with me, but that wasn’t just because of my dashing good looks and amazing singing skills.”

“The ends of your hair look like hay—”

“It was because we were honest with each other, and because we spent meaningful moments together, and because we kept our hearts open. And I guess that’s the truth of it all, isn’t it? Love, romance, relationships? If you close yourself off, you’ll never get to experience them. But if you take every opportunity with an open mind, then you never know what might happen. Like falling in love with your discussion board nemesis.”

“Who, me?”

“Just let me finish, come on. There’s like one paragraph left. I know this was a mockumentary, not a scripted rom-com with professional actors and screenwriters and a whole team of editors. But that was the whole point. To make it real. And to make it between two people who aren’t just characters on a screen. We’re real people, and this happened to us. And it makes us happy. And it can happen to you, too. I think we all learn something every time we watch a new movie. Whether it be about loss, or promises, or other people. This time, we learned about love. Real love. How it can be rocky and strange and come straight out of left field. But also how happy endings aren’t just for movies and fairytales. We all deserve them. And Y/N and I found our own.”

“Are you gonna say it?”

“And so… they lived happily ever after.”

You look up at the screen, expecting to see the credits roll, but instead it’s a shot of the two of you kissing outside of your apartment building, a shot of you wrapping your arms around him as you press your lips to his. It lasts for only a few seconds, but you find yourself entranced in the moment, shocked that Jungkook somehow managed to capture it on film. He didn’t even have his camera with him that night. 

Pollack turns on the lights in your classroom as your fellow classmates applaud, all of them looking genuinely pleased that your rom-com had such a wonderful ending. Pollack herself looks rather proud, nodding to herself as she smiles at the two of you. 

“You filmed us kissing?” You hiss to Jungkook as your classmates clap, hoping the sound of it will drown out your conversation. 

“I got Taehyung to,” Jungkook whispers back. “Why?”

“I just… I thought that night was just for us.”

“The rest of it is. But I thought the kiss would be a cute way to end it. You know, happy ending and everything.”

Alright, if Jungkook insists. You nod, tensing up slightly. You hadn’t even noticed Taehyung down the street, standing behind some utility pole with the camera raised to his eye. Had Jungkook texted him in secret? Asked him to meet you outside of your apartment? Was he planning on kissing you from the very beginning?

You shake your head, willing away the thoughts as Pollack commends the two of you for a job well done. Jungkook and you stand at the front of the room for a few more seconds, getting stared down by your fellow classmates while Pollack speaks. The period ends just as she finishes up, the minutes changing the moment she closes her mouth. Within a minute or so, the whole class has emptied out, some of them congratulating you and Jungkook on the way out. 

“I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Jungkook says, eyes bright and filled with that same wonder he’s always got. 

“Yeah,” you say distantly, nodding to him as he disappears out the door. 

“You did an excellent job, Y/N,” Pollack praises, and it goes right to your head, if you’re being honest. “It was brilliant.”

“Thanks,” you say, suddenly rather shy. “That means a lot.”

“Don’t tell anyone else this,” she says, voice quiet, “but I was secretly hoping the two of you would fall in love.”

“Pollack!”

She laughs. “What? I thought you’d make a cute couple. And you do, so clearly it all worked out anyway.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s against the code of conduct,” you say, even though you know you can’t be too mad at her. After all, you wouldn’t have Jungkook if it weren’t for her. 

“Y/N, I’m tenured. I don’t care.”

“Wait…” you pause, eyes narrowing, “how many of your students have you set up with each other?”

Pollack grins. “I never reveal my secrets.”

Your mouth drops open. 

She chuckles, shooing you out the door. “Go on, go be with your boyfriend. You can tell him you both get A pluses for your project. It was excellent. One of the best I’ve seen in a very long time.”

“Thanks, Pollack,” you say, smiling gratefully. “You’re the best.”

She points at you proudly as you head out the door. “So are you.”

Jungkook is waiting by the tables where you always sit, half a flight down from your classroom. He’s leaning against the edge of them as he scrolls mindlessly through his phone, so engrossed in the Instagram explore page that he doesn’t see you walk up. 

“Guess what,” you say, getting all up in his face, just because you can. 

“What,” Jungkook says, an eyebrow raised. 

“We got an A plus on our project!” You exclaim happily, cheering. Jungkook laughs at your exuberant reaction, watches as you jump around, clapping loudly. 

“Hell yeah, we did that!” Jungkook holds his hand up for a high five, one you gladly take. Your palms smack together and the sound reverberates around the hallway. 

“You know, you and I—” you begin, placing your palms on his cheeks as you pull yourself in for a kiss, “we make a pretty good team.”

“Only because you’re so good at editing,” Jungkook says. You’re both not too bad, if you do say so yourself, but since Jungkook did so much of the filming you thought it would be better if you carried more of the weight when it came to post-production. 

“Says you,” you tease, pressing your lips to his button nose. “The happy ending thing was a nice touch, I liked it. Makes me feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”

“I’m glad,” Jungkook says with a chuckle, admiring the way you beam at him. “You know, I was really worried that you might think we didn’t have a happy ending after all, especially after everything.”

“What do you mean?” You look at him curiously. 

“Well, I just really wanted to make sure that we had a happy ending, because you’ve been through so much.”

You pause in place, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. Been through so much? Does Jungkook know something you don’t? Wait, no, did you… did you tell him—?

“You knew?” You ask, the realization piercing you like an arrow. “All this time, and you never said anything?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. 

“How long have you known?”

He winces. “Since I walked you home when you were drunk. You told me.”

You did?

Shit.

“And you didn’t think that maybe you should have told me that you knew? Especially when I asked you if I had said anything embarrassing?” You cry out, indignant. “What, were you just planning on never telling me?”

“I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to know that you had admitted all those things to me,” Jungkook admits, growing desperate. “They were really personal things, I thought you might react badly.”

“Oh, so you just decided to keep it a secret instead? Look how well that worked out.”

“What was I supposed to do, Y/N? I know you would have been upset.”

“Tell me!” You exclaim. “I asked you if I had said something embarrassing that night and you said I hadn’t. And I believed you. Better to have known then than now!”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t just tell me. Didn’t we say we would be honest with each other? But instead, you just let me assume that all of the nice things you did for me were because you actually cared, and not because you felt bad for me?”

“I don’t feel bad for you!” Jungkook shouts. “I mean, I do, but that’s not why I took you out on dates and gave you flowers and held your hand. I do care about you.”

“Oh, so filming us kissing was just because you actually cared, too, right?”

“I don’t know why you’re so hung up about that,” Jungkook points out. 

“Because I thought it was a private moment,” you remind him. “You hadn’t filmed anything the whole night. I thought we were just going out on a date like two people who cared about each other did. Us kissing was personal. But you texted Taehyung and told him to show up with his camera anyway, right? Because you were planning on kissing me from the very beginning. Because you knew, Jungkook. You knew and you had absolutely no intention of telling me.”

“Y/N, wait, I didn’t do those things just because I pitied you,” Jungkook says, reaching out for your hand. 

You pull away. “You didn’t? Then why did you film us kissing, then?”

“Because…” he flounders. You aren’t at all surprised. “Because—”

“Enough, Jungkook. I get it,” you stop him, shaking your head. “Everything we’ve done since that first date we had, when we went to the Italian place, everything since then—it was all played up. Because you felt bad for me. I had a shitty experience with love and you wanted to make me feel better. Whatever.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t like that,” Jungkook chases after you as you begin to walk down the stairs, towards the exit. “I didn’t pity you. I still don’t. I did those things because I care about you, and I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, you got what you wanted,” you say, arms crossed over your shoulders as you push your way out the door. “I was so happy when I was with you.”

“Wait, Y/N—”

“Bye, Jungkook.”

The door slams shut behind you. 

“How many finals do you still have left? You finished your movie, right?”

Ruby is stirring herself a cup of earl grey tea as she sits down on the couch next to you, where you’re very obviously sulking as you scroll through the Feel Good Rom-Coms category on Netflix. 

“I just have a couple essays and a presentation,” you mumble out. “You?”

“Ugh, I still have all of my final exams to take,” Ruby tells you with a thick, heavy sigh. Clearly, she doesn't feel like talking about them now. Or at all. “The life of a biology major.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to be a doctor, not me,” you remind her crudely. “You better know your shit, or I’m never taking my kids to your practice.”

“Rude,” Ruby says. “There goes my family and friends discount offer.”

You laugh to yourself, a small smile inching its way across your lips. Ruby’s always known how to brighten your day, even when you feel like absolute shit. 

“What are we watching, hmm? I’m cool with anything.”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, flicking through all of the rom-com options and feeling very unhappy with all of them. “I feel like you’ve seen all of these.”

“Yeah,” Ruby says. “Whenever I’m not studying, I’m watching Netflix or The Bachelor.”

You nod. Maybe you’ll just settle on some old NCIS reruns and call it a night. 

“Oh!” Ruby exclaims suddenly, a lightbulb going off above her head. “How about we watch your movie? The rom-com you did with Jungkook! I haven’t seen it yet.”

“I don’t know…” You begin, the mere thought putting a bad taste in your mouth. For obvious reasons. 

“Come on, please? I really want to see it, you were so excited about it,” Ruby begs, getting all antsy as she climbs all over you, literally pulling your arm to get you to cave in. “It’s short, too, isn’t it? Like forty-five minutes long? We can watch whatever you want afterwards. Please.”

You huff out a breath. If it were up to you, you would move that film onto a flash drive and toss it into a dumpster on fire. But it’s not just up to you. Ruby has been asking you about it since the day you told her you were filming it, and now all she wants to do is see the final result. And it’s only forty-five minutes long. What’s that when compared to the rest of your life?

“Fine,” you relent, not wanting to fight about it any longer. “Let me get my computer.”

Ruby cheers. 

You bring your laptop over to your coffee table, turning off the ceiling lights as Ruby tucks herself underneath a blanket, hands warmed by her steaming cup of tea. You pull up the movie file and, taking a deep breath, press play. 

It opens with your first interview with Taehyung, a muted, royalty-free lo-fi hip-hop song playing in the background. You had edited it so that it would jump back and forth between your answer and Jungkook’s, highlighting the contrast between the two of you. It was mostly for comedic purposes, just because seeing you deadpan about how love doesn’t exist and then quickly switching to Jungkook wax poetic about it is amusing, but watching it now just makes you want to curl into yourself. 

You should have known that this would have never worked out. Should have kept that same jaded attitude. You let your guard down for one second and look at what’s happened to you.

The next scene that Jungkook shows is, of course, the moment he spills burning hot coffee all over you in the middle of the Starbucks, comedically panning up to your positively-flabbergasted face just to add to the shock factor. Next to you, Ruby laughs at the mishap, obviously amused by the fact that the two of you are now drenched in coffee and scrambling to clean up the mess. You try to focus your energy on how peeved you were at Jungkook after he did that, but get distracted the moment he films himself wrapping his denim jacket around you, placing it over your shoulders and making sure it’s just right. 

He didn’t have to do that, and the two of you both knew it. But still, he sent you off your class all bundled up in a jacket that smelled like him, smelled of that boyish aroma that you couldn’t get rid of, even when you put it in the wash with your lavender detergent. All of Jungkook’s clothes smelt like that no matter how much cologne he put on, always smelt woody and thick. It would consume you, that scent, a cloud surrounding your figure whenever you were near him. 

The movie keeps playing, and you keep thinking about how much of a fool you must look like in it now, all giggles and smiles as Jungkook sings Frankie Valli to you while he hands you a rose, that same sly little smile dotting his features. Hearing the song again makes you feel like you’re choking, like something’s smothering you, and you’re not sure what it is until you realize that it’s the sound of Jungkook’s voice. 

You haven’t heard him sing since he serenaded you. 

Then it’s your first date, the one Ruby told you to wear the yellow dress to (“Hey, I told you you looked amazing in it! Wow!” Ruby exclaims when she sees you). You remember when you edited this, putting the clips together of you eating at the restaurant, wandering around the park, posing underneath the trees, holding hands. You were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt while you were editing, grinning from ear to ear at all of the things the two of you did together. They were so picturesque, those scenes, so perfectly shot, so romantici—t did a fine job of convincing you that it was all real. 

You even put in the little clip of you and Taehyung talking. A mistake, now that you look back on it, of course. It was so vulnerable, so real, so candid and honest like you said you would be, and now it’s all blown up in your face. You must have looked like such an idiot to Jungkook when he saw this scene for the first time in class. You remember the wide-eyed look on his face when it popped up. Like he couldn’t even believe you had done this in the first place. 

Scoffing, you shake your head. You either. 

The rest of it you can hardly bear to watch. Just a wrap-up of your relationship, a compilation of all of the small moments you shared when you didn’t realize that Jungkook was filming, when you dared whip out your camera to shoot for a second or two. Little clips that jump from scene to scene, shots of you laughing and eating and skipping along campus as you held hands. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that it’s all over. 

You don’t even listen to the final interview, not bothering to pay attention to what you or Jungkook have to say when you were there, when you can recall every word he’s ever spoken to you at the drop of a hat. 

The truth is, you were always a goner for him. 

And look how well that played out. 

By the time the kissing scene comes up once more, you’re ready to set your whole laptop alight. 

The screen turns black as it ends, fading away into nothingness, the instrumental slowly disappearing alongside the image. You shut your laptop when it’s all over, a little too angry for your own good, but you wrestle the scowl off your face as you take a drink of water from the glass sitting on the table. 

“Wow,” Ruby says, speechless. She blinks at your closed laptop. 

“Did you like it?”

“I—I don’t even know what to say,” Ruby says, which is a first. “It was amazing, Y/N. Seriously. Gorgeous. Like, cinematographically? Stunning. The shit on Netflix isn’t even as good as that.”

Even if you did have to sit through your stupid movie one more time, the compliments make you feel a bit better. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

Ruby nods enthusiastically. “It was incredible. I’m just—I’m in awe. You and Jungkook have a gift, dude. It was seriously one of the best things I’ve watched in a really long time. And, like, not even in a cheesy, yucky rom-com kind of way. It was so… so genuine. So real. Wow.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“You’ll have to tell Jungkook, too,” Ruby says. “He did really well.”

“Yeah, he’s a great actor,” you say, a little too bitterly for your own good. 

“What do you mean?” Ruby raises an eyebrow your way. “I didn’t think he was acting at all. It looked pretty real to me.”

You frown. “It did?”

“I mean, yeah,” Ruby says with an honest nod. “I mean, you did tell me it was a mockumentary and not just a run-of-the-mill rom-com. So wasn’t everything supposed to be real, anyway?”

“Yes…” you trail off, unsure of the direction of this conversation.

“Well, if you ask me,” Ruby says, all matter-of-factly, “I’d say he definitely fell in love with you.”

Something rushes through you. Something warm and bright and full of energy. 

Hope. 

Even though you have finished one of your finals early, finals week is still just as much of a slog as it always is. Three essays and two presentations deep, you aren’t finished any of them and the due dates are slowly creeping up on you, ready to pounce the moment the clock strikes twelve. 

Eh, it could be worse. You could be Ruby and have six timed, proctored final exams on biology, anatomy, and chemistry. So you suppose you can’t complain too much. 

Finals week sees you all holed up in your apartment like always, but more so this semester than any previous ones because you don’t feel like going to the library and risking seeing Jungkook there. Or anywhere, really. Since you presented on the last day of classes, you haven’t spoken since, and hopefully you can keep that streak going forever. You had made it until this semester without ever crossing paths despite being in the same major, so hopefully that luck will follow you. 

It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to call it quits for the night, having at least gotten mostly through two of your essays (just have to edit and proofread!) and worked on about half of your two presentations. Sighing, you get up from your couch and stretch, feeling your bones crack from sitting in the same place for hours on end. 

You lean over to the floor lamp by the edge of the couch, ready to flick it off and head to bed, when you hear something outside. 

“You’re just too good to be true…”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

You freeze.

The voice is soft and mellow, a little muted because it’s making its way through your wooden door before it reaches your ears, but it is unrecognizable. Even without the acoustics of the Eighth Notes, you know who’s on the other side. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”

“I wanna hold you so much…”

“At long last, love has arrived…”

“And I thank God I’m alive…”

Unable to resist, you wander to your front door, basking in the sound of him, in the way the notes float through the air as if on clouds, dancing along the walls as they sink into your brain. He sounds so sweet, voice warm like tea on a cold night, just singing his song on this empty, lonely night. But it’s not just his song, is it? 

It’s yours, too.

You pull open the door. 

“You’re just too good to be true,” Jungkook sings, a honeyed melody that calms the waves of your stormy heart, “can’t take my eyes off of you…”

But just because he’s here, serenading you once more, doesn’t mean he’s going to get it any easier from you. You fight to keep the smile off your face, pressing your lips together as you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”

“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”

He meets your eyes with his own, and they aren’t glinting in the way they normally do, the way that they do when he knows he’s doing something to grind your gears, when he’s got a trick up his sleep. They gleam like pearls as the dim glow of your apartment lights up his figure, warm yellow mixing with the caramel in his irises.

“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”

Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”

“And let me love you, baby…”

From behind him, Jungkook brings out a single red rose, twirling it between his fingers as he holds it out to you. 

“Let me love you…” He trails off there, voice delicate as vanishes into the chilly night air, disappearing between the two of you. 

You can’t help but take the flower from his hand. What else are you supposed to do?

“So?” Jungkook asks, hopeful. 

“Don’t think you can just show up at my apartment and woo me back by singing to me,” you chide, even though he definitely can. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says simply, because there really is nothing else to say. “I should have told you.”

“I watched our rom-com again,” you tell him. “I should have believed you when you said you cared about me.”

“I always did,” Jungkook says. “I just wanted you to know that love was real, and that it was there for you.”

“I should have known,” you agree. You look up at Jungkook through lidded eyes, musing to yourself. “You know what I learned?”

Jungkook tilts his head in curiosity. “What?”

“That love isn’t a feeling. It’s a person,” you explain, sighing pleasantly. “Love comes to us through the things we share with other people. That’s what it is.” Your thumbs twiddle in front of you, the pads of your fingers rubbing at the stem of the rose.

He takes a single step forward, reaching out to take your hand in his own. “And are you pleased with who you’ve found?”

You roll your eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot.”

Jungkook obliges without a second thought. 

There is no one to film you this time, no project to work on. There is only you, and there is only him. And there is only a lifetime that the two of you share, a story that you have told together, piece by piece, frame by frame. Your movie didn’t end once you finished editing. Nor did it end the moment the screen went black in Pollack’s class. It wasn’t even over when you watched it a second time with Ruby. 

No, it continues on. Forever and ever, so long as you are with him. There will always be something new to capture, to burn into a disk so you’ll have it for eternity.

He pulls you in for a kiss and it’s not the end of the film. It’s the beginning of a brand new part, a new installment in the series that is your life with him. That is the relationship you have created together. His lips aren’t the fireworks as the credits roll. They are the scene where the two characters meet for the very first time and know that they were meant to be. The scene that sets all of the other ones in motion. That is who Jungkook is. That is what you are sharing, right now. 

A brand new frame. 

When you part, you press your forehead against his, soft blonde locks framing his face as they tickle your face, dancing along the skin of your cheeks.

“You called it a rom-com,” Jungkook points out randomly, just remembering now. 

“Well, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know…” Jungkook says, pretending to think about it as he rocks on the back of his feet. “Did it have a happy ending?”

You bring your lips to his once more, arms wrapped around his neck as you clasp the rose between your fingers. You make a mental note to press it later. Something else to remember him by. Something other than your movie. 

Jungkook pulls you into him once more, hands resting firmly on your waist, letting his body press against yours as you stand there in the muted light of your apartment’s living room, letting the cool spring breeze wash over you. You smile against his lips, feeling your heart race when he grins back. 

“Yes,” you declare proudly. 

And so, they lived happily ever after. 

↳ thanks for reading! don’t forget to let me know if you enjoyed it!

[theravenclawlover]

Welcome to the Industry of Porn

Paring: Avengers X Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, heavy smut, drinking, slight angst in later chapters, fluff if you squint, and my English as usual.

Word Count: 3,451.

Summary: AU where the Avengers are Pornstars. It’s pretty self-explanatory.

Chapter: 4.

Chapter Title: A new kind of family

A/N: I finally graduated yall! So long college life! Sorry, this part took so long to post, but I had finals and graduation, and now I have to look for a job lmao. Nothing scandalous on this part, and won't until maybe the next one. which won't be you but two of my favorite characters. If you want to be tagged for this work or others please let me know by either commenting or sending me an ask.

The month after the glorious evening you and Cassie had in Las Vegas, life became full of surprises. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you hadn't expected to keep in touch with anyone you met at the party, but it seemed you had made a good impression because you were now friends with Bucky and Steve. Well, more like texting buddies as that was the only way the four—Cassie was also in the group chat Bucky had insisted on making as he found it annoying to send the same funny videos three times—could keep contact. It had started with funny videos Bucky would text you, and then Steve would send important news he found on the internet. You, of course, were confused but didn't say anything until Cassie had brought it up as she commented about a topic Steve had sent the both of you. You found it funny, really, almost ironic that you had seen those two fuck for porn and now they were trying to come up with a catchy nickname that they could bug you with. Again, ironic.

But that wasn't the only thing that had been a surprise, you had been seeing more of Tony as well. You knew that Stark was friends with the Russo's but something they had failed to mention during the party was that they were the directors behind most of the high-ranking adult movies the Avengers had. You had found out about it one week and a half after the party when you were shooting three different shorts for the Russo's, and Tony had paid a visit along with Jason. Cassie and you were confused to see both men there and had asked Joe after the day was over why they were there. He had opted to grin and say, 'he has new projects, and has been talking with Jason and us about 'em'. That had been enough for the both of you until he kept coming to every other shoot you had.

One morning, after having shot the first couple of scenes of the day, Jason knocked on the door of the room Cassie was waiting for you to finish taking a quick shower.

"Hey, what's up?" said Cassie as she opened the door to let the man in.

"Morning, I was looking for Y/n? is she still in the shower?" he asked as he looked around the bare room of the rented house where the scenes were being shot.

"Yup, she got some of it on her hair," said Cassie as she scrunched her nose. Jason huffed a laugh.

"I guess I would spend as much time in the shower if I had sperm all over my hair," he added as he took a seat on the bed, "I hope you don't mind if I wait here with ya?"

"Nah, it's fine." Cassie sat next to him as they heard your voice carry as you sang one of your favorite songs.

"So, why do you need to talk to Y/n?"

"I'm sure you and Y/n have seen Stark and I come in a couple of times," she nodded her head, "well, a couple of months ago he had to cut some people from his company and team, and he's been looking for new people and you and Y/n seem to have made an impression on him. And trust me, he rarely comes out to scout people, he has Maria Hill and Nick Fury for that."

"Wait, so you're saying that Stark wants Y/n?"

"Who wants me?" you asked as you opened the door of the bathroom, a bathrobe covering you as you used a towel to dry your hair.

"I was about to tell Cassie how Stark has personally made the time to speak with me, Joe, and Anthony so he can make a contract for you and Cassie," said Jason as he got up from the bed to face both of you and Cassie.

"What?!" you and Cassie shrieked at the same time.

"Stark has been talking to Joe and Anthony because you—" he pointed at you, "—are under contract with them, and he's been talking to me about you Cassie because he wanted to see the pictures you took of Y/n. He wants you to be part of his photography and video department."

It was silent.

Cassie sat still on the bed as she gaped at the man while you had stopped your movements with the towel still drying your wet hair. It seemed like a whole five minutes before you or Cassie moved or said anything.

"Are you pulling our legs?" you asked as you approached Cassie and sat next to her.

"I know, it sounds crazy, the man himself has been at our necks trying to make sure nothing can stop him from hiring you both," he said with a smile.

"Fuck," exclaimed Cassie as she finally looked at you. You looked at her with the same wide eyes.

"Yes."

"Excuse me?" said Jason as he looked at you. You had whispered your answer.

"Tell Stark we're in, we'll sign."

Jason smiled wider as he took his phone out of his pocket to call Tony.

Tony Stark had set up a meeting the next morning as soon as Jason had said the words 'they're in' to him. And so, the next morning, you and Cassie drove to the once 'Stark Enterprises' building which was now called 'Avengers Tower' which was the name Bucky had said the building was called. The building was tall, with numerous amount of floors that you both could only guess what they were for. Down on the first floor was only a front desk with a young woman.

"Good morning, how can I help you?" said the woman with an Irish accent.

"Morning, we're here for a meeting with Tony Stark," said Cassie with a smile. The woman asked for your last name as well as Cassie's before she let you take the elevator indicating to press 93 to arrive at Tony's office floor.

"I still can't believe we're here to sign a deal with Tony Stark so we both can work here. Like, my brain can process it still," you said as you shifted on your spot as your anxiety rose.

"You can't process it? Imagine me! I'm not even graduated and I'm about to have a job that is willing to take me even before I receive my damn diploma. Stark seems to be in a hurry if you ask me," said Cassie as she glanced at the changing numbers on the panel.

"I know, I mean Jason did tell you that he had lost some people, so maybe he's one of those people that can't be at peace if things are not to their liking, kinda like you," you said as you chuckled at the last part. As you conversed with Cassie, your nerves calmed. The doors opened announcing your arrival on the last floor of the building.

The floor was as spacious as the first floor, but this time the floor was part lobby—which was ridiculously fancy—and part Stark's office. The doors to his office were open, so he raised his head when you and Cassie came out of the elevator.

"The ladies of the hour," he said as he stood from his chair and walked around his desk as he approached you both while you two walked into his office. Which was fancy as well, full of weird tech gadgets.

"I'm glad the two of you decided to make a deal with me," he said as he signaled to the chairs in front of his desk.

You both took your seats as Tony walked over a small cabinet that to no one's surprised ended up being a wine cabinet.

"I know it's early, but would you two like a glass of wine? It's not every day I hire people," he said as he took out a wine bottle.

"Sure, why not," you said, and Cassie nodded. Soon, you three were sitting down and with a glass of wine in hand.

"Alright, so I know a lot about you Y/n which is why I know I want you to work for me. But you, Cassie, I don't know much about you aside from your work with photography. Do you know anything else aside from photography?"

Cassie cleared her throat as she felt all eyes on her.

"I know video editing, but my main focus has always been photography. I did take two semesters where I focused on digital design, but that was before I decided to just double major on photography and creative writing," she said.

"Creative writing?" he asked as he sipped his wine.

"Yeah, but that was because of the number of writing courses I had to take as GEN-ED courses and was recommended to just double major so I wouldn't have random credits," she said while she shrugged.

"So, you're good at writing?"

"Not as good as Miss almost-a-journalism-major over here," she said as she pointed at you, which made you groan. She knew how it annoyed you to be reminded of your failed attempts to make it through college.

You expected Tony to laugh along with Cassie who let out a chuckle at your reaction, but Tony looked at you with raised eyebrows but before you could ask anything, he smiled and pulled out two contracts along with two fountain pens.

"Well, I guess that's good to know because the position I want you to have involves a little of everything of what you do," he sat back on his chair, "I want you to be head of the department. The last person was fired because it turned out I was trusting the wrong kind of people, so this time I wanted something fresh to erase the mark they left and teach new things to those who stayed here. Your job, if you take it, will involve taking pictures of my starts when they work. I will have to work on the schedule that way you know who you'll be working with, sometimes you'll have another person with you because there are never too many pictures when they're good. You will also be asked to keep up with the video vlogs some of my starts have, you just gotta make sure they're submitting good things. You will have a team for that, you want a good video done, they'll do it, but you can always do it yourself if you want. And lastly, every year two of my departments come together for the yearly special issue but that is still months away, so no need to worry about it right now. So, Cassie, can I trust that you will be able to do this?"

You and Cassie were speechless at the number of things she would have to do. Your job was easy: act, fuck, and repeat. Hers? There's a reason why you dropped out of college, and she didn't. She could do it.

"I'll admit, it is scary the number of things I would be doing, but Mr. Stark, I can assure you that I will give my one-thousand-percent for this opportunity. I will not break that trust, sir."

She understood that it was serious, therefore you did try to hold a chuckle at how formal she sounded with him contrary to what she had sounded back at the party.

Tony took a minute to analyze Cassie's face before he gave a chuckle and grinned.

"Cassie, you have me convinced that I am making the right choice by adding you to my team," he pushed the contracts toward you both, one for you and one for Cassie, "Now, you Y/n, I already know I want you here and if I'm being honest, I have some people that were quick to tell me that you are one of the few that actually take this job seriously. It's hard to find that professionalism these days. So, here are the contracts. I know this was super last minute, so you can get comfortable outside and read them over. If you have any questions or want to go over any section of the contract, just walk right in."

With that, you both grabbed the contract. Cassie made herself comfortable on the big couch, she held a groan as the comfy couch could make her fall asleep within seconds, you opted for the lone sofa.

Neither of you could believe it was really happening, you were minutes away from signing with the brand that introduced you to this world, and Cassie was also minutes away from signing with the same brand she never thought she would be working for, and she was sure no other job would offer her an important position like the one Tony was trusting her with. It was all too surreal, yet it felt right. It felt like this was the right path and life had finally been kind enough to shed some light toward it.

While you were almost done with the contract, the last couple of pages talked about one of the offers/benefits if you worked for the company: living accommodations. You read over it carefully as it seemed like it was too good to be true. The building was not only the headquarters, but it also housed all the stars and the majority of the staff that work at the company. It was not mandatory, but each of the house-floors offered up to ten rooms, one full kitchen, one spacious common area, and each bedroom offered a personal full bathroom, and a spacious room with a queen-sized bed—which could be changed if you opted to buy a different one—and you could decorate the room however you wanted. Everything was paid for, there was no rent, but you would be in charge of your own groceries, necessities, and room furniture. The pay was good, the deal was great, the decision was made.

You showed Cassie what you had finished reading, and she had to read it from her contract to believe it. It was no surprise when she said that she would have to rent her apartment to the other college students because there was no way in hell she was going to pass out on living here along with you. Besides, the drive to the university was long from here.

Soon after that you both took a deep breath and signed the contract. Now, Tony needed to sign, and it would be a sealed deal.

You both, with grins on your face, walked in and Tony, upon seeing you both, clapped his hands and grabbed the contracts you both had set on the desk for him. He scanned it over and smiled when he saw that you both had signed for the living arrangements as well. He looked up with a bright smile.

"Well, only one thing left to do," he grabbed his pen and signed where he needed it. "Welcome to the family, you two are officially Avengers."

Before Tony could get up and serve some drinks to celebrate, the elevator announced the arrival of a new person. You all turned your heads to see Pepper walk toward where all of you were.

"Did they sign?" said Pepper as soon as she saw both of you, a smile plastered on her face.

Tony stepped around his desk and walked toward her.

"Yes, Pepper, they are officially part of the team," said Tony with a grin as he looked proud about landing a deal with you both.

"Those are great news because I already made a reservation at the new forties-themed restaurant down a couple of streets," she said as she looked happy about her actions, and she typed on her phone, and two dings were heard. You and Cassie pulled out your phones to see that Pepper had sent the address to the place.

"Nothing fancy, it's just going to be a small dinner, I'll have Jarvis pick you up at seven at your place—"she clasped her hands together and smiled, "—this is so exciting!"

By six-forty-five, the man named Jarvis—a man with a British accent and looks that had Cassie practically drooling—knocked on your door to take you both to the restaurant Pepper had made the reservations at.

The drive was quiet and quick, and soon enough you had arrived. Pepper stood outside as she waited for the car to park in front of her. Cassie opened her door before anyone could do it for her because she had an inkling that a minute too long and she would have Jarvis or Pepper open it for you and her.

She greeted both of you and guided you in as you three thanked Jarvis. The ambiance of the restaurant was beautiful and captivating that you couldn't but gape at the place. It wasn't fancy but it definitely gave that presence. Tony was waiting as he conversed with some of the people that had already arrived. You didn't recognize the people at first but soon your mind showed you where you knew them from. Some of them were definitely future co-stars while others were definitely people Cassie was going to work with as you had never seen them before.

He walked toward you when he spotted you, Cassie, and Pepper. He got up from his chair as he walked next to Pepper.

"Glad you're here, ladies," he said as he looked at the people who were now getting up from their chairs, "these are Y/n and Cassie."

A man named Bruce shook both of your hands with a shy smile, he said that he worked for the tech and art department. He was the one who helped create the sets for the movies as well as for the short films. Then another man introduced himself as Nick Fury who was the man in charge of casting—he was director—and then his second in command introduced herself as Maria Hill. Next came a woman who you knew as Captain Marvel, but her name was Carol. You couldn't help but blush at how pretty she was and not to mention the fact that you had a big crush on her. Lastly, Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch introduced themselves as Pietro and Wanda. They were nice, and you couldn't help but feel that Pietro was being extra nice to you and Cassie.

The conversations started flowing as soon as Tony had said for everybody to take a seat as he announced that the others were soon to arrive. And within ten minutes everyone that had been invited came, which to you and Cassie was definitely not a small number of people to make Pepper's "small dinner" feel like one.

When everybody was seated, and Pepper had told Tony that no one else was arriving, he had the waiter serve a glass of champagne to everyone. Once the waiters had gone and served everyone, Tony stood from his chair and called for everyone's attention.

"Thank you, all of you, for canceling plans last minute as Pepper decided to do this impromptu dinner, but at the same time, this is a dinner that is important for all of us. As some of you know, a couple of months ago we hit a rough patch, some people got fired, and it left us in a hard spot. We had enemies amongst us, and they had been selling our ideas to those channels. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't want to hire anyone else that would cause more damage to this company, so I went out of my way and scouted people. It turned out, there's not a lot of people that impress me, but some weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting two lovely ladies who managed to get me hooked—" he motioned with his hand to you and Cassie, "—Miss Y/n and Miss Cassie here, just today, signed their contracts and will be working with us pretty soon. Y/n will be joining my precious collection of starts while Cassie will be joining the post-production team as well with the photography department which she will hold the role of head of the department. I'm not big on adding new people to my company but I refuse to pass out on people I know will succeed here, so I want all of you to help them make themselves feel at home as they will be housed with us. So, if you could raise your glasses, I want to welcome you officially and warmly, Y/n Y/l/n and Cassie Ayers, to this one big dysfunctional family!"

Along with laughs and cheers, Cassie and you could hear the quick 'welcome' some people directed at the both of you. You two thanked Tony as he motioned his glass toward the both of you before gulping it down.

You both looked at each other before looking around at the people who tried to introduced themselves and or wanted to congratulate you both on being part of the company.

It all felt great, it felt right, and you were ready to live a life you felt good about.

Welcome to the Industry Taglist:

@ginger-haired-queen

@arianabrashierstuff

@stylessugarhigh

@hanaamara

@fckdeusername

@mimilie98

@duskangxls

Permanent Taglist:

@cnco-ravenclaw-46

@musiclover812

@teapartydreams

[seiyasabi]

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio),  mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..) 

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money. 

How wrong you had been. 

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world? 

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch. 

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die. 

-

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming. 

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent. 

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.” 

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men? 

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it. 

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression. 

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion. 

“Master Dio, what are you implying?” 

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger. 

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh. 

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss. 

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it’s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork. 

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta. 

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod. 

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze. 

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in. 

“Okay. I understand.”

-

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help. 

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc..  It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha. 

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement. 

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take. 

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty. 

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy. 

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed. 

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe. 

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity? 

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual. 

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since. 

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so. 

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,” A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest. 

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick. 

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal. 

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit. 

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out. 

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you. 

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.” 

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release. 

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor. 

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point. 

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head. 

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!” 

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit. 

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside. 

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before. 

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you. 

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb. 

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?” 

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!” 

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses. 

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.” 

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick. 

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do. 

[angelofstarlight]

New FNAF AU

Ok so this AU came to me randomly and figured I would flush it out more. A few ideas apart of this AU came from others I have seen who are awesome with these ideas and came up with them before me. Go check out @selynnkino and @charlieslowartsies because they came up with Goldie possessing someone as a suit and the GlamMike ideas. Hope you don’t mind me using those ideas because they are awesome.

______________________________________________________________ 

This starts up after FFPS burned down

Galaxy was also working there along side Michael since she also knew the truth

Golden Freddy merges with her after his body burns but his spirit remains and Gal is chill about it

She survived the fire because Michael pushed her out of the building with Helpy in her arms. She does get some burns though

Gregory and Security girl-Vanessa or Nessie-are siblings who ran away from a abusive home while Nessie is in collage

Galaxy meets both of them and takes them in

Que family/sibling shenanigans

Nessie takes up a part time job at the pizza plex 

Galaxy is rebuilding the animatronics she was close to because she saved their A.Is and memories

Nessie takes Galaxy and Gregory with her to the pizza plex for a shift because what could go wrong

Goldie is not happy because he knows something bad will happen

And enter a few hours earlier where Vanny is watching Glitchtrap talk with all attention on him 

Nessie, Galaxy and Gregory all got separated from one another

Michael wakes up now Glamrock Freddy and meets Gregory 

GlamMike and Gregory try to avoid the virus infected, Vanny controlled animatronics 

Galaxy finds them first and GlamMike instantly recognizes her 

Vanguard is a thing and Glitchtrap is amused with slight irritation 

Nessie finds the trio and Michael thinks she’s Vanny for a moment before Gregory hugs her

Vanguard interaction with Galaxy, GlamMike, And Gregory watching 

“Should we get involved?” “I don’t think we should.”  “Are they fighting or flirting because I can’t tell.” 

During a chase scene Galaxy gets separated from the others and Vanny captures her

Que argument between Galaxy and Glitchtrap 

“How are you still alive?!”  “I have my ways! How did you get out of that fire?!”  “Like I’d tell you ya damn weasel rabbit!”

GlamMike rescuing Galaxy and Glitchtrap recognizing him is another mess

When Glitchtrap finally meets Gregory he thinks he’s Evan reborn

Goldie taking over Galaxy and using her as a suit to get Gregory away from Glitchtrap but not before punching the weasel rabbit

The mike stand is used like a bat three times. Twice on Vanny and Once on Glitchtrap, you can guess who hits who with it

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Miles of Memories- 1

We’ve Got Tonight- Bob Seger

Miles of Memories Masterlist CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Dean x reader Best Friends to Lovers AU

Summary: Feeling anxious about heading off to college, you make the most of your last night in town with the help of your best friend, Dean.

Warnings: fluffy, adorable Dean and fun banter. Slight angst (goodbyes are hard). Minor mentions of childhood trauma

WC: 2,900

A/N: This part is like a “prelude” to give you a glimpse of Y/N and Dean’s relationship (5 years before the main storyline). I hope you stay tuned for the slowest of Dean x fem!reader slowburns. I’m so excited to share this story, so please let me know what you think! MASSIVE thanks to my spectacular and badass beta crew—@christopher-evxns @deanwinchesterswitch @ezilyamuzed & @wonder-cole—for all of their help and input!! I edited even after their feedback, so all mistakes are my own.  Credit to Bob Seger for the song :) 

Zipping your suitcase closed with a heavy sigh, you worked through your mental checklist for the hundredth time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.

“Jeez, you act like it’s the last time you’ll ever see this place or something.” With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turned to see Dean leaning casually against your doorframe. “Y’know, I figured I’d talk to Bobby about renting this space out anyway. Save you the stress of missing it while you’re gone because it’ll look completely different the next time you come back.”

“I’m not too worried. I think you’re the last person Bobby would trust with anything—let alone a space in his house.”

Dean grinned, pushing off the doorframe to mosey into your room. “See, normally I’d agree with you. But it just so happens that he gave me my very own key to the garage, so I think he’s coming around. This ready?” He pointed at the suitcase on your bed, and you nodded. 

“Riiight. I’m supposed to believe that Bobby would actually give you a key to come and go at the shop anytime you want.”

Dean shrugged, spinning on his heel with your bag in hand. “Guess he’s looking for a new favorite since you’re skipping town to go be successful out in the real world.”

You snorted and shook your head, silently following him to the door. He stepped out of the way, placing his free hand on the doorknob as you scanned the bedroom one last time. Gnawing your bottom lip, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to alleviate some of the tightness in your chest.

This room had been a safe haven for most of your life, and it was hard to remember the days before you called it “home.” Your mother had passed away when you were a toddler, and your father was a drunk, in and out of jail and your life until one day he didn’t come back. Bobby had often been the one who took care of you when your father needed to pass you off onto someone else. 

You didn’t remember much about the “Travelin’ Man” (as Bobby not-so-lovingly referred to him on the rare occasions he was mentioned), but you could easily recall the night Bobby told you this would be your room for good. The relief and excitement you’d felt upon learning you’d have a space of your own were still vivid. Knowing you had a place you could always return to provided a sense of stability and consistency you’d never known.

Bobby may not have been your father by blood, but he was your dad in every sense of the word. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges and tended to be a hermit, but he also had a heart of gold, and not once had he ever made you question whether he cared about you.

A few weeks after settling into your new home, you had met Jessica and Sam during recess at your new elementary school. Although they were a grade younger, you’d instantly hit it off with them. Jess and Sam had always been there for you over the years, too, willing to lend an ear or make time for movie nights and spontaneous trips to the diner. Eventually, Sam had introduced you to Dean, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Each and every memory you had growing up involved at least one (if not all three) of them. But while it was difficult saying goodbye to everyone in general...you still hadn’t been able to grasp the idea of saying goodbye to Dean.

Dean was the one who had been by your side through everything. From heartfelt life chats and your deepest moments of self-doubt to car ride sing-alongs and your loudest belly laughs. He was always there to comfort you, remind you not to take things so seriously, and even drag you into trouble once in a while. 

The thought of leaving him and your safe, familiar home brought yet another wave of apprehension and doubt. What if you were making a huge mistake?

“Y/N...” Dean’s gentle voice coaxed you back to reality. “We’ve still got a lot to pack into our night, so don’t go checking out on me yet.”

Without looking back, you slipped past Dean and heard him shut the door as you made your way downstairs. 

“You know, this wouldn’t be so hard if you would’ve just applied like I told you to. Then we could both be going off to college together, and you’d find out what an honor it would be to have me as a roomie.”

“Okay, well, let me remind you that you’re the one who decided to go ‘see what’s out there’ and get a fancy college degree under her belt. And, even if we did survive being roommates without making the other want to pull their hair out, there’s no way in hell that town would be able to handle both of us.”

“That’s fair.”

“Besides, I won’t have much of a chance to miss you. You’ll probably flunk out and be back here by the end of the semester anyway.”

“Also fair,” you laughed. “Taking a year off to work at The Roadhouse and pretend to get my life together seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m a little worried about getting into the groove of studying and all that crap again.”

“You know, if you need help, all you gotta do is pick up the phone. I mean, Sammy’s a real bookworm, and he’s only a phone call away.” Dean winked as he held the front door open and motioned for you to lead the way. 

Sticking your tongue in your cheek, you fought to hide your amusement at the way he threw his brother under the bus. Before you made it through the door, you whirled around toward the stairs again. “Dang it. I forgot my bathroom bag. Do you mind tossing that one in the car? I’ll be right back!”

“Another bag? Where are you gonna put all this crap?” he muttered.

After retrieving the pouch from the bathroom upstairs and making sure you hadn’t left any necessary items in the drawers and cabinets, you hurried outside to find Dean patiently waiting beside your car. You tossed the small bag and he caught it with ease, pitching it in the backseat before closing the door.

“And done. Any last-minute stops to make along the way?” he asked.

“Nope. I caught Ellen, Jo, and Jody at the end of my shift yesterday, and Charlie was over for a bit this morning. And, you know, Sam and Jess ditched us for California last weekend. That means you and Bobby are the only two left to put up with me until I leave in the morning.”

When your voice cracked unexpectedly, you cleared your throat and surveyed the scrapyard until the faint prick in the corners of your eyes faded. As your departure drew near and you considered everything you were leaving behind, venturing out into the world was quickly beginning to feel more daunting than exciting. 

“Hey…” Dean gripped the tops of your arms, stirring you from your thoughts. “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight...babe. Why don’t you staaaaaaaayy—”

You had thought he was going to say something sweet and comforting, but you playfully shoved him in the chest when you realized he was speaking in Bob Seger lyrics. He stumbled back a step, laughing as he walked around the front of the impala and climbed inside.

***

There was an old park on the outskirts of town where Bobby and John would occasionally drop you both off when they had errands to run. As the years passed, you began riding your bikes the few miles across town, taking turns balancing Sam on your handlebars until Dean was old enough to drive. Eventually, Sam stopped tagging along, but somewhere along the way the park became a place you and Dean cherished. 

A large pond stretched across most of the area, and there was a stately willow tree near the water’s edge that served as your designated “spot.” It was a hideaway often overlooked by others, but it was the perfect escape when the two of you needed a place that was all your own. 

“Alright.” Dean plopped down beside you on the blanket. “You’ve got your grub, an amazing view, and the best company you could ever ask for. What else could you possibly want?”

“You’re right. Baby’s good company and all, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.”

Dean grimaced. “Just for that, I might eat your food.”

“Depending on what it is, I might let you.”

He smirked and unrolled the brown paper sack in his hand. “PB&J’s, just like Mom used to make! I asked if she could whip up a few before she flew out to make sure Sam got all settled at Stanford. She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t catch you and to wish you good luck. This seemed like a, uh, better idea at the time...now that it’s been a couple of days, these might taste like shit.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the sandwich Dean offered. “We’ve probably eaten worse, but I appreciate the sentimental twist. Seeing as how you’re in your 20’s and you had your mom make us sandwiches.”

“Hey, I was going for authenticity! Trying to help you feel like a kid again before you start adulting or whatever and—you know what? Just shut up and eat your food.”

The two of you unwrapped your sandwiches and continued bantering back and forth between bites. Even though the bread was soggy from marinating in jelly for a few days, and it certainly wasn’t the best thing you’d ever eaten, it brought back a flood of nostalgia. 

When a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your thoughts began to drift to dozens of adventures you and Dean had had here. You gazed out over the water, watching the willow branches graze the surface as they gently swayed in the breeze. You tried to commit every detail to memory as you soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, not knowing how long it would be until you returned.

After a while, Dean chuckled under his breath, and you looked at him curiously.

“You remember that day we were pretending to be pirates, and Dad ended up coming to pick us up early?”

“Of course.”

“Man, he was so pissed when he saw us standing on top of that picnic table we managed to drag out and ‘sail’ into the middle of the pond. Sure made an awesome ship, though.”

You smiled at the memory, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I think he was a little more pissed at the fact that we left Sam playing alone in the gazebo. And obviously what made the ‘ship’ great was the pirate flag I made.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean snorted. “You mean the crappy skull you drew on our lunch bag and stuck on the end of a stick? Pretty sure we were having a blast with the ship because it was my brilliant idea in the first place.”

“I was like 8, and it was still better than anything you could’ve drawn.” You crumpled up your trash and threw it at him. “And I was having fun--right up until you pushed me off anyway. I nearly choked to death on all that nasty water I sucked in.”

“Okay, well, you shouldn’t have been trying to be Captain when I’m the oldest, and it was clearly my title to begin with. There was no plank to walk, but obviously, you had to go overboard.” 

He grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. As you studied his face and noticed the faraway look in his eye, his smile faded. You figured his thoughts had drifted back to his dad, who had passed away a couple of years later. 

“I felt so damn bad, though. I really was afraid you were gonna drown. And Bobby was ready to kill me when he found out.”

“Lucky for you, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The two of you joked and reminisced for several more hours, eventually watching the sun set over the water until it sank below the horizon. When it was time to head back to Bobby’s, Dean took the long way home so you could crank the radio and sing along with your hand hanging lazily out the open window. Back at the house, you sat on the kitchen counter and talked with both men until Bobby finally bid you goodnight--but you still weren’t ready to call it a night, knowing morning would come soon and it would be time for you to leave. 

After convincing Dean to stay a little longer, you grabbed a couple of old blankets and spread them in the bed of one of the pickup trucks near the house. With your head on his chest and your body tucked comfortably against his side, you chatted beneath the stars until you drifted off to sleep.

***

“Got everything all packed up?” Bobby asked.

“I think so,” you answered.

“Better double-check because I’m not driving a few hours just to bring you a lost shoe or something.” 

“Is that a challenge?” you teased, seeing right through his gruff quip. “Because I bet I could talk you into it. We both know you’re not gonna know what to do without me.”

He frowned a little before smiling fondly, and you could’ve sworn there was a misty glaze in his eyes.

“Yeah. I s’pose you’re right.”

“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now. You could probably use a little break. Besides, I’ll be back so often you’ll just get sick of me all over again.”

“C’mere, kid.” 

Bobby reached out and pulled you into a hug. Much too soon, he let go and stepped aside so you could say goodbye to Dean. His soft green eyes had been fixed on you, but he glanced away and clenched his jaw when you took a step toward him. 

“So, uh...don’t forget about us when you make it big out there in the real world—catch a break as an artist or an author or some music critic.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “I haven’t even picked out a major yet, but I think I have an advisor who can help me figure out a good fit...eventually. Maybe I’ll be a doctor—or follow in Sam’s footsteps and be a lawyer!”

“There you go. Why not just do it all while you’re at it? Jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever you end up doing, you better come back to visit soon.”

“You got it. Try not to turn into a grumpy old man while I’m gone.”

He shook his head, cracking a smile as he met your eyes. “Only a couple years older than you, brat. Anyway, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I made you a playlist for the drive. Figured I might as well do something useful while I was awake. I sent it to you while you were getting ready.”

Pulling out your phone, you found a message already waiting with a link to the playlist. 

“This is awesome, Dean, thank you. But if it ends up being six hours of nothing but Zeppelin, I’m gonna be pissed.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, making the knot in your throat grow once again at the thought of not seeing him almost every day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss you as much as you were going to miss him.

“Don’t worry; I think it ended up being a decent mix. Not too many classics and not too much of the more modern crap. There was, uh... a certain thought process behind each song, let’s just say that.”

“We all know some of that modern crap is a guilty pleasure of yours. I mean, Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah…” His gaze lingered until his grin faded to a sad smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you leaned forward and threw an arm around each man. Squeezing your eyes closed, you hugged them tight.

“All joking aside...you got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna kick this college thing in the ass,” Dean murmured.

“Thank you.”

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of their embrace and quickly made your way to the car. 

“Drive safe--and call when you get there!” Bobby hollered.

Stealing one last glimpse over your shoulder, you waved and slid behind the wheel. You hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the music fill the vehicle while you fasten your seatbelt.

I know it’s late

I know you’re weary

I know your plans don’t include me...

You shook your head and smiled, blinking back tears at the irony of the song—the lyrics perfectly encapsulating your night with Dean.

Look at the stars so far away

We’ve got tonight

Who needs tomorrow?

We’ve got tonight, babe

Why don’t you stay?

As you started the car and drove away, seeing him and Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror, you finally began to cry.

Part 2

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms  @amanda-teaches  @cosicas-cuquis  @crist1216  @droidyouseek  @emoryhemsworth  @ericaprice2008  @flawless-disaster  @janeyboo  @jenn0755  @ksgeekgirl  @maresmiley  @memyselfandmaddox  @notyourtypicalrose  @randomparanoid  @rynabarnesrogers  @sandlee44  @scarletsoldierrr  @shann-the-artist-moon  @sheerioasteroidpanda  @shynara51  @someday-when-you-leave-me @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  @thisismysecrethappyplace  @torntaltos  @waywardbaby  @waywardrose13  @weebid  @whimsicalrobots  @wintersoldierbaby  @yesfanficsaremylife

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@adoptdontshoppets  @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23  @chevyharvelle  @deangirl7695  @dean-winchesters-bacon  @fandomoniumflurry  @pisces-cutie  @supernaturalenchanted  @superromijn  @thoughts-and-funnies  @waywardnerd67  @x-waywardaf-x

Miles of Mems Tags:

@bobbie3939  @jerkbitchidjitassbutt  @mlovesstories  @onethirstyunicorn  @peridottea91  @valsworldofcreativity

Also tagging those of you who seemed interested when I posted the masterlist. I don’t want to pester you, so I probably won’t tag you in future parts unless you let me know that you’d like to be tagged!

@badlittlehabit99  @cajunquandary  @devvoon  @flamencodiva  @hybrid-in-the-making  @impalackless  @janicho88  @themoonblooms

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.12)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Twelve) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 3,008 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Note: ♫ Steve is getting desperate ♫

Part Eleven || Part Thirteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Tony was pacing in front of the cameras he had up on the large wall when Steve entered the room. Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Rhodey were already down there with Tony, sitting or standing. The general feeling in the room was tension and it was permeating the air.

“Get anything from him?” Tony asked as soon as he caught sight of Steve.

“He didn’t know shit,” Steve said gruffly. “Not that I gave him much time to say anything past admitting he had known she wanted to escape. If he was going to help her, he would have driven her off the property himself and disappeared with her. He would not have stuck around afterward if he had assisted her in any way. He was not that daft.”

“I would beg to differ on that,” Natasha commented, coming to stop in front of the cameras, her eyes searching the screens. “Are you only focusing on New York?”

“Larger cities in the north east for now mainly,” Tony answered, coming to stand beside her. He pointed at the lower right corner of the screens. “I have it set up to follow the main tracks of the Amtrak across the country the longer time passes.”

Bucky came up to Steve and asked, “Her family?”

Steve shrugged, “Her parents aren’t alive. Didn’t mention anyone else really. She was an only child.”

“What about her friends? They could have family in other states.”

“I could look into that,” Clint said. “Facebook isn’t that hard to look through and people are always oversharing on that stupid app.”

“Speaking of her friends… if she says anything she’s heard from you, Steve, about the business, that’s not going to be good,” Rhodey said, looking grim.

Uncomfortably, eyes swept to Steve quickly and he shook his head. “I don’t think she’s concerned about that,” Steve said tightly. “She just… wanted space. And instead of asking, she does some impulsive, unsafe bullshit.” He was working himself up again, his hands resting on his hips tensely. “Absolute horseshit.”

Tony turned from the screens, taking a few steps towards him. Trying to reason with Steve and calm him down, he told him, “Look, Pepper did too when we first got together. It takes a while for them to adjust from the hustle and bustle they were used to, but they do eventually. Unfortunately, Y/N had persistent friends. Stupid, persistent friends at that. But we are going to find her. You’re gonna get your kids back and her.” Tony held up his hand as an idea came, “And on that note, you need to register with the putative father registry.” Steve’s brow stitched in confusion. Tony laughed and said, “Trust me. I did it when I was younger because I was a little loose and needed to know if any of the women I was with – and I was for sure the father – were going to do anything with the kid that would blow back on me. There’s a notice to claim paternity form for a child born out of wedlock. With that, you’ll be notified of any court proceedings, such as adoption or guardianship changes.”

Steve’s jaw clenched at this and Tony said, “I don’t think that’s out of left field that might happen.”

“I’d love to see her try,” Steve said darkly, a deep scowl on his face.

Tony had to smirk at that ferociousness. “Hmm, me too. And good thing about this is that she won’t be notified that you registered. You know, not that she would get a notification anyway because she is AWOL, and it would go to her old address. It also doesn’t need to get notarized.”

He clapped his hands and turned to look at everyone else. “So, we’ll keep these on here. Like I said, the Amtrak cameras are going to go down the three main tracks. If it happens she’s gone for longer, we will start scanning outwards of the northeast on the other cameras. Barton, you got the familial ties. Man, big notes if the family is in a bordering state. Oh, I did get access to Natalie and Yua’s phones, but they are unfortunately turned off. Smart cookies. But if they turn them on again, it’ll light up on this laptop—”

“I’ll watch it,” Natasha volunteered.

Tony nodded in acknowledgment. “Unfortunately, we can’t put out a look out on the license plate because well… it’s Natalie’s car and it’s not stolen if she’s driving it.” He sighed and shrugged, “The rest of us… just on standby I suppose until we get something.”

“Do you want me to handle the meeting tonight with the union?” Rhodey asked.

“I forgot about that. Thank you for remembering,” Tony said appreciatively. “So, yes. And don’t let them try to bully you into giving them a bigger cut. Our deal is set, they just need to give us the money from the trade.”

“Do you have the surveillance video? Of Y/N leaving?” Steve asked him suddenly.

“You sure you wanna watch that?” Tony asked, skepticism lacing his tone. “I don’t need you punching a hole through these screens or anything.”

“No, I want to see it,” Steve said. “I want to see what she left with. Make sure she just didn’t hop in a car without anything.”

“Alright,” Tony said, still sounding uncertain. He walked towards another laptop and opened it, working to pull up the video.

Steve was there behind him, looming. He sat in the chair in front of the laptop, watching Tony rewind to the part he wanted to see. It stopped as the women started coming out of the house. Steve leaned forward, his eyes zeroed in on where Y/N was standing saying goodbye to everyone. He watched until it was just Yua with her and then Natalie came out of the house, a duffel bag over her shoulder and a hoodie and hat in hand. She threw it into her car and they moved quickly to put the coat on Y/N and get her into the backseat of the car. She was adjusting the hat and pulling the hood up as Natalie pulled away.

Tony was right. All Steve wanted to do was grab the laptop and smash it repeatedly on the table to try to quell some of the white-hot rage exploding inside, thinking if Bryce’s dumbass had just been outside, they would have never been able to even get her into the car in the first place. And how Natalie had managed to not be stopped in the house by him made him even angrier if possible. The giant oaf had been watching a movie Wanda told him.

He held it together though, keeping his hand steady as he reached up and closed the laptop with a slight snap but not too hard.

“Well, at least she’s got some clothes I guess,” he said to no one in particular. He pushed the chair back with a loud squeak. “I need to go on a run.”

<><><>

“And what? Go back to the city and wait for Steve to find me and beat the crap out of me until I give him information?” Yua asked seriously.

Your mouth fell open slightly at her bluntness. You had asked Yua what she was planning on doing past this as the three of you sat on the back porch of the cabin in the moonlight. When you had suggested going home, she had rose her brows in surprise before saying what she had.

She noticed the look on your face and apologized, “Sorry. That’s just… what’s going through my mind. Filter is a little gone by now.” She held up her fourth beer can sheepishly.

“I don’t think it’s far from the truth,” you said quietly. “So, you’re smart for worrying about it.” You shifted in your seat and admitted, “Steve doesn’t exactly sleep much either. So he’s got more time in the world than most.”

“Insomnia?” Natalie asked.

“No. He doesn’t need to. He would fake it a lot of the time… you know, just to lay in bed with me during the night.”

“That’s kind of romantic,” Yua said and Natalie shot her a piqued look. “What? It is!”

“Or creepy because he wanted to be next to her all the time,” Natalie retorted.

“I think it was a little bit of both. It’s not like he wouldn’t hear me get out of bed even if he was in his study or somewhere else in the house, so it’s not like being right next to me would have made much of a difference in the long run,” you muttered, picking at the blanket. “But, he enjoyed it I think. Lying in bed with me. Snuggling me while I slept. He’d watch TV quietly too.” You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking of how you had enjoyed those moments too, waking up with him there, warm in his embrace. Admitting that out loud though was too hard; like it was fake that you had asked for help.

“Good thing light doesn’t bother you when you sleep. Honestly, I’m jealous of your ability to just fall asleep wherever,” Natalie said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Soaking it up while I can,” you said, giving a halfhearted smile.

“Where are we going to go though? Seriously? We can’t exactly go back to our apartments for our things. I’m afraid someone would be watching,” Yua said and you admired her ability to think ahead like that.

“We could order a moving service. Have them store our things in a storage unit outside NYC. Then after a substantial amount of time, have it shipped to wherever we move to,” Natalie suggested before she sighed heavily. “How am I going to get a good recommendation for a job by just quitting?”

“You could call and tell Brett the truth. Well, not who we are running from, don’t want to get anyone else involved, plus you know… they are already going to be mad about Y/N leaving with secrets. So no need to incriminate them when they’re already expecting it. On the off chance they do find us, not having gotten them in trouble with the law will probably bode well for us. But anyway, you know… tell Brett that you’re helping a friend escape an abusive partner.” Yua suggested. The two of you were staring at her in astonishment and she shrugged. “What? That’s what I was going to do with my boss. I can work from home completely. I already do it half time. He just needs to mail me a laptop and we already have WiFi here. Thank god, I would die without Netflix.”

“You astound me sometimes,” you told her, a wide smile on your lips. And it was quickly replaced by tears of gratitude and she reached for your hand, grasping it tightly. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… overwhelmed. I didn’t want you guys to have to uproot your lives for me.”

“We’ve been friends for a decade. Plus, it’s not like I have anything going for me back there anyway except a high paycheck and a string of hard dicks following behind me like dogs and I can get that somewhere else,” Yua responded, taking a swig of her beer as you and Natalie laughed. She gave your hand one more squeeze before pulling away.

“Plus, New York was getting a little tired anyway,” Natalie chimed in. “I’ve wanted to move. Not ideally like this but… I think we can make the best of it.”

Nodding, you said, “We can try.”

You suddenly stilled, your fingers digging slightly into your abdomen.

Yua sat up quickly, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I… I think one of them just kicked,” you said, a slow smile spreading across your face. The two of them immediately relaxed. You shot Yua a look and asked, “Is that too early?”

‘No, that sounds right on time,” Yua said. “Especially for your first one.”

Looking down at your abdomen, you smiled again softly this time. You tried to will them to move again, imagining them sleeping there. You wondered what they were dreaming about.

<><><>

Steve thanked Tony for bringing him the sandwich he had placed in front of him, taking a large bite. He was and had been planted in front of the surveillance screens for a long while, only getting the minimal amount of sleep he required and only when someone else was there to watch while he was out. Rhodey had just been watching with him and got up to stretch his legs, also thanking Tony for bringing the sandwiches.

A ring cut into the silence and Steve swallowed before picking up his phone. He saw the number on the phone, recognizing it as Dr. Kamal’s office.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Rogers?” A voice said on the other end of the phone.

“Yes?”

“I am calling from Dr. Kamal’s office. It looks like Y/N has an appointment right now and we were wondering if you were on your way…?”

“Shit,” Steve swore under his breath and said, “No, no we are not on the way. I’m sorry. It completely slipped my mind to call and cancel.”

“Would you like to reschedule? There’s an opening later in the day, there was another cancellation. Or we can look—”

“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Steve cut in. “I don’t know where she is.”

“O-oh,” the assistant said on the phone, stammering a bit at that information. “Like today or…?”

“I haven’t seen her for days,” Steve clipped. “She ran off with her friends. I’m not sure to where. I have not had contact with her. So, I can’t make an appointment because I don’t know when I’ll find her or if she’s coming back.”

The assistant said slowly, “Um, well, I suppose then give us a call when you do know.”

“Will do,” Steve muttered before hanging up the phone.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, slamming his phone down on the counter. His mind was racing thinking about Y/N missing a check up and something being wrong with the babies, with her, or both. He hated not having control of the situation and not being confident she was being kept safe by him.

He looked to Rhodey and Tony. “It’s time to report her missing.”

“Steve, she’s not missing. The cops won’t—” Rhodey started to say.

“I don’t need the cops. If we get her face out there, someone might call.”

“And if that someone is a cartel or something? Saw her face, kidnaps her or all three of them and then demands ransom?”

Steve shouted, “Then I’ll fucking pay it, Rhodey!”

Rhodey closed his mouth and shot a look at Tony, who merely shrugged in return. Rhodey sighed, knowing that Tony would be acting the same way if it was Pepper who had run off on him and would not be garnering any support to dissuade Steve from it from him.

<><><>

Yua came into the cabin quickly, tossing her bags down, startling you and Natalie watching a movie. She stood in front of the TV, blocking the view. “We got a problem.”

“What?” the two of you demanded in unison.

“Your face is all over the place on one of the news channels. I saw it at the mini mart behind the counter.”

Natalie scoffed, “How? Are they saying she’s missing?” Yua nodded and Natalie let out a frustrated noise. “Aren’t those supposed to drop if no foul play is expected? Like… they can easily draw conclusions that you ran off on your own accord. It’s clear in the tapes I’m sure!”

“Money,” Yua said darkly. “They’ll be able to keep up advertisements about it forever probably with all the money they have. Probably banking on everyone wanting to do a favor for Captain America. Who wouldn’t want to be in his debt for a favor? Plus, they’re also playing the ‘she’s not mentally competent’ card.”

“What?” you asked shocked, feeling like you had gotten socked in the stomach.

“You can’t be serious. Just because she’s pregnant?” Natalie demanded.

Yua said nothing which was answer enough.

“How will I go to a hospital?” you asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Natalie assured you quickly, “You can use an alias when they admit you. And when we bring you in, we will have a hood on and a hat, just like when you left. Hopefully there won’t be a lot of people in the ER. Upon discharge, your real name would be attached to the records but under HIPAA you’ll be protected.”

Yet, HIPAA could not protect you from someone who desperately needed money really.

“But… won’t someone turn me in to Steve?” You could not keep the worry out of your voice.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Yua said gently. “And I don’t think it’s something you should worry about.”

Squeezing your hands together, you focused on your breathing, trying to remain calm and push the thought from your mind. Your birth was still far enough off that hopefully it would die down a little.

“Have you thought more about adoption?” Natalie asked you gently.

You nodded, “Yeah. Can I though if I am not a resident of the state?”

“You can surrender a child – or children, in your case – up to the hospital within 72 hours in most states. I checked,” Yua said.

“Good,” you said, nodding. It hit you suddenly and you asked panicked, “You turned your phone on?”

Yua shook her head and said, “I asked the guy at the station to check it out for me. Slid him an extra five dollars while I went to call my mum on the pay phone, let her know I’m okay. He was confused but he did it.” You relaxed hearing that, as did Natalie. Yua ventured, “Are you sure that’s what you want to do? Adoption?”

You swallowed thickly, avoiding eye contact. The two of them were quiet, waiting for you to figure out how to answer. “I’m not sure,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993​, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog

[loverspersonas]

the most beautiful moment in life | viii

pairing: ot7? x reader

genre: hyyh au, high school au, angst, drama, fluff, smut?

length: 5.5k

summary: Eight strangers with different stories happen to meet one day, by fate or some kind of cruel, exquisite happenstance, and realize that they’re not as different as they thought.

a/n: i realize i’m updating really slowly and the reason for that is online school which is taking up pretty much all my time BUT it hasn’t stopped me from writing at all. i actually have many different scenes written already, they’re just not in order, so i have to kind of make myself write the scenes that are happening first before any of those, which is hard sometimes cause i have so many ideas :) 

i realize that the pace of the fic is also kind of slow and that’s because i don’t want to have such a big overarching plot (like some kind of mystery to solve or a big villain) but rather small subplots happening at the same time. it feels easier to me to develop characters and relationships and i get to include a lot of different plot ideas that way (and there is so much happening in hyyh). it’s also hard writing this cause the bangtan universe is really complicated when you think too much about it, and we don’t even know everything about it, so i have to work with what we have and what i know. 

so thank you guys for liking what i’m writing! i hope i can do the hyyh era some (even if it’s the tiniest amount) justice, and i hope you guys enjoy it too. and if you have feedback or ideas, i’d love to hear it!

↳series masterlist

Remembering details from a dream was a lot harder than a nightmare. Nightmares had you waking up in a cold sweat, sometimes plaguing your mind throughout the day if they were intense enough. Dreams, however, were only alive while you were asleep, and then they slipped away from your mind like they never even happened.

For the past few weeks, you’d been getting dreams that you could mostly or somewhat recall more often. Vague, obscure scenes or flashes that changed sporadically because even in your dream state, you had no control over your mind.

But you noticed that they tended to involve people in your life. Your mother, Sana, your old friends, and the seven boys you’d unconsciously formed a friendship with over the past month. Of course, it didn’t have to mean anything. But some of them strangely stood out more than others. 

One time, you saw Namjoon standing in a dark area with a single white light illuminating his silhouette from above, and a cigarette slipping from between his fingers. Another time, there was Hoseok at what looked like a train station. He was walking along the train tracks at night like he couldn’t see you watching him. And then, there was a scene of Jungkook walking on to the road, changing almost immediately before a car swerved right into him. That was one thing you couldn’t forget. Because you remembered it had been you driving that car.

“Y/N?”

The voice of the exact boy you were thinking of broke through your string of thoughts. When you looked up, you suddenly remembered where you were. 

There were a lot of nice vast areas of green fields that belonged to the Academy. With iron benches and tables and the smell of oak trees, it was an ideal setting for many fundraisers, picnics and outdoor events. You were currently sitting cross legged on top of one of those gray metal tables right beside a tall tree that cast a shade over you and the seven others sitting around you. Judging by the way some of them were looking at you, you must’ve missed something in the conversation.

“Hmm?” you asked, glancing at Jungkook who was sitting beside you, also on top of the table.

“See, I told you she wasn’t listening,” Taehyung said to the two taller boys on either side of him. “Face it, Namjoon. The books were boring.”

While Seokjin seemed thoroughly amused, Namjoon’s expression was just the slightest bit annoyed, so you could tell this argument might have been going on for a while. But his patience with Taehyung and the some of the other boys was astounding to you.

On the opposite side of the bench, Yoongi was sitting with Jimin and Hoseok, and quirked a brow in Taehyung’s way. “You literally said that you watched the Lord of the Rings a month ago.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So?” Namjoon repeated, and the tick in his jaw represented the snapping of his patience. “They have the exact same plot!”

You found yourself drifting from the rest of the conversation again, as some of the other boys began to chime in. On your lap was a notebook you realized you’d been scribbling in with a pencil while the others had been talking. It was hard to decide which was more concerning— the fact that you’d so effectively tuned out the boys, or that you were only vaguely aware that you’d been drawing at the same time.

You felt someone studying you in your peripheral vision. Jungkook decided to finally nudge you. “Not interested in fantasy novel series?”

“No, I—just spaced out for a second,” you answered lamely.

His earlier grin morphed into a slight frown. “Are you okay?”

Am I okay? “Yeah.”

His gaze dropped to your open book, widening a little in mild surprise. “I thought you said you couldn’t draw.”

“I don’t. Art class was an ironic choice that way.”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin said as he leaned over Jungkook to get a better look. Slowly, the others turned their attention towards you too. “This is pretty good.”

Hoseok, who was one of the ones in closest proximity to you, stretched out his hand so you could pass him the book. “Woah.” He went through a few various facial expressions, a lot of them where he scrunched up his eyebrows. “What’s the inspiration behind that?”

“Probably not those dry as hell books,” Taehyung retorted.

Namjoon didn’t hesitate to shove the loud mouthed boy off of the bench, earning more than a few laughs from everyone. Taehyung shot him a glare with an offended hey! 

“Nothing,” you answered him. “I just got distracted.”

The notebook was now in Namjoon’s hand and his expression was contemplative as he fixated his eyes onto the page. “You got distracted and absentmindedly drew this? With no idea in your head?”

“I had a dream.” You gave a shrug, stealing a few potato chips from Jungkook’s snack. “So, I drew it.”

“A dream like this?”

You looked back at him, trying not to frown. “Why, is it that weird?”

“Not weird,” he assured. “Just… a little unusual. I’ve never met anyone our age who would come up with stuff like this from their subconscious.”

“Who’s the boy supposed to be?” Yoongi asked after the book got rotated to him.

“I don’t know,” you answered. There hadn’t been a real chance to glimpse the boy from that scene. All you remembered was the black hair and the white shirt he was wearing as he stood looking out the only window in a plain room with only a mattress and white flower petals scattered on the floor. “Some random guy, I guess.”

“Everyone we see in our dreams are people we’ve seen at some point in our lives,” Namjoon said.

You gave this a considerative hum. Though you knew maybe thirty people who could fit in that description. “Well, I don’t remember then.”

“Let me see,” Seokjin said, taking the book in his hand. A moment later, his face morphed into something you couldn’t quite decipher. But it was like for that moment, he had understood something without realizing it.

“Why the hell are so many people out here at this time?” Jimin spoke up as a few students or groups of them began to appear on the field or pathway, spilling out from the building. “This is when it’s supposed to be the quietest here. I was looking forward to not seeing… pretty much everyone.”

“It’s not like we own this place,” Jungkook reminded him.

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “As long as the bright young things don’t show up…“

And just like on cue, the group of cheerleaders and jocks were walking on the opposite side of the field. You didn’t let your attention linger on the old group of friends you didn’t want anything to do with anymore. But as you glanced away, Yoongi caught your eyes as though he knew what you were thinking.

“Way to go, Jimin,” Hoseok said, giving the boy a light shove. “You just manifested it.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat. “Seeing them this early in the day is really bad for my digestion.”

“Who told you to shove two chocolate muffins down your throat?” Yoongi said to him, referring to the now empty plastic container sitting beside you. You’d made a large quantity of them the other day and after recalling how Hoseok had liked your baking—and all his following requests over texts to make more— maybe the others would like something too. 

The younger boy didn’t acknowledge the harmless judging tone he’d used. “My inner subconscious, which by the way, I have no regrets about.”

“It’s great how you can say that so confidently about something in your life,” Namjoon said with slight skeptical wonder.

“Y/N made those muffins for us with all her heart and soul—“

“Actually, it was just flour and sugar...” you mumbled though your voice was mostly lost under theirs.

“I was just displaying my gratitude,” Taehyung said finally.

“The muffins were actually really good,” Seokjin said to you as he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to you. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Y/N’s a good baker,” Hoseok affirmed before looking at you. “How long did you say you’ve been at it for?”

“Not that long.” You twisted your dyed blonde hair into a bun and slid the pencil you’d been drawing with through it to hold it in place. “I just picked it up this year.”

Taehyung looked at you with a grin. “I guess I’ll have to annoy you enough at work to get stuff for free.”

You returned it with an exaggerated smile. “You come to work during my shift, I’ll have security ask you to leave for harassment.”

His mouth fell open. “B-but I’ll tip!”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “You’re ridiculous.”

With his arms folded over his chest, he glanced around sombrely. “This is how brittle friendship is, I guess. Like a dark chocolate bar.” 

Namjoon, hiding his amusement with an arched brow, said, “Taehyung, remind me to never ask you for poetry recommendations.”

“Hey.”

Everyone seemed to fall into a silence, realizing that voice didn’t belong to any of you. They turned their heads towards the new arrival, but you didn’t have to look to know who’d approached the table. At first, you thought you could get away without saying anything, but the rest of the boys were casting imperceivable glances in your direction. Finally, one of the others did what you didn’t want to.

“Hi,” Namjoon said to the boy who’d once been the closest to you.

Min-hyuk stood there, as though expecting you to eventually say something to him. Then he looked around the group, smiling his friendly, star quarterback smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m Min-hyuk.”

“We know who you are,” Yoongi said, the cold undertones in his voice not going unheard by anyone. Leave it to him to keep things harsh but real.

Min-hyuk, probably not used to hearing that kind of tone with that sentence, stared at the boy, a little dumbfounded. “Oh…”

Namjoon—you reminded yourself to tell the guy what a blessing he was— stepped in again. It was probably good that it was him who was leading the conversation. You’d learned by now that none of the others were quite as sensible and level headed when they needed to be. “What he means is, do you need something?”

“Can we talk, Y/N?” Min-hyuk asked finally, the question you’d been dreading, because now it was explicitly directed at you.

You held back a defeated sigh and said, “I have class in a few—“

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

He seemed to be somewhat satisfied when you looked up at him and nodded just imperceptibly. He started to move away from the table, and you made a move to follow when a hand gently closed around your wrist.

“You know, you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Jungkook said quietly but firmly. His eyes held something like concern, and gazing around the table, the others wore similar expressions.

“Yeah,” you said. “But he won’t stop until I do.”

Jungkook released his hand from yours, watching as you got up and walked over to where Min-hyuk was waiting.

You put your hands in your pockets, right away saying, “Let’s get right to point this time, shall we?”

“I left you a note the other day,” he said, not happy with your attitude, but not able to say anything to it either. “You didn’t reply.”

“That was you?” you asked, dumbly. “I didn’t realize.”

“Come on, Y/N. Who else would write you that?” He paused. “My mother said she saw you at the hospital yesterday. Is everything okay?”

You didn’t meet his gaze, instead mostly looking at the ground. If your eyes drifted around too much, you were afraid to see that other students were watching you like a movie scene. You knew that the seven boys you’d just left were certainly doing that. “Uh huh,” you answered, without any emotion.

Min-hyuk held back an impatient noise. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I just want to know you’re doing fine.”

This time, you did look up to meet his eyes. “Why?”

“Why?” He was partly taken aback with surprise at your response. “We might not be together anymore, but it’s not like I just don’t care all of a sudden.”

“You didn’t care before.”

He stared at your expression, like he was wondering if you meant it. “Do you really think that?“

“You were never on my side.”

“What?”

Before, this would’ve been hard for you to talk about, because you’d only ever avoided it. To think about it would make you think about all the times you knew you should’ve walked away, the times that you stood there and just took everything when you knew you deserved better than that. But maybe it was time to rip the bandaid off. How long were you going to go back and forth like this? How long was he going to try to hold on to you when you wanted out?

“You wanted to know where it all went wrong,” you spoke. “How about when you stood there and let everyone, even our own friends, say all those things about me. And when I asked you to trust me, you didn’t.”

“It wasn’t that simple.” He shook his head. At least he had the decency to look apologetic, to sound like he meant what he thought. “I–I wanted to trust you—“

“I think I see it now.” It was taking a lot of courage for you to finally say what you needed to say, and now that you finally found it, you didn’t even care that other people were watching or listening. “We were both so good at acting like everything about us was perfect. And as soon as I stopped, things changed. The difference between us is that one of us still pretending.”

“Min-hyuk!” One of his friends from the football team—one of your former ones— came up beside him, tapping his shoulder. He looked at you with the kind of friendliness that was reserved for any random student in the hallway. “Hi, Y/N. What are you guys talking about?”

Min-hyuk seemed to have nothing to say, his gaze on you fixed, but his mind on the words you’d spoken. You were glad you had the ability to leave him speechless, to see him actually opening his eyes to a world outside that bubble he lived in. The bubble that you’d also been a part of, but were now glad to have found a way out.

“Well,” you said to both of them. “I have class now.”

With your bag over your shoulder, you turned and headed for the building without paying attention to any of the stares that followed you.

By the end of the day, that courage and energy that had allowed you to speak up to Min-hyuk had dissipated. Hopefully, he wouldn’t approach you again any time soon. Was it asking too much to not be approached by anyone else at all?

Now, you were standing in front of the doors to the pool once again, looking inside, but not having the courage to go in. It was almost a metaphor for your life. You were standing on the outside of a part of your life from the past, not being able to actually go in and see it properly.

Yoongi’s figure materialized next to you, not saying anything at first as though he could tell you were deep in thought. So, you broke the silence first and asked, “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” he answered. “Guess which asshole of a teacher decided to assign us a 10 page paper due in less than a week?”

Glancing sideways at him, you grinned. “The one who probably has hypertension from having to teach you?”

He shot you a dry look, but the corners of his mouth twitched a little like he was also holding back a grin of his own. “You’re hilarious, princess. But also probably right.” He noticed your attention on the pool on the opposite of the doors. "What, are you not allowed to go in or something? Weren’t you on the swim team at some point?”

Instead of answering, you turned away from the doors and started walking down the hallway. “Weren’t you on the basketball team?”

As Yoongi walked alongside you, subtle surprise appeared on his face. “It’s been a while since anyone’s asked me that.”

“You were captain of the team too, right?” you asked. “That’s how I knew you.”

Something else flickered across his face, though you didn’t know what it was. To you, it was probably the face you wore when you were briefly and vaguely recalling something in your mind.  “Well, it’s always nice to hear that my reputation precedes me. And not just as a gothic, underground rapper.” He ignored your subtle roll of eyes. “I played shooting guard actually.”

You hummed, remembering all the basketball games you attended in the gymnasium with your old friends. As part of the cheerleading team, you’d had an obligation to be there, but some of the games actually got interesting to watch. The first time you’d noticed Yoongi was when one time you’d been running late and had been trying to not fall behind the rest of the team. You remembered dropping one of your pompoms while trying to tie your hair up, and in passing, he’d picked up and handed it to you. You didn’t think he remembered it, and maybe it was a little embarrassing that you did. 

“You were good too.” You stopped near the front doors, most of the students walking around you with no interest since it was the end of the school day. Yoongi shot you a slightly puzzled look. “I was a cheerleader, remember? I’ve been to a bunch of games.”

“I remember,” he said after a moment, and it didn’t sound like something you’d say to someone just to blindly agree with them, so that was why you ended up meeting his gaze. There was something underneath those deep gray eyes that you didn’t really understand, but somehow, still found it startling to hold eye contact.

You half forced a chuckle to move the attention away from you. “Besides, it’s kind of hard to miss the only guy on the team with dyed blonde hair.”

He chuckled. “I almost forgot about that.”

“How could you forget? You were literally my inspiration,” you said, gesturing to your own bleached hair. When he threw you a dubious side eye, you shouldn’t have been surprised. Surely, that would’ve tricked one of the other boys. “Alright, fine, you didn’t. You know, I definitely do not miss the 5 hour practices, or the tiny uniforms or Yuna screaming at some younger, clueless girl to stop slacking.”

“But the outfits were so cute,” Yoongi teased, and though you were glad the topic changed, you shot him an unamused glance. “It was a joke. On a related note… what did the ex-boyfriend want earlier?”

You arched a brow and held back an amused grin. “You can say his name, you know.”

“Yeah, but that would give him too much significance. Unnamed means unimportant.”

You hummed in agreement. “Nothing really.”

“Is that why you ditched us afterwards without so much as a word?” he asked skeptically.

You tried not to sound irritated about it, but you’d hoped you could make it through the day without having to talk about it. “I ditched you, because I wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated about it.”

“How quickly you assume we would interrogate you.”

“Well, wouldn’t you?”

“Fine,” he grumbled after some seconds. “At least 3/7ths of us might. Can you really blame us for being curious? It looked kind of intense.”

Folding your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a grin forming on your lips. “Remember how you said you didn’t care? Well, it’s starting to sound a little like you do.”

He scoffed. “Please. You mistake my blind curiosity for something it isn’t.” He watched you a little longer as you shrugged before saying, “Remember when you said I was good at deflecting? You’re not so bad at it yourself.”

A part of you thought that this was a good time as any to actually talk about it. About how you’d cut things off with Yuna and Min-hyuk, and why you’d wanted to. By now, you felt like you could tell any of the seven boys and they’d listen—actually listen—and Yoongi, despite coming off as aloof and indifferent, wouldn’t judge you or anything. But this recent bond with them felt like a new and good thing, and you just didn’t want to jeopardize it, like you did with most things.

"Do you a need ride home?” Yoongi asked when he realized you were too deep in your head to say anything else about it. “I’m giving Jungkook one too, so I can drop you off after.”

“You go ahead,” you answered. “I have some stuff to do first.”

At first, he seemed almost reluctant to leave you alone, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t insist or comment on it. It would contradict his indifference to most things. Only after he left did you turn and start aimlessly walking down the other side of the hallway. It wasn’t like you had anything to do. You just weren’t sure if you wanted to be around anyone with curiosity like Yoongi’s lingering above your head. Talking about yourself and your personal life was never fun.

Eventually, you ran into another familiar face. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Namjoon said as he approached you in the hall.

“If this is about this morning, I’d rather not talk about it,” you decided to say immediately because if anyone could get answers from you by asking the right questions, it was probably Namjoon.

Fortunately for you, Namjoon could’ve read that from a mile away and wasn’t one to pry. He nodded in understanding. “I figured as much. Oh, hold on a second.” From his backpack, he drew out some loose papers tucked into a notebook. “I went through some of these to find whatever was legible enough.”

You scanned the writing briefly. “Your English notes?”

“Yeah, I remember you said the last class went over your head.” 

“I just don’t understand why it’s bought and not buyed, but it’s walk and walked? Like why can’t they can’t follow the same rule for every past tense conjugation?” you complained, but still a little touched that he remembered something you’d probably said in passing. “But thanks.”

“Also, if you see Taehyung, can you let him know I can’t walk home with him today?”

You nodded. “Sure. Staying back for extra work?”

“No, I—I have a shift today.”

You wondered why he sounded reluctant to answer. “Where do you work?”

“It’s a library,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s on the other side of the city, so I like to leave a little earlier.”

You shot him an amused grin. “Were there no libraries nearby hiring? Because I know if they saw your GPA, they would not hesitate.”

“Uh, this one has a nicer collection.”

“Alright,” you said, deciding not to question his responses since he hadn’t questioned you. But for some reason, it felt like he was trying to hide something. “See you tomorrow then.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks, Y/N.”

As he walked away, you had to stop the curiosity from getting to you. It truly was an ordeal to be so curious and not want to intrude upon things that didn’t concern you. You had to remind yourself that it was better that information came to you at the right time rather than forcing it. At first, the reminder was about other people, but sometimes, you thought it was also about yourself.

After exiting through the west doors, you noticed Taehyung at the bottom of the staircase right outside the building. He was leaning against the railing, hood over his head and concentrated on whatever game he was playing on his phone. You slowed your steps, approaching the stairs. “You’re still here.”

Taehyung glanced up at you, slipping his phone into his pocket as you came towards him.  “Waiting for Namjoon. The kid’s a genius, but his punctuality could use a little improvement.”

You quirked a brow. “Kid? He’s older than you.”

Folding his arms over his chest, he said pointedly, “And I’m older than you. So how about you don’t question me?”

You had to bite back a smile at his antics. It was hard to believe sometimes that most of these boys were older than you. “He told me to tell you he has work today, so he can’t make it.”

He let out a loud and dramatic groan, practically cringing at himself. “For real? I probably look like some idiot, waiting on the stairs for his even more of an idiot boyfriend.”

You shrugged, not hiding the smile this time. “Just a little.”

He looked back at you. “How are you getting home? I’ll walk with you.”

He already started walking, expecting you to follow, so you didn’t get a chance to reply. With a defeated sigh, you decided to go after him.

Your first mistake was choosing to walk all the way home instead of taking the bus. Your second mistake was letting Taehyung take the lead, because that boy looked like he’d never had a plan a day in his life. While you somewhat admired the spontaneity, you were used to routine or a plan of some kind. Although you did suppose that this year, everything that had happened, and was happening now, was not planned at all.

“I’ve never gone this way before.” 

The buildings were older and a bit worn away, but almost in an intentional manner, posters and signs on the gray brick walls. You passed several small shops and restaurants and cafes that despite appearing quaint seemed very cute. The people that walked by were all in their own worlds, not so much as glancing at you or anyone near them. It was something like a secret tourist spot or a hidden gem.

“Really?” Taehyung said. He walked on your right, but a little ahead. You wanted to say it was because he was leading the way, but that presumed he knew where he was going. “This street’s pretty cool. Hidden away from the centre, though, so you don’t really know about it until you come yourself.”

You removed your eyes from an old bookstore with a chalkboard sign outside. “You must do a lot of exploring, huh?”

“Whatever gets me out of the house.” He stopped walking abruptly. When you stopped to ask what was wrong, you saw a mischievous smile form on his face. “I just had a brilliant idea.”

“Why am I kind of doubtful?”

Despite the many, many questions you asked, Taehyung didn’t answer any of them. He could try and be mysterious if he wanted, but you wouldn’t buy it, was what you said to him. Instead, you waited outside while he went into a convenience store for a few minutes. You shouldn’t have been so surprised when he emerged with a plastic bag in hand, full of bottles of spray paint. You opened your mouth to ask what he was planning, but he just tugged on your arm and made you follow him around the corner.

The street you stopped at had to be somewhat of a visual arts scene, because you recalled passing arts and crafts places and small galleries, and the wall that stood in front of you now was a graffiti wall.

“This is so cool,” you said in awe, all thoughts of skepticism at Taehyung’s actions gone. Your gaze roamed over the various artwork and writing, painted on by different kinds of paint and people and minds. It was like an anonymous outlet for creativity and self expression, something like in the olden days when things like freedom of expression was outlawed, so people had to get creative around it.

“I love all kinds of art,” Taehyung said, dropping his backpack and crouching near the ground. “But graffiti has become more interesting recently. Here.”

You looked to see that he was holding out a can of spray paint for you. “This is vandalizing.”

He half scoffed, half laughed. “This is an artistic statement.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive, Taehyung.”

“Relax, Y/N.” He placed the can in your hand himself after he decided that you wouldn’t take it, then took another out of the bag for himself. “I’ve done this billions of times. You won’t get caught.”

Despite yourself, there was an urge in you to just do it, get your hands a little messy. That was why you liked to bake after all, wasn’t it? That was why you chose art class. You could make a mess and make something good out of it. You could control something instead of being controlled. But turning back to the wall of art and messages and stories, you hesitated. “I can’t paint like this,” you tried lamely.

Taehyung shot you a look. “I saw your sketch today. It was far from shitty.” After a minute of waiting, he sighed. “Fine, I’ll go first.”

The way he walked up the an empty section of the wall with confidence, how he shook the paint can and effortlessly began to draw strokes in red paint told you that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d done this a lot. 

When he finished, he stepped back to where you stood, briefly appraising his work before saying, “Your turn. Don’t think too much. Just whatever’s on your mind, let it out.”

So, you found yourself closing your eyes briefly, and releasing a breath before stepping forward. You pushed on the paint can’s nozzle and let your mind take over for your hand and for a few minutes, all that was heard was the faint car engines in the distance and the spraying noise of the paint. Finally, you let your arm drop to see what you’d made. It was a pair of blue wings like a butterfly’s.

Taehyung studied the wall for a moment before humming, “Interesting.”

“By interesting, you mean awful.”

He shot you a look. “By interesting, I mean interesting. You and Namjoon might like to have second meanings to your sentences, but I’m a simple guy.”

“Uh huh.” You watched him move back to the wall and start painting something else. It was funny how before you’d known him, you had him pegged for some kind of reckless skater boy with a rebellious streak. He was actually more of an artsy boy with a rebellious streak. “I guess it would be easier if everyone wasn’t always pretending to be something they’re not.”

“Was Min-hyuk pretending to be a super nice guy again?” He only glanced over his shoulder at you when he didn’t get an answer. Of course this topic would’ve inevitable come up although you’d also assumed Taehyung would avoid uncomfortable conversations whenever he could. “None of those guys are all what they show. It’s good that you hit one of them. You might accidentally activate some part in the brain that knocks some sense into them.”

You nodded at this, slightly amused. “If that was how neurobiology worked.”

“Let’s experiment. Hit me over the head really hard and tomorrow, let’s see if I pass my math test.”

You were holding back a laugh when your gaze fell on part of his drawing. “Is that your signature?”

“Oh, that... it’s kind of like my alias,” Taehyung said almost like it was embarrassing for him to say. This must have been the first time he’d told someone about his side hobby. “For when I’m out painting.”

“For when you’re out vandalizing,” you remarked.

He mocked the face you’d made earlier and said, “They’re not mutually exclusive, Y/N.”

You let out a scoff, but couldn’t hide your amusement. “What does it mean? The V?”

“It’s short for Vante.”

You hummed. “Interesting.”

“You mean interesting good or interesting bad?”

“I mean interesting,” you said, deepening your voice a little to mock him.

The side of his mouth curved into a grin. “Touche.”

Returning your attention to the wall, your eyes began to study the various drawings, fleetingly going back to another wall and another drawing. “You haven’t seen anything like the hwa yang yeong hwa we saw before, have you?”

“No,” Taehyung answered, then gave it another thought. “Not that I’ve been to a lot of graffiti places outside of this area. But from where I have looked around, it’s made me think that maybe this... Smeraldo person isn’t a regular graffiti artist.”

“As in, this was just a one time thing for them?”

“Maybe.”

“I guess that means it’s not just graffiti we should be looking at,” you speculated. “It’s definitely a start but could be any art form.”

“Or maybe the art is just a way to get it out there.”

You frowned. “Meaning what? Someone’s trying to say something? To send a message?”

He shrugged. “It’s possible, yeah.”

His attention refocused on the drawing he’d started, but your mind began to run through possible explanations. What if somehow someone was trying to say something? More importantly, what if someone was trying to say something to you?

The sun was beginning to lower by the time you reached Taehyung’s place. You didn’t even realize the two of you had been out for a while with his detour idea. 

You tilted your head up to observe the apartment building complex. Since you’d never been to this part of the city before, you couldn’t say much about it. But by the oldness and the obvious low maintenance of the building, you guessed that the rent was affordable. Taehyung, like you, wasn’t one of the richer kids of the Academy. You supposed that the talent that had gotten him in was art related, if not painting specifically.

“Is this where you live?” you asked to break the silence.

“Yup,” Taehyung said, popping the sound at the end. “Home sweet…” He trailed off a little as his faraway gaze crossed the building, instead turning back to you. “Do you live close by? I can walk with you.”

You made a dubious face. “Are you sure you want to walk there and then all the way back?”

“Hey, I may be lazy, but I’m not that lazy.”

“I don’t need protecting, if that’s what you were going to say.”

He scoffed. “Obviously not. You broke a guy’s fucking jaw!”

“It wasn’t actually broken,” you muttered before shaking your head. “Wouldn’t you rather go home? Your parents are probably waiting for you.”

“No one’s waiting for me.” Before you could say anything, he waved it away, his long hair hiding the expression on his face you were trying to read. “It’s fine. Forget it.”

But he didn’t make a move to walk towards the complex’s stairs that led up to the first floor. Even as you stood there for another minute and he just stood with you, you realized he wasn’t about to head home regardless of if you left now or stayed. And for a moment, you wondered if this was what he had meant that day weeks ago. No one’s waiting for me. It was a thought that had held a place in your mind for a long time too.

It’s better not to force information you don’t even need to know, a voice in the back of your head reminded. Finally, you said, “Are you hungry? I could go for some coffee, and the Brew’s not far from here.”

Taehyung turned to look at you. If he was grateful for the chance to avoid going home, he didn’t show it. “Will you give me a discount?”

“If you stop talking, I’ll pay for your entire order.”

The carefree smile that stretched across his face as he started dragging you towards the next street was enough for you to know that he was, in fact, at least a little grateful.

chapter vii // chapter ix (coming soon)

[yunatheintrovert]

nothing but damaged goods [Perseus/Fem!Bell Red String Soulmate AU]

All that heralded his presence was the tightening of the red thread around your neck along with a light pull on the thread itself. You had felt the red string tighten and loosen every so often from the day you had woken up to the pitch blackness.

“You remember my voice, don’t you?” 

You leaned your head towards the direction of his voice. His voice was obviously accented. 

Russian. 

And deep down, you knew who he was. 

You heard his voice time and time again. 

How could you ever forget it?

Don’t trust Adler. 

You heard heavy footsteps by your bedside before the screech of the metal chair nearby moving against the floor. As you awaited what was to come, you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why were you saved?

You were a traitor, who divulged the plans regarding Solovetsky to Adler and his team. 

Even now...if you were given a second chance, you still would have told them. 

The only thing you would have changed was making sure Adler really did shoot you dead at that cliffside. 

Because you knew deep down, whatever Perseus had planned for you was worse than death itself.

No mercy was spared to traitors, after all. 

And so the noose tightens, you mused as the red thread constricted more and more around your neck. With each and every step he took closer to you, you felt it tighten. 

Was it yet another side-effect of MK Ultra? A manifestation of your past and guilt?

Regardless of the underlying cause, it had become so great a pressure that you would have a hard time speaking if you attempted it. Although, you hadn’t attempted to speak ever since awakening to the darkness around you.

You grew tense when you felt a gloved hand gingerly brushing against the area where the red thread was tied around your neck. You could feel the leather rub against the sensitive imprint left on your skin by the noose of crimson thread around your neck. 

Eventually, you felt his fingers move slightly downwards. It was a gentle yet firm pressure against the steady pulsing of your carotid artery at your neck where your noose rested. 

There were a thousand different ways you could see him killing you.

Crushing your windpipe, snapping your neck, strangling you with those large gloved hands-

Traitor, traitor, traitor. 

Yet all you heard was a sigh coming from the man beside you.

“Прости меня.”

There was something...off in this voice, almost mournful as if regretting something. You couldn’t understand what he was saying though. You...you knew Russian in the past. But now it felt like something was missing.

Brain damage, you guessed. 

“Американцы схватили вас, и вам промыли мозги. Теперь ты вернулся.“

You blinked in confusion.

Was he trying to give a speech on how he regretted ever trusting you in the first place? And that he was going to strangle you slowly and painfully with the pillow under you while watching the life drain from your opaque eyes?

Really, you didn’t know if Perseus gave a speech to every person or traitor he was about to kill. But you were rather impatient. 

The anticipation was killing you really. 

“I…” you trailed off before coughing. Your voice was still hoarse from the lack of use and medication shoved into you for days on end, “I told them about Solovetsky. I betrayed you.” 

You tried your best to relax, anticipating a sudden violent tightening of pressure on your neck. 

“Больше никто не должен этого знать.” 

“I...I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you confessed honestly. If he was trying to get you to confess intel, he would have no luck with that. Looking back on it, you had no useful intel on the operations of Adler and his team. All the background information you were given was most likely either highly specific or made-up in the process of MK Ultra.

“Of course, you don’t, comrade,” Perseus said, this time English. You could have sworn you heard the faint sound of underlying amusement in his accented voice. 

“Я хотел защитить тебя. У такого человека, как я, много врагов.” the Soviet suddenly said, his tone rather...different this time. It almost sounded like a confession…

Was he admitting that he planned on killing you all along with or without Arash finishing the job for him?

Suddenly, you heard him laugh, although his voice sounded anything but entertained, “Я бы сам справился с Арашем, если бы знал, что он задумал в Трабзоне.” 

In fact, he sounded rather murderous with that last sentence of his…

Perseus must have been telling you about how he would execute you because of your betrayal at Solovetsky. 

“Я больше не совершу ту же ошибку.” 

You tilted your head towards the direction his voice was coming from. Perseus sounded...determined in a similar way you had heard him speak in the one memory you had in that meeting with him and the rest of his associates. 

Wait....was he waxing poetic about bringing the downfall of the West once again?

You sighed as your hands tightened in their grip on the cotton sheets of your bed. You really just wanted him to get over with what he was going to do. 

...unless he wanted to interrogate you for information.

Even then, he wouldn’t gain anything.

You were nothing but damaged goods. 

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the sensation of leather brushing against the thin red string around your neck, shifting it lightly.

You vaguely noticed how it was more of a necklace now than a stifling choker. 

A loose noose, you laughed silently to yourself. 

You felt an ever so slight bit of pressure applied more against the pulse point of your carotid artery at your neck. You closed your eyes even though you could see nothing as it was, waiting for the inevitable.

But all you heard were his words. 

“ты никогда не умрешь, душа моя.”

________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: ...I came up with this idea at 2am, talked about it a bit with a friend, and now...well now I officially ship Perseus/Bell. It’s also official now that I multiship Bell XD. I hope Perseus wasn’t too OOC in this. Personally, I hate my writing but this was a plot bunny stuck in my head and I also desperately needed at least one fic involving Perseus/Post-Solovetsky!Bell. 

Also, here’s the translation notes in order that they were said (courtesy of Google Translate. Apologies to any Russian-speakers who may read this fic):

1. “Forgive me.”

2. “You were captured and brainwashed by the Americans. You’re back now. “

3. “No one else has to know that.” 

4.  “I wanted to protect you. A man like me has many enemies.”

5. “I would have handled Arash myself if I had known what he had planned in Trabzon.” 

6. “I will not make the same mistake again.” 

7.  “You can never die, my soul.”

Well, I hope y’all enjoyed reading this. Thanks for reading!

[cruciatusforeplay]

This is part two of a hella big post. Check out part one here. These are all a lot more recent, so I'm gonna try to be less spoilery, but there are gonna be some.

A not-so-brief history of Hawkeye in Comics Part Two (spoilers below the cut)

A note on events, dying and doubling down on Hawkeyes

Comics love doing big events, and I'm not covering them in here. Partly because they are huge and complex and to just focus on Hawkeye would be an injustice to the stories, but also because the amount of stuff I would need to spoil would be way beyond just a little Hawkeye. Clint was involved in Secret Wars (1984), which was one of the first crossover events of its kind. Another notable era is 2004-2009, where there is an incredible amount of superhero politics driving big narratives. If you're new to comics, you might not know that characters dying is common and rarely permanent. This is relevant because while I said that I wouldn't talk about events, I think it would be pretty uncool to not mention that Hawkeye dies and is brought back to life (Avengers Disassembled, House of M, New Avengers #26). It's around here that Clint picks up the Ronin mantle.

This is also when Dark Reign/Dark Avengers is going on. For anyone who'd like some Clint whump from this era, there's a top notch naked torture scene in New Avengers Annual (2009). Clint is involved in several other big events and crossovers over later years, but that's definitely a seperate list.

In the time where Clint is dead, Captain America is hanging out with a group of newly formed Young Avengers, including archery badass Kate Bishop. Cap suggests to her that she take up the Hawkeye mantle and gives her Clint's old bow. After Clint returns, he becomes initially her mentor, before they form a very close friendship. Clint is initially doing Ronin things, but even when he lays down ninja robes, they decide to be very Hawkeye about the whole thing and both keep calling themselves Hawkeye, despite the obvious confusion this causes.

Hawkeye's ears: Hawkeye vs. Deadpool #0-4 (2014)

This is a fun little miniseries that you could treat as a Halloween special if you so desired. It's set in the time after Fraction's run and there are a few callbacks, but nothing major if you've not read that. Clint is a little short-tempered and hypermasculine in this run for my personal taste, but it's got lots of grumpy Clint Vs sassy Wade while they vaguely attempt to team up. The thing this run does really well is Clint's deafness, despite the lack of visible hearing aids. There are comments around lip-reading, wearing aids when wearing other headgear, there's some sign language, and this is the run where Deadpool pulls his mask up so Clint can lipread and see his face while he signs (facial expressions are really key in sign language). It's lovely. Otherwise the run gives you a Kate cameo, some Deadpool and Hawkeye disaster/shenanigans, and perhaps most importantly, the return of the skycycle.

Key background: All New Hawkeye #1-6 (2015)

This run is often overlooked, but the art in the flashbacks is beautiful. We get some key information around Clint and Barney's abusive home situation - with their dad who drank and beat them, and how they ended up in care after their parents died, and subsequently their early days in the circus. There is a definite shift in how Barney is characterized as a bad influence compared to the 2003 run. It parallels with the rest of the arc which focuses on Clint and Kate Bishop working together to get some kids out of a very bad situation. The rest of Lemires run is a little weird and has no major repurcussions for anyone except Barney (which I won't elaborate on because it's relevant to the Fraction run).

Back to your roots: Tales of Suspense #100-104 (2017)

Seeing Clint cycle back and return to Tales of Suspense is really lovely. This comic is one of my all time favourites. It's incredibly tight story-telling with a great plot and really fun dynamic. The premise is Clint and Bucky teaming up to figure out the body trail being left after Black Widow's death. Clint is obnoxious and a delightful mess, Bucky is sporting a permanent scowl and is hilariously level-headed. It's a lot of fun and it's a lovely build on the tension and teamwork between these two idiots (who I, as an avid Winterhawk shipper, am completely gone for, but even without that, this is a great comic.) It also has some killer covers, and the facial expressions are absolutely hilarious.

Hawkeyes together: Hawkeye #13-16 (2017) and West Coast Avengers #1-10 (2018)

The Hawkeye run is Kate Bishops run and it has a larger continuing storyline that runs from the beginning of her Hawkeye and way into WCA, but I've listed the issues that you'll want for Kate and Clint shenanigans, and you should be able to catch up without the rest if you don't want it. These comics are ridiculously fun, especially West Coast Avengers, which has Kate leading the team this time. There's loads of jokes, and it strikes a nice balance between Hawkeyes being disasters and being hyper competent. Truthfully, this is Kate's show, and Clint takes a backseat, but their dynamic is killer here so I think is deserves a mention. There are also plenty of Clint related wardrobe malfunctions and Lucky the Pizza Dog is around.

Our most recent boy: Hawkeye freefall #1-6 (2020)

I haven't read this one yet, but it's been extremely well received by the fandom. As a result, good news: no spoilers! It's a short run, which may have had something to do with it being published during 2020, and specifically around a time when Marvel were experiencing some major distribution issues (which would have led to digital release only and as a result lower sales), but that's all guesswork because I haven't actually researched it. This run has someone dressing as Ronin and letting Clint take the blame for their nefarious deeds (oh no!). Clint makes some classic Clint (read: dumpster fire) decisions, and the art looks fun and vibrant. Can't really give you more without reading it myself 😅 If you need more Clint still, he's also rumoured to be knocking around in the 2020 Black Widow run, but I've not had the money to get my mitts on that yet either.

Notable AUs:

Marvel is a big fan of throwing a well known cast into an alternative universes, so there are a few other places to look for him.

The Ultimates universe was largely speaking a bit of a shitshow, but they did give us a very dark and gritty Clint, so if that's your jam, ultimate hawkeye is the place to be. Old Man Hawkeye appears alongside Old Man Logan, and they are both, you guessed it, old. It's not the only time we get Clint as a wrinkly dude (the second half Lemire's run also has some timey-wimey stuff happening), but this is a version of Clint who is going blind (granted we've seen that before too, but this is a darker vibe than Blindspot). Wanna know who the greatest marksman is without his sight - old man Hawkeye for you! Finally there's the Zombie 'verse: zombie Clint is a little confused, but he's got the spirit. Clint got zombiefied and then left in some rubble as only a head for 40 years before getting picked up, so he's a little worse for wear. If you need that in your life then Marvel Zombies is your universe. For a full rundown of all the universes including animated and MCU, click here.

Notable aliases:

Clint's been a few other people than Hawkeye in the 616 universe (the main Marvel Comics universe). He used one of Hank Pyms growth serums and became a giant strongman in Avengers #63 (1969) and stuck around in his Goliath form for more than a few issues. After Cap had died, Clint returned from the dead and tried on Captain America for all of one issue in Fallen Son #3 (2007). He decided (with a little help from Kate) that it wasn't right to wear the uniform, which in turn led to some interesting tension between him and Bucky Barnes when Buck did become the new Captain America. Finally, there's his most well-known alternate persona: Ronin. Clint becomes Ronin after returning from the dead, wanting a break from his Hawkeye persona and an opportunity to become Ronin arises in New Avengers #27 (2007). Clint is not the only person to have used these aliases. Additionally, Hawkeye has been used not only by Clint and Kate Bishop, but also by Bullseye during the Dark Reign.

The things we haven't talked about

Like I said at the very beginning, there is a lot of Clint Barton knocking around in comics and even with all this there's a lot of content I haven't focused on. For instance, I've not talked a lot about his relationships, beyond his marriage to mockingbird (and really I only scratched the surface with that), and honestly once you start getting into interpersonal relationships we're starting to move on from what can be done in a Tumblr thread.

There are also some topic specific threads floating around, which you might like to look at too.

@vaguelyrotten has done a run down of some great dumpster fire Clint Barton comics (some of which I haven't listed) and you can see that here.

@bobbimorses did a great summary of Clint's historical deafness for instance which you can find here.

There's also this little bit all about Clint and Bucky in canon (thanks to @nightwideopen ) and how Winterhawk became a thing (thanks to @1000-directions )

This is slight sidenote, but @clintscoffeepot did a really great comprehensive of Fraction Clint's apartment which is just a really useful writing resource and you can get that here.

There is also this website which I stumbled across fairly far into writing this post which does actually look like it might be comprehensive.

If I've missed anything major, or listed something incorrectly or you just have some Clint related opinions that I need to know about, do hit me up.