#i just comment my thoughts and excitement on upcoming characters and there are ALWAYS x character haters who feel like their greatest

[drysauce]

another day, another pointless argument with meta slaves on genshin leaks subreddit

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Delicate Part. 5

Gwayne Hightower x Reader

Description: Hoping to sway her heart to him, Gwayne gifts Y/N with an heirloom of House Hightower. Gwayne displays his willingness to defend his lady when a Lannister lord insults her at a banquet. When Y/N, Gwayne, and Alicent go too far into their cups at the Tourney banquet, Gwayne makes sure the object of his affections makes her way back to her chambers safely.

Writer's note: Thank you to everyone who follows this series! I really appreciate all your lovely comments and the support for the ace rep, I just really wanted to see myself in a character. I'm so glad it resonates. And a special thanks to @just-some-random-blogger for your iconic commentaries!

Warnings: Female reader. Touch averse and Asexual reader.

As Gwayne pushed back the tissue paper of the box he was holding, a sense of doubt entered into his thoughts: that his gift might seem presumptuous to Lady Y/N. That it might displease her. Having shared his feelings about her friend with Alicent, she had been excited at the thought of her dear brother and best friend forming a union that would mean she would not have to part from either of them. Despite his attempts to temper her excitement by reminding her that the likelihood of Y/N accepting his suit or returning his feelings for her was minimal at best, he was unable to entirely repress his own joy at the picture that Alicent was painting of their potential future.

To have his two favourite ladies always with him would turn the ghostly halls of his ancestral seat into a paradise he scarcely dared to imagine becoming a reality. Still, her increasingly affectionate gestures towards him made him tentatively hopeful that such a future was not altogether impossible. He resolved to try and win her love if he could. With these thoughts in mind, he had sought to find a way of expressing his hope that she might accept his suit for her to become his wife and Lady Hightower one day. After first running the idea past Alicent, he had sent a raven back to Oldtown, requesting that one of his mother’s emerald encrusted necklaces be sent to him, forthwith. By making good on his previously expressed hope that the three should all wear green to the opening banquet, he hoped also to convey his earnest wish to Y/N that she would, one day, not only wear the colours of his House, but also belong to it.

Walking towards the library, where he knew he would find his love, he could not quash his fear that she would reject his gift outright, either frightened or displeased by his suit. He did not wish for her to feel that by accepting his gift she was also obligated to accept his love, he only hoped that she would permit him to try and win her love. This gift was intended to be a subtle indication of his hopes, without overwhelming her with outward displays of affection, which he knew would only serve to make her uncomfortable.

Upon entering the library, he immediately spotted Y/N ensconced within a dark corner of the room, the candles bolstered to the walls casting an ethereal glow across her features, which had him momentarily arrested in place by her beauty. Recollecting himself, he strode towards her and met her smile with his own, as she looked up from her book, hearing him approach.

“Ever studious. I wonder what you can be reading so intently. Plotting how to best me at the upcoming tourney, no doubt.”

Y/N laughed at this, before indicating that he sit in the chair next to her.

“What brings you to my sanctuary, Ser. Should not you be terrorising the other knights with your charm?”

Gwayne smiled affectionately at her, enjoying the joke that she had continued since they met, which had him secretly hoping she really did find him charming. Nevertheless, he sought to invest his voice with the levity that her tone suggested.

“Alas, there are plenty more hours in the day for me to do so, but I must first terrorise you with my charm.” He smirked at her, a glint in his eye, in an attempt to seem less nervous than he really was. Removing a deep green, velvet box from his tunic, he tentatively held it out to her.

“May I entreat you to accept this humble gift, in the hope that you will wear it at this evening’s banquet?”

A quizzical look passed over Y/N’s features, but she nonetheless accepted the box, carefully opening it and removing the papers that protected his family heirloom. Y/N emitted a small gasp at the beauty of the necklace she held in her hands, before her eyes snapped up to meet Gwayne’s uncharacteristically anxious expression.

“Gwayne, this is beautiful.”

Gwayne released a breath he had been holding, relieved that she should think so, before she continued.

“But I cannot accept such a gift.”

His heart momentarily stuttered before plummeting, as he feared she was rejecting his suit for her love outright, believing his gift to be presumptuous. He was relieved when she explained.

“It is far too beautiful and precious to be given to me, no doubt it is a Hightower heirloom.”

“The beauty of the trinket, I think, should befit that of the wearer.” His mouth upturned and his heart swelled as a light blush dusted her cheeks.

“You did promise that we should all wear green for this evening’s banquet, I distinctly remember. I would be honoured if you would accept this token. Both Alicent and I wish for you to accept it.”

Holding her gaze so that she would know that he really meant for her to accept the gift, whilst simultaneously attempting to convey the love he felt for her, in his eyes, he anxiously awaited her answer.

Her returning smile, as she clipped the chain around her neck, had his heart soaring at her acceptance of his gift and the image of her wearing his ancestral heirloom.

“I will gladly wear it then, if it so please you and Alicent. Thank you, Gwayne. It’s beautiful.”

Gwayne could not but think that the wearer was far more beautiful than the necklace she admired, but he rejoiced that she had accepted his gift and he grew hopeful that she would, one day, also accept his love.

Y/N placed her hand upon the cool chain around her neck, admiring how the green gems glittered and complimented the emerald gown she had chosen to wear at that evening's banquet. She had worn the gown partly as a homage to her and her two friend's constant refrain that they should all wear green to match one another. More than that, it was also her way of expressing her love for them and her intrinsic sense of affinity with their house. House Hightower's motto, 'We Light the Way', well expressed how much her friends had become a light in her own life, amidst the shadows of Court life. Before she had befriended Alicent and Gwayne, she had felt entirely alone, both within Court and within her own family. Now she was scarcely alone, always either accompanied by Alicent or Gwayne or both.

She had come to particularly value Gwayne's attentiveness, always eager to listen to anything she had to say and considerate whenever you spoke of her troubled family life or her fears for the future. His gift of a Hightower heirloom that morning had moved her greatly, seeming to suggest that he valued her friendship as much as she did his. She could not deny that she also hoped his gift might intimate that he harboured stronger feelings towards her, that it might symbolise his desire that she should one day join his and Alicent's family; the only family she could ever envision belonging to.

She quickly pushed the thought aside, rebuking herself for her presumptuousness and foolishness. Whilst she had found herself quickly falling in love with Gwayne, she resolved that she could not hope to ever marry him, even should he desire such a match. She would never be able to fulfil the expectations of intimacy required of marriage, the thought alone causing her intense anxiety. She would merely have to be content with loving him quietly, without imposing her feelings on him, when she could not hope to be the marriage partner he, no doubt, sought. The idea of him marrying another caused an intense feeling of pain to constrict her chest, but she knew that she had no right to such a feeling, and strove to squash it as it rose.

A knock at the door disturbed her from her thoughts and she called for whoever had knocked to enter.

"The Hightowers await your presence, my Lady."

A degree of nervousness seeped into her heart at the thought that Alicent and Gwayne might not like her dress, might think it too transparently a symbol of her emotional affinity to their House. Nonetheless, she would not leave them waiting, and she quickly turned on her heel to meet them at the entrance to her father's apartments. With trepidation, she entered the main hall to meet her friends and her heart was warmed to see them both dressed in green, matching each other.

Gwayne had spent the rest of the day at the training yard, after Y/N's acceptance of his gift, in a half-dazed state of happiness. The thought of her wearing his mother's necklace, the heirloom of his House, led him into potentially dangerous fantasies of her accepting him as her husband and becoming the future Lady Hightower. Perhaps he could convince his father to allow Alicent to return to Oldtown, so that the three could live together. He tried not to allow himself to be carried away by such visions of future happiness, but Y/N's sweet acceptance of his gift had him struggling to contain them. He did not believe that she yet fully understood the import of the gift from his side, symbolising as it did, for him, his hope that she would one day become part of his family. That she would be his wife. However, he hoped that her acceptance of the necklace could yet be a positive sign of her warm feelings towards him, and that he may yet hope to further cultivate them into a love like he bore for her.

Ahead of the tourney, set to begin the next day, Gwayne had dressed in a green velvet tunic. Alicent had similarly dressed in a silk, green dress, both in the shade of the lights of the Oldtown watch. As they made their way through the Keep towards Y/N's apartments, he could not but hope that she, too, would be wearing the colours of his House, and that he could hope to see her wearing his gift. The very thought of such a divine image left his stomach in knots, and he could scarcely conceal his nerves from Alicent, as she looked up at him with a knowing smile. They had barely been waiting a moment within the entrance hall to Y/N's apartments before she emerged in a forest green, velvet gown, the exact shade of his House colours, his mother's necklace glittering against her throat. The sight of her beauty, and the vision it conjured of her as the future Lady Hightower, had him opening and closing his mouth several times. A hit to his arm from Alicent reminded him that he must look like a fool in front of the lady he so wanted to impress.

"I'm so glad you decided to wear green, too, Y/N. We match perfectly!" Alicent cried, clasping her hands together delightedly, before embracing her friend.

At Y/N's sweet smile in both of their directions, Gwayne was once again at a loss for words, before a slight fall in her expression, perhaps at his silence, had him recalling himself.

Holding her gaze in the hope of conveying the truth of his feelings for her, which he dared not yet vocally pronounce, he addressed her with a level of adoration he did not attempt to conceal from his voice: "You are a vision, my Lady. I should like to always see you wearing the colours of my House."

Her light blush at his words lit a spark of hope within him that his feelings for her could one day be reciprocated. If he could convince her that he only wanted her, not anything she had been led to believe would be expected of her from marriage by her father and the Court, he could yet hope for his vision of her as his wife to become a reality. Her presence before him in his House colours, wearing his mother's necklace, seemed to him to be a happy harbinger of such a future.

Holding his free arm out to her, with more confidence now, knowing she would accept it, he felt a degree of contentment he had never before experienced, as he led his sister and his beloved to the banquet.

As the Hightower siblings and Lady Y/N entered the main hall of the Red Keep, a slight hush fell across the hall at the sight of them atop the stairwell. The matching shades of their dress, and their united front, arm-in-arm, recalled to the minds of many at Court tales of the lights of the Hightower watch burning green, when called to action. The three descended the steps and approached the end of the table reserved for the Hightowers. Gwayne was forced to slow his pace when he noticed that his love had stopped walking, tugging lightly on his sleeve.

He sought to ascertain the reason for her hesitant expression, as she looked between himself and Alicent.

"Should not I sit elsewhere. I am not a Hightower."

Realizing the reason for her hesitation, even as he quickly refuted it in his own mind, since she was already so deeply embedded within his own heart, he sought to reassure her.

"Not in name, but you are our dearest friend and we should be honoured by your presence at our table." He was quickly supported in this by Alicent nodding and pulling Y/N's arm forward, affectionately.

Rewarding him with a beatific smile, Y/N allowed herself to be led to their end of the table by Alicent, as Gwayne held a chair out, first for his sister, and then for his beloved. He held her hand and gaze longer than was strictly necessary, as he led her to her seat, before he seated himself in between his love and his sister.

The evening turned out to be one of the most enjoyable Gwayne had ever passed at a Court proceeding, as he spent the majority of it laughing with his dear sister and lady love at the antics of the Court's lickspittles and sycophants. Gwayne had both ladies doubling over with laughter at his description of Tyland Lannister's 'bizarre mating dance', as the fool continued to try and capture Alicent's attention. As the Lannister approached their table, Gwayne ineffectually gestured for the ladies to quiet their laughter, as they continued to break into it every time they made eye contact with each other. A condition made worse by the amount of wine Gwayne and Y/N had consumed, much to Alicent's disapproval.

Ostensibly unperturbed by their ill-concealed mirth, Tyland Lannister confidently swaggered up to their table, until he stood directly opposite Alicent. Holding his hand out to her, he pushed his chest out as he asked her to dance, seemingly assured of her ready acceptance. Gwayne sensed the danger when Alicent made eye contact with him and knew it was all over when she turned to Y/N, as they all broke out into laughter again.

Alicent was the first one to rally herself into some semblance of respectability, wiping her eyes of the tears that her laughter had elicited.

"I am sorry, my Lord, to have to decline your kind offer. I will not be dancing with anyone this evening."

Tyland's expression darkened as he surmised that he was the cause of their inordinate mirth. Realising that Tyland still stood before their table, a threatening presence before his sister, Gwayne decided to take control of the situation, and redirect his anger towards him.

"The lady has declined your offer, my good man. Be so good as to move away from the table, you are blocking the ladies' view of the dancing."

He said this with a light, but firm tone, which made clear this was not a request.

Growing irritated at the Lannister's continued presence before her friend, who she could see was becoming uncomfortable under his gaze, Y/N lost her cool.

"It appears that the lady does not care to partake in your particular dance, Ser. Did you not hear her decline?"

At the emphasis Y/N placed on the word 'dance', Alicent and Gwayne broke out in laughter again, at her reference to Tyland's 'mating dance'.

That was before Tyland addressed Y/N, directing a cold glower towards her.

"I do not remember asking for your opinion, Y/N."

Gwayne was immediately on his feet, glaring into Tyland's face, with fury behind his eyes.

"I think I just heard you address the Lady without the proper respect due to her, Ser. I would advise you to remove yourself from both ladies' presence before I am forced to do so."

Both Alicent and Y/N were surprised to see Gwayne so incensed, having never been on the receiving end of his anger, and Tyland seemed similarly surprised at his anger, taking a step back from the table.

Begrudgingly offering his apology to Y/N for the insult, he stalked away from the table. Gwayne did not return to his seat until Tyland had made his way back to the centre of the room, continuing to glare in the direction of his retreating back. Alicent pulled him back down to his seat by his arm, retaining a comforting hold on it. He patted her hand affectionately, and reached out to take Y/N's hand, which she quickly placed within his own.

"Pay him no mind, Gwayne. He is only a fool in Court clothing." Alicent said comfortingly, patting his arm. Gwayne nodded in response, looking down at her affectionately as he tried to calm his breathing, still angered by Tyland's presumption towards his sister and his rudeness towards his love.

Y/N squeezing his hand helped to calm him from his rage, as he turned to her, looking into her eyes with a look of earnest concern.

"I hope you were not distressed by that fool's behaviour, my Lady. I can have another conversation with him, if such be the case."

Correctly predicting by the emphasis Gwayne placed on the word 'conversation' that Gwayne meant more of a physical, than a verbal, altercation, Y/N indulgently swatted him on the arm.

"There will be no need for that, my good Ser. I think we have all effectually put that peacock in his place."

The feeling of her soft, delicate hand still placed within his own, and her playfully affectionate gesture, served to calm Gwayne, whilst her jest had them all breaking out into laughter again. Gwayne gazed down at her, the bell-like sound of her laughter filling his ears, as his eyes glittered with the love he felt for her.

The sound of muffled laughter could be heard, as Gwayne and Alicent made their way back through the Keep towards Y/N's apartments, with Y/N in tow. Both Gwayne and Y/N had drunk far more wine than was sensible, Y/N not having realised her limits, as she continued to stumble her way forward. Her movement was only made more haphazard by her inability to stop laughing at Gwayne's impression of Tyland's mating dance, as she wheezed, holding onto her stomach. When she nearly fell, as they rounded the corner, Gwayne caught her by her elbows and held her up.

"Steady, steady, how many fingers am I holding up?" he smirked at her, raising three fingers to her face.

She smiled blearily at him, before responding delightedly, "five!"

Gwayne chuckled indulgently, shaking his head as he looked downward, before sighing.

"Nothing for it, I shall have to carry you, though I can scarcely stand myself. You are to be blamed as a bad influence. If I had not been trying to best you, my Lady, I should still be in full possession of my cognitive and physical abilities."

Attempting to swat his chest, but missing, nearly careening past him, had not he caught her again, holding her waist with one arm, she laughed.

"I thoroughly bested you Ser, let there be no doubt."

Smiling at her, finding her antics adorable, he assumed a mock serious tone of voice.

"I would never be so bold as to suggest it, my Lady. Now if you could kindly get onto my back, I hope we might return you to your chambers before morning comes."

Turning away from her and lowering himself, he held his arms out behind him to lift her, as Alicent helped Y/N get onto his back.

They made it approximately half way up the turreted stairwell to Y/N's apartments before Gwayne, inebriated himself and laughing at the situation they found themselves in, slipped on a step, hitting his knee. A look of alarm crossed his face as he turned to assess whether his fumble had harmed his lady, but it was quickly replaced by a grin of amusement, as she swatted his head.

"Stupid horse, what do you mean by falling. Get up at once."

"Apologies, my Lady, your horse is not feeling very steady, himself." Laughing, yet secretly rejoicing at her touch, and that she should feel so safe with him, as she leant her head against his back, he raised them both and continued up the stairs. Whether by the grace of the Seven or Alicent's skillful steering of her brother and friend, the three managed to make it to Y/N's apartments in one piece. Hugging Alicent and patting Gwayne's head still, it seemed, under the mistaken notion that he really was a horse, Y/N retreated behind the door of her apartments. As the Hightower siblings turned to go back through the Keep to their own apartments, Gwayne wrapped an arm around his sister, a gesture of affection which also ended up being necessary, as he was now passed the point of being able to make it back in the right direction to their own apartments.

Waking up the next day with a headache, Gwayne couldn't find himself feeling sorry for it, when it was the result of a night of such merriment and joy with his sister and lady love. He had dreamt of Y/N standing at his side in his own ancestral seat, as his wife, and had awoken hoping that she might sometimes dream of him too. With such a happy thought to buoy him up, he rose and began to dress for the first day of the tourney, hoping that his lady's headache was not as bad as his own. At the thought that she could be suffering from one, he sobered a little and resolved to make a stop by the kitchens before he made his way to the tournament.

A knock on her door, early the next day, had Y/N grumbling for her maid to enter, her head throbbing from her indulgence at the previous night's banquet. Entering quietly, the maid bought a tea to Y/N, which she looked at quizzically.

"Thank you, but I don't believe I requested this."

Lowering her head in deference, the maid informed her that Ser Gwayne Hightower had brought it up personally, assuring her that it was a herbal remedy sure to cure her symptoms from the previous night's merriment. The maid also handed her a note, which Gwayne had left with the tea.

My Lady,

I do hope your pretty head does not hurt quiet so much as mine does, although I am assured by your stalwart claims to have bested me last night that it does not. I do believe I knocked mine own on several walls on my way back to my chambers last night, as if the wine were not already enough to give me a headache for several years. I swear by the efficacy of this tea for curing all manner of ill incurred by indulging in too much wine. I do hope you will be well enough to honour me with your presence and support at today's tourney.

Remember that your knight will require someone to charm, should his fellow knight's prove impervious to his charms. That failing, I shall allow you to carry my sword for me when I inevitably drop it, since I can barely see straight to write this missive.

Yours, most faithfully,

Gwayne

Laughing at his note, even as his consideration for her wellbeing caused her heart to flutter, Y/N rose to begin getting ready to meet Alicent on her way to the tourney stands to watch Gwayne compete.

As Gwayne urged his horse forth in a canter, in procession behind the other knights competing in the tourney, his heart soared at the sight of his sister and lady smiling down at him and cheering for him from the stands. Stopping below the balcony they were seated at, he called up to them, a boyish grin illuminating his features.

"Good morrow, fair ladies. Would my two favourite ladies care to grant their champion their favours, so that he may hope to compete with their blessing?"

Taking Alicent's handkerchief from her, Y/N passed both of their handkerchiefs down to him, and he quickly caught both in his grasp, smiling gratefully up at them both, before directing his horse to continue forth. Despite his nervousness at competing in his first tourney outside of Oldtown, the sight of his sister and beloved's favours tied to his sword belt made him feel as if he was already on the way to winning the only prize he truly cared for, the heart of his lady.

Both girls had anxiously held each other's hands in their laps as they watched Gwayne compete against knights twice his age, concerned for his safety. They soon found themselves cheering, however, at Gwayne's series of victories, both in the jousting and with the sword. His age did not seem to be a weakness, rather, it seemed to lend him a boldness and unpredictability in battle, which had the other knights struggling to anticipate his next move. Every time he took a hit, both ladies would hold their breath, before he would be up again, rounding on his opponent with a tenacity they had little expected for one so young and inexperienced in battle.

By the end of that day's tournaments, Gwayne had emerged the victor in many a fight. Instead of going to the podium directly beneath the King's balcony to receive the markers of his victories, he ran straight towards the balcony that his sister and lady were seated upon.

"Are you sufficiently pleased with your champion's victories on the field today, my ladies?"

Laughing at him, Y/N leant over the balcony, folding her arms on the railing, to address him.

"Your ladies are sufficiently pleased by your victories, good Ser. We shall expect you to do equally as well on the morrow."

Gazing up at his love, she appeared almost as an angel above him, so much so that he was nearly too stunned to speak. He hoped that she was impressed by his performance that day and that his victories might also go some way to convincing her that he would be a suitable choice for a husband, as someone who could protect her and would defend her with his life.

Winking at her, with a charming smile, he met her light tone with his own.

"Depend upon it, my sweet Lady, this knight shall not disappoint you."

With that, he reluctantly turned from her back towards the King's stand, the King having been left unexpectedly waiting whilst Gwayne had bypassed him on his way to meet his lady.

@liafiction @madamewhitesnake @rebeccawinters @ateliefloresdaprimavera @beebeechaos @darknessinside11 @read-just-cant @ganymede-princess @a-dorkier-book-keeper @leptitlu @ambrosia-v-black @labellapeaky @deltamoon666 @just-some-random-blogger

[jillsandwhichs]

RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 7 , Gentle Mornings

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Chris Redfield (RE6)

Summary: Chris wakes you up and surprises you with breakfast in bed. And if that wasn't enough, he fucks you against the kitchen counter : D

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Dating

WC: 2.6k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Kissing, Dirty talk, Clit rubbing, You cum on his fingers, Kitchen sex, Unprotected PiV, Spanking, Hair pulling, He finishes inside of you

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

"Wake up beautiful."

You could hear the deep voice faintly, you knew it was Chris. You are so tired though, more sleep'll do you good. You could lay in this comfy bed forever and be content, but alas.

"Sweetheart, get up." Chris said softly.

You could feel his gentle big hand caressing your upper arm-it made you feel all warm inside. Chris is very physically affectionate, which you love. Being touched is something you also enjoy, more-so than being the toucher. Chris is like a bear-he's large and cuddly. "Baby, I'd love for you to open your eyes." At this point, you were being stubborn and you could tell just by his tone that he knew. "Don't make me make you." He teased, patting your butt.

Ultimately, you opened your eyes.

"Hi." You chuckled, sitting up and adjusting to the light in the bedroom. The curtains were spread apart, the light was on and the TV was on too-all so glimmery. "Hey princess, good morning." Chris laughed, stroking a few pieces of loose hair from out of your face. "Did you sleep good?" "I did. I slept very good actually." "Good." Chris smirked, leaning in and kissing your cheek gently. He is in such a good mood, it's odd. Of course, he always tries to be positive but this is just weird, especially considering it's... You checked the clock. Nine in the morning...

Analyzing the room, you noticed a tray of food set on the white dresser the two of you share. You were curious as to what it was.

"What's that baby?" "Oh, the food? Well baby," He stood up and grabbed the tray carefully, scared it may tip over just by one wrong move. "I made you breakfast." Chris said kindly, sitting on the edge of the bed once again. Did he really? How sweet of him. The only other time he's ever done this was on Christmas a few months back. "Sweetie, really?" You spoke in awe-he is truly the best. "Thank you. Why though?" You tittered, picking up the fork-you were ready to dig in. "Just thought you deserved it." He whispered, caressing your lower leg.

The plate had all sorts of goodies on it. Toast, eggs, fruit and sausage, it looked amazing. You were still somewhat confused as to why Chris suddenly decided to do this for you but either way, the gesture is out of this world.

You are excited to eat. Funnily enough, you are starving first thing when you wake up since you don't eat before bed, it's as if he read your mind. "Just eat up honey, I'll be out in the living room, okay?" "Alright." You gave him a quick nod as you took a bite of the steaming, smokey meat. Chris grinned, he was glad you were happy. "Good, love you." Chris pressed a kiss to your small nose before exiting your guy's shared bedroom. "I love you as well." You shouted, making sure he could hear you good.

You'd eat then go see him, that's the plan. You began to eat as fast as you could, you now just wanted to spend your morning with him before he has to leave for work at ten.

-

The breakfast he made you was immaculate. Chris is an amazing cook, definitely better than you are. You finished it rather quickly too, surprisingly. All that was left on your plate was a couple scrambled eggs but other than that, it was totally clean.

You hopped up out of bed with a grunt & a yawn-you were still pretty tired. Plate in hand, you walked out of the bedroom.

Down the hall, you could see Chris. He was just sitting on the couch, checking out one of his stupid man magazines that he gets weekly. He noticed you were done and whistled, seeing you walk out in just your shirt and panties. "Hey hot stuff." He teased, tossing the magazine down and getting up off of the couch. "Hi." You smiled from afar, setting your plate down in the empty sink-he even did the dishes!

Ambling towards you, you couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. His face tucked itself into the crook of your neck. He placed soft, warm kisses all along it. "Mmm, I love you." What has him in this type of mood today? "I love you so much but Chris, why are you being like this?" You chortled, setting your hands on top of his, his were resting on your lower tummy. "Because I love you, is that an issue? Can I not love my girlfriend?" Such an ass.

"Babe, don't be dense," You snorted, "Trust me, I love this, you just usually aren't this lovey dovey, that's all." "Well I'm feeling it today." His kisses moved to the back of your ear. You can't deny it, it's turning you on deep down.

As he kissed all over your face from behind, you felt his large hands begin to trail downwards. The shirt you are wearing is oversized and long, but you knew he'd continue. Once his finger tips were just above the waistband of your panties, he stopped and whispered, "Can I?" Um, of course he can.

"Mhm." You mumbled. Your hands were holding onto his wrists, you didn't know where else to place them. With a groan, you felt his hand slide down the outside of your panties. His thick fingers were right above your covered clit. You were wet and you knew he could tell. "So soaked for me, hmm?" He whispered in your kiss, planting more kisses onto it. "Mhm." You giggled, your breath shuttered as he pressed down onto your nub. "I wanna fuck you so hard right now." He growled.

You two literally fucked last night, he is such a teenage boy. "Did you not get it out of your system last night?" "Oh I did, but you build it back up so easily." Chris chuckled. He began to slowly rub your clit through your panties. His fingers are magical. "Oh." You seethed. Your head tossed back as he caressed your clit quickly. "Feels good?" "Yeah..." You whimpered. It was hard to keep your eyes off of his hand. It was fascinating-how he would please you.

"You gonna cum for me baby?" That condescending tone he gets when he knows he is ruining you. "Shut up." You huffed out, earning a snicker out of him. "You know I'm just messing with you."

Chris rubbed it even faster. Your legs were shaking already. Your clit felt like it was going to explode. That inevitable firey feeling in your stomach was evident, it was burning-a burning passion for Chris. The breakfast in bed, the dishes being done and his loveyness? Yeah. It was no surprise he was also going to wind up fucking you.

A few more caresses-and it was your undoing. You loudly moaned, your legs shaking and your back arching automatically. Chris hummed, kissing the back of your head a couple times as you came just by him stroking you. "That's my girl." He commended you, enjoying how fast you finished for him.

Suddenly, you squealed as he bent you over the kitchen counter. You've never fucked in a kitchen before, this is new. "What're you doing?" You questioned him. The sound of his fly being pulled down was heard. "Fucking you, what does it look like?" Chris chuckled, bringing his hand to your ass and squeezing it. You giggled and simply rested your head against the cold, polished counter.

You bit your lip seductively. It's so early in the morning, how could he possibly be in the mood already? You aren't complaining though. You could feel him pulling your panties down your legs til he left them at your ankles-a hard slap then came to your ass. You could hear him pulling his sweatpants down as well, he was wasting absolutely no time. "I'll be gentle, at least at first." Chris teased. You giggled. He knows how to make you laugh.

Chris's hand went to your ass, gripping onto it for support. Chris has a love for your ass, he's always been more of a butt guy. "Mmm." You heard him moan out from behind you. You knew he wasn't going to waste any more time-foreplay was non-existent.

You could hear his hand pumping his cock. He gets turned on so easily. You remember the time you simply walked out in a messy ponytail and a pajama set and not even a minute later, he was deep inside of you. You two fucked very early on into your relationship-its not surprise it happens so often in your relationship.

"You sure I can?" "Yes baby." You chuckled, spread your legs slightly more, wanting him inside of you already. You could hear him whisper something beneath his breath. It sounded like he said "Fuck." But it was hard to tell. Chris is absolutely enthralled by you. He's obsessed with you, just as you are with him. You felt his tip tease your entrance-instantly arousing you furthermore. "Oh." You winced. You were fighting the urge to push yourself into him.

With his hand on your ass, the other around his dick, you moaned softly as he entered you. Your body accepted him with grace. The way you wrapped around him directly after said so much. You were made for him-that is how you feel at least. "My God," Chris hummed, both hands squeezing your rear. "You're so damn tight." Those words are like music to your ears. You didn't really know how to respond. Dirty talk has never necessarily been your forte. "You feel good." You whispered whilst nestling your head against your arms.

Feeling him felt like heaven. He's not too long nor too big, he's just right. You've missed this-despite it only being a literal day since you two made love.

Chris began to pull out of you. He was slow with it. He dragged it out so long. "Chris." You whined. Feeling every single inch slip out of you was tortuous. You just wanted him to rail you-hard. All you got in response was a snicker. He's such a prick sometimes. A sexy one though.

Once his tip was practically out of you, he slammed back into you. Your entire body was shoved into the counter, causing you to wince. Both of his hands held onto your waist firmly. Each thrust was exuberant. You loved how he used you. His pleasure meant everything to you. You can't get enough of the idea of him being fulfilled. He deserves it. His hands caressed your midriff with each movement.

All you could do was relax and let him use your pretty little pussy as he pleases.

Your head was resting against your cold arms-the counter being even cooler. Each time he pounded into you, your hood thrusted against the counter. While it wasn't the most pleasant feeling, the feeling of him being buried inside of you countered it out. He's so good at this. He's always been practically a God at fucking you. He makes you cum way to easily.

"Baby." You moaned, your eyes closing and mouth becoming permanently agape. You felt a wack come to your ass as his speed increased, along with the power of his movements. He is already leaking inside of you. You could feel his member twitching, just begging for that lovely release. Making love like this, oh it'll never get old. "Just keep taking it, princess." He muttered. His fingers were slowly yet surely making their way up your back, trailing ever so slowly.

"I can't..." He stammered. "I cannot get over how good you feel, God, you're soaked." He huffed out. You began to push yourself against him, therefore he wouldn't be the only one working. You heard him grunt & moan. It felt good to know you could please him just as he does with you.

For a moment, you could tell he quit his movements. Now, it was all you. You pushed your ass up against his man hood, moving and twisting in all sorts of ways, just attempting to bring him closer to his peak. You wanted to make him feel all sorts of ways. "You are so sexy." You heard him mumble. His deep, scratchy voice has always been so attractive. "Say more." You moaned. You wish you could be staring at him in this very moment. You wanted to see his face as you made him moan & grunt and overall made him feel perfect.

"I love you."

"I needed this."

"You're so pretty, baby."

Gosh.

Everything he said just made you feel euphoric.

As you felt his hand nuzzle itself into your hair, you whimpered. With a tug and a thrust, he was suddenly fucking you like literally never before. He was holding your hair tightly. Your head being forced backwards, all you could do was let it happen. It felt so good. He was moving so fast now, so hard too. "Good girl." Chris whispered. You could tell just admiring you. Taking the sight of you in. You were his drink and he was dehydrated. He needed this just as much as you did.

You could feel how deep he was inside of you.

Each pump, you felt like he was bruising your insides. His girth brushed against your clenched walls. The movements brought you closer and closer with stroke. You needed to release. It was becoming way too much.

"I'm gonna cum." You panted out. You could feel it-your orgasm stirring up inside of you. "Cum for me baby." Chris grunted. His free hand came down and squeezed your ass before smacking it-that was what finished you off.

Arching your back even more than before, you whimpered quietly as you came all around it. Your fluids coated the entire base of his dick. "Fuck." Chris chuckled, caressing your rear. "Such a dirty girl." The way he spoke, so intense & sexy. "I'm gonna cum too." Chris moaned.

He let go of your hair, allowing you some freedom. You held yourself up now, both arms resting on the counter to uplift you. His head went to the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath on your throat-it was hot and he was close. "Gonna cum so deep inside of you." "Oh." You moaned, tossing your head back slightly, feeling him plunge into you at a non-human rate.

He did not lie.

Shortly after, you felt his semen shoot inside of you. Right as he came, he simply stilled inside of you. It felt so interactive, so pleasurable. "Mmm, dear Lord." He snickered. He kissed your neck a few times, breathing in your intoxicating, feminine scent. "That feel good?" "So good." You giggled.

Chris pulled out of you and immediately grasped you, holding you up. It's like he knew. Your legs were weak & wobbly. You felt like a balloon. "I gotcha sweetheart." He laughed, kissing you gently. The kiss was so sweet. He takes care of you, even after such rough and intimate moments. "We should shower." "Good thinking." Chris whispered.

Your boyfriend picked you up into his arms and off you two were to the restroom.

Hopefully while he's at work, he won't be able to get his mind off of you and it'll be just like this when he arrives home...

[oph3liatlou]

— THE SHADOW WARRIOR series

CHAPTER TWO; Quinnjet

pairing(s); recovering!buckybarnes x oc!victoriastark

warnings; light swearing

word count; 1,363

proofread?; yes.

note from author; link to wattpad, link to character's spotify playlist (comment songs also!), find the full masterlist here.

summary; In the depths of Africa, the mysterious nation of Wakanda has reached out to the outside world for help. A mission has been set in place for Victoria Stark, to save Bucky Barnes - the former brainwashed assassin - from his past self. Can she rescue him from HYDRA's grips as the world watches and waits or, will he forever be lost to the shadows?

Victoria had to get ready for her mission that she had been tasked with. She headed back downstairs to see her father, who had just finished fixing up his suit.

Tony turns around as you enter the workshop, wiping his hands on a rag. "Done pouting upstairs?" He's trying to keep it light. The tension between you has been growing for months. He needs to fix it, but he just doesn't know how.

She rolled her eyes. Their relationship was always sarcastic banter but sometimes, he didn't agree with her decisions. Especially when she avoided his monthly functions. "I wasn't pouting." She stated, leaning on one of the shelves. "I got a mission so, scratch my name off the guest list for tomorrow night."

Tony's smile fades. He looks at you for a long moment, his expression going tight. He's not happy about you skipping yet another event. But rather than start an argument, he asks instead, "Where are you headed?"

"Wakanda." Victoria answered, not elaborating.

Tony's eyes widened, a slight flicker of surprise crossing his face. Wakanda? He hadn't expected that. "Why?" He tries to keep the tension out of his voice, but there's no hiding the concern in his eyes.

She was happy that her father hadn't started giving her attitude about her not attending the party. "Steve's friend, Bucky." She started to explain. "He's in Wakanda, the Princess is treating his conditioning - trying to demolish the Winter Solider." Victoria shrugged. "You know me and advanced technology. He thought I could help...and he wants a friend there."

Tony's worry eases slightly. He knows about Bucky, of course. The Winter Soldier, the infamous assassin. Helping to undo what HYDRA did to him wasn't something he objected to. And he understands the need for support.

He gives you a small nod. "Alright. Keep me updated. And...Victoria?" His voice goes soft. "Be careful."

She nods, turning back to the door. "Oh, and I'm bringing FRIDAY with me."

Tony raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement returning to his expression. "Bringing the bots, huh? Trying to show off your tech prowess, aren't you?" He smiles, glad to see you a little more lighthearted for the first time in a long while. "Alright. Just watch out for Wakanda's tech. They've got stuff that will knock even you on your ass."

Victoria chuckled at his comment. "You better up your own game, then." She rebutted.

Tony gives you a wry smile. "Don't worry, kid. You forget who you're dealing with here. I'll have some new goodies for when you return."

He crosses his arms. "Now, get out of here. Before I change my mind about letting you borrow Friday."

She grinned. "Yeah, yeah." And with that, she left the workshop - her feet echoed on the floating stairs that shifted under her feet as she made her way to her room to get her gear.

As Victoria ascended the floating stairs to her room, thoughts of the upcoming mission start to swirl through her mind. She begins packing her gear, making sure she has everything she might need in Wakanda. As she sorts through her supplies, a mix of anticipation and apprehension fills her. The unknown always holds a thrill, but it's also a constant reminder of the dangers that lie ahead. Despite the nerves, she can't help but feel a sense of excitement.  She's eager to see Wakanda's advanced tech and how it compares to Starks. As she packs, she notices two pictures. One is of her as a kid, asleep in her dad's embrace, and the other is her and Tony, taken not long after, on their first successful mission together. They're a team. She smiles softly before placing both pictures safely inside the bag.

With all the essentials packed, she heads towards the garage. The Quinjet is waiting for her, already fueled and prepped for takeoff. As she approaches, she can see the familiar shape of Friday's housing unit being loaded into the jet. 

"All ready to go, Tori?" She asks, her voice filled with anticipation. "I've already downloaded a comprehensive database on Wakandan technology. It's quite impressive."

Victoria nods gently, though Friday can't see her. She was secured in an earpiece in her ear. "What else should I know? About Barnes, about Wakanda...?"

"Barnes' condition is improving with the help of Wakanda's healers and tech. They've already managed to dismantle some of the indoctrination that HYDRA instilled in him," Friday informs. "As for Wakanda, they value their privacy and highly protect their technology. The Dora Milaje, the warrior women, are formidable and will likely keep a close eye on us both." She pauses. "Oh, and the food is fantastic."

Victoria chuckled. "Sadly, I'm not going there for the food." She paused when both her father and Steve stood at the entrance of the Quinjet.

Tony and Steve stood near the Quinjet, watching as Victoria approaches. Tony's expression is a mixture of concern and pride, a look she's seen time and time before. Steve, ever the serious one, nods in greeting. The two men can't help but worry about your well-being, especially for this mission.

"I'll be fine, yeah?" She said to the two of them, in reassurance. She turned to Steve. "I'll bring your best friend home."

Tony gave a small nod, his expression softening, but the worry remains in his eyes. Steve, however, gives a small, almost imperceptible smile of approval.

"We know you will," he reassures. "Be careful in Wakanda. And don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Victoria nodded. "Sure thing." She went to go into the jet before turning back around and hugging her dad.

Tony is taken aback by her sudden show of affection. His eyes widen slightly before he quickly composes himself. He hugs her tightly, ruffling her hair affectionately. It's a rare moment of parental vulnerability from him, and he cherishes it.

"Stay safe," he whispers, holding her close for a moment more. "We still have plenty to argue over when you get back."

She chuckled. "Yeah, like who let you wear those shoes."

Tony playfully rolls his eyes.  "Kid, these shoes are a fashion statement. You wouldn't know style if it smacked you in the face." Tony pulls back, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looks down at his worn-out sneakers, a comfortable staple in his wardrobe. "Besides, these are just... comfortable."

Steve, still standing nearby, can't help but chuckle at the exchange between the two. It's moments like this that remind everyone of the family bond they've formed over the years.

Victoria walked backwards onto the boarding ramp and snickered. "You do realize, I'm the one who did most of the draft designs for your suits?"

Tony gives her a mock-indignant look, his hand over his heart. "Are you saying my suits are outdated?" He feigns hurt, though the playful glint in his eyes reveals his true feelings.

"Maybe we should leave the redesigning to the professionals," he quips with a grin. "Besides, we can't all pull off the casual sneaker-and-suit look."

Steve piped up, waving goodbye to me with a chuckle. "You definitely can't, Tony."

Tony rolls his eyes but can't resist a smile. "Keep it up, Cap. I could always program Friday to play baby shark on infinite loop in your helmet next time we're in the field."

"Hey Friday, keep that as a note." Victoria chuckled loudly...getting onto the Quinjet.

Friday's holographic form appears, shimmering beside you. "Noted," she assures Victoria, her voice filled with digital amusement. "Any other requests for Captain Rogers, while you're at it?"

Victoria smiled. "I'll think of something."

With a final farewell wave, the Quinjet's door seals shut behind her. She's enclosed in the sleek interior, the hum of the engines signaling that the adventure is just beginning.

As the Quinjet soars into the sky, heading towards the unknown lands of Wakanda, Victoria is filled with mixed emotions: excitement, anticipation, and a touch of anxiety. But as long as she's got Friday and her wits, she knows that she's ready for whatever comes her way.

[hyeahgaku]

JUMP GIGA Winter 2023 Special Interview with Yūto Suzuki-sensei!!

First JUMP GIGA 2023 cover to commemorate SAKAMOTO DAYS reaching its 100th chapter milestone since its serialization!!

In-depth discussion with Suzuki-sensei about his life and work, so on and so forth!!

Please tell us the things that you paid particular attention to when drawing the cover illustration of this GIGA issue.

Suzuki-sensei: The chosen pose is stationary, but I also wanted it to look intricate so I made the silhouette not too thin! I wanted to draw attention to his eyes, so I placed the gun next to his face and chose a strong colour (to create contrast)! I drew the texture more firmly than usual to give off a more powerful effect! I wanted to highlight his skin complexion so I deliberately chose cold colours for his shirt, hair, etc. but later I thought it looked a bit dull so I added the red light for the barcode scanner as an accent colour.

—

A must-see exclusive interview for readers of SAKAMOTO DAYS, and aspiring manga artists!

Suzuki-sensei Profile

Birthday: July 6

Hobbies: Basketball

Special skill: Handicraft

Favourite manga: Hunter x Hunter (Note: This is additional, known info from the one-shot.)

First debuted in April 2019: Published Garaku (骸区) on Jump Plus.

September 2019: Published Locker Room (ロッカールーム) on Jump Plus. In November of the following year, it received a live-action drama.

December 2019: SAKAMOTO •坂本• (SAKAMOTO -サカモト-) was published on Jump GIGA 2020 Winter. (Note: FYI, this was kinda a prototype of SAKAMOTO DAYS.)

SAKAMOTO DAYS serialization commenced in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, Issue No. 51. It has become a popular serialization today!!!

Suzuki-sensei, you were once featured in GIGA. Please tell us if you have any memories from that time.

Suzuki-sensei: There was that one time when I tried using Clip Studio Paint, I realized that there were many missing tones when I pasted the image. [Turns out that] I did not display the tone area. I remember the person-in-charge told me, “Full analog is better.”

—

Top Column: Suzuki-sensei published SAKAMOTO•坂本• (above photos) in Jump GIGA 2020 Winter after being published in Jump+ twice!! The main character Sakamoto, his family, Shin and other characters have appeared in the series since then. The concept of the story is the same as the serialization version, but there are several differences such as Sakamoto being a supermarket store clerk, and he [and Shin] even killed robbers, so it’s interesting to see the difference!!

*Shin’s comment: This version of Sakamoto-san is so cool~*

Please tell us what’s the biggest growth or change you’ve experienced between when you were drawing one-shots and now.

Suzuki-sensei: When I was drawing one-shots, my stance was that I would just draw whatever I thought was interesting, so the readers could see what I wanted them to see. But now, I always think about how I could entertain the readers, and how I could make everyone find [the story] interesting. As for [my] growth, I’ve been able to use Clip Studio Paint much better now.

Do you have any advice for the new and upcoming aspiring manga artists on how to create a good one-shot?

Suzuki-sensei: I think that “attention-grabbing” and “page-turning” are key elements in a one-shot! It is important to have this thought in mind while you’re drawing - “This one’s interesting!” - and whether you can really draw that or not. It’s also very important that the reader is able to get on board with the story just because it interests them. Readers will tend to notice if you are focused only on making everything nice and neat or if you’re just summarizing things up. After all, these elements are intended to reduce the “stress of reading.” It might sound weird to make [your story] more exciting just for the sake of attracting people to read, but I think that is one good tactic for competing in a one-shot contest!

*On the next page, we will learn more about Suzuki-sensei!*

Top Column: You can tell from reading Suzuki-sensei’s debut work Garaku, that he’s a mangaka who loves manga and movies! The carefully-drawn backgrounds and elaborate camera work are one of Suzuki-sensei’s strong points!

Please tell us how you became interested in drawing manga and how you chose to pursue this career.

Suzuki-sensei: I was worried about my future career path when I was graduating from my graduate school. But then I came across Katsuhiro Ōtomo-sensei’s manga, Dōmu, which helped develop my interest to become a manga artist.

Are there any other creators or works that you feel have influenced you as a writer?

Suzuki-sensei: I really like the manga written by Katsuhiro Ōtomo-sensei, Takehiko Inoue-sensei and Hiroya Oku-sensei. As for movies, I love the director Christopher Nolan.

I heard that you studied Japanese painting. Does the knowledge you acquired turn out to be of use when drawing your manga?

Suzuki-sensei: I think that it is mainly useful when it comes to composition and form. Japanese painting focuses on the concept of creating a beautiful arrangement of shapes within beautiful compositions, and I always keep that in mind with my work. In the near future, I wish to draw more Japanese-style illustrations.

Please tell us about your manga work process and the tools you use.

Suzuki-sensei: I use an analog pen for drawing the characters. The solid colours, sound effects, effect lines, and backgrounds are digitally drawn by my assistants. I use a Zebra hard G Pen for pen work and inking, and also a digital software, Clip Studio Paint!

Bottom Column: The Ferris wheel scene [Sakamoto vs Boiled], which ranked 3rd in the “Spread Campaign” poll, and the coloured single-page illustrations also portray the balance of the margins, cool silhouettes and compositions!

—

Top Column: The world of SAKAMOTO DAYS features characters with many gaps! From the strongest old man, Takamura, to the handsome but merciless Nagumo… The intense gaps are important to highlight the character’s individuality!

(T/n: “Gap” -also known as gap moe- refers to the contrast between one’s appearance and personality, or the difference between someone's actual personality and from first impression you had of them.)

How did you come up with the idea of a “retired assassin”?

Suzuki-sensei: First of all, I thought the idea of fat people being insanely strong is fascinating. So I asked myself, why are they fat? → Because they retired. Why? → Perhaps they got married or something? And that’s how I ended up making it.

Retired Sakamoto’s plump figure is cute, but it is an unusual character design for the protagonist of a shōnen manga. Please tell us the story behind this “fat assassin.”

Suzuki-sensei: I like characters with strong gaps, so I combined some elements from the two extreme opposites, such as the strongest old man and the strongest fat guy. And the result is that I found it more exciting to draw the strongest fat guy. Back then, I wanted to do a one-shot anyway, so I was focused on the story to make an impact. I truly never expected for it to get a serialization. I never modeled my character after anyone but later on when I learned about the movie “Enter the Fat Dragon”, I thought to myself that they are rather similar.

In SAKAMOTO DAYS, there seems to be many unique action ideas, such as Sakamoto repelled with a cough drop and fights inside the trains. How do you come up with such ideas?

Suzuki-sensei: Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always dreamed of absurd action [sequences]. Even in movies, one could wonder how they'd never think about doing this kind of action sequence or direction, and they may even ask themselves, “Do battles even occur in a situation like that?!” I like the kind of direction which would take the audience by surprise!

Bottom Column: One of the major attractions of this work is the depiction of powerful battles! It’s because the locations are familiar to the readers, and the battles are realistic and powerful beyond one’s imagination. It’s important to narrow down the situation in order to bring out the intensity of the battles!

—

Many attractive side characters appear in your series, such as Shin and Lu. How did you come up with such characters?

Suzuki-sensei: Sakamoto is fat and a man of little words, so I figured he needed a handsome sidekick. During a conversation between the two of them, there was this stuff, “killing in [your] imagination.” I wished to portray that and that’s the reason why I made Shin a clairvoyant. He gets along well with the quiet Sakamoto and they surprisingly made a good team. As for Lu, I initially wanted to draw a battle with a Chinese assassin, and in the course of that, she would show up as a pitiable heroine. [I guess] in my case, I often have a “I want to draw this kind of development!” or “This is how I want the story to unfold!” goal in mind, so the characters are born in the process due to that.

*Lu’s comment: So that’s how I was born, huh~*

Among the characters in your work, is there any character that is particularly easy or the most difficult to draw?

Suzuki-sensei: I don’t have many characters that I find difficult to draw but there are times where they do look alike. So I tend to be careful with that. Gaku is a character that I can draw easily among all the characters. He is someone who doesn’t depend on others and pushes forward on his own path, and I admire people like that, so I enjoy drawing him.

*Gaku’s comment: Ahhh, I see.*

Please tell us your favourite scene from Volume 1 of the manga.

Suzuki-sensei: I like the scene where Shin jumps off the roller coaster in Volume 1. I drew it in such a way so that the readers would be able feel the floating feeling during that scene whilst they're reading. When I drew that scene, I thought to myself that I might be good with drawing action scenes! I remember getting a positive feeling [from it].

Bottom Column: A scene that captures the moment Shin jumped off from the roller coaster – from various camera [angles]! It is important to capture the cool moments in powerful action scenes, such as when Sakamoto tried to punch while disassembling a gun, or when Sakamoto approached the enemy from behind!!

—

Top Column: One of the charms of the work is that it will always make you laugh!! In order to make the reader want to meet the characters and experience their world, it is important to make the story “easy” to read! Despite being a world where assassins are rampant, it still seems like a fun world [to be in] and that’s the charm of this work!

Your one-shots Garaku and Locker Room both have a darker worldview, whereas your serialized SAKAMOTO DAYS is a shōnen manga with comedy and action elements. Is there a reason why you decided to go with this genre?

Suzuki-sensei: It’s easier to make a dark story if it’s a one-shot. But with serialization, I thought it might become potentially harder, so I decided to make the most stress-free manga that I could draw and read, and that’s how this kind of setting came about.

Do you already have the ending of the story in mind, or have you not decided it yet?

Suzuki-sensei: Yes, I have already planned a definite conclusion in mind.

Finally, SAKAMOTO DAYS has reached its 100th chapter. Could you give a final message to our readers who are reading the story?

Suzuki-sensei: The series is only able to continue into a serialization all thanks to the readers! I cannot thank you enough. Thank you very much! I’m also very happy with the fan letters that I’ve received. Please keep sending them. Please continue to support SAKAMOTO DAYS!

*Sakamoto’s comment: Thanks for reading this far. I appreciate it.*

*Over 2.3 million copies sold!! Volumes 1 to 9 are on sale now!!*

fin.

[benefits1986]

YE Countdown 2023: Lessons from Gen Alpha and Gen Z Goslings

Let's try giving "Lessons from Geese" an update it deserves, shall we?

One of the first things I vividly remember back in Leon Guinto days is the session in Marketing 101 staged by my second dad. Back then, I'd nonchalantly listen to his mentions about Katips, his alma mater. Honestly, I found it trivial because he's housed in Taft Likod or Taft Tabi-tabi. He's fond of using terms like Jesuits and angling it toward his dry humor about Benedictines.

However, his deep dive about "Lessons from Geese" caught my usually bored self. It was rather long and a bit too poetic and unapologetically philosophical for a class that's right after lunch time. Though I knew I wanted to ace this class since it's my major, this particular session turned my grade-focused existence to my yearning to be under his wing. I guess it's the pivotal moment when I wanted and needed him to mentor me. Check the full document here --JICYMI, this may give you more context about what I'm talking about. ;)

You see, I am fully aware that schools and any social spaces are not just about grades. Mother Dragon said that it's always important to get to know how any situation, any person, any conversation and all things in between should enable me to bring a lesson I can use as I go through life. She didn't mention anything about getting a 1UP based on status or title. All she wanted me to do is to go beyond the medium to masticate the message as I come up with a derivative that would allow me to learn from other's mistakes and milestones. She reminded me passionately about this a little too much, but, I knew that the wild child in me had to whacked in the head a little too much to let her message rise from the noise and the clutter.

This holiday, I spent a whole lot of time with my Gen Z 4th anak-anakan and her three Gen Alpha siblings. I wasn't expecting anything from this long holiday leave as I planned a very detailed Iloilo & beyond trip. This "coming home to ina's house" is easily the longest time I've stayed here. This time around though, this stay is the most intentional that's not too focused on averting a family matter that matters most. This time around, it's my homecoming to heal the wounded healer in me.

I actually paused as I plugged in the previous sentence. This statement made my insides swell with nostalgia that's like a really deep, dark chocolate with Level 5 matcha laced with vanilla.

I've shared that I love interacting with Gen Z and have been wondering how Gen Alpha would come in the picture. And then, poof. Here we are! I'd like to list down some lessons that aim to marry a classic and an upcoming school of thought, because we're weird that way, yes?

(I'm kind of excited because postmodernism is a staple in my book, however, I seem to have too little time to indulge in it. Perhaps, this is a good start as I fine-tune my slants, writing-wise.)

#1 Before the "V" formation comes the battle of the egos and the "lost in translation" phase.

I used to be so irritated when I see Gen Alpha get too physical and too graphic when they have sibling rivalry. While I know so well that sibling rivalry dates back to Cain and Abel, this generation is off the roof. They don't murder each other literally, however, they indulge in really cutting words tripled with bloody punches, bites and the like and are teeming with hate that makes my empath aura bleed so badly.

However, I've tried using lines like "You hate your sister? Did you know that love and hate are the same? Love and hate are both energies and you just choose one each time you talk to your sister."

Gen Alpha and Gen Z are already loaded with biases based on their algorithm, their digital and analog selves along with the influence of millennials, Gen X and boomers as the supporting characters in their avatar-filled his/herstory.

Their comments, questions and answers are too personal and at times, unforgiving. However, it's their way of asking for help about managing their one too many biases that they're yet to test out and figure out.

#2 Flying alone is a choice and shouldn't be antagonized. However, choosing to fly with a group is also a moral obligation.

Speaking of the avatar-filled digital and analog selves of Gen Alpha and Gen Z, I strongly feel and think that this generation's silent pandemic is the managing being alone, feeling alone and thinking alone.

I really can't imagine how the lockdown mutated their genes and impacted their spheres mentally, physically, emotionally and the list goes on and on and on.

Social awkwardness in these two generations is more pronounced; however, these generations ache for connections that are both digital and analog --no in between, no but's, no if's.

I've seen how my Virgo Baby Girl (VBG) cousin indulged in really, really bad tantrums that made my boomer dad unleash his boomer parenting without the belt slash or hanger flyer. LOL.

I've come across this random parent who shared that moody kids like hers are usually overstimulated, overwhelmed and yes, may well be overreacting. She also recommended giving hugs and words of affirmation a good try. Her comment section exploded and when I scanned, the netizens are both hating and loving her content piece.

And so, since I'm a fan of social experiments, I tested this hypothesis on my VBG in the light of trying to up my ante as a progressive millennial Tita. The reason is that VBG is too similar with my Virgo Baby Brother (VBB). LOL. It's me trying to see a quantum jump of some sort, too. Back then, I was too tough love on my VBB, and this time around, I'd like to be a bit better to him through my VBG interactions which are still calculated risks because I'm not always out of Manila. :p

Most importantly, hugs and words of affirmation combo is my waterloo. I'd want to try making it a waterWOO this 2024, because, late is better than never ever, right?

The first time I hugged and affirmed my VBG was when she's about to burst. As a recovering overthinker, I cling to my people watching skills to detect when's the best time to jump off the cliff. LOL. Akala mo naman napaka hirap, but, that's how I egg roll. CHOZ. It felt weird then wonderful. Kaya ko naman pala e. She didn't reject me vehemently, but she pushed back, obviously. There goes, my ugh vibe when it comes to being rejected. But, mature roles era na tayo, so, I hugged her again. This time around, she didn't bulldoze me. Instead she rested her head on my chest. Chest pa talaga, mhie. She just stayed there and I tried super tiny words of affirmation na gentle and no bashing. HAHAHAHAHA. Again, bloody baby steps po kasi nga, I'm not exactly in my element as an ember girl.

Milestone ko when she didn't clench her body and hugged me back. OPAK. Real quick naman din pala e. WOOT. WOOT. Tacca. Kaya naman pala e. You know what's even better? When she was dressing for our luwas to Manila yesterday, she asked me to tie her hair using the pink big bow I gifted her. She even told me that she'd use the water bottle I gave her even when she has one too many Aquaflasks na. HUHUHUHUHU. Ang babaw ko talagang tao. But wait, there's more, she showed her wrist to me and proudly said: "Ate, we have gold and silver bracelets. Look." LUH. Syempre, wala akong comment kasi caught off guard ako, so I just said OK. Did you know? OK is my word of affirmation, believe it or not. Ang lala ko 'di ba? I'm the type kasi who's always saying no and I don't care, literally and figuratively.

Happy to share that she had ZERO tantrums kahapon so we managed our super duper limited time in Manila very wisely. Hihihi.

#3 Rest is not for the weak, but rest if meant to strengthen your flying performance and stamina.

Gen Alpha and Gen Z have sleeping problems that may be worse than the previous generations. I think this is anchored on synchronous and asynchronous communication.

The gift and curse of being the multi-hyphenated generation is off the roof. Again, millennials are trying to live vicariously through these generations. I've seen Kumon top tier kiddos sleep and snore like adults hustling and working so deeply. I've seen the defeated cries of kids losing a super "wala lang" game in spite being Top 1 in class across all subjects. I've seen kids fear rivers because they don't look like pristine chlorine-filled pools. I've seen kids try posing as grown ups even when their drips don't fit their vibe and mood.

NKKLK. And so, when I interface with my Gen Z med student cousin, I try my best to be gentle and firm. Bashing and crashing and limited time love language namin, pero when she shared, "Ate, ang gusto ko lang naman in life, 'yung kalmado naman. Ayoko na nga sigawan na walang tigil. Bingi na nga ako e." It felt so graphic and true. Kaya, 'di man ako kalmado, eto na tayo sa ultra femme era natin. I don't know if I can wing it, pero OK. OK. Hahahaha.

Rest is something that ALL generations lack. Choosing not to rest seems like a mortal sin to this population. However, as a recovering burnout bitch running on adrenaline addiction x anhedonia mash up, rest is integrated in all my flows. Hindi siya madali. Hindi siya part ng sistema ko. Hindi siya nakakakalma, however, rewiring your totality is integral in all spaces and places you go to.

Huminga. Kumalma. Magpahinga. Then, saka ka balik-sabak na. GAH. I miss my home buddy tuloy sa work RN. HUHUHU. Alam mo 'yung sobrang simpleng feedback niya na kahit ang kalat ko talaga nitong Q4 2023, he tells me na 'yung tip ko na huminga siya in between his lines sa reporting, gamit na gamit niya. Not always pero a good number of times. This Gen Z is teaching me na it's OK to be gentle and firm. HUHUHUHU. OK. OK. Shemay, kamusta na ba sila? But, wait, kalma. Magpahinga. Huminga.

#4 Encouragement is both a blessing to the healing ones; and may be a loud senseless honk or curse for those who are yet to see and feel that they're badly wounded.

Another lesson I'd like to overhaul about the geese is the HONKING to keep the "V" formation pop and fly high. LOL. Eto na po tayo sa highly polarizing bit ng piece na 'to na napaka haba. Gawin ko na ba 'tong thesis proposal? Hahahahahaha. Gusto comm-focused e. CHOZ.

There's encouragement that's called for and uncalled for. Gen Z and Gen Alpha don't like to be scolded and honked at. LOL. That's the other thing that seems crass about these new generations; however, honking is kinda outdated when I revisited these geese lessons.

How so? Honking may be intrusive and kinda condescending. A honk is usually loud and triggering. A honk is typically making you jump, like that of a bike or car honk, right? So, what?

Instead of honking, I picked encouragement as a better alternative so it's more empathic and inclusive. Encouragement is something that should be used and not misused or abused. Gen Z and Gen Alpha already are in deep pain points that have not existed since The Land Before Time Era. (OA ko na naman, pero I want that graphic reference right here and right now e.)

I am trying to be more encouraging and taming my wild horse while at it. Gen Z and Gen Alpha are generally not afraid to ask for help, however, the manner they ask for help is something that I'm learning as it is not the same as the older generation. They usually lambing to say they are in trouble. They usually go offline when there's something bothersome. They usually mask their depression with fancy and fluffy stuff. It's kind of the same with millennials, but not quite.

#5 A damaged geese either dies or lives. It's all about how the perspective of the geese who help the wounded PLUS how the damaged geese perceives it.

Lastly, the circle of geese and the depth and stamina of that circle defines the life and death of any damaged goose. I view asking for help as a demerit. Ang lala natin talaga. But, what I'm painstakingly learning is that asking for help is a choice. People who help are also making choices. It's not about wala na lang silang maggawa kasi kawawa ako. LOL. Milestone achieved. Akala mo again kung anong napaka profound learning, ano po? I won't say sorry kasi akala ko talaga tama 'yun e noon e.

The quality of your circle of control is also impacted by the quality of the people you cling to as you try your best to control your circle of control. Read that again and again. When you're in a chaotic space and state, it really is a plus to have people who believe in you no matter what. 'Yung tipong won't baby you pero medyo delulu levels ng tiwala sa'yo kasi kaya mo naman talaga... sabaw or traumatized ka lang talaga. Or puwede rin namang wala sa mood. LOL.

Help is a two-way thing and multi-faceted as well. Hindi siya one-sided lang featuring nangaabala 'yung kabila so walang choice 'yung naabala. I guess, this is my first time to ask for help na taos-puso tulo ang uhog at dugo era ko. HAHAHAHA. As a recovering wone wolf, this is always a coliseum for the mere mortal me. However, OK OK OK na, I am giving this a really good try and nag-start na ako.

Gah. I started this at around 430 AM and I just finished. Daming hugot-lagot niyan? LOL. Maybe, I just love the sound of my suking electric fan on a balmy Thursday morning with the pitter-patter of soft rain coupled with soft glowing ambient lights na walang maingay. Add queen sized bed and the chirping birds, too. Ah, provincial life. Sa Year 41 na tayo mag-tuos sa araw-araw. Piliin ko muna 'yung good fight sa araw-araw din, because, the best things take time and sanay naman ako maghintay kahit impatient ako.

<3

[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!

[sugary-space-girl]

hello may i have a oneshot request plz

A haikyuu (u can choose the character(s)) x chubby!bigtitty!reader where they get hit on all the time by adults because they are seen as an adult because you know, curvy, fem presenting people always are sexualized. And and reader are on a date and he sees all the stares/whispers/and or adults(men) being weird and creepy with reader. And as he sees this he kind of goes off on people about and comforts reader. Hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff. You can choose to make it a one shot or headcanons

A/n: I hate whenever grown ass adults would sexulize children just because they're curvy/chubby it's weird and disgusting.

Oikawa x reader

Genre: hurt comfort

Warnings: insecure body images, being sexulized, creepy old man, and body shaming

Unedited

You were honestly really excited to go on this date with Oikawa since you both had been really busy with school lately and hadn't gone out for a while. You knew you were chubby and curyou knew that you were chubby and curvy, which really should not be a problem since you were still underage and even if you weren't, people should have the common decency not to stare or hit on you. Sadly that is not how the world views your body type even as a child; everyone seems to keep on sexualzing you and using how mature your body is as justification.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts; you decided that this should not stop your excitement for your upcoming date. Oikawa and you decided to go to the movies for your guys date night since it was not that far from where you both lived, and the movie theatre was showing a movie that piques both yall’s interest. Slipping on your favourite outfit and grabbing your things before locking the door; you decided to leave early, so you won’t be late if anything unexpected pops up on the way.

Going to the movie theatre was not as bad as you thought it would be since there were not as many people on the streets at this certain hour, but going inside the theatre was a whole different story. You were just a few minutes early, so you just sat down at one of the waiting benches to wait for Oikawa. You could feel people starting to stare at you, well more specifically at your boobs and slowly dragging their eyes all over your body like it was the best thing to analyze. Shifting uncomfortably at how some people's eyes were trying to undress you and tensing up when some older woman and man made rude comments on your body. (stfu bitch acting like your old wrinkly ass is going to live long enough to see the end of the damm movie)

“Look at her”

“I would never let my daughter be seen like this”

“I’ll hit that any day”

“You think her tits are real”

“That slut knows what she’s doing”

God why can’t they just leave you alone, it’s not like you can help how your body is like, and it’s none of their business on how you look. You finally got fed up with these comments and disgusting looks and wanted to be alone with some privacy before you break. You started making your way towards the bathroom, so you could just wait, but was stopped by a man when you were almost there. You had your fair share of man cat calling you and trying to hit on even when they could be your dad.

“Aw baby girl, where are you going in such a rush?” You cringe in disgust at his comment, and tried to walk around him, but he had another idea by grabbing your arm and pulling you back in front of him again.

“Come on I was just trying to be nice, don’t girls like you like nice guys”

“I don’t have time for this or you and besides I’m already waiting for someone” you said yanking your arm out his grimly hands.

“You really are a bitch, but I’ll still take care of you since you got a nice ass and tits” The stranger tried to grab you again, but before he could you were pushed harshly to the ground by a woman who you were assuming was his wife.

“HOW FUCKING DARE YOU TRY TO SEDUCE MY HUSBAND YOU LITTLE WHORE!” You could feel heat coming up to your face from embarrassment and anger, since everyone was watching you now, but no one wanted to help or defuse the situation since it wasn't their problem to deal with.

“JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE BIG TITS DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO FLASH THEM AROUND-’’

“And what seduced your husband who was obviously harassing her even when she was clearly uncomfortable! Maybe you should use your brain lady, your husband is the problem”, You turn your head at the familiar voice that interrupted the stranger's wife to see it was your boyfriend who did it and was clearly angry at this whole situation.

"DO-"

“Oh! not to mention that disgusting creature was hitting on a highschool student who’s old enough to be her dad. That seems really inappropriate for people your age to be doing and of course it's too!” You watch as Oikawa interrupted the lady again not letting her get a word in. At this point you couldn't tell if her face was red because of anger, yelling, or embarrassment, but it doesn't really matter to you at this point

“Come on man how could you expect us to know that she was a student she got a body of a grown woman”

“Don’t you dare sexulize her as an excuse for your actions. I don’t care what her body type looks like. She’s. clearly. younger. than. you. and did not want you or are you really that stupid. Her body does not give you consent to touch her or tells you she wants you. And your wife is as shitty as you for blaming the girl that your husband was clearly hitting on you must be blind to think that a man like that was actually innocent in this situation. I don't want to be near you or hear anymore pathetic excuses from you because both of you disgust me, but we honestly don't have time to deal with shitty people like you, it's not worth it"

You could tell that both of the strangers were embarrassed by how the situation was turned on them, but soft hands wiping away hot tears that you didn't even realize you were crying brought you back to your boyfriend. His furrowed brows says how he's still frustrated but his brown eyes were soft and filled with worry. Oikawa pulled up off the ground that you were shoved on and led you out the theater to somewhere more quiet.

You wanted to say something you really did but the words got stuck in your throat and all you could do was cry. You felt Oikawa's arms wrap around you tightly pulling you into his chest, as he rubs you gently on your back to help calm you down.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean for this to happen" you whisper out trying your best to keep your tears at bay. You could feel Oikawa tense at your words before pulling away enough to see your face

"Hey, you don't actually blame yourself for this do you? This wasn't your fault at all no matter what anyone says you did nothing wrong sweetheart" tears were filling back up in your eyes at his words and you tried to look away from feeling embarrassed from everything from your emotions, tears, and your body.

"People always whisper about my body and harass me because of it so maybe it's my-" you didn't finish your statement that blames yourself before your face is being cupped in his hands making you look back at him.

"No. Don't think like that it's not your fault how these people treat you. No matter how you look they should never say or do such degrading things to you because you have no control over how your body looks and even if you did they should never treat you like that. People who have an ounce of respect would never do things like that to you." At this point you were crying some more. You couldn't help it, but your tears were softly being kissed away by Oikawa but with every kiss soft praise fell from them. He didn't stop until you stopped crying.

"Hey Tooru"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for helping me"

[messers-moony]

Comics 2 | A.G

Paring: Aidan Gallagher X Fem!Reader

Summary: Aidan meets an unusually pretty girl at a library while trying to find a textbook for school

Warnings: Cursing

Years later, Aidan and Y/n were now twenty-five. All these years and Aidan hadn’t seen her since he gifted her the comic book when they were just twenty. All these years later and he still loved her.

He left a bookmark in there on purpose, one with his number, but yet, she never called. It made his mind wander. Why wasn’t she calling? Maybe she wasn’t fond of calling, but even then, she never texted either.

A certain feeling of defeat lingered in his heart. Maybe she didn’t like him like that. Her words were stuck in his mind; they lagged in his head like a broken record every time he was to fall asleep.

“ Y/n L/n. Remember it. “

Why was he to remember it? She was a comic book artist, for Christ's sake, not an upcoming actress. As far as he knew, there would never be a significance to her name. A new Netflix show was in the making, another one based on comic books.

Of course, Aidan got the call. The call was a producer begging him to audition for the leading role. He would be perfect for this role, swore the producer. Aidan was hesitant but did it anyway.

Aidan wasn’t the only one in the audition room, of course, but he was only here because of the pleading the producer did. He auditioned, and that was that. Within a week's notice, they would notify him.

On his way home, he stopped by a library, the very same library he met the girl at. Sighing, he walked to the comic book section and picked up the series of comics. There were five in the series, and he bought all of them.

He walked home with a backpack filled with his belongings and now new comic books. Walking into his apartment, he unzipped his bag and took out the first comic. The male ignored who wrote and illustrated it. It didn’t really matter. Did it?

The brunette read through the first comic and was hooked almost immediately. He read through them relatively quickly, and when he finished, he was agitated. The books were completed on a cliffhanger, only leading him to assume there had to be a sixth book soon.

Three days went by, and Aidan couldn’t help but reread the comic books for a more thorough analysis. The more he read, the more he saw how similar he and the main character was.

Everything down to the hair, the dimples, the smile, and the eyes were the exact same. The mannerisms being almost identical scared him. But he realized why the producer begged him for this role. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said Aidan was the perfect candidate for it.

He finished the series a second time and stared at the cover. That’s when he realized it and then began to scold himself for how dense he could possibly be.

“ Written and Illustrated by Y/n L/n “

We’re the words written across the top of the book. That’s why the main character was so similar to him, because the girl who wrote it knew who he was. She was observant, hella observant.

Within a week's notice, as promised, Aidan got a call saying he got the role and they would fly him to New York to begin filming. He’d be leaving in a month, probably the least amount of notice he’s been given before filming a show.

Nonetheless, the month went by faster than you could blink, and he was on a plane to New York. The set was much bigger than he imagined and made his way to the producers.

“ Aidan, you came! How wonderful! “ The producer from the phone exclaimed happily, “ My names Alex. I’m so ecstatic you came. “

Alex put his hand out to shake, which Aidan accepted politely, “ I assume you’ve read the comics by now? “ A familiar voice queried.

“ I have, actually. “ Aidan replied, turning around to be met with the dyed-haired female, “ I told you, remembering my name would come in handy. “ Y/n winked.

Aidan snickered, “ Why make your main character almost exactly like me? “ Aidan questioned, fully serious, “ Because Gallagher, you’re intriguing. You also seem to attract the best audience. Not to mention you always put on a show. “ Y/n said with prominent confidence.

The way his last name rolled off her tongue almost made him faint. He adored her and wanted her to be his. Now that she was here, he’d do anything in his power to make her his.

“ So you’re using me to make your show popular? “ The male joked, “ No, don’t take it the wrong way. I used you because you’re hardworking, and you put everything into your role. You, my love, are perfect for this role. “ Y/n responded, and Aidan’s cheeks flushed at the pet name.

“ Now, I must be going. However, I will see you on set tomorrow, I presume? “ She questioned with a soft smile, “ Yeah. Definitely. “ Aidan breathed as she left.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder, “ You are completely head over heels for her, huh? “ A male voice spoke in his ear, making him jump, “ Jesus Christ Robert, where did you come from? Why are you here? “ Aidan heaved as his hand was on his heart.

“ I’ve actually earned myself a role as well as Elliot Page. I’ve never seen you so entranced. “ Robert commented, “ She's been stuck in my head for years. “ Aidan murmured.

Robert had a face of curiosity, “ We met like five years ago at a library, and I talked to her for only two hours, but by then, she had me completely wrapped around her finger. “ Aidan explained, and Robert raised an eyebrow, “ She moved the next week, and I hadn’t seen her since. “

“ Well. Better make your move soon. I’ve seen guys eyeing her up all day. “ Robert replied as he walked off.

Months later, Y/n was right. Aidan was absolutely perfect for the role without even trying. Granted, the character was practically him, but he excelled in making the role his own.

Y/n and Aidan had gotten quite close throughout those months. They seemed pretty fond of each other. She was confident, intelligent, and caring. He was thoughtful, kind, and sweet. The pair made a loving match.

However, the girl's heart was guarded, she had been let down so many times, and she didn’t want to ruin the friendship she had acquired with the famous male. Aidan, in his free time, had been working on an EP. The title and main song on it was held close to his heart.

After a couple of dates and a lot of convincing, she gave in. Aidan Gallagher had now achieved the girl of his dreams, Y/n L/n. She was everything he wanted and so much more. He was captivated by her and made sure he showed the world.

Every chance he got, he posted her everywhere. His fans absolutely adored her, possibly even more than he did. Saturday lives his fans spent begging to see the admirable female when she wasn’t present. It honestly made Aidan quite jealous.

Regardless it made Aidan’s heart feel unbelievably full that both he and his fans loved her as much as he desired. Mornings were spent holding each other with subtle morning kisses. Nights were spent eating take-out and playing the original Mario kart after many arguments that it was better than the newer versions.

Filming was almost complete, and Aidan’s stay in New York was coming to a very prominent close. A day neither lover was looking forward to. His home was in Los Angeles, and hers was in New York. There was no changing that.

“ Do you really have to go? “ Questioned the teary-eyed female, “ Unfortunately. “ Aidan sighed.

They both stood in JFK Airport as close as they could before having to depart. Aidan’s hands held her tear-stained cheeks, and she moved stray strands of hair from his forehead.

“ I promise, I will come back for you. “ Aidan pledged to, and she sniffled, nodding, “ I’ll move in with you if you want. “

Y/n looked up slightly guilty, “ I don’t want to be the reason you leave your hometown. You grew up there. Your entire family is there. I would feel awful taking you away from them. “ She admitted, “ I would be living here willingly. Plus, there’s more opportunities acting-wise here, believe it or not. Hollywood isn’t all it’s made out to be. The United Nations is also home to New York. It’d be closer to everything. “ Aidan explained.

“ If- If that’s what you want, then I wouldn’t hesitate. “ Y/n smiled softly.

Aidan pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, “ Then this isn’t really goodbye, is it? “ Aidan’s whisper left a hot breath lingering on her lips, “ No, it isn’t. “ Y/n replied.

“ Stop your crying then. I hate seeing you cry. I will come back. “ He muttered softly, wiping her tears and kissing her forehead, “ I love you. “

“ I love you too. Be safe, please. Text me when you get on and when you land, okay? “ She requested, “ Always. “ Aidan simpered.

Gently he let her go and walked away with a tiny wave. Now there were only two things left to do. Pack up all of his stuff and play one last show in Los Angeles before leaving his home.

The male pack quickly when he arrived home, way too excited to live with his new partner. His show was scheduled for that night. Tonight he’d be playing his brand new song, the main song on his latest EP, the one he held close to his heart.

Nerves ran through his body like no tomorrow as he stepped up on stage. Screams were heard throughout the entire venue, making him smile brightly.

“ Hello everyone. “ Aidan greeted, getting screams in response, “ As you all may know, I will not be living in LA for much longer. New York seems more like home now than it’s ever seemed, so after this show, I’ll be getting on a plane to my new home. “

“ While I’ll play your favorite’s such as songs like Blue Neon and Fourth of July, there’s a new song at the end I’d love for your feedback on. I hold this song very close to my heart, and I hope you all will as well. So let’s get this started. “ Aidan informed with a gleeful smile present on his lips.

Aidan began strumming the guitar and singing the all too familiar lyrics. Applause was given in between each song, only encouraging his love for music as he continued to sing— his fans sung along with him giving Aidan a sense of love and commitment.

Finally, the last song was due to play, “ I call this last one, Comics. “

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Author's Notes ♡: Hey Hey, it’s me, ya girl and I’m back with another collab! Ive always loved the roommates theme and have a few ideas for some other ones in my head making this. It’s kinda all over the place because it was a professing with their friendship! Yes I made a Zelda reference and I land about it no. I know Rapp is seen as violent and dense but but this is in a collage au so he’s just a bit...aloof I just love the idea of him actually being a big softie ʕ⊙ᴥ⊙ʔ. I hope you enjoy! ~ bunny ❥

Warnings : NSFW!!! (◎_◎;)

Sweet caring sorta himbo(meh?) Rappa, female oral, Big Dick Rappa , sorta size kink if you really sqint,cheater ex mentioned like once , language

Word count : About 5k! Yikes ^^’

Paring(s) : Kendo Rappa x F! Reader

Enjoy ♡

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Having Kendo Rappa as a roommate is an interesting feat in itself. He is big, and loud , very very loud. He wasn't a bad roommate he just..was like a cute large and fluffy puppy that didn't know his size...or power. Their interactions started as the two met during a halloween party one of the frat houses down the street thew. [ ] went as Midna, her best friend Rumi was dressed as Impa while the last two of her friend group , Amaya and Asa, a pair of sisters, were dressed as fairies. “[ ]! Rumi! you two are so cute! Zelda costumes?” Asa asked as her sister ran up to admire their outfits. “Yeah! [ ] wanted to do some characters that matched us y'know?” She said as she nudged her quiet friend , the girl jumped and laughed , scratching her neck as she gave the excited sisters a small smile “If i was coming out tonight I was gonna wear what i wanted to really wear” [ ] said as the group of them laughed and mingled with their other friends and classmates. While heading to get juice , she heard loud screaming , as the sport boys were starting to show up. First was the football team, then the basketball. Baseball and wrestling came next, then the smaller clubs finished them out. Sighing [ ] was content away from everyone as she watched mayhem ensure, chugging of barrels , more music, girls swarming around the players they crushed on as they did minor things, like talk to their teammates or eating from one of the big food trays laying around. Feeling a tap on her shoulder broke her from her people watching, Rumi giving her a bright smile as she took a cup and joined her. “How's my favorite antisocial babe doing now that all of the party has arrived?” She asked as [ ] gave her a pained smile, going to get more if something to drink “Well I don't feel the need to smack anyone is that a good sign?” she chuckled as she got a hug from the more energetic girl “That's my girl! Don't worry, i wanna get out asap but we’re gonna need our favourite pair of sisters before that can happen and it seems like they're fawning over some of the baseball boys as we speak” Rumi said as they watched a familiar tutu of blue go by, followed by a pink one going a similar way. “I don't get it… but at least their taste in men isn't too bad” [ ] joked as Rumi agreed , laughing “Yeah miss tsundere, you can't stand saps, or most of the jocks either” giving the white haired girl a look she rolled her eyes and gave her own laugh back “Yeah I guess i'm either picky or just got high standards” “Ain't nothing wrong with that we all do!” She said as she elbowed the girl beside her.

As the two of them sat there and talked Rumi glanced past her and her eyes widened, causing [ ] to stop talking “What is it-” before she could question her, the white haired girl jumped up, waving at someone “Rap! Over here!” Constantly yelling to someone [ ] started to ask again when a booming voice came from above her “HEY RUMI” a very loud voice called as stomping could be heard before it stopped “I see you took our idea huh?” With that comment [ ] turned around only to be face to face with a dark cover chest, only to then look up to some of the most warm and amber colored eyes looking down at her “Hello there little lady, I like your costume! Erm..Midna aint it?” The giant ganon dressed man questioned as all she could do was shake her head in agreement, causing the giant male to laugh “Awe don't be shy of me kitten i ain't gonna bite!” He chuckled some more as her friend jumped in “I told you she was shy! Be nice Rappa!” Rumi yelled at the flaming red head as he gave her a toothy grin “Oh I was just teasin’ , I bet I ain't hurt her feelin’s did I sweetheart?” Rappa questioned as [ ] face felt hot, hiding her face in her hands as the teasing duo laughed causing the girl to huff “I'm tired of you two already” She said as a giant warm hand touched her shoulders “Awe dont be like that hun, in time ya’l love me” Rappa teased as he gave her a smile,making her stomach flutter “Yeah! This is who wanted you to meet anyway [ ]! This is Kendo Rappa, our top wrestling boy, Rappa this is my adorable best friend [ ]!” Rumi said as the two gave each other a shy smile , a sly one creeping up on Rumis as she thought to herself “Yeah, this'll definitely happen”

Since then the two had become more acquainted , having many classes together and sharing some similar friends [ ] was used to the bruting and sometimes dense man making a random ( and loud) appearance. As [ ] sat in her mostly empty room thanks to her last roommate moving out after constantly breaking sound rules and getting into it with the girl downstairs for being in her bed with her boyfriend (Yikes) she felt a sense of calm. Closing her chemistry book and letting out a relieved sigh [ ] thought about the fact she was going to get a new roommate, the thought was nerve wracking but also it was exciting as well. It was almost too quiet , having the last room by the stairs meant she didn't have to deal with many people besides her friend group. They weren't loud , unless one of her friends decided to get laid and made way too many sounds, or if their neighbors under them threw parties or also had...extra partners coming around. She definitely could feel she was sorta excited she was going to have a roommate again. The sisters had a room to the left of her while Rumi had the one to the right, sharing it with a girl they knew from math. The rooms were not gender defined, some girls having rooms with guys and vise versa so it made it easy to get a room.

These dorms were also quite spacious, the walls not paper thin and a large enough area space that could house two or maybe even three people. So when she heard a knock on her door she expected it to be her new roommate she was advised would come today. Happily opening the door she was shocked and almost terrified to see just a box, well actually a few boxed stacked hiding whoever it was behind them. But if the faed rustic orange hair and wide shoulders meant anything she knew her new roommate already “K-kendo?” [ ] said as the boxes walked by her , landing with a soft thud as bangs covered the male “[ ]? Is that you?” moving his hair out of the way their eyes had the same expression, shocked. “Uh h-hey there sweetheart why isn't this cute, we’re roomies hun?” he laughed as she couldn't help but give him a smile back. “I never expected to see you as my roommate” [ ] teased as Rappa gave her a hardy laugh “Well it looks like me and you are gonna be close friends here darlin’!” With a wide smile he picked her up and gave her a tight hug, taking her breath away ‘ Oh boy i wonder how this will turn out’ she thought as she was eye leve with her giant puppy like friend, his eyes filled of joy

Which leads into now, [ ] trying her hardest to read up on what her next project could be. As she sat there thinking she heard the tale tell sound of her roommate entering with some of his teammates, the boys loud and rambunctious as they entered. Feeling a heavy hand on her shoulder she looked up to the towering boy that was her roommate, his eyes just as bright as usual. “Hey darlin, we're just gonna talk up sum strats a for the upcoming match and play some games in the back , is that alright?” He asked with pleading eyes as one of his more cocky and jock like friends spoke up “Well youre the man here, dont let some women say if we cant or can be here” Rolling her eyes and proceeding to stand up and push past the wide eyed boy who knew what was going to happen. [ ] took in a breath before opening her eyes to look up to the boy “Well it is my room, i pay shit here and the man over there didnt get this place, so i do choose who can and cant come through my place” She said as she pointed a finger to the boys chest. Trying to push his luck he pushed back against her finger “ I bet you just haven’t gotten a good enough dicking for you to just stay out of the way” He laughed. Before [ ] could hit him hard enough her rust haired friend moved in , clearly towering the boy “Yer better watch yer mouth, she has her right around here, im invatin her space so watch it before there's no place for any of us to relax without rules” He said as the boy sucked up any laughing and nodded his head in understanding. Surprised by her usually aloof roommate [ ] stood back and went back to her work, the other boys scrambling behind kendo as the boy who tried to challenge her jumped to follow, never making a move to mock or do anything again.

The boys picked back up and were having fun in the back room of kendo’s , sighs and groans when they lost and victorious laughs and screams if someone won. Once they all left and everything settle to a quiet rumble as the last few funneled out [ ] could here herself think, reading up on chemistry as she felt a presence behind her. “ ‘M sorry, i didn't know my question wouldve cause a roar outta ya..” Kendo started as she smiled gently, turning to face the wounded boy “Its okay….guess it just lit something in me i always did y'know?” She said with a small laugh as she went to type again, but was stopped by the hulking boy. “I gotta make it up to ya alright? I know i aint say anythin that he did but…. It feels like my fault y'know?” He admitted as his large hand covered hers. “You wont live this down will you?” She questioned as his eyes flickered up to hers, sparking. “Nope, not at all. Lemme treat ya right okay?” For such innocent words [ ] couldnt help the shiver that ran down her back at his words. Maybe it was because he was so close, or that the smell of his cologne was too much, either way her head was spinning as she let him still hold her hand as he tugged her away from her computer , his smile widening as she reluctantly shut the bright screen “Great! Now let's get something to eat im starvin” He rasped out as [ ] gave him a giggle that made the boy stop in his tracks. He always thought she had a cute giggle but this one,for some reason , made his heart and chest feel warm and tight. Ignoring the feeling he took the girl with him, the two headed out to get something to eat as they headed down , the sound of her giggling still running though kendos mind.

Getting a random frantic text from Kendo wasn't unusual, in fact it was quite common for him to do such, which now didn't faze [ ] at all but this one was...particularly odd giving what he was asking ‘Hair? And messy? What in the world is he up to’ [. ] thought to herself as she headed to her shared room with the boy, nervous of what scene she could be entering.

Sighing after his last text she hurried her way to their dorm room and in fact he did leave the door open, making her more nervous as she entered the living room. “Kendo?” [ ] called out as she heard a gruff sound come from her bathroom. Entering was a sight of its own; towels, a bowl of some..substance , bags and bottles of body wash and a one flustered and shirtless Kendo. “[ ]! ‘M so glad yer home here take this” The large man said as he handed her an old toothbrush that was frayed and covered with the same odd substance in the bowl. The lingering smell from the room eventually gave it away ; shampoos. “Uh why do i need this? And why is there shampoo on a toothbrush” She questioned as he groaned, taking the towel off his head as she blinked owlishly at his very faded red orange hair, the color now more of a neon pumpkin. Shaking off extra water caused even more of his hair to fall, landing between his shoulder blades as he gave [ ] a desperate look. “It wont come out, and the more i scub the more...orange i become. I look like a orange peel” He whined as [ ] figured out what he was trying to do

“ You wanna remove the color right? A bowl of shampoo and body wash isnt strong enough” Going into their kitchen she grabbed some baking soda and lemon juice , coming back to the hopeless boy “Let me mix something up ive used before okay? Then we can proceed with your hair” Two and a half hours later the boys hair was now a light peachy orange, just light enough to take up with bleach “Well, if were gonna go for blonde ill go get some bleach and some masks, deep conditioners too, your hair is definitely gonna need it and I don’t want it breaking off because you're impatient to take care of it” she sighed as he was amazed at his hair, running a large hand through the still damp mess atop his head “Wow yer good” He said as she smiled at him, taking her keys “And you have a lot of hair. I'll be back” She said as she hopped up “Wait! Lemme go with you?” He asked but also seemed to demand, pleading eyes looking down at hers as wet hair dropped onto his still bare chest.

Trying not to be hypnotized by where they landed and proceeded to slide down she looked up at her amber eyed friend, who was staring intently as he waited for her answer, soft “Please?” coming from his lips. Sighing dramatically on purpose [ ] laughed at him, giving him a grin “of course you can you big puppy” she said as he picked her up in a hug, a gesture that shows his excitement she's come to learn. Putting her down he went to go to the door before his friend called him out “uhm Kendo? You don’t have on a shirt” she said plainly as he looked at her, raising a brow as he gave his rebuttal “Its hot” He responded. Giving him a side eyed look she turned from him and towards their bedrooms, [ ] sliding into his. Soon she came out with a sleeveless one, throwing it at the hulk of a guy infront of her “You can't come in the store without one” She said as he gave a growl of his own, sliding the shirt over his head as they left their apartment “Well at least ya got me one without sleeves” He huffed as they started back to the door, heading out to finally go to the store to start another process on Kendos hair, the male just excited to finally get rid of his pumpkin hair.

As Kendo sat in the shared living room with [ ] , deep conditioning his hair at her yelling request (‘If you dont re nourish it before you want me to bleach it , I won't do it!’ ) he watched his roommate and now his best friend wanderer around and do housley things for their apartment, the girl content as she cleaned and sorted out things in the kitchen, her body turned away from him as he started to think over how beautiful he thought she was. He want the type to brag or gloat about having so many girls comment on his size , height wised and well sometimes other ways , trying to tempt him to them. All while his friends wanted him to explain how he got the attention from the other gender , Kendo hated to admit it but ,he only wanted his roommates' affection. He knew how put together she was, smart and kind. He saw what her previous boyfriend did, a cheater that didnt take care of the beautiful soul he lived with. He couldnt stand seeing her come home and cry herself to sleep broke his heart, and when he fought the cheater, in the act he didnt feel bad once. Of course it ended their relationship, and [ ] yelled at him for fighting , explaining how he couldve ended in jail for fighting her ex, but he argued it would be worth it.

Sitting and mulling over everything he realized Rumi was right, hed do anything for [ ] but not the same for the other females that passed through his life. She actually, was the first person he did that for and that thought made his head dizzy. Moving from his place on the couch he went to stand in the kitchen, waiting for [ ] to come back from her room. Hearing the iconic sound of her feet pittering across the wooden floor he gave her a lopsided smile as she jumped, smacking into the chest of Kendo. Before [ ] could fall from impacting with his chest he caught her, holding her arm to his chest. “K-kendo! You shouldve told me you were in here! Why are you in here anyway?”[ ] scolded as he laughed, moving out of the shorter girl's way as he started his staring again, this time [ ] noticed him “......What?” She asked as he looked down at her, an unreadable look on his face. “Kendo” she called as he hummed, moving closer “Yer gorgeous” Kendo blurted out as [ ] started to stutter, eyes going wide. Taking teo steps forward he essentially trapped his friend between the corner of their kitchen canopy. “Remember when I fought that bastard of an ex you had?” Kendo asked as he saw [ ]’s eyes go soft , shaking her head “What about him...i'm still mad you almost lost everything just to fight him yknow” she huffed as he poked her cheek “Id do it again if it meant you'd be happy again yaknow” Kendo said as he leaned down to push his head against hers, amber and [ ] eyes mingling. Lifting his large hands he traced each side of her cheek, analyzing over her face as he nuzzled against her nose “Stop playin hard to get would ya? Bad enough you got my heart all in your little hands” he whispered as [ ] just started at the giant , her arms gently coming over to cover his that were place on her cheeks “K-ken..i need to start you hair..” She hopelessly try to argue as he groaned, burying his face into her neck. Squealing at his damp hair touching her shoulder [ ] jumped ,pushing the large boy back “Your hair's wet!” She whined as he chuckleed, mo\ving back as it turned into a booming laugh “Oh my ‘m sorry babe , you look surprised” He said as she smacked hsi chest “Go to the sink, i need to rinse the conditioner” She yelled as he hwld his hands up in a mocked surrender, pulling his shirt up and off in one fluid movement. Caught up by him stripping his shirt off [ ] gave him a glance over, the heaviness of him admitting feelings for her in his own unique way still lingering in her mind as the toned and strong back of her friend made her head hazy. Turning around from the lack of notice of his smaller friend Kendo caught the eys of [ ] staring, her eyes quickly flickering to his curious ones as he grinned “See somethin you like darlin?” He teased as she grunted, reaching up to push his head in the sink “Shut up and let me do your hair”

And like clockwork, Kendo rappa was an icy blonde after two days, a break given to his long ,thick and wavy hair, the giant boy looking over his new look as he sighed happily, loving to have his hair finally look normal. “Well damn [ ]! Ya made it even better than what i was thinking. Look! My hair’s all wavy at the ends and it's soft! Whatever you made me do made it feel better!” He raved as the girl looked over her work. And in fact it was highly even, his hair consistent and lavishy soft. Giving him a shy look she giggle “That's what a deep conditioner will do to damage hair and the way i'm always untangling your hair for you, i knew it would need it before you wanted to go white” She said as he just kept running his hands in his hair, turning back to her “I could just kiss you right now!” He blurted out as they both froze at his words, eyes wide from both parties “I-I aint mean it [ ]” He croaked out as she giggled, stepping back from him “O-of course you didnt, why would you i mean aha..”She said as she moved away more , his own words started to hit him as he realized the reverse effect it was having “NO! No, I'd want to kiss you, I really really want to. I just...want it to be on your terms okay?” he said as he grabbed her arm, holding her in front of him as if she'd float away if he didnt.

“Kendo...I..” [ ] started as she came back to his hip, laying between his legs onto his thankfully covered chest “I just dont want to lose you if you decide you wouldnt want me around” She whispered as he pulled her even closer, kissing her forehead as he stared at her “Dont you ever say that again ya hear me? Youll be my princess and ill be your humble er..knight” He hesitated as he tried to think of a sweet way to explain his feelings. [ ] looked up to him as she felt here eyes feel heavy with tears. Before one even fell Kendo pushed his lips as soft as the strong boy could, wrapping a large and beefy arm around her waist as he slipped his tongue in her mouth, letting his hand slide down to pull her up to sit on the tops of his thighs while he leaned against his dresser. Softly [ ] pushed her hand on his chest and pulled away, now eye to eye with Kendo “Sorry , d-did i overstep my place” He asked as she let out a snot, before laughing. Confused, Kendo went to talk before she stopped him “No no, youre good, just that if we keep kissing on this dressed there's gonna be a hole in the wall” She said as she pointed to where the mirror kept tapping a spot, scrapes already aroring it “R-right!” He laughed too, picking her up to set her on his bed “Now then...lemme serve you princess” He said before kissing her again, not letting her rebuttal his own comment. As the two kissed he made sure to be as gentle as he could be , at times clumsily nipping her lip or his hand pulling hard at her clothes.

All in the name of wanting to show how much she meant to him. Soon he pulled away, a small string of saliva strung between them from the hearty kissing. “[ ]...i think i love you” He said as she gave him a soft look , trying to catch her breath from the dramatic kiss they came from “Good, because i love your loud ass too Kendo” She teased as he smirked,leaning down to bite her neck, causing her to moan loudly “We’ll see whos loud after im done wit ya” he gave his own tease back as he moved between her plump thighs, kissing the flesh there as he pulled her shorts to the side, exposing her flushed lower lips. Gasping she reached for his hand that held her legs apart causing the fresh blonde to look up at her, eyes wandering over her face for signs of him to stop “I-Im not used to being this bare sorry..” She whimpered out as it dawned on the other side of her words “Have you ever ate out baby?” he asked as she hid her face from him, shaking ehr head as he groaned, pulling her shorts down as he saw her lacy panties , a smirk placed on his lips as he peeled them off too, a string of arousal keeping them plastered to her lips “fuck, that bastared really didnt take care of you” he growled as she sat up to see his darkening eyes kiss up to her lips whispering out a “but i will” as he sucked one of her lips into his mouth, causing a lound moan from the woman he was inbetween. Slowly he licked up her lips, searching for that small pearl as she whined, a hand coming down to tug his hair. Grunting he soon found it, sucking onto her clit as she gasped, her thighs shutting over his head as he looked up to her, watching as her back arched off of the bed once her pressed his tongue hard against her clit. Softly he let a hand run under her thigh, a single thick finger tracing over her twitching hole as he pushed it in gently, making [ ] squeal. “K-Ken!” She called out as he looked up again, catching her eyes and flushed face on his actions. Making a show of what he was doing he let a second one join the first as he sucked hard on her bud at the same time making [ ]’s eyes roll back as her hand fell from his head, nervous od pulling too hard. Kendo however had other plans. Feeling her walls tighten around his fingers he made sure to find that spongy spot and hitting it, finally pulling his lips from her clit as he smiled “Uuh Uh doll, look at me” He growled as she hesitantly glances at him, regretting that she did. He looked way too good, hair a mess as he was panting, catching his breath from being down on her. With evry pump of his fingers his muscle in his arm twitched, making her own walls spasm as she watched it “Ya like it sweetheart?” He asked as she shook her head, watching him move back to her pussy “Good, cause i aint done” He said as he gave her clit kitten licks beofe slurping on it, throwing a wink at her as he picked up his pace, making [ ]’s voice rise as she felt herself getting close before quickly snapping at a particular hard thrust of his finger to her spot on her walls.

Letting out a light scream she came over his fingers and tongue, the male laughing gleefully as he sucked up her juices. LEtting her come down some he watched her face as bliss spread through her body and a sense of confidence whent though his. Slowly he picked up the pace of his fingers again, going from a shallow push to more stroking as he heard [ ] whine, grabbing at his hand “Uh uh sweetheart, you taste too good fro me to only let you cum on my tongue once” he said as he pushed her down by her stomach, letting her take his spare hand as he went back to suckling on her lower lips. He knew he had a lot in stored for her, and watching the newly admitted love of his life cum from his pleasing was enough for him to realized he needed to do more. Popping off her clit as puling his fingers gently out he looked at her ravished body, using his non wet hand to pull at his sweats. “Youre beautiful like this [ ]” kendo said as she took in heavy breaths, feeling her throat close as he stroked his massive size, rubbing the swollen head as he looked at her , giving her a soft smile “Ya dont have to take me just yet , hes just throbbin too much” He groaned as he twisted his hand hard over his leaking tip, feeling himself throb as he laid back on his bed. “Ride my face?” he asked with one of the most sinful looks [ ] had ever seen ; lustful eyes watching her as his large hand stroked his larger dick, the soft and fleshy muscle jumping at watching her crawl to him, throwing a leg over his neck

“I-i dont wanna suffocate you..” She said as he smirked before saying “Ya cant suffocate me i want it” Soon he grabbed her hip, pushing her onto his awaiting mouth as he picked up his pace, sliding his tongue into her twitching hole as she rocked her hips, keeping a steady pace as she held herself on his shoulder and headboard, ,depreate moand and cries tumbling out as he rocked her too, going from her clit to her dripping entrance, stoking his dick harder and harde as her moans spurred him on. Soon he felt the bud in his mouth twitch and throb harder, the sounds [ ] made increasing as his own hand sped up with his throbbing head, the telltales of them both getting close. A moan erruptred from the girl on his lips as she came again , her essence running down his face as he groaned, ropes of cum shooting onto his hand and stomach as he came himself, still stroking out what he could as the pressure he felt subside. Sliding off softly [ ] saw the mess behind her, taking it upon herself to lick up some of it as she was met with his same aber eyes, watching her move to his still hard member “Let me take care of you too?” she asked shyly. Fuck he was done for as he felt himslef hardend worse at her words, a large hand coming up to smack her ass as he psuhed her up and over his head, letting his tip and her swollen lips run over eachother. Slowly he pushed his tip past her budding lips, entranced by the way it swallowed her whole “Fuck...i love you [ ] and by the time im done with ya...youll know it” he whispered in her ear as she felet him push, more and moreof his large size spreading her lips father than shed ever had. Her eyes rolled up as she felt him bottom out, both moaning as he picked up his pace, making a soothing rhythm as little moans and whines came from [ ], deep grunts coming from Kendo as he kissed her shoulders and back, marking where he could as he felt himself get closer with how she was throbbing over his member.

Digging his fingers as deep as he could in her plush hips he let our a mantra of ‘Cummin’ i and ‘ I love yous’ in her ear as she pushed back against him, feeling herself teetering as he pushed as deep as he could go ,letting himself cum as she came too, the overwhelming feeling of him throbbing against her spongy walls and previous orgasms enough to push her over a third time. “[ ]” Kendo rasped as [ ] hummed , feeling her legs still shake with him in her “Im serious, i'm never leaving you...you're mine and i love you…” kendo said as he kissed the back of her neck, nibbling her ear as he stayed in her “Mhm….i love you too Rappa..”

[valwentinefics]

First Impressions - Helmut Zemo x Reader (Pride and Prejudice AU) Part 1

The news of a new inhabitant of Netherfield Park has your family excited to meet the rich and single man Mr. Barnes at the upcoming ball. While there you come face to face with his friend, the Sokovian Baron named Helmut Zemo, who seems like he’d rather be anywhere else.

A/n: First part woo! This part was mostly based on the 2005 movie, the next part will follow the book more. I also won’t be doing such accurate lines in the future unless you guys tell me you want me to, I just felt like I should in this to set things up better. I’m also just slapping in marvel characters where I can, I hope you guys don’t mind!

Series Masterlist

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. This opinion was held by the community for the newest inhabitant of Netherfield Park, despite not knowing his opinion on the matter, and the mothers in each of the surrounding families had their hearts set on ensuring that one of their daughters would be the one to stake their claim on the man.

Your chilly hands held a weathered book as you entered the small house, abandoning the crisp and fresh spring air for the warmer indoor air that always seemed to smell slightly of flour. You often read outside while walking, a way to enjoy your hobbies of walking and reading as well as relax in the quiet spring air without your often giggling horde of sisters to interrupt your thoughts as they were doing now.

Your eyes looked to the group of girls gathered outside the door to your father’s study, ears pressed against the wood. You gently bonked your sister Natasha on the head with your book when you saw her straining to hear whatever conversation was happening in the room.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop Natasha.” You scolded your older sister who’s beautiful face turned to a pout at your words. Although you were only the second child you often felt as if you were the oldest.

“Y/n this is different! Mother says Netherfield Park has let at last. It has a young, wealthy, and single inhabitant!” She protested, making you hesitate your retort.

Normally you were not one to indulge in your mother’s gossip about men, but the news piqued your interest. It was no secret to you or your sisters that your family was not doing well when it came to money. With your father aging more by the day and a cousin you hardly contacted set to inherit the property and everything on it once he died, things were not looking good. It was due to this that your mother was frantic when it came to setting up her daughters with suitable husbands. You sighed and pressed your ear to the door, knowing your mother was likely to attempt to set you or one of your sisters up with this newcomer, you were hoping to figure out some things about him before she did.

“How does his fortune affect our girls?” You heard your father, Mr. L/n, ask. You knew he knew the answer, your father was an intelligent man, he just found great enjoyment in pushing at your mothers buttons.

“Mr. L/n!” Mrs. L/n’s exasperated cry could be heard clearer than anything else that had been said earlier. It was as if she wanted the whole world to hear of her plights. “You know it matters because I intend to marry one of them to him!” Marriage seemed to be the only thing on your mothers mind, it was as if she was put on the earth for the sole purpose of getting you and your sisters a husband with good connections.

“Does the man get a choice in this?” You could hear your father chuckle and you had to bite back your own.

“The odds are in our favour with the amount of daughters we have, he very well might fall in love with one of them, which is why you must go see him at once!” Mrs. L/n pleaded, earning a sigh from Mr. L/n.

“You and the girls can go, or you can send them by themselves. Perhaps the latter will work out better, for you are as handsome as any of them. This Mr. Barnes may like you the best of the party if you are in attendance.” He flattered her. You knew it was a mix of sincerity and a way to distract her from her nagging. If nagging was something people could compete in, your mother would likely be world renowned for her skill. 

“My dear, you flatter me. I have had my fair share of beauty, however it is nothing extraordinary now.” Mrs. L/n paused for a second before seeming to remember her mission. “But Mr. L/n, You must visit him! Think of our daughters!”

The door opened, causing your sister Peggy to nearly fall to the ground, caught by your other sister Carol. The greying Mr. L/n smiled at the group of girls gathered outside the door before walking past them, chased by Mrs. L/n.

“Mr. L/n! Mr. L/n! Are you listening to me?” She called out as she followed him.

The older man paused, turning around to look at his wife and daughters who had followed them both. “I don’t see why I must go visit Mr. Barnes for a second time.” A sly grin spread onto his face.

“A second time?” Mrs. L/n gasped. “Oh, how could you tease me? Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?”

“On the contrary my dear, I have the utmost respect for them. They are my old friends, I’ve dealt with them countless times over the years.” He teased, earning an eye roll from his wife.

“Will he be attending the ball tomorrow?” Spoke up Sharon, excitement clearly shown on her face as she looked at your father expectantly.

“I believe so.” Mr. L/n replied, sitting down and watching as your sisters exploded with joy, chattering loudly about what they would wear and pestering him with questions about what the man was like.

You couldn’t help but smile and find yourself excited for the event. It had been a while since you last attended a ball and you looked forward to looking good and getting to see the strange new man. Netherfield Park was an amazing property, and you had heard many good things about the library of the place. The new tenant Mr. Barnes was likely to be an avid reader because of it, and if he was perhaps you could find a friend in him. 

A friend was all you were interested in. Whenever the topic of marriage came up you found yourself zoning out, much to your mothers dismay. Men were either too cocky or too daft, and always too easy to figure out. You wanted someone with substance, someone intelligent enough to keep his cards close to him, whose character you couldn’t figure out as easily as the rest. It would take characteristics like that for you to even begin to grow interest in a man, and even then only the deepest, truest love could persuade you into the chains of matrimony. 

-

The jovial air of the ball made a smile appear on your face as you stood in the corner of the room with Natasha and Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was your very close and trusted friend despite being seven years older than you. Your mother often would go on rants about how you would end up just like her, an unmarried burden to your parents at twenty seven, but you ignored it. Your eyes were trained on the dancing people, your foot slightly tapping to the sound of the music until it suddenly stopped. Your attention snapped to the entrance of the room, spotting three newcomers, two men and a woman. 

“The man with the blue eyes is Mr. James Barnes and the woman is his sister Miss. Rebecca Barnes.” Wanda explained, noticing you and your sister’s confusion. Her father had brought her family to Netherfield to introduce themselves earlier.

“And the man with the bad attitude?” You asked, examining the man accompanying the two. He didn’t seem too happy to be here. He was extremely put together, not a hair out of place and his posture exuding importance. His brown eyes looked around the room, making those who they landed on wonder what they did to deserve the piercing look.

“Baron Helmut Zemo.” Wanda explained. “He comes from Sokovia, rumors say he owns about half of the country.” Your eyes hardened, assuming his reason for being so unimpressed with being in the room must have something to do with his wealth and not wanting to be around so many common people.

“The miserable half of Sokovia clearly.” You scoffed, unable to rip your eyes from him. He would have been attractive if not for the ill temper he seemed to have.

Wanda and Natasha laughed at your comment, the music soon resuming once the group made their way to the other end of the room. You couldn’t help but stare at them, your attention mostly on Baron Zemo as he spoke to no one, despite the Barnes siblings who he had come with mingling with others.

You felt a hand grab your arm and you turned your head to face the person, realizing it was your mother. “Y/n, come, I must have you and Natasha introduced to Mr. Barnes.” She said, hauling you away to the other side of the room as you gave Wanda a pleading look, although you knew she could do nothing to stop your determined mother.

“These are my daughters, Natasha my eldest, and Y/n the second. I have others but they’re already dancing.” She introduced you and your sister. You looked at the group, taking great effort to stop yourself from staring at the Baron, instead examining Mr. Barnes. 

Mr. Barnes was certainly handsome with his dark looks. He was well built, clearly a man who went outside quite a bit, and his striking blue eyes were filled with kindness but had a small darkness within them, despite that you read him as a kind and gentle man who worked past his past mistakes. His eyes stayed primarily on Natasha, and you couldn’t blame him. Natasha was always the most effortlessly stunning sister, but when it came to balls where she put effort in her appearance, she blew everyone away.

“Mr. Barnes, are you liking it here in Hertfordshire?” Asked Natasha, her eyes stayed on him as well. You allowed yourself to glance at the Baron while the two conversed, finding the man standing still and talking to no one, instead looking away from your group and watching the dancing crowd with an unreadable expression.

“Very much.” He replied. You turned your attention back to the conversation to not appear rude, Mr. Barnes was giving your sister a charming smile.

“I’ve heard the library at Netherfield is one of the finest in the country.” You added to the conversation.

“It fills me with guilt, I’m not a very avid reader.” You had expected this from his athletic stature. “I prefer being outdoors. I mean, I can read, and I’m not saying you can’t read outdoors.” He began to ramble, seemingly embarrassed. Despite his kindness he didn’t seem to be too good when it came to socializing, either that or Natasha’s beauty was distracting him as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her even when you had spoken.

“I wish I read more but it always seems as if there's other things to do.” Natasha spoke with a smile, saving Mr. Barnes from his awkward state. 

“That’s exactly what I meant!” He smiled, making Natasha smile in response. You knew they would get along well which would delight your mother.

You felt the warmth of someone's stare, turning your head to see Baron Zemo looking at you. Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones for a few moments, wordlessly trying to figure him out. You heard Mr. Barnes ask Natasha for a dance, and she accepted, leaving you with the Baron.

“Do you dance much, Baron?” You asked, hoping to ease the tension between you two by initiating a conversation.

“Not if I can help it.” He looked away, not seeming to be too pleased with being spoken to. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to consume you. You silently watched your sister dance for the duration of the song before heading to Wanda once it ended.

“What’s wrong?” She asked

“Baron Zemo is a dreadful conversationalist. He seemed so irritated with me just asking him a question, I can’t stand-” You were cut off with a shush, Wanda gesturing to where the Baron and Mr. Barnes were standing nearby, not noticing you two.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place in my life.” Mr. Barnes spoke to his friend.

“You were dancing with the only beauty in the room.” The Baron replied with a scoff.

“She was gorgeous, but what about her sister? Y/n I believe was her name. She seemed intelligent, she asked me about the library. Maybe the two of you would be a good match” He nudged the Baron who sent him a look. Their dynamic was odd, and Y/n couldn’t help but wonder how such a kind man became friends with a man like Baron Zemo.

“She’s tolerable, but isn’t handsome enough to tempt me.” He replied, the two walking away to where Miss. Barnes was. You didn’t care about Baron Zemo’s opinion, but you couldn't help but be offended at his remark.

“If he liked you, you’d have to speak with him. Count your blessings Y/n.” Wanda tried to cheer you up. 

You forced a convincing smile. “I wouldn’t dance with him for all of Sokovia anyways, let alone his miserable half.”

Your joke made Wanda laugh, but your insecurities began to creep through. You had to forcibly stop yourself from dwelling on the Baron's words. He was pompous and judgmental and not worth your time. You looked over to him briefly and saw him looking unimpressed with everything around him. Was that really the man you would let spoil your fun night? He was the most disagreeable and unpleasant man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing you would never have to encounter him after this night.

You stood up, determined to make the best out of the night, and headed to find a partner to dance with. You didn’t want to give the Baron the honour of haunting your thoughts. However, it was hard to keep him out of your mind when as you got in place to dance you felt the prickling of his stare on your back.

-

Taglist:  @killeromanoff  @ay0nha @thesuitkovian @pedropascallovebot @trelaney @hibiscusgardenia @dxnxdjarxn @naivara-duneimith @hiraethmaximoff @farihafangirls @aisling1985 @literatureandqueen​ let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[peekawommy]

The Tale Of The Stars

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader

Genre: Fairytale au, prince!Wooyoung

Words: +2.9k

A/N: This is my first post, I hope that youike reading this as much as I liked writing it. Without further ado, enjoy the reading

Since you were a little kid, your mother used to tell you a fairytale, your favorite fairytale. At that time you hadn't realized that she had made the fairytale up, creating the main female character to your liking but as you grew old and read about all sorts of fairytales you came to the conclusion that it was your mother’s own creation, making you hold it dear to your heart.

When you were younger you wanted to live in that story, so you could find your own Prince Charming and have a happy ending especially since your mother had never added any sort of villain nor monstrous creature to the story in your childhood. When your teens came around and you still asked your mother to tell you about the wondrous story, because you loved how your mother’s eyes sparkled whenever she told the story and the way she seemed to get in character every time, she had changed it up a little.

You remember the day she had told you with a smile 'Princess you're getting older now and you should learn that life is not as beautiful it may seem, even in fairytales’ and with that she started adding new characters to the story, some villains that were ready to take down the princess and her Prince Charming, friends that in the end betrayed the girl and anything her mother could think of to show her daughter just how much the world could be cruel.

Nonetheless, you still knew that the fairytale was your favorite, the story your mother liked to call ‘the tale of the stars’.

But now you were older, in the beginning of adulthood and you knew that your life would never become the fairytale you had wished upon when you were younger. You had responsibilities to attend to, friends to care for and a life that you couldn't leave behind. As of right now you were getting ready for work, your part time job that you had so you could pay for your education. College was one of your big responsibilities, sometimes you wish you could just drop out at some point, the stress it caused you was becoming too much but your future depended on it.

Once you were ready, you took your bag with all of your necessary stuff that you needed for work and later on classes. You thanked your past self for having chosen afternoon classes because the classes were not crowded and it was easier for you to have a job and study. As last, you took your keys and then you were out of your door, walking towards your car and driving off to start your day.

After a long day of school, you finally got home, feeling exhausted from all of the day's activities. No matter how long you’ve been doing all of that you couldn't get used to how tiring working and studying was and getting home late at night. Although you never got used to it, it became your routine. You come home, tidy your small apartment a little bit, make food for yourself, watch a little bit of Netflix and then go to bed. At times you realize that your life was dull, nothing seemed to bring you excitement anymore.

It was in those moments that you wished you did live in a fairytale, no matter what happened, there will always be some type of adventure going on, something bigger than having to decide if you were going to eat beef flavored ramen or chicken flavored ramen. Unfortunately that was impossible and the best you could do was get your degree and move to another city in hopes to start a new, hopefully more exciting life.

With a small sigh, you shook your head and moved on to take your clothes and take a shower.

After the shower you decided on skipping dinner and going directly to bed ‘what an exciting change from my routine’ you thought for yourself. Quickly, you got under the bedsheets and let your body relax. No matter what, your favorite time of the day is when you get to lay down in your bed and rest.

Since you were tired from the day you had, it didn’t take you long to fall asleep. In less than ten minutes you had already fallen into a deep sleep to which you would have hoped it was a dreamless sleep.

The next thing you know, you were hearing small noises as you were pretty sure it was something in your dream but it felt way too real to be a dream. Although you were confused, you could still feel a calming peace inside of you, as if you were in the most comforting place you have ever been, as if you were home.

"Excuse me lady, wake up...wake up, this isn’t a safe place to sleep” A voice, which seemed to be distant, called and with a small frown you started to wake up.

Like always, when you were woken up by someone, you let out a small whine and just turned to the other side while mumbling ‘five more minutes mom’. it took you a moment to realize that your bed did not feel like it was supposed to. It normally was comfy and warm yet now it felt hard, ticklish and slightly...humid? That seemed to fully wake you up as you frowned and slowly opened your eyes. At the bright light, your eyes squinted and you groaned light but the second thing you noticed was the sudden green that invaded your sight.

Now you understand why it felt so different because you were not in your bed but somehow you were laying on some grass. You confusedly sat yourself up and looked around, having no clue of where you were or why you had woken up there. All you could see were trees around you and the bright morning sun shining down on the leaves, making the dew drops on them visible. It seemed like you were in a forest.

“I am sorry to disappoint you but I am most definitely not your mother.” A deep voice startled you from your confused daze.

Everything just kept making less and less sense for you, you couldn’t remember when you had fallen asleep next to a guy nor did you recognize the voice. Had you been drunk the day before? Not that you could remember, all you could remember was taking a shower, going to bed and waking up in this weird yet beautiful place.

Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you slightly turned to the man standing beside you, which apparently you have only noticed now to be there. As your eyes laid upon the boy, or rather man next to you, you couldn’t believe your eyes, he was the most handsome guy you have ever seen in your life. His blond hair was perfectly combed back, his lips set in a visible amused smile, his clothes seemed to be elegant although rather old-fashioned, as if he came out of one of those medieval fairs and he had cosplayed as a king or a prince. You were about to comment on his choice of clothes but you were cut off by yourself as you noticed that your clothes weren’t the clothes you had fallen asleep with, you were sure that you didn’t even have that outfit in your closet. You were wearing a white dress which was long-sleeved and a black corset was hugging the top of the dress closer to your body, every curve of the body being accentuated because of it.

You probably looked quite crazy or weird to the boy beside you as you were looking at your clothes like it was the first time you were seeing them, let alone wearing them. You looked like you were out of place, like you did not belong there. The boy was trying to figure out if he had seen you before but he quickly decided that he had not met you before, he most definitely would have remembered your face, which contained a beauty that seemed to be different yet still ethereal.

“Where am I? Who are you?”You asked, your voice slightly raspy and strained as if you hadn’t used your voice in ages. It was quite uncomfortable so you cleared your throat a few times and hoped that your voice had gone back to its normal state.

The unknown man stared down at you and contemplated his choices, should he introduce himself and answer you or just leave you there and let you figure it out yourself. Fortunately for you, it wasn’t in the boy’s nature to just leave someone that seemed to be in need and besides he didn’t think that you would be any danger to him.

“I am Prince Jung Wooyoung, son of the King of Aldshore and successor to the crown and you are in my father’s kingdom” The boy introduced himself.

Your face morphed into an even more confused expression but this time it also held surprise within it. For some reason his name and the name of the place where they were were very familiar to her yet she couldn’t place her finger on why they were familiar. You searched in your mind to find a reason as to why it sounded so familiar yet all the places that you knew about on earth didn’t have any the name of this so-called kingdom and you would remember if there was a kingdom called Aldshore.

Then it suddenly clicked in your mind and your eyes widened at the memory. You knew exactly what that place was and who the boy was but now you were thinking that the guy must be kidding you and that it was some kind of prank. That place and the boy belonged to the fairytale that your mother had created and told you for years and years. It had taken you a while to remember because it had been years since you'd last heard the story since you were now a young adult and didn’t live with your mother anymore.

“You are joking right? If this is a prank, let me tell you that it is not funny now tell me where I am and why I am wearing these clothes. Were you the one changing me from my clothes? You creep” You let out loudly and stood up suddenly, just wanting to go home since you had to study for an upcoming exam.

Looking around, you realized that you had no idea where you were and you seriously doubted that you would be able to find your way home on your own when all you could see was trees and a clear trail where it seemed to extend for miles.

“I am sorry but I do not joke around when it comes to my title, my lady, and what does that word mean that you said, p-prank was it? Anyways I assure you that I was not the one that changed your garments, I would never take a lady’s clothing without her being my concubine or unless she gives me her consent to do so”

The prince answered, his eyes furrowed deep in confusion. The way you spoke was so different from what he was used to. He knew that you both were speaking the same language yet it sounded weird, more vulgar than his language. It quite shocked him how you had spoken to him, no one had dared to speak to him in such a tone and he for sure had never been called a creep before. Wooyoung didn’t know if he should be furious or be amazed that you had talked to him in such a way.

Suddenly you let out a laugh at the situation just thinking that it was all a big joke and that he was just a great actor but when you noticed that his face stayed unchanged, your laughter started to die down and you looked at him trying to find any type of humor present in his face but unfortunately you found none. Slowly but surely you were starting to believe him yet you couldn’t wrap your head around it, it was all supposed to be made up, a story told for little children and not real and standing in front of you.

“Am I dead? Is this my type of heaven? If so I want to talk to whatever god that made me come here because I need to have a talk with them” you asked more to yourself than to the boy still standing next to you.

The boy could not help but let a chuckle out before shaking his head at the question “I’m sorry, my lady, but you are definitely not dead unless I am talking to a spirit”

You could feel a huge headache forming as your brain tried to make any sense out of all that was happening. You decided to play along for now, hoping that somewhere along the way it all would make sense. With a little hesitation, you turned towards the so called prince and gave him a small tight smile

“I apologize I realized that I haven't introduced myself yet, I am Y/N. I am very sorry for behaving like this but…” you started but you remembered that you could not tell the truth of why you were behaving like that so you quickly made up a lie “I think I’ve lost my memory and I can't remember anything besides my name and my mother”

The prince seemed to believe you as his face turned into one of understanding. Prince Wooyoung was starting to pity you since you couldn't remember anything, for all he knew you were not even from his kingdom. He instantly made a decision to let you stay at the castle during the time that would be necessary to get your memory back. The boy smiled and nodded to show that he did not take offense in the way you had behaved nor in the way you had talked to him, he was sure that he would have reacted in a similar way if he was in the same situation you were in - in the situation he thought you were in.

“It’s alright, lady Y/N, I understand why you behaved like that and I do not blame you, if it had been another royal, they might have not been as forgiving as I am. Fortunately for you, I do not like seeing people in need of help, especially someone as beautiful as you, so I am offering you a place in my castle to stay in until you remember more about your life.” The young prince offered as he put a charming smile on his face.

The prince did know how to charm any lady in the kingdom, even some men too but you could not focus on that, the only thing that really mattered to you for now was how you ended up waking up in a fairytale and how the hell you would go back to your world. After his offer you just chuckled awkwardly and rubbed your arm, a nervous habit that you had, and blushed softly at the compliment.

“Oh I don’t want to bother you, prince Wooyoung, you probably have more important matters to attend to than having to help an unknown and lost girl” you answered as your head bowed slightly in embarrassment. "Nonsense I am more than glad to help you besides I can attend to those matters while also taking you in, I can multitask and I will also request a servant to be at your service, helping you with whatever you may need” The prince waved her reasoning.

You knew that there was no way you could refuse his offer, you remember how your mother had described the boy as stubborn and headstrong so all you could do was nod and accept the offer. Wooyoung couldn’t help as a bright smile grew on his face and holding a hand out to you so that he could guide you out of the forest and towards the castle but all you did was return his smile with your much smaller own smile before starting to walk in a random direction. This did surprise the prince that you had rejected his hand but he did not do anything about that as he let his hand fall to his side.

The boy suddenly laughed and smirked, which made you stop in your tracks before looking at him with a raised eyebrow because you could not understand why he was laughing out of nowhere. The blond boy only pointed in another direction and grinned innocently.

“The castle’s that way, if you go that way you might get lost and eaten by whatever animal lives in this forest” He explained which made your face redden in embarrassment and just turn towards the direction he was pointing to and walk without any word to avoid any further embarrassment. The boy just snickered to himself as he shook his head before going after you, jogging a little to catch up with you since you had already advanced quite a bit.

‘This girl is most certainly very interesting’ Wooyoung thought to himself before starting to explain the way back to the village and his house - the castle - and explaining every single building or house on the way there

[venusdeus]

Court of Kings - Chapter 3

Summary: Sent to a neighboring kingdom to secure an alliance, forced to give up your dreams and ambitions, disregarded as a means to an end. You however have no desire to fulfil their wishes. And neither does Oikawa.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x female reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy, angst, royalty au, arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers au (enemies to allies to friends to lovers), eventual smut?

Word count: 2380

Warnings: All the characters are adults unless specified. This chapter is sfw. Minors do not interact.

Notes: This is Part 3. To start from the prologue, you can use this link. This chapter finally ties into the events of the prologue.

Masterlist

Part 2 <…> Part 4

“Do you play cards your Highness?” the Mistress of the House, Countess of Webstier asked a few hours into the journey.

After a strenuous fifteen day ride up north you have finally arrived at the border that separated the two kingdoms, yours and Seijoh, at the first light of dawn.

When Tooru left two weeks into his arrival you were not given sufficient time to stomach the idea of your upcoming union with the rude prince before you were cast into a carriage with two of your ladies in waiting, chosen by the trusted council to spy on you no doubt, and sent on your marry way, followed by countless guards and staff.

You did not confide in them of course, for you could not. If you were to even say anything negative about the smallest thing, you knew they would carry it back. They already disliked you enough as it was, as to them you were a spoiled princess that did not appreciate her status and her wonderous fate. Oh, how they wished they were betrothed to such a fine man, the most desired bachelor in this part of the world no doubt, and they could not seem to stop talking about it.

The talks bordered on being completely inappropriate most the time, comments on his looks and his skills in different ways thrown out constantly, followed with giggles. So, you sat there silently, looking out the window and occasionally tasting the wine that seemed to be never ending.

The only time you had some peace and quite was when the others were asleep, but then again you gave up your own rest to be able to listen to your thoughts for a short while.

So, when the carriage doors opened at the border for your official handover you were quick to follow. And when they told you that your ladies could not come with you any further, you did not feel disappointed. They were never really your friends anyway.

You thought with the short time between your leave and your fiancé’s, you would have arrived at Seijoh around the same time, or maybe even caught up halfway. Against your expectations however, you were told that the Prince arrived at the kingdom a few days ago but travelled west to pay his respects to his late uncle who passed away three weeks prior when he was visiting your court, while you still had half a month to go.

It was because you traveled heavy with gifts and all the staff that accompanied you, the Countess said once you were introduced. She was an older woman with a stern tone and frown that never left her face. Her thin eyes looked as cold as the harsh winters that her nation was famous for. It was evident that she or any other woman that was assigned to accompany you to the palace did not approve of you. It was not their place to comment on it of course, but you could see it in their manners.

See that they thought you were a child when they took away your dark red dress that they said was behind the current style before dressing you in light blues inside a tent that was fashioned in the middle of the woods where the handover took place. You could see it when they put your hair in a tight bun that sat awkwardly against your face. When they tightened the corset to the point of taking your breath away. And you could see it when they put countless pearls and diamonds against your neck.

You thought you resembled one of your dolls that sat in your room back home with all the unnecessary display of wealth that were thrown on you.

“I’m afraid not.” You lied meeting her eyes “I prefer chess.”

“You must learn soon than. It is quite popular among the ladies at court.” She smiled cockily.

Just as you have crafted your false persona that of a naïve child back at your old home, you thought to continue the act in your new one. It also helped that when you robbed all of them on the card table from their money, they blamed it on luck. The first few times of course, as they would get used to it in no time just like they did in the past.

“Once we arrive you will be presented to the King first. You will not meet his Highness Prince Tooru for another week until the official ball to celebrate your engagement.” She said when you were two days away from your arrival at the palace.

They were using his first name, you pondered. You always made it a point to call him with his title, or simply as Oikawa, but his subjects did not deem it inappropriate to use his first name.

You knew there would be a difference between the cultures of two nations but the people at the Seijoh court seemed to be too unrestrained in their escapades as well as their morals. Although, it was a stark contrast to how they behaved towards you. This cleared the doubts that clouded your mind over the two-week journey from the border to the capital. They were cold to you because you were a foreigner.

This did not dampen your mood in the slightest. On the contrary, suddenly you were excited to be introduced to the court, a sly smirk forming on your face. You wanted to see the reaction the ladies would have when they learnt their beloved bachelor prince was now betrothed to an ignorant foreign girl. Would they be appalled? Angry? It made you giddy to anticipate their reaction.

On the last day of the ride however, right after the outskirts of the capital became visible to you, a plan formed in your head.

You would simply leave.

Bid your time until all the official appearances were over and done with and just leave. They certainly would not expect you to make an escape alone in a foreign land so you would use this as an opportunity. You had a week to learn your way around the palace.

Of course, it was never your intention to be gone forever. You knew better than trying your chances as a woman in the outside world all alone. It was to stall enough time until the wedding arrangement would be delayed. Where you would go however, was a topic that you needed to reflect more upon.

The solution though, came to your feet without you even trying, in the form of a ditzy little thing called Lady Alisa.

She was introduced to you at your arrival to the palace to accompany you till you were to be presented to your fiancé once more, this time formally. You were yet to be given your own ladies in waiting so they opted to bring a temporary solution with this tall and beautiful blonde.

“I live in our estate two-hour ride away from here towards the east, with my mother and my younger brother. Father passed away not long ago you see.” She rattled on as you walked through the corridors “My brother inherited the title after him. Now he goes by Earl Lev, I hope I can introduce you at the ball. But of course, you could visit our estate whenever you wanted to your Highness!”

You did not sense any malicious intent or lies behind her words. She simply was an innocent woman that did not understand that a Princess that were to be married in a weeks’ notice to the Crown Prince would never be able to visit her.

But you were thankful, as her innocence gave you the perfect escape. They would believe that you, a credulous girl, decided to pay a last-minute visit to her newfound friend who was as gullible as she was, to sooth the excitement that was to come. So, you played the part of a good friend.

When they found you, surely the wedding day would almost be over, and with all the guests on their way back home they would be forced to delay it for another month or two. They would never say that the princess was gone of course. Probably they would make up an excuse that would save them face. And you did not care for their reputation.

Just like how Oikawa did not care for yours when he insisted on being alone at the greenhouse.

You would leave the palace the night before your wedding by hiding from the watchful eye of the guards and take the carriage to the estate of Lady Alisa. Or at least that was the plan you made in haste.

You spent a week as a mere guest before your engagement was announced in a feast given in your honor on the seventh day, followed by a ball in which everyone who was anyone attended. That is when you were formally presented to Oikawa where you walked hand in hand to the floor where you had the first dance of the night.

“I remember you telling me that you would never marry me.” You whispered in his ear when you were sure no one else could hear “How sure you were of yourself.”

“The night is still young dear.” He replied, “Anything could happen.”

His answer sent a shiver down your spine, fearing he might have figured your scheme. But how could he when you never told anyone.

You were right about the reaction of others of course. Some ladies were left in tears when they were supposed to smile and clap right after the announcement. One even swooned! Although it was entertaining to watch you thought, tomorrow they could rejoice.

You were quite lucky to be given a room on third floor, not too high from the ground, and what is more right above the road that led to the stables. You waited until what you thought was a time that all the guests and the royal family went to bed to start your mischief.

You refused the maids that wanted to help you change out of your dress to your nightgown, saying you wanted to be left alone, after all when you appeared on Lady Alisa’s doorstep you had to look presentable.

Tying the linens around your bed together, once the palace engulfed in silence, you swung them over the open window in a desperate attempt. It was the only way to leave your room without the guards that were situated behind your door noticing.

Just when you wobbled your way down to the second floor, your arms shaking from carrying your weight, you were startled from a noise coming above you where others resided. It did not take long before a lengthy rope was tossed to the garden below. Shocked to silence over the possibility of being caught by palace guards you seized your movements.

Nothing, however, could prepare you for the eyes you caught as the person responsible for your concern made his way down to your level. He looked as terrified as you were when you came face to face, momentarily losing his balance before quickly gaining his posture by placing his feet on the walls, his hands gripping your sheets.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he hissed.

Apparently not only did Oikawa have similar feelings towards his soon to be wife as you did to him, but he also had the same idea on how to escape his current position, as he was trying to leave the castle in his nightgown by dangling himself out the windows of the tower to reach the stables.

Even though you wanted to answer him with a question of your own you could feel the strength leaving your body.

He must have seen your torment however as he started climbing down quickly.

“Try to come down slowly, I will catch you at the end.” He whispered as you tried to balance yourself over the wall.

“Bend your knees and let go.” He said once you were close enough “Do it now Princess.”

Silenced into submission over his kind voice you let go of the sheets only to be caught by strong arms followed by a grunting sound.

You took a deep breath when your feet touched the ground. Your newfound relief did not last long however as Oikawa caught your wrist in a bear like grip and turned your body around to face his.

“Now tell me you insufferable woman what do you think you are doing?” he spat lifting both your hands over your head, practically pinning you to the palace walls.

“What were you doing you bear of a man?” you gritted your teeth “Let me go you are hurting me!”

He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted as both of your heads snapped right, towards the sound of a loud gasp that came just next to you, his hands quickly letting you go.

And there stood a group of twenty to thirty guests that were in attendance that day laughing and jeering while coming down the gardens, most probably from a walk to sober up.

“Love birds couldn’t wait till tomorrow evening!” a man yelled behind the group making you and Oikawa jump away from each other “To be young and in love!”

And that is how to both your horror, your entire plan crumbled to the pieces and the rumor that the naïve foreign Princess and the insatiable rake Prince Tooru were a love match started in a single night.

Reblogs are appreciated! English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes let me know.

I would love it if you could give me feedback! Thank you!

Disclaimer: No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without permission. I do not own the character of Oikawa Tooru. This is a work of fiction.

TAG LIST: Let me know if you want me to tag you. If your name is in bold it means I can’t tag you.

@sassyglassesbunny @triskoof @m-a-r-i-a-s-b-l-o-g @heroesfan101​ 

[soradragon]

I have a reauest if you have the time! Shinsou and Reader where Reader isn't scared of Shinsou's quirk and talks to him a lot and Shinsou is like "Nice person? Is this love?" (Tbh, I'd rather it end with just friends, but if you want romance then go for it) PS: Will you write for female characters if it isn't romantic?

Soup To Heal The Aches

~summary~

You were very odd in Shinso’s eyes. A transfer student who’s not even in his class keeps seeking him out to hang out. And you don’t seem to be afraid of him. After finding out you just want to be his friend, he has come to welcome your presence. Making his life brighter. Until one day you suddenly don’t show up.

~~

Thank you for your request my dear @kawayuni !! I absolutely loved writing this fic!! And yes! I’ll write for female characters if it’s platonic like friendship! I also write for characters without reader like for example a fic about baku squad hanging out at the beach for example!

This is a platonic x reader fic but you can also see it as romantical however you wanna see it! ^^

Anyway! Come chat with me about fun things or story ideas! my box and dms are always open for you guys!

Warnings; angst with a happy end!

Shinso x gender neutral reader (in what way is for you to decide!^^)

Check out my main masterlist if you liked what you read!

If you want to be tagged in the next upcomming fic don’be afraid to ask me!^^

Please leave a little comment or reblog to let me know you liked it! I greatly appreciate it!^^

Anyway, enjoy^^

~~~~

You were a mystery to him, an odd, peculiar student, you were so different from the rest, a big contrast to the other students.

Ever since you transferred to UA, you've been stuck to Shinso like glue, going to him with all your questions, sitting next to him in lunches etc. Which was quite strange since the two of you were not in the same class. You could have gone to any of your classmates, some even went up to you to offer their help. Yet you politely reclined most of them and went towards Shinso.

You weren't annoying him or crossing some boundaries of his - you've asked if what it was ok if you sat next to him or talked to him, he didn't mind - it just left him confused is all.

After all, you knew what he was capable of, knew that he could use his quirk on you any time he wanted. Yet still, you talked with him, running up to him when you found him admits the horde of students wandering through the hall only to chat and actually listen to his opinions. 

One day, he had asked you why you gravitated towards him when there are so many others you could be hanging out with.

Your response was quite unexpected: Your head had shot up from your lunch, staring at him as if he had just grown five separate heads.

"What..?" you had asked, thinking you hadn't heard him correctly Shinso repeated the question. After a moment of rapid blinking, you started to pout, frowning at your shoes you spoke, "is it so wrong that I just feel comfortable around you? You're nice and easy to talk to, can't that be enough reason to want to be your friend?"

Your words had surprised him, he had to admit. Your reasoning was simple and straightforward, leaving no room for doubt, it left him with a warm feeling. Not that cliche, warm, fluttery feeling characters out of a novel get when they fall in love. No, it didn't feel like that, it was the kind of warmth people get when they finally found someone who understands them, a friend who was trustworthy and wouldn't leave till the end of time. 

It was new... but a good kind of new. 

A couple of months passed, and he had started to accept the fact that you were his friend now. Hanging out most days when both of you were free. 

You sitting in the support class gave you more freedom then Shinso. Thus when he wasn't free because of the amounts of homework he had to do, you would come over to help him out, sitting on his bed while he sat at his desk, mulling over the questions. 

While your feet would dangle in a childlike enthusiasm, you gave him some good points and observations when Shinso was stuck, opening his eyes to different views he hadn't thought of before.

Shinso had become so accustomed of you being next to him that he couldn't think of a future without you by his side. Which is why he now was at such a loss. 

Normally, you would already sit at your usual table at lunch, waiting for him. But when Shinso arrived at the cafeteria, he couldn't find your excited self waving at him. He checked his phone; no messages from you.

...Odd...

Shinso had pushed it to the side though, thinking you were held up by your lecture and you couldn't message him because of reasons. That had to be it.

He convinced himself that it was nothing and took a seat at your usual table, deciding switch things up and wait for you instead.

Surely you would arrive shortly.

You didn't come...

Shinso was more than confused, a bit hurt even.

Why didn't you show up? Did he do something wrong? Didn't you want to be friends anymore?

His thoughts went immediately to the worst, frowning he pushed down. That couldn't be... Surely there was an explanation.

Slight dread pooled inside his stomach, yet he pushed on. Convincing himself you were just busy a-and forgot to tell him, yeah, that got to be it.

Shinsou ruffled his hair to shake him from his doubts.

A thing you used to do when you knew Shinso was getting stressed, doing it himself didn't soothe him like when you did it. It just felt empty.

Shinso shook his head, deciding to wait and see. You would probably meet him when school ends for your daily hangouts, apologizing a hundred times for missing lunch together.

Shinso smirked, thinking about how he could tease you for making him concerned wait.

But when the time came, you weren't there. 

Now worry really started to set in. 

Did he scare you off? Surely he didn't, you firmly told him you didn't mind him and his quirk.

Did he anger you in some way? That couldn't be it either, you were not one to avoid someone after a conflict, trying to resolve it instead.

So many thoughts flooded inside Shinso's mind, each one he had a counter for except one...

You didn't care for him anymore, you didn't want to be friends anymore...

That set his mind in a destructive path, all kind of emotions swirled inside of him, he wanted to cry, panic, scream, find you, run away, so many he couldn't keep up. 

It hurt.

His chest ached, his brain stopped working, it was just a blank space except for a couple words:

It was his fault.

He didn't notice it, but he had slumped down on a bench, staring at nothing while gripping his head. 

Where did he go wrong? Everywhere, of course, why else would you leave. He was broken, awkward and unsocial. You must have gotten sick of his angst, must have gotten sick of his quiet self. Stupid, of course, you left. You deserved friends so much better then he could ever be.

A sudden tap on Shinso's shoulder woke him up, he shot his head up only one word stumbling out of his mouth in the sudden awakening from his trance.

"Huh...?"

It was a student, one he didn't recognize though.

They panted while trying to form words.

"A-are you...called...Shinsu...?"

Shinso stared at the student for a moment, not fully grasping the situation before nodding slightly. The slip up of his name going unnoticed to Shinso.

The student let out a sigh of relief, "thank god, you have no idea how hard it is to find you, I've been searching for you the entire day."

He said after catching his breath, grinning victoriously to himself like he just won the lottery.

"Y/N told me you wouldn't be hard to miss, boy were they wrong! Doesn't matter, now I'll get free food for a week!"

The boy laughed to himself, but Shinso didn't pay him any attention, your name echoed inside his head.

"Y/N..?"

Shinso asked hesitantly, looking up slightly unsure. 

The boy nodded vigorously, "yes! They asked me to find you and tell you They couldn't meet up today since they're sick! Aaand... their phone fell in the toilet...That phone still smells like the fish from last night..."

"Sick...?"

"Yeah, there was something wrong in Y/N's food."

"Where are they now?"

"In bed at the campus, dude - hey, where are you going?"

The boy called out with confusion laced in his voice as Shinso rushed towards the dorm without giving the boy a thank you.

His mind was somewhere else, concerned thoughts of you circled around his mind he had to go to you and see if you were ok.

*(*)*(*)*

You were rudely awakened from your sleep by a soft knock on the door. You groaned as you rubbed your heavy eyes, "mgnnn...come in..."

The door was slammed open not a second later - which was not good for your searing headache - a worried Shinso barged in afterwards. 

At least he had the mind to close the door softly before rushing to your side.

"Hey Y/N..." 

Shinso mumbled softly, brushing some damp hair out of your face.

You squinted up at him, he had a soft smile on his face and a paper bag in his other hand. 

"...Why do you look like you've run a marathon...?"

You slurred out weakly, making Shinso laugh, "well, I kinda did," he said, gesturing to the bag in his hand. "Had to get some necessary items to help fix you up. Want some soup?"

Your eyes slightly widened as you watched Shinso turn around towards your little kitchen. (It wasn't really a kitchen, it only had a sink, a small refrigerator and a microwave) 

"You don't have to do that...Don't you have homework to worry about...?"

You tried to call out to him, but your voice was too hoarse to make much sound. Luckily he heard you, turning his head to look over his shoulder. Shinso smirked, bringing a finger to his lips, "don't strain your voice Y/N, you should be resting."

Oh, he could be such a jerk sometimes.

"Don't give me that look Y/N, I came as fast as I could when I heard you were sick."

You frowned. "Didn't Taka tell you not to worry...?"

"Heh, he probably did, but I hurried here when he said the words 'sick' and 'you'. It was all I needed."

Shinso chuckled to himself as he put the canned soup in the microwave. Leaning against the counter to watch you. 

"And I'm not going until the fever breaks," he said before smirking. "Or when the teachers finally manage to drag me out of your room." 

You groaned, burying yourself deeper into the blankets, the only reasonable thing in this room apparently.

Shinso snorted at your antics before grabbing a bowl out of the cupboard when the microwave started to beep. He carefully grabbed the can out of the microwave, remembering all the times he burned his fingers because he wasn't careful enough. 

It was too many times for his taste. (You love to tease him about it every now and again.) 

Shinso moderately poured - to avoid spilling the hot substance onto the counter - the soup into the bowl, adding a spoon soon after. 

Shinso smiled at his creation, satisfied with his cooking skills he brought it to you. 

"Wakey, wakey sleepyhead. Got some food."

Shinso said, poking you softly to help wake you up. You groaned in response, sitting up you looked at him with a dazed expression and coloured cheeks.

"Huh...? Waa...?" You mumbled, Shinso snorted at your coherent speech.

"Got food," he said, holding up the bowl as proof. "Can you eat yourself, or do I need to feed you?" 

You glared at him, wishing you had enough strength to slap that smirk off his face. But alas, the revenge plan would need to come later. 

"...Could you be anymore blunt..." You mumbled under your breath, glaring at the bowl of soup in Shinso's hand.

The man in question just sniggered, offering you the bowl as he spoke, "well, not to fret, you've still got your snark." Your glare had become even fiercer. "That's some good news at the very least."

"...Go to the moon..." You replied after taking a spoonful of soup.

Shinso's smirk got even wider, "I would love to for you Y/N, but first I'm going to take care of you. Maybe try that request again later."

You grumbled under your breath as you continued eating, refusing to look at him. Your blanket was far more interesting than his stupid teasing smirk.

Shinso grabbed a stool to sit next to you, watching as you ate the soup in your hands, continuing to ignore him.

Shinso's smirk turned soft as he watched you. 

It felt good, the teasing and comfortable atmosphere hanging around the two of you, he wouldn't have it any other way. 

It just felt right. 

The dynamic you both have is something Shinso treasures dearly, a friend like you will only appear once in a lifetime. He's glad he's found you, his world has become a lot brighter thanks to your presence.

You looked up from your bowl, which startled Shinso out of his trance. He tilted his head when you glanced towards him with a calculating expression.

"Hm?"

You smiled, "...oh, it's nothing...I was just thinking..."

"Thinking?"

"...Yeah...I think I'm just very grateful you came instead of going to your own dorm...I think...I would've been a bit lonely without you here, so...Thank you for not listening to my advice..."

Shinso's eyes widened considerably, gawking at your smile. Although you looked sick, Shinso thought your smile was radiant. 

Yeah, Shinso felt like the luckiest person in the world.

~~~~

Thank you for reading! And keep soaring high!^^

~~~~

Sora’s Rambles!

If you are on a tag list of a fandom or requested something you will get notified for Sora’s rambles. When I’m working on that fandom or request, i will post little ramblings about the story I’m working on, a sort of teaser if you will. If you don’t want to be notified on Sora’s rambles please let me know^^ ~~

Forever taglist

@vasharts-blog @an-adventureland @theincaprincess @strongholdinthedark @hannah-emily-zhang

[wicked-game-black-butler]

I just wanted to share some things I’ve realized while trying to write these past several months. None of these points are groundbreaking, but I hope that these thoughts encourage anyone else out there who might be struggling.

1. Don’t forget to take breaks. Just like in any other area of life, one’s well of creativity cannot always be full. And if you draw from one too much, soon you’ll find yourself empty and scraping spoonfuls when you had buckets a few months before. So take time to step back and feed your creative soul. Read other stories. Binge watch a series you love. Take walks in nature. Listen to music. Whatever feeds you, do it. And, also, show yourself some grace- some people’s well takes longer to replenish than others and that’s ok.

2. Burnout is a bitch. Related to the point above, creating to the point of burnout is dangerous to the creative process, yet it is so easy to do. But, if you’re anything like me, it’s easy to just keep pushing and pushing and pushing  until you’re struggling to write 100 words a night because every word you put on the page just seems like complete shit. Part of it is because you get tired of “hearing your own voice”, so to speak. It’s kind of like eating the same thing every day until you’ve grown so used to it, you can’t tell if it’s any good anymore. So, switch things up. Take a break and read something from another writer so that when you go back to your work, it sounds fresh. Also, something I’ve found helpful is using text to speech apps. There have been times when I’ve been feeling uncertain about if a chapter or section is any good and then I’ll throw it into text to speech. And you know what? 99% of the time, I find myself wanting to hear more when the section is finished! It may not seem like much, but sometimes that validation is important to keep a writer going.

3. Whatever you can do is good enough. This is something that’s taken me awhile to realize. I follow several writers on social media, so I hear things all the time like “write every day, even if you end up having to scrap it” or “write X amount of words a day” if you want to be a good writer. And, as someone who wants to be a published original author someday, I took those words to heart. But, with what has been going on with my health, I have come to learn that those ideas don’t always work. I have only written around 600 words this week because I couldn’t do more than that. But, you know what? That is good enough. It doesn’t matter if you’ve written a chapter or a paragraph in the last six months. If writing is your passion, having done it at all is accomplishment enough. And both are equally as valid.

4. Talking with other people about your story is important. This was something I realized just this week. I was talking with one of my very close friends and the topic of my story came up. Since she’s been one of the original people to ever know about it, I discuss plot, upcoming events, characters, etc. with her. And, as I kept explaining what I have planned for this chapter, the more I found myself getting excited about it again, especially since she was excited about it as well. Getting to share things about our stories and seeing reader’s reactions is so fundamental for the creative process. This is why there are so many posts about commenting on fics or sending asks. Because, while creators generate the content they do because they love what they’re doing so much, the creative process dies when there aren’t many out there who are showing they enjoy it.

I know this was a bit long, but I hope it helps in some way. Creators- don’t forget to take care of yourselves. Supporters- don’t forget to feed your creators with comments, asks, or screaming in the tags of posts. 

I hope you’re all staying safe and healthy. xx

[waitimcomingtoo]

Oh My God, They Were Roommates

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You’re tired of denying your relationship in every interview, but Tom insists on keeping it a secret. Lucky for you, he’s terrible at keeping secrets

Masterlist

Secretly dating Tom Holland was not an easy job. You were his on and offscreen girlfriend, no people naturally wanted you to be together in real life. Towards the beginning of your relationship, you both agreed to keep it private. You’d managed to deny relationship rumors for over a year until you discovered something:

You and Tom were really really bad at keeping it a secret. 

Far too many times, you’d do or say something that confirmed your relationship. And far too many times, you’d have to go on twitter to say it was a joke and that you and Tom were just friends. You hated lying to your fans about the nature of your relationship, and Tom wasn’t fond of it either. You didn’t want to lie anymore. You were ready for the world to know. And yet, the worst secret keeper in Hollywood was determined to keep it a secret.

It all started with social media.

You had stirred up rumors that you and Tom were dating when you dyed your hair red after being cast as MJ and posted a photo of it, captioning it “Face it tiger…”. Tom couldn’t help himself from commenting “I hit the jackpot.” The Spider-Man and MJ reference did not go over people’s heads and the rumors were born.

“This would be such a cute way to confirm our relation.” You smiled as your scrolled through the comments of your picture. “We should tell them.”

“Not yet, darling. I’m not ready for the world to know.” Tom said, much to your disappointment.

“Okay. No, I get it.” You gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek, dropping the subject.

A few weeks later, you sent out a tweet that read, “Tom just hit a pothole so hard that he’s American now.”, leaving fans to wonder why you were together on your day off.

“They caught us. They know we’re on a date.” You said from the passenger seat.

“Friends can hang out on days off. That doesn’t mean we’re a couple.” Tom replied and you looked over at him.

“But we are a couple.” You reminded him, a little hurt at his phrasing.

“They don’t need to know that. I wouldn’t even respond to it. Don’t feed the flame.” Tom shrugged and shot you a smile. You faked a smile back and nodded.

“You’re right. I won’t respond.” You put your phone down and looked out the window, hoping he couldn’t sense your disappointment.

Then, it escalated to interviews.

“Does your friendship ever interfere with shooting the romantic scenes? Like, were you ever shooting a cuddling scene or a date scene where you were grossed out because you had to do romantic things with your friend?” The interviewer asked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“Was it weird to do romantic things with my friend Tom? That’s a great question.” You said and Tom laughed from beside you, also seeing the irony. “It was pretty weird since we are such good friends.”

“The best of friends.” Tom egged on.

“Definitely.” You gave an over exaggerated nod. “He’s like family to me.”

“Like brother and sister.” Tom added and you burst out laughing. Tom laughed at your reaction and suddenly, you’re both hunched over laughing while the interviewer watched with a confused smile.

“I don’t think it was weird.” You said after you calmed down. “I have such a respect for Tom and I really admire his work as an actor, and I assume he feels the same for me-“

“More or less.” Tom joked.

“-so it wasn’t too bad.” You finished and elbowed him slightly.

“Was the first time you kissed awkward?” The interviewer asked.

“In the movie or-“ Tom began, forgetting the rest of the world didn’t know that you’d have a first kiss as Peter and MJ and a first kiss as a couple.

“No, it wasn’t awkward.” You quickly cut him off before he blew your cover. “At the end of the day, we’re both professionals and it’s just kissing. We do it all the time now.”

“Sometimes off screen. And that’s not a joke.” Tom brought up. “Especially during filming, I would sometimes forget we weren’t actually together and I’d walk into a room and kiss her.”

You smiled at the memory, remembering all the stolen kisses before you’d made it official.

“How did everyone else react?” The interviewer asked.

“They acted like it was completely normal.” You answered.

“Because for us, it was.” Tom shrugged.

“I will say, it did get complicated kissing you when were were shooting our reunion scene in Endgame because I had to be careful of your balls.” You said.

“What?” Tom nearly gasped. You realized how it sounded and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Motion sensor balls. The little white motion sensor balls.” You quickly explained. “Oh my God. I meant the balls on the motion caption suit.”

“I was about to say.” Tom laughed at your accident innuendo.

“Ask the next question, please.” You pleaded to get out of the awkward moment.

“So did you guys meet through this movie?” The interviewer saved you.

“Yes. We met while filming Infinity War when no one had any idea our characters were going to date.” You answered confidently to redeem yourself.

“We were always paired together for junkets and she gradually became my best friend. Sorry Haz.” Tom apologized to the camera.

“It’s great that you guys were able to click. Your chemistry in the movie is really outstanding.” The interviewer complimented. “I’m sure that’s due to the friendship you’ve built off screen.”

“Yeah, I mean it always helps to be friends with your scene partner. And when we would have to spend hours in a prop bed together, cuddling and kissing while they got the perfect shot, it made us even closer. And as for the chemistry, I guess it kinda happened naturally.” You smiled shyly.

“Here’s a clip from the upcoming film.” The interview said to the camera. A scene from Far From Home played where Peter and MJ awkwardly yet adorably flirting with each other on the London Bridge. You couldn’t help but lovingly watch Tom as the clip played, overly proud of his job in the film.

“We do have great chemistry.” Tom nodded after the clip played. “We should date.” He added and you laughed.

“The fans would love that. I’m sure you’ve seen the campaigns online for you two to get together.” The interviewer remarked.

“We’ve seen it. Or at least, I have. Have you?” You asked Tom.

“I started the campaign.” Tom deadpanned.

“Oh, okay.” You nodded causally. You both kept a straight face for as long as you could before you burst into laughter. You curled into Toms side and laughed until your sides hurt.

“So is this really just a friendship? Nothing more?” The interviewer asked skeptically.

“No. We’re just really good friends.” Tom said firmly. You smile slowly faded and you gave a curt nod. For the rest of the interview, you were in autopilot. Every time you thought Tom was ready to tell the world, he hit you with the “just friends” line. It wasn’t him calling you “friend” that hurt you. It was him saying “just”. Every time he said it, he chipped into your heart. It hurt you to hear him play your relationship off as “just” anything.

At the next interview with Jimmy Kimmel, you had a bigger slip than usual.

“I love the pants Tom.” Jimmy complimented a few minutes into the interview. “But I do miss you in the Spiderman suit.”

“Oh, thank you.” Tom smiled and smoothed out his grey patterned pants. “My girlfriend picked them out.” He said causally. His eyes widened and you did your best to keep a neutral expression.

“Girlfriend?” Jimmy asked with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, Uh, yeah. I’ve been seeing someone for a while now. I wasn’t supposed to let that slip so no one tell her.” Tom grimaced before looking into the camera. “Sorry, baby. She is really good at fashion though. She picked out most of my outfits for the press tour.”

“Well I have to say, your girlfriend has great taste.” Jimmy said.

“Thank you.” You answered, then cleared your throat to cover up the slip up. Tom caught your mistake and stifled a laugh.

“What was that, Y/n?” Tom asked coyly, knowing full well what you had accidentally said.

“I said she’s gonna kill you.” You lied through a smile.

“You’ve met her?” Jimmy asked you and you thought quickly on your feet.

“Oh yes. I know her very well.” You nodded. It wasn’t a total lie. You knew yourself pretty well.

“So you guys are friends?” Jimmy continued.

“No. I cannot stand that girl.” You laughed and Tom rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t gonna admit that his girlfriend was you, you were gonna have some fun.

“Here we go.” Tom sighed and the audience laughed.

“Why not?” Jimmy inquired.

“Because all she does is talk about herself.” You said. Tom laughed the irony and you giggled yourself.

“Well what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” Jimmy asked.

“I do have a boyfriend but he’s the worst.” You confirmed. Tom gave you a half cracked smile.

“What?” He asked, practically daring you to go on.

“Why do you say that?” Jimmy laughed.

“He can’t keep a secret to save his life.” You shrugged. ���Except the one. He’s really good at keeping one.”

Tom knew exactly what you were doing and he couldn’t even blame you. He didn’t say anything, but patted your knee and left his hand there.

“So he’s like Tom then?” Jimmy said. “Tom, you’ve become infamous in Hollywood as being loose lipped.”

“He is not loose lipped, his lips are very nice.” You defended and Tom smiled shyly. “He just gets too excited and lets things slip.”

“Like you during that one scene.” Tom spoke up. You knew what he was talking about and your face reddened.

“Stop.” You warned.

“What did she let slip?” Jimmy wondered.

“Oh My God. This story is so embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face in your hands. Tom laughed at your discomfort and took your hand.

“We were shooting the “steamy”, as one night call it, scene in the film and she was supposed to say “Peter”, you know my characters name, in like a breathy voice.” Tom explained.

“I’d like to preface that this was an accident.” You cut in.

“So we’re shooting the scene and right in my ear she goes “Tom…I mean Peter”. But the whole thing comes out in like a moan and I thought it was the funniest thing ever.” Tom told the story.

“It was so embarrassing! The whole crew heard.” You groaned while Tom and the audience laughed at your expense.

You and Tom walked into your shared hotel room after the interview and allowed yourselves to relax. While you were setting your purse down on the bed, Tom came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his embrace and smiled.

“That went a lot better than I thought. If people think we’re dating other people, they’ll stop asking us if we’re together. This will totally throw them off.” Tom said and he kissed your temple. Your smile dropped as you turned around in his arms.

“Or, we could use this as an opportunity to tell them the truth about us. They know you have a girlfriend. Why not tell them that girlfriend is me?” You asked.

“Because my fans will come at you with a fiery vengeance. It’s better if they think you’re just my best friend. Trust me, darling, you don’t want them to know it’s you.” Tom tilted your chin up to look at him.

“And trust me, Tom, I do.” You said, and left his embrace.

The next day, you pretended like nothing happened for the sake of all the junkets you had to get through. You could tell Tom was sorry from the guilty looks he kept giving you, but you wouldn’t look back at him.

“What’s the best part of the press tour?” The interviewer asked.

“Getting to spend all day with my best friend.” You laud the word on thick as you wrapped your arms around Toms neck and covered his cheek in kisses. He got your point and let you do it as his way of apologizing. The interviewer laughed along, knowing the effect your actions would have on the fans.

“It’s great that you two are best friends. Is this press tour similar to the Homecoming one where you had to spend all day with Robert?” Tom was asked.

“That was a lot different. Robert has more of a godfather role in my life. I can go to him for advice, but I can’t play table tennis with him at three am in the hotel lobby like I can with Y/n.” Tom answered. You were warmed back up to him and gave him a gentle smile.

“And what’s your relationship with him like?” The interviewer asked you.

“He’s like my dad. He used to carry bandaids around just because I got hurt so much on set.” You replied.

“I remember that. He was always prepared. I went to Robert once when I was sick and he hooked me up to this crazy machine. I was super scared but it’s Robert Downey Jr., so I wasn’t gonna say no.” Tom chimed in.

“He makes Marvel lower your paycheck every time you say no to him.” You joked.

“Exactly. So I let him hook me up to it and it totally cured me. I was better in 15 minutes.” Tom continued.

“Aw. That’s so funny to think of Robert playing doctor on set. I guess your relationship with him is similar to Tony’s relationship with Peter?” The interview asked Tom.

“Definitely, definitely. Minus the fighting crime together and dying in his arms, obviously.” Tom replied.

“Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good.” You cut in with a laugh. Tom and the interviewer stopped and looked at you.

“What?” Tom asked with a growing smile.

“I said Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good. Like Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good.” You explained. You looked at Tom in confusion as he and the interviewer shared a look.

“What?” Tom repeated.

“Because you said your relationship was similar so I said-“ You began.

“No, I heard what you said.” Tom cut you off. “Who’s Mr. Junior?”

“Robert.” You replied, still confused why everyone was making a big deal.

“It’s Mr. Downey.” Tom said and began to laugh.

“Why would it be Mr. Downey? You wouldn’t be Mr. Stanley. It’s the last name. Mr. Junior.” You said again, feeling yourself growing frustrated.

“Yes, and his last name is Downey. My middle name is Stanley.” Tom explained.

You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what Tom was saying.

“Did you think his last name was Junior?” Tom broke the silence.

“No?” You said as more of a question than a statement.

“Have you seriously thought Roberts last name was Junior this entire time?” The interviewer asked, also laughing at you.

“I thought Downey was his middle name!” You shrieked.

“What?!” Tom asked and burst into laughter. You felt your face redden as the crew laughed at you as well.

“I thought he was Robert Downey Junior!” You said each name separately. “I thought he just used his full name like Neil Patrick Harris.”

“No.” Tom said in exasperation. “His fathers also named Robert so he’s Robert Downey Jr.”

“But he goes by RDJ! That implies that the “J” is a part of his initials.” You exclaimed.

“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.” Tom said as he wiped a happy tear from his eye.

“How did you think I feel?” You asked.

“I can’t handle this. You’re so ridiculous.” Tom choked out through his laughter. “I love you.” You restrained yourself from telling him you loved him back, knowing you couldn’t possibly make it sound platonic.

“Aw.” The interviewer gushed. “You two are such cute friends.”

“Yeah.” You gave a tight lipped smile. “Friends.”

As the press tour neared its end, your ability to keep the secret worsened.

Tom gave you a quick kiss on the lips before the cameras started rolling. The interviewer almost caught it, but you pulled away quickly before he could.

“What is that?” Tom asked as you bite into something orange sometime during the junket.

“A carrot.” You shrugged as your chewed.

“Where did you get carrots?” Tom laughed in confusion.

“The snack table outside.” You replied as you ate another one.

“There’s a snack table? Oh, that’s why you tasted like peppers.” He realized. Neither of you realized what he said but the interviewer raised an eyebrow.

“You know I can’t resist some peppy boys.” You told him. “That better be cut out.” You warned the camera.

“You say that every interview.” Tom pointed out.

“It feels warranted every interview.” You giggled. “You know I debated stealing some of the pineapple from the snack table to take home?”

“Of course you did. You and your smoothies.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“I love smoothies! Is that a crime?” You turned in your seat to ask him.

“Yes! You drink a smoothie every morning and then get hungry twenty minutes later. You guys, she does not eat enough.” Tom said to the camera.

“It’s better than you and your thirty jars of jelly in the refrigerator because someone can’t go a day without toast.” You shot back.

“Oh, do you guys live together?” The interviewer asked in surprise.

You and Tom blinked in surprise at accidentally revealing that fact.

“Uhh, yeah. We’re um…” You started.

“Roommates.” Tom said quickly. “I live in the UK but I work mainly in the States, so I live with Y/n when I’m here.”

“Roommates? How cute.” The interviewer smiled.

“Just adorable.” You mumbled.

You dropped your purse on the hotel bed that night and put you hands on your hips. Without even looking at you, Tom could sense you anger. He sheepishly looked up at you and gave you a weak grin.

“I’m sorry?” He offered.

“For what?” You demanded.

“I don’t know. You haven’t told me yet.” He said.

“Roommates? You told him we were roommates?” You asked, not bothering to mask the hurt in your voice.

“Well why else would we live together?” Tom defended his answer.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’ve been in a committed relationship for over a year.” You grumbled. Tom heard the frustration in your voice and and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“But they don’t know that, darling.” He said softly.

“But I want them too. You keep pushing back telling our fans. You said we’d tell them before the press tour.” You said, feelings tears rise to your eyes.

“Yes, but then I realized all the interviews would focus on our relationship and not the movie.” Tom reminded you. “We needed to promote the movie.”

“No one needs to promote Marvel movies! They’re Marvel movies!” You exclaimed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this, sweetheart. We agreed not to tell our fans.” Tom tried to talk you down.

“We agreed not to tell our fans right away. It’s been a year Tom. Do you not want them to know?” You sighed.

“I like my privacy, love. I don’t want the world intruding on us. I love you too much to share.” Tom cupped your face in his hands but you looked away.

“You say you love me, but tell the world I’m nothing but a best friend.” You said sadly. “Or worse, a roommate.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, angel. I’m sorry.” Tom apologized. You dropped the subject and went to bed without another word. You were cold towards Tom all the next day until your interview that night, the last of the press tour.

The media frenzy of rumors came to an end during a game of Charades on Jimmy Fallon. You were on Jimmy’s team, leaving Tom and Benedict as your opponents. You shot flirty banter back and forth all game until finally, your team won.

“Haha.” You pointed a jeering finger at Tom as you got off the couch and approaching him. He had his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you with pure joy. “Just like the War of 1812, the British lost-“ You couldn’t finish your burn because Tom had pulled you into a kiss.

“Sorry, darling. You looked so cute up there. I couldn’t resist.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Wait, are you two together?” Jimmy asked, interrupting the moment. He was looking back and forth between you and Tom and the camera. You realized that the moment occurred on live television and suddenly felt shyer than you ever had before.

Tom looked at you, allowing you to be the one to confirm it after wanting too for so long. You looked into the camera and smirked.

“Truth is…I am dating Tom Holland.” You said in true Tony Stark fashion. The audience irrupted into applause and you couldn’t stop your smile from breaking through. Tom looked at you fondly and pulled you into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled against his chest.

“Yes I did.” He whispered into your ear. “love my privacy, but I love you more.”

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