#I don’t usually write lengthy lengthy asks like this but this needed to be said and someone else probably can relate

[starsinthesky5]

sweetest surprise || joe burrow x reader

description: a confusing and uncomfortable few days results in the sweetest surprise :)

a/n: an unplanned fic before I get back into YAIL and YBWM! this one was on the ML for a while so I decided to get into it on my very lengthy drive home from texas so this is definitely not my best writing since I was half asleep when writing half of this but i hope you guys like it regardless :) 

the fic jumps around a bit to certain moments so hopefully it’s easy to follow!

warnings: language, mentions of sex

word count: 14 k

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November 21st

You felt a set of soft and delicate lips pepper featherlight kisses around your face, the lips felt extremely cozy and warm like you were being touched by a cloud-like plush blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with your husband towering over you, a cheeky grin on his face as daylight filled your once-dark bedroom. 

“Someone slept in,” he laughed.

You turned your head to the side to see the time, the clock reading 9:32 am, 2 and a half hours past the time you were supposed to get up. You slept through the early alarm you had set to get up and make Joe his usual game-day breakfast and prepare for the game as you were busy the night before with your friends. Not to mention you and Joe were hosting a family dinner party after the game and the house was an absolute mess. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know how I slept in,” you say as you sit up quickly, but maybe a little too quickly as you feel dizzy all of a sudden. You reached for your head to stabilize yourself, the room slightly spinning as you tried to gather yourself. 

“Hey, you okay?” Joe asked as he grabbed your hands and sat down in front of you. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Just felt a little dizzy,”. 

“Does your head hurt?” he asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his voice laced with concern. “Do you need water?”. 

“Nope, I think I just sat up too fast,” you nodded. “I’m good on water though, thanks. Sorry about sleeping in, I don’t know how that happened. I was supposed to make your breakfast and you’re probably starving right now and you have to leave in a little bit,” you said as you looked down at your hands that he was rubbing with his soft fingers. 

“You don’t need to say sorry, you deserve to sleep in once and a while since you sacrifice your weekends for me & football,” he chuckles. 

“Yeah but now everything is thrown off since you don’t have anything to eat, there’s only a few hours till kickoff and I don’t even know what I’m wearing, and we have family coming over after the game and the house is a mess,” you say, your breaths getting shorter as visible panic sets in. 

“Woahh, let’s breathe for a second,” Joe says, now rubbing his hands on your thighs to help calm you down which always worked. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I grabbed us breakfast on the way home from the team hotel, you can wear one of my Bengals hoodies and leggings because you look beautiful in everything and don’t need anything flashy to show that you’re my biggest fan, and I asked the housekeeper to come over while we’re at the game to clean up for the dinner tonight because I knew it would be a lot for you to juggle by yourself,”.

You sat there and stared at Joe for a few seconds, still unable to fully comprehend how he always managed to fix your problems with what felt like just the snap of his fingers. He’d always been able to easily ease your worries no matter how big or small even when you were dating, and now that you were married that hadn't changed. Joe had been the perfect boyfriend to you for many years and now was the perfect husband, you were truly the luckiest woman alive because you had someone so thoughtful and sincere by your side. 

“Thank youuu,” you said as you moved closer to him and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I don’t what I would do without you,”.

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to know what you’d do without me. I’m always here,” he smiled against your head. 

“Mmm, you’re the best,” you say as you melt in his arms. “I don’t know why I feel lazy and weird this morning,”. 

“We all have those days. I’m sure you’ll be fine by tonight,” he says as he rubs your back before pressing a kiss to your lips. The warmth radiating from his body makes you feel ten times better already. 

“I hope so,” you yawn. “What’d you grab for breakfast?” you ask as you pull away from the hug.

“I got us some muffins, fruit, and smoothies from that bakery you love downtown by the stadium,” he says as he gets up from the bed, putting out his hand to help you up.

“Oooo yum,” you chirp as you get up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to freshen up,”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says as he presses another kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out of your bedroom, a nice bounce in his step. At least one of you was having a good morning.  

You walk into the bathroom, pee, and then make your way over to the vanity to brush your teeth. After you brush your teeth, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your face looks more tired than usual—matching how you felt—and then you notice your stomach sticking out a little through your semi-tight sleep shirt. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have had those two milkshakes yesterday,” you murmured as you rubbed your hands over your seemingly bloated belly. “Bloated is not a cute look,”.  

You make your way down the stairs a few minutes later, watching Joe as he takes out the food from the bags and sets everything up on the table. “I got you a pumpkin banana muffin, a mixed fruit bowl with berries, pineapple, and mangos, and that Pacific Sunrise smoothie you like,” he smiles as you walk closer to him.

“All my favorites,” you grin as you lean across the table to press a kiss to his lips. “Such a good husband,”. 

“Only the finest variety for the best wife in the world,” he said as he popped a piece of pineapple into his mouth. 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing those words come out of your mouth,” you smile. 

“And I’ll never get tired of saying those words,” he winks as he pulls your chair out for you. 

You both sit down at the table with your breakfast and start to dig in. You finish up your bowl of fruit first and then move to the smoothie as you and Joe talk about the game and the dinner later. 

“My mom and aunt said they’ll bring over some food for a potluck-type thing. I checked the fridge and we have everything for hamburgers and hotdogs so we could probably use the grill,” he said as he took a sip of his smoothie.

“It’s freezing tonight so maybe try to make them inside,” you say as you take a sip of your smoothie, your face immediately scrunching up in disgust. 

“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea…Are you okay?” he says as he looks up and notices your face. 

“This smoothie tastes awful,” you cough as you push it away. 

“I thought it was your favorite?” he asked as he picked up the cup to read the label.

“It is, but this tastes so bad for some reason,” you reply. “Here, you take a sip,”.

Joe nods before taking a sip of the fruity smoothie, the taste seeming normal to him as his face stays the same. “It tastes like how it usually does to me, Tropical and a little Citrusy,” he says as he places the cup back down. 

“It just tastes strange, I don’t know why,” you gag as the aftertaste is even worse than the initial taste.  

“Maybe try the muffin?” He asks as he passes it to you. “You need something more than just fruit inside of your belly since I know you usually don’t eat much during the game,”. 

You nod and take a small bite of the muffin but you immediately put it down as it tastes just as bad as the smoothie. “That tastes bad too,”.

“That’s weird, you eat this all the time and it’s never been weird before,” he says as he inspects the muffin. “I don’t see anything wrong with it either,”. 

“I’ve been getting this same order from that Bakery every week for the past 4 years and I’ve never been grossed out by it before,” you frown. “I don’t understand why it tastes like rotten eggs to me and not you,”. 

“We can put them in the fridge and see tomorrow if it tastes better. Maybe it’s just your tastebuds or something,” he says as he gets up to put them inside the fridge.

“We can try but I don’t know how my tastebuds are going to change in 24 hours,” you giggle.

“Well clearly they changed since the last time you had the smoothie and muffin so let’s try it again tomorrow,” he smiled. 

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes. 

A few hours later - Paycor Stadium 

There were about 20 minutes till kickoff and you were settled in the Burrow Suite with the family and a few other close WAGs. You grabbed a coffee and a bag of pretzels to snack on throughout the game since you barely had anything for breakfast this morning. The coffee was to help you stay awake since you woke up tired and were still feeling it hours later and you didn’t want to be groggy during the family dinner tonight. You listened to Joe and opted for one of his crewnecks and a pair of leggings for today's game, a little more lax than what you’d usually wear on game days but you were comfortable so that’s all that mattered. 

“Sounds like a weird morning,” Jess said after you told her how your morning went. 

“Oh, for sure. We all know I never sleep past my alarms so I don’t know what that was about and the breakfast thing was weird too,” you say as you pop a pretzel into your mouth, your stomach feeling a little weird as you sit there and watch the pregame preparations with your friend. 

“Hopefully you’re not sick or something. Can’t have you missing the annual WAGs party next week now that it was finally my turn to plan it,” she says as she pats your leg. 

“I hope I’m not sick. I don’t want to miss the party since I know how long you’ve been planning it for and that’s too much to handle right now since we’re getting into a crucial spot in the season. If Joe got sick right now, I would never be able to forgive myself,” you say as you squirm in your seat, feeling more and more uneasy as the seconds go by. You barely took a sip or bite of your breakfast this morning, so you couldn’t understand why your stomach was acting up. 

“I’m sure you’re fine. We all have days like that,” she says.

You let out a laugh, “Joe said the same thing,”. 

“Sam says that to me every time I have a bad morning,” she giggled.

“They really are the same person just in a different font, aren’t they?” you ask as you stand up to get a good look at the field to see if you can spot Joe, but as soon as you do, your stomach feels like it does a backflip and you feel a wave of nausea come over. 

You reach for your stomach, wrapping your arm around your belly in an attempt to make yourself feel better. Jess notices and stands up next to you, “Y/N? You good?” she asks as she places her hand on your shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” you say as you swallow. “I feel nauseous all of a sudden,”. 

“Here, take this water,” she says as she reaches for her water bottle. Before you could grab it, you felt a burning sensation in your throat and a cramp in your stomach, a sure sign that you were about to throw up. You put your hand over your mouth and run out of the suite and down the hall to the bathrooms. You swing open a stall and crouch down as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hear footsteps behind you a few seconds later and then a hand holding your hair back, Jess must have walked in. 

“It’s alright, just breathe,” she says as she rubs your back with her free hand. A few moments later, you flush the toilet and sit down on the floor to process what just happened. 

“Here, I grabbed you water and some paper towels,” she said as she turned around to grab the things and hand them to you. “I think I have some mints in my bag so I’ll be right back,” she says as she gets up.

“T- Thanks,” you mumble as you wipe your face with the paper towels, taking a few deep breaths before you slowly get up and walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out before taking a few sips of water. You look in the mirror and take a few more breaths, examining your tired face while trying to hold yourself together. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you whisper to yourself. 

A few hours later - End of the game

“Are you okay?” Joe asks as he engulfs you in a big hug after he walks out of the locker room. You were a little surprised that he found out so quickly but then you realize Jess must have told Sam and Sam must have told Joe and now you had to deal with Mama Bear Joe. Whenever you got sick he would baby the hell out of you even if it was something as minor as a cold or headache. 

“I think so,” you mumble against his neck. “I didn’t throw up again, thank god. But I still feel a bit shaken up,”. 

“You wanna cancel tonight’s dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back before pressing a few kisses to your forehead. 

“No, definitely not. We’ve been meaning to have them over for a while and I would hate to cancel last minute like that,” you say as you pull your head out of his neck. 

“Okay, then let’s go to the doctor real quick,” he says, his inner Mama Bear peeking through.

“Joe, No,” you say as you shake your head.

“Y/N, you threw up,” he said.

“I’m going to be fine,” you laugh. “It’s not like I passed out or something and I don’t even think any doctors are open since it’s Sunday afternoon,”.

“The team Doctors should still be here,” he says as he moves his head to see if he can spot them. 

“I know you’re worried but I’m fine. No need to bug anyone about it,” you say as you move your hands to cup his face, moving it back so that he is looking into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes softening out of concern for you.

“Positive,” you assure. 

“Okay,” he nods. “I wonder what made you throw up? It can’t be breakfast since you barely had anything to eat,” he says as releases you from the hug. He moves his hand down to yours and starts to lead you both back out to the car, hand in hand like usual. You’d always wait for him outside the locker room after a game so you could walk back out together to debrief. You both tried to keep post-game talk to a minimum once you got home especially if it was a bad game, so you got all of it out on the walk to the car and the drive home. 

“I honestly have no idea. I had two milkshakes yesterday but I don’t see how that would’ve made me throw up a day later, you say as you look up at him.

“Two?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as he gives you a look of confusion.

“I was craving milkshakes, Okay,” you laugh. “And before you judge me, let me remind you that you ate 5 slices of pizza in one sitting after the Divisional game last year,”.

“I was hungry,” he laughs. 

“And I was craving sweet treats,” you pout. 

“Okay, Fine,” he retreats. “If it wasn’t the shakes then maybe it’s a stomach bug? That could also be why you felt tired all day and slept in this morning,” he says as he squeezes your hand.

“I guess we’ll find out in a few days,” you sigh. “I hope it’s not a stomach bug because I don’t want you to get sick too,”.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles. 

“I don’t knowww,” you tease. “I think I’ll have to pause the kisses for a few days so I don’t give whatever I have to you,”. 

Joe whips his head around and glares at you, “No fucking way,”. 

Joe would die if you stopped kissing him. He could not go about his day without a good morning kiss from you and he could not sleep without a good night kiss from you, they were his favorite things. You remember your first kiss with him and how insatiable he was once he felt his lips against yours, needing to feel them against his all the time. 

“It’s cute how you’re still the same 20-year-old that can’t go a day without a kiss from me,” you say as you softly push his shoulder. 

“Maybe don’t have the softest lips in the world and then I’ll stay away,” he jokes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, no can do,” you giggle.

“Then I guess I can’t say away,” he grins as he leans down and presses a big kiss on your lips.

“You’re probably going to throw up tomorrow,” you smile against him. 

“I’ll pay that price if it means I get to kiss my girl,” he says before pressing another kiss to your lips. 

After the Family Dinner 

The Family Dinner went smoothly since your nausea died down and you could finally eat something without feeling like you were going to throw up again. You still felt a little tired but managed to push through as entertaining conversations with family members kept you awake. Now, you were sitting on the bed after your shower and were waiting for Joe to come upstairs after cleaning up. You offered to help him since there was a lot to clean up but he insisted that you went upstairs and relaxed a little after the weird day you had, so that’s exactly what you did.

You were scrolling on your phone when you heard the bedroom door close. You look up and see your adorable husband trying to catch his breath, “Told you I could’ve helped you,” you shrugged.

“Cleaning up after a dinner party is not for the weak,” he sighs. “I didn’t realize we were so messy and there were so many things all over the place. And then I had to get the trashcans outside before the downpour started so I literally had to run around to grab the bags and take them down to the trashcans,”.

“Aww, is my poor baby tired?” you tease.

“This is not funny,” he said as he gave you a look while taking his shirt off. “I could’ve slipped and fallen in the rain,”. 

You went silent as you watched him pat his body with his shirt before tossing it into the laundry hamper, his muscular chest glowing in the warm lighting of your bedroom. Joe was built like a Greek God, the way his chest looked like it had been crafted from gold, and the way his golden hair and blue eyes always caught you in a trance. 

“If he just bent me over right now–,” you thought to yourself, finding yourself in one of those trances again before you felt a sudden sensation of weight on you that pushed you back onto the bed, snapping the impure thoughts out if your head.

“Mmph, I missed you today,” Joe said, his entire body on yours right now.

“I literally saw you the entire day,” you giggled as you moved your hands into his hair.

“I know, but I feel like we barely saw each other at the same time. My mom had you occupied for the majority of the dinner and we didn’t get any alone time,” he sighed. 

“Alone time?” you questioned. “Alone time for what?”.

“For this,” he says as he kisses your lips, slowly deepening the kiss as you feel his warm tongue enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan when you feel his hands slip under your shirt, his big hands rubbing your plush skin. You open up your legs a bit more to accommodate his big body as you suck on his lip and pull him closer, his hands now moving up to your bare chest. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your lips against his in a way that you know drove him crazy, slowly switching back and forth between his top and bottom lip. You feel his hand massage your breast which would normally make you feel pleasure, but this time all you felt was pain.

“Ow,” you wince as you pull away from the kiss, his hands immediately stopping. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his face and body frozen at your apparent ache. 

“Do that again,” you say to him, then feel his hand squeezing your breast again and still feel pain.

“Fuck, that hurts,” you whisper. 

He slips his hand out from under your shirt and moves off of your body, “What’s wrong?”,

“My boobs feel so sore,” you whine.

“Is it your period?” he asks as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t think so,” you sigh. “I don’t know what’s up with me today,” you say as you slide your hands across your face. 

“It’s okay,” Joe says while grabbing your hands and kissing them. “I told you this morning that we all have those kinds of days and I think that’s all this is. You might have just caught something from someone and are a little sick,”. 

“I don’t know what kind of sickness involves these kinds of symptoms but I guess you’re right,” you say, not being able to come up with any other reason as to why you were having an off day. 

“Just take it easy tonight, I’ll grab you some Tylenol and Water,” he says as he slowly gets up from the bed.

“But what about–,”.

“Nope,” he says, shutting you down as he knew what you were going to say. “Sex is not what you need right now,”.

You drop your shoulders and give him a pouty face which usually works, but this time it didn’t. “Joeee,” you grumble. 

“Sorry beautiful, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he smiles.

“How is it fair that you still get your kisses while I’m sick but I can’t get laid?” you say as you cross your arms and bat your eyelashes. 

“Because one involves less tiresome actions than the other,” he winks as he walks out of the bedroom to grab you some things from downstairs. 

You faceplant forward onto the comforter as you let out a loud groan, one that he could hear from the hall. “You’ll thank me later,” you hear him laugh. 

You detested being sick. Not because you didn’t get to partake in certain activities, but because you felt like shit. You had never heard of a sickness that involved being tired, your taste buds acting up, throwing up, and having sore boobs. This was a strange combination of symptoms and it really was taking a toll on you and it would probably get worse.

But were you actually sick, or was this something else?

The Next Morning 

You suddenly jolt awake from the feeling of your stomach churning and your body extremely hot all of a sudden. You unwrap yourself from Joe’s hold and run into the bathroom, feeling a burning sensation in your throat again and once again crouching down and emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You see Joe walk into the bathroom from the corner of your eye, crouching down next to you and holding your hair back while whispering sweet words to calm you down into your ear. 

A few moments later you flush the toilet and wipe your lips with a piece of toilet paper, then fall back into Joe’s arms. “Mmm,” you whine as you hide your face in his chest as he rubs your back.

“Still not feeling better?” he asks.

“Mm, Mm,” you reply as you shake your head, a few tears falling from your eyes. You feel Joe shift around under you, then feel his hands around your legs and waist, slowly picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the couch, not a word coming from his mouth as he was doing this. 

He carefully placed you on the couch, taking a few push blankets and setting them around you to keep you warm. He then brought over a glass of water for you and some anti-nausea pills and mints.

“Take these for now. I’m gonna heat up some soup for you to eat for breakfast and order some soup for lunch for you while I’m at practice so you can stay in bed all day. I’m also gonna stop at the pharmacy to see what other meds I can pick up,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank You,” you cooed. 

“I love you so much,” he added after placing another kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,”. 

“I love you more,” you smile as you kiss his cheek. 

You watch as he walks over to the fridge, taking out the bowl of soup his Mom made for you last night to ease your stomach in case you felt nauseous again. You turn back around and pull the blankets up higher as you try to get comfortable. Although you hated Mama Bear Joe and the over-the-top antics, you loved when he would do these little things for you—as silly as it sounded. It was his responsibility as your husband to take care of you, but you still felt your heart explode when he would do so.

After eating the soup he made for you, Joe went upstairs to get ready for practice and then spent a few minutes with you on the couch to make sure you didn’t throw up again before he left.

He laid his head in your lap, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair as you felt his hot breath against your stomach. 

“I really don’t want to leave you alone today,” he mumbled against your stomach.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’ll be fine though, don’t stress,”.

“I just feel bad that you’re sick and I can’t be here to take care of you,” he sighs.

You stop running your fingers through his hair which causes him to look up and meet your eyes, “Don’t feel bad, Joe. What my stomach decides to do when you’re not here is in neither of our hands,” you joke.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he says.

“I promise I’ll be fine. If I need anything I can call a friend or I’ll text you,” you smile.

“If you feel really bad, drive to the facility,” he says as he gets up from your lap. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too-,”.

“Drive to the facility,” he says again, giving you a look that tells you he means business. 

“Okayyy, Mama Bear,” you joke as you kiss his cheek.

“Uhh, what about my lips?” he says as he raises his eyebrows. “I told you, I don’t care if I throw up,”. 

You roll your eyes before leaning in and pressing two sweet kisses on his lips, feeling Joe’s smile through them both, and then a final one on his nose. “Bye Joe,” you say lazily, your tiredness peeking through. 

He smiles at you and gets up from the couch, his gaze lingering on your face for a few seconds. He couldn’t leave you alone, he didn’t want to leave you alone. “Maybe I should stay,” he says as he sits down again. 

“Joe,” you glare, now feeling a little annoyed at his overthinking. 

“What?” he asks.

“Go to practice,” you say, purposefully lacing your voice with annoyance. 

“No,” he denies.

“Joe,” you say, this time giving him a look that told him you were incredibly close to snapping.

“What if you throw up again?” he asks.

“I’ll take some medicine and drink water,” you shrug.

“And what if you get a fever or something,”.

“That’s what we have Tylenol for,” you laugh.

“What if you pass out?”.

He really wasn’t budging, was he? “Joe!” you yell, softly because you don’t like raising your voices at each other. “I love you, but please go to practice,”. 

“Okay, Okay. I’ll go,” he says. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, please call me,”.

“I will, I promise,” you smile, grabbing his hand and giving him a soft squeeze to hopefully ease his worries like how he did for you. 

A few hours later 

You stayed on the couch for about two hours so that you could fully digest the soup without doing anything to make you throw up again before slowly making your way upstairs to freshen up and take a nice long shower; the steamy warm water hitting your stomach provided much-needed relief.  

You’re brushing your wet hair in the mirror when you see your phone light up from an incoming Facetime from your best friend. You pick up and prop your phone against the mirror before going back to your hair. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she smiles.

“Hey, Soph,” you sigh, your voice heavy and tired. 

“That’s not promising. You still feeling sick?” she asks.

“Threw up again this morning,” you say as you pursed your lips. 

She stays silent for a few seconds, biting her lip and staring at you like you had two heads. “What?” you ask as you put the brush down.

“You know, the symptoms you told me you were having kind of sounds like something else,” she says.

“Sounds like what?” you snort, preparing yourself for another one of her wild theories. 

“But I don’t know for sure because you’ve never mentioned it before,” she thinks.

“What?” you ask.

“Are you pregnant?” she grins. 

You pause for a few seconds to let what she said register in your brain. “HA,” you yell a few seconds later. “That’s hilarious,” you say as you throw your head back. 

“Y/N, I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, her tone making you stop laughing. 

“Sophia, I can tell you for a fact that I'm not pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s just a stomach bug,” you shake your head as you reach for your hair clip.

“Okay, but when was the last time you guys, you know,” she winked. 

“Well, let’s just say we make sure to get our workouts in,” you say with a cheeky smile as you clip your hair back. 

“Workouts?” she laughs. “Now I know what you mean to say whenever you tell me you can’t talk because you and Joe are about to ‘workout’,”.

A throaty laugh leaves your lips as you recall all the moments you’ve dodged your friend’s calls and texts with a “workout” excuse. Although, you did end up sweating and probably burning a few calories so it was pretty much like a workout. 

“Anyway, hypothetically if you are pregnant and are having symptoms, you’d have to be pregnant for at least 4-8 weeks by now,”.

“Rightttt,” you nod slowly. Why were you even entertaining her theory? You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no way. 

“What happened 4-8 weeks ago?” She asked.

“Uhhhh…,” you trail off, trying to remember anything significant. “My birthday was 5 ish weeks ago,” you say. 

“Okay, so did you-,”.

“Oh yeah, we did,” you answered with a laugh even before she could finish asking the question, recalling that memorable night that had you sore for the entirety of the next day. 

“Okay, have you been trying for a baby?” she asks.

You pause for a few seconds before recalling the conversation you and Joe had about this subject, “We haven’t been specifically trying but we talked about having a baby and everything a while ago and decided that it would happen when it was supposed to happen,”.

Flashback to September - A few days before the start of the season 

You and Joe were lounging together on the couch, his hand in your hair, playing with the loose strands as you rubbed your hand along his thigh. You both longed for these calm and quiet moments when it was just the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms. This kind of one-on-one time would be significantly reduced once the season starts, so you both were making sure to get as much in as you could now. 

“How do you feel about having a baby right now?” Joe asked, breaking the silence with something so deep and serious that completely went against the thought you just had of cherishing peaceful moments with just the two of you.

“Hm?” you asked as you turned your head to face him. “I thought we already had this conversation,”.  You’d talked about the idea of wanting kids ages ago before you got engaged when you were talking to each other about your futures and although you had been married for over a year now, this was the first time the topic of kids came up as a married couple.

“Well, we did have this conversation,” he smiled. “But that was before we got married and it was just about if we wanted kids together. Now we’re married,” he said as he moved his hand to your stomach. 

“Someone having baby fever?” you beamed as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Actually, I am,” he said, his face telling you he was being dead serious. “The thought of Baby Burrow running around the house sounds like a dream”. 

“Really?” you question, a little surprised at his thoughts. You knew that Joe wanted to have kids with you at some point, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon since he’s still at an important point in his career. 

“Really,” he says. “I love you more than anything on this earth and the thought of you having my baby makes me want to run around and scream. The thought of a little baby running around and screaming also makes me want to run around and scream,”.

You laugh at his childlike excitement then lean in to press a kiss on his pink lips, “I love that you’re so excited about having kids with me,”.

“Excited is an understatement, I’m Ecstatic. Having a baby has way more of an impact on you than it does me, so I wanted to see where you were at about it,” he adds. 

“Well, we said we ideally wanted 2—one boy and one girl—but no more than 3 if another happens to come along. I think that still stands?” you ask.

“Yes, it does,” he nods. 

“Wouldn’t things get too chaotic if I was pregnant during the season though?” you ask as you play with his fingers. 

“If you were pregnant during the season, Baby B would arrive during the off-season so that lines up perfectly since I would be able to be around a lot more,” he said. “It would be a bit chaotic for a little because I would be thinking about you 90% of the time, but it’s better than having a baby during the season and you being by yourself,”. 

“True,” you nod as you do the math in your head. If you got pregnant anywhere from now to December the baby would arrive between May and July, which would be perfect for you both. 

“It’s all up to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you for anything. If you’re not ready for that then that's okay,” he assured. 

“It’s not that I’m feeling rushed, I just don’t want to rush you into anything,” you say. “I know how important these next few years are for your career and I don’t want you to feel like you have too many things on your plate,”. You wanted to have a family more than anything, but you also knew that what Joe was doing was incredibly important to not just him, but you also. If it was just the two of you for a few years, you wouldn’t mind, even if part of you wished it was the three of you. 

“A family is a priority, not just something on a plate,” he smiles. “I told you that when I proposed too, remember?”. 

Oh, you remembered all right. When Joe proposed, you obviously said yes. You couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life with any other person, but you were a little hesitant about the idea of getting married while he was still chasing his first ring because you didn’t want to become a distraction for him when it came to his career. You felt awful for thinking that way, but once again, Joe fixed that with the snap of his fingers. He told you and made sure you knew that you weren’t just some “thing” in his life, you were a priority. You mattered to him more than football did and it would always be that way as football was transient, and you would always be there with him. You were his whole world.

When you first met, he knew instantly that he wanted to do everything with you. He wanted to be the guy who took you out on dates, showed you a love unlike any kind you had ever experienced, cleaned up your tears whenever you were sad, kissed you at every chance he got, and eventually be the man who proposed to you and married you. Lucky for him, all that happened. Now he wanted to take the next step, having a family with you. 

“I remember,” you smile. “You made sure that I got that in my head,”.

“So just like you, a baby would become a priority. And I’d love to see my two favorite humans up in the suite watching their daddy play ball before he gets gray hairs,” he smiles.

“Their daddy? You mean the baby’s daddy?” you question.

He tilts his head and raises his brow, giving you a look that makes you throw your head back in a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, I mean their daddy. We both know you use that name a lot in a different context,” he winks.

“Joseph Lee,” you shriek as you gently hit his chest while a blush creeps up your face. You stop laughing and stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about what life would be like with a little baby chasing you both around the house while calling you mama and dada. You could have a little family of your own that you would come home to every day. Endless mornings filled with laughter and precious moments as a trio, sleepless nights curled up with Joe in your bed as you stayed awake in case your baby woke up; a lifetime of love was waiting for you.  

“Having a baby sounds amazing, Joe,” you smile as you tuck your head under his chin. “Being your girlfriend was fantastic, being your wife is like a dream, but being the mother to our child is the best thing that could ever happen to me,”.

“You’re going to be the best daddy to our little baby. I can’t wait for the day when Baby Burrow can see you out on the field, absolutely tearing it up and putting everyone on notice. I can’t wait for the day when they realize who their daddy is and see all the great things he’s done in his life,” you coo.  

“Y/N..” he softly says, his heart bursting from your sweet words but also from the thought of all of that actually happening.  

“The greatest thing I’ve done in my life is make you my forever,” his face turning a little red at the words leaving his mouth.

“Aww, Joe,” you say as your face turns into a pout, your heart now being the one bursting at his sweet words. “Everything you say makes me fall more in love with you,”.

“I feel the same way,” punctuating his sentence with another kiss. “We have all the time in the world to have a baby so there’s no rush obviously,” he smiles as he pulls you closer to him, resting his hand on your stomach. 

“Agreed. Whenever Baby Burrow wants to come, it will,” you grin against his cheek. “We don’t necessarily have to try but we also don’t need to do anything to prevent it now that we’re open to it,”.

You feel his hand slide up to your chest, his other hand moving under your shirt and sliding up to the clasp of your bra. “Think we should get a head start on it?” he whispers in your ear, his voice incredibly husky and intoxicating. 

“Sounds like a great idea,” you wink. “I’d hate for us to be slackers,” you say before you lean in and capture his lips in a kiss that ignited something inside of you both. 

End of flashback 

“Well, let’s look at the past few days. You feel tired, things don’t taste the same, you threw up twice and feel nauseous a lot, you’re bloated as hell, plus mood swings and cravings. Those are all typical pregnancy symptoms,” she nods. “How about your period?”.

You freeze when she says that, your face dropping and your body tensing up, “Fuck,” you panic. “I didn’t even check that,” you say as you grab the phone off the vanity and pull up your period tracking app. You sit down on the toilet lid and look at the calendar, your heart dropping when you see bright red letters that spell out “Late”. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling like your world just flipped upside down. 

“What?” she asks.

“Ummm, I’m going to have to call you back later,” you say as you return to the FaceTime screen. 

“Oh my GOD,” she screams. “Y/N holy shit-,”.

“Soph, I really gotta go,” you say as you get up and start looking through the baskets in the bathroom for any pregnancy tests. 

“Okay, Okay. I’ll check in with you later,”.

“Thank you, I’ll call you later,” you say as you quickly hang up and throw your phone onto a pile of towels. 

“Where are the tests when you actually need one,” you grumble. 

After 10 minutes of searching every bathroom in the house, you couldn’t find a single pregnancy test so you decided to instacart a few tests to the house. You thought about going out and buying a few since that would be faster but you figured that word would get around town fast if Joe Burrow’s wife was buying pregnancy tests and if you actually were pregnant, you definitely were going to keep it a secret for a little. 

You were now sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with a glass of water to calm you down, anxiously waiting for the tests to arrive. You were a little nervous even though you both knew you wanted this, but the thought of it actually happening was a little too real for you. You heard your phone ding across the bathroom so you immediately got up to check and see if it was a notification that the tests were here, but it was a text from Joe. 

Joe: how are you feeling?

Anxious. You were feeling Anxious.

You: a bit better :) the soup helped

A lie. That was a lie. The soup did help though, but you did not feel better. 

Joe: that’s good. i’m gonna swing by the store later and pick up some tums and pepto bismol tablets, you need anything else?

Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream would be great since that was what you were craving right now. But the weird thing was, you hated Mint Chocolate Chip. Was this a pregnancy craving?

You: mint choco chip ice cream would be nice

Joe: are you okay?

You: yeah.. why?

Joe: y/n, you HATE mint chocolate chip 

You: i know but I feel like eating some right now. maybe it’s the stomach bug that’s craving it

Joe: so now the stomach bug is hungry?

You: seems like it 

Joe: okay then, a tub of mint choco chip ice cream will be on its way in a few hours for mr. stomach bug

You: me and mr. stomach bug say thank you joeyyy 

Joe: of course :) anyway, i gotta go back to practice. i’ll see you in a bit, make sure to drink a lot of water and eat the soup I ordered for you

You sent him a picture of you drinking a glass of water and as you were about to close your phone, a notification popped up that said “Delivered” which made your stomach do a backflip, but not the kind that made you feel like you were going to throw up. Instead, the kind that made you feel like your world was about to flip upside down.  

“Shit,” you mumbled. You ran out of the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the front door to pick up the package, and then ran into the downstairs bathroom. 

You ordered a ClearBlue digital test and a traditional First Response Test for the most accurate read. You spent a few minutes doing your business before flipping the tests upside down and setting a 3-minute timer. You sat down on the ledge of the tub, your leg bouncing up and down as you started to think about what would happen after you flipped the tests over.

If it was Positive, in 9 months you’d have a little baby in your arms and a family. A little boy or girl that you’d get to watch grow up and raise with the love of your life. Little hands wrapping around your fingers every night as you rocked your baby to sleep and adorable little laughs that would fill your quiet house every morning would brighten your day faster than a cup of coffee. 

If it was Negative, there would be nothing. It’s not like you were trying hard to have a baby, but your heart would still hurt if all this anticipation and thinking was for nothing. You tried to not get your hopes up too much, but you couldn’t help but think about all the things that would happen if it was positive. 

God, you wished it was Positive. You wanted to see that smile on Joe’s face when you told him you were having a baby for real. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you thought you were Pregnant but then found out you weren’t, that would break your heart again. 

“DING”, the timer was up. 

You took a few deep breaths before getting up from the ledge of the tub, walking over to the counter, and staring at the upside-down tests.

“Here we go,” you sigh.

You closed your eyes and flipped over the ClearBlue test. You slowly opened your eyes, the words reading “POSITIVE”.  

Your heart skipped a beat at the words. Tears started to form in your eyes and your heartbeat increased, all at the same time. You quickly flipped over the Traditional Test, 2 bold pink lines visible on the slot. 

You were Pregnant. 

You dropped the test on the counter and broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face and your hands shaking. You were actually Pregnant. You were going to be a Mom and Joe was going to be a Dad. It was actually happening. 

“Oh my god,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You pulled out your phone and took a picture of the tests, sending them to Sophia since she was the only one who was in on it at the moment. You placed your phone back down on the counter as tears kept falling from your eyes at the thought of actually being pregnant, your brain was in overdrive right now. In 9 months, you and Joe would become a family of 3. Your heart gushed at the thought of having a little baby of your own in your arms. Being a mother means experiencing and showing a different kind of love, and you can't wait.

How were you going to tell him? How were you going to hide this from the public? Was it a boy or a girl? So many questions filled your head, but all you could truly focus on was the fact that this was really happening. 

“Holy shit,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes again. You look at yourself in the mirror, lifting your shirt and inspecting your belly.

“And I thought this was bloat,” you laugh through the tears as you rub your hands around the little bump that was forming. 

“Hey little baby,” you say as you talk to your stomach. “I know you can’t hear me, but it’s your mama. Me and Daddy love you so much. He doesn’t know yet but you’re going to be the sweetest surprise,” you grin. 

A few more hours later 

You spent the rest of the day in bed, content and relaxed as you knew why you were feeling so off so you weren’t worried about it anymore. You spent a few hours scheduling your OBGYN appointment, researching some things that newly pregnant women should do and not do, and brainstorming ideas on how you were going to tell Joe. All the ideas you found seemed basic or overdone—none really sticking out to you—so you decided to wait a bit and see if anything popped into your head. 

Currently, you were eating the soup that Joe had ordered for you while rewatching an episode of Stranger Things. He ordered you a Tomato Soup with a crisp grilled cheese sandwich, one of your favorite comfort meals, and go-to stomach bug remedy. 

“Well now that I know that it’s not a stomach bug, I hope you enjoy this soup, Baby Burrow,” you whisper to your stomach as you hear the bedroom door swing open, prompting you to look up. You watched as a sweaty Joe walked into the bedroom, placing his practice bag on the floor before walking over to you. 

“I didn’t even hear you come home,” you smiled as you paused the TV and placed your bowl of soup on the nightstand.

“How are you?” he asked as he sat down in front of you.

“Amazing,” you smile, feeling so much better after finding out the best news possible. 

“Really? You seemed pretty low when I left,” he asks, incredibly confused at how your mood did a 360.

“I feel a lot better and way more energized than I did this morning. I took a nice long shower after you left and lounged in bed all day,” you say, trying so hard to not tell him the real reason as to why you were feeling better. “No nausea or anything,”.

“That’s great,” he smiled. “I’m glad whatever you have is passing quickly. You’re kinda glowing too,”.

“Mhm,” you lie. It in fact was not passing quickly and wasn’t planning on passing anytime soon. You look down and notice that he’s still in his compression shirt and workout shorts which is odd since after practice he would come home in a more home-like outfit, usually some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Did you not take a shower before you left?”.

“Nope, I wanted to get to the store and get home as soon as I could to be with you,”.

He was so thoughtful, never failing to show how much he cared for you. The next 9 months were going to be perfect as you had the most extraordinary person by your side every step of the way. You pull Joe forward by his shoulder, letting his body cover yours again like last night as you melt back into the pillows.

“I’m super sweaty and you’re still not 100% better yet, Y/N,” he laughed. “I think this can wait,”.

“I have pure intentions,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I can take another shower as long as I get my cuddles,”.

“You hate when I touch you when I’m sweaty,” he scoffed. 

“Well, I guess I like it now,” you giggle as you press a few kisses to his cheek. Your hands travel down to his back, rubbing his soft skin through the thin fabric of his compression shirt

“In the 6 years that we have been together, you’ve never once willingly hugged me when I was sweaty and gross,” he says as he digs his head further into the crook of your neck. . It was true, you hated touching him when he was all gross and grimy, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him close to you, and now your baby as well. 

“I just want you close, that’s all,” you smile.

“You okay?” he asks before he presses a delicate kiss to your neck.

“I’m great, maybe even a little over the moon,” you say as you bite your lip.

“Care to tell me why?” he says, pulling his head out of your neck and making eye contact with you. You could never lie to Joe; anytime you tried he could see you weren’t being truthful by just looking into your eyes. 

Tell-tale eyes are what he called them, your eyes always gave it away. Your eyes gave away how you felt about Joe when you first met, which was that you wanted him more than anything on this planet. Your eyes gave away how much you loved him when he made one of your dreams come true by taking you on a trip to Ohio back in December when you were in college and driving you hours away to the beach just to see the snow falling, something incredibly weird yet breathtakingly beautiful. And now, your eyes were about to give away the fact that you were pregnant. 

You break the intense eye contact and look up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes, the perfect lie popping up in your head, “I think Dylan is proposing to Sophia soon,”. This wasn’t really a lie but it was the perfect thing to hide the real reason why you were acting like this.

“Really? That’s great,” Joe smiled. “He’s a really cool guy,”. 

“I know right? I remember in middle school when we would go on and on about our dream guys, our prince charmings, and I’m so glad she found hers,” you say as you move your hand back up to his hair.

“Did you find yours?” he asked, a solemn look on his face.  

You gaze into his eyes for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss, “I found him and he’s even better than what I imagined,”. 

“I love you,” he says against your lips.

“I love you even more,” you say as you pull his head back down to your neck, his arm moving around your waist. You feel him rest his hand on your stomach, completely oblivious to the fact that he is touching his child right now; the thought of that makes you smile even harder.  You stayed like that for about half an hour before Joe insisted that he took a shower, even inviting you to join him but adding that there would be no funny business, but you said you would take a shower before bed so you could be fully relaxed. 

You made your way downstairs, inspecting all the things he got you from the store. A variety of medicines–many of which will help combat the morning sickness you will be dealing with for the next few months–the icecream you requested, a box of dark chocolates (your guilty pleasure), a bouquet of baby pink and white tulips, and an adorable pink dinosaur holding a heart plushie. You smile at the treats he got for you before you feel a hand on either side of your hips and then a set of lips pressing kisses along your shoulder. 

“Got you some things to hopefully make you feel better,” he mumbled against your skin.

“I didn’t even hear you come downstairs,” your eyes widened at the sudden touch, Joe laughing at your reaction. 

“Put a bell on me at this point,” he jokes.

“Might have to,” you say as you turn around to face him, his hands still holding you in place. “Thanks for the goodies,” you smile. 

“Of course,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. “Although, I still don’t know why you wanted Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. You always say it tastes like toothpaste whenever you take a bite of mine,”.

“Maybe it’s just my taste buds changing again? Everything I used to like a lot tastes gross, and everything I used to hate a lot tastes good,”. Part of that is possibly true, your taste buds could have changed a bit because you’re pregnant, but the ice cream was definitely the beginning of the strange cravings you were going to have. 

“If that’s the case, maybe you’ll like crawfish now,” he smiled.

“Absolutely not,” you say, your face scrunching up in disgust. “I didn’t like it in Louisiana, and I sure as hell will not like it now,”.

“It was worth a try,” he said as he dropped his head. 

You press a kiss to his face, feeling his scruff against your lips, before moving out of his hold and walking over to the cabinet to pull out a bowl for the ice cream. “Will ice cream make you feel better?” you laugh.

He looks up, contemplating for a few seconds before saying, “Ice cream and Mario Kart would make me feel better,”. 

“Your wish is my command. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some ice cream,” you say as you pull out two bowls. 

“Nope,” he says as you hear him walk over to you. “You go sit down. I will get us some ice cream,”. 

“I got it,” you smile. You watch as he places his hands on his hips and tilts his head, this is his standing-on business pose and told you to not argue with him. 

“Alright, Alright. I’ll go sit down,” you say as you throw your hands up.

“Good,” he says as he turns you around and lightly pushes you forward. 

You sit down on the couch and turn on the switch to load up Mario Kart, one of your favorite games next to Smash Bros. You and Joe would always find yourself playing Mario Kart, and it all started on your 3rd date back in college. You get to the profile selection screen, seeing Joe’s ‘Mario’ profile and your ‘Princess Peach’ one which makes you remember when it all started. 

Flashback to LSU

You were sitting next to Joe on the floor of his apartment, both your knees touching as you were heavily concentrated on the game in front of you. You were playing in the ‘Special Cup’ and were on your 4th map—Rainbow Road—and you two were neck and neck with each other. 

“You’re going to lose slowpoke,” you smirk as you get in front of Joe, your competitive nature coming out.

“I never lose,” he smiles as he uses his boost to get in front of you, dropping a banana peel while he is at it causing you to spin out of control.  

“Noo,” you whine as you repeatedly press the buttons on your controller to regain your form. 

This was your 3rd date with Joe. Earlier he had taken you to the aquarium because you both were incredibly fascinated by marine life, and then lunch at your favorite taco place downtown. After, he invited you back to his place to watch a movie which then turned into playing Mario Kart once you saw his gaming stuff. 

You met Joe through a mutual friend at a college party a few weeks ago, his intoxicating eyes catching yours from across the room but you were too nervous to make a move given who he was. Little did you know your best friend’s new boyfriend was good friends with Joe, so then you ended up meeting him for real. The first time you were face to face, you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes as they were bluer than the ocean. He made the first move, striking up an unusual yet entertaining conversation about whether pineapple belonged on pizza as you both were eating pizza.

You and Joe hit it off instantly as you had a lot of things in common and talking to each other felt so incredibly easy, you both wanted to sit there and talk to each other for hours and hours and would have if you were sitting someplace else. He was also the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on which made you want to get to know him in another type of way as well, but you kept that to yourself. Lucky for you, he asked you out on a date right after the party was over and naturally you said yes. 

The 1st date went amazingly, then 2nd date was even better, and now you were playing video games with him in his apartment after your 3rd date. Joe was such a sweet guy, always paying attention to you and making it incredibly obvious that he really liked you. He thought you were the coolest girl he’d ever met and loved spending time with you because it always left him feeling more lively than he was before. You made him so happy.

You lean forward, your fingers rapidly dancing around the controller as you try to get ahead of Joe as you approach the final stretch of the map. 

“How did you get so close so fast?” he said in disbelief. 

“Told you, you’re a slowpoke,” you giggle as you pass him, the finish line in sight. 

Joe scoffs and leans in, his fingers beginning to move around the controller rapidly as he tries to overtake you, but you are too good for him.

“Aaaannnnd, I win!” you yell as you make it to the finish line before him, Joe arriving shortly after. You laugh as you throw your hands in the air, watching as the screen shows your character Princess Peach with confetti and balloons around her and a congratulations message on the screen.

“Damn,” Joe whispers as he looks over at you looking absolutely precious as you celebrate your victory. His eyes trailed down to what you were wearing: one of his LSU football hoodies. He gave it to you after your last date because he took you to a drive-in movie and it was a really windy night and you felt cold; the fact that you wore it again made his heart swell.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Mario,” you smile as you move your legs underneath you and turn to look at him, Joe’s character being Mario and yours being Peach. 

“Peach always ends up with Mario. I’ll get you sooner rather than later,” he winks, sending shivers down your spine. Was he talking about getting you in the game, or getting you in real life?

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?” you say as you raise an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. 

“Because,” he says as he leans in a little closer to you, your cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “Mario really likes Peach and it’s only a matter of time before Peach confesses that she does too,”.

You felt your heart skip a beat when he was speaking. He was talking about the two of you. 

“How do you know Peach likes Mario? I don’t think she’s ever said it,” you say, playing along with what Joe was saying. 

“Yeah, she’s never said it,” he shrugged. “But Mario can see the way Peach looks at him and acts around him. Peach’s eyes give it away, her tell-tale eyes,”. 

You lean in closer just like he did, “What is it about her eyes that give it away?”.

“It’s the way her eyes are always twinkling when she’s with Mario. Every time he makes her laugh or smile he notices that her eyes start sparkling and twinkling and he notices that they don’t do that when her friends or someone else makes her laugh,” he says, moving a little closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours. 

He was right. The way you acted around Joe was different than how you acted around others. With him, it was different. Good different. 

“Well, Mario must be doing something to make Peach act like that. Eyes only twinkle and sparkle when someone is feeling strong emotions,” you smile as you gaze into Joe’s starry eyes. 

“Exactly,” he nods. “She must be feeling strong emotions towards Mario,”.

“I guess she is,” you say short of a whisper, your heart rate increasing as butterflies swarm your belly. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot. 

Joe felt his heart explode when you said that. “I like you,” he blurted after leaning in even closer, his face just inches from yours. 

“I like you too,” you smile as you look down at his lips and then back to his eyes again. 

You feel him lift his hand off of yours and cup your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “I like you a lot,” he said again. 

“I like you a lot too,” you blush. 

You see Joe leaning in more, your palms getting sweaty as you know what is about to happen, but you don’t let your nerves stop you. You leaned in as well and a few seconds later your lips were now touching. Joe felt himself melt into the kiss as your lips felt like clouds against his, so soft and warm. His lips felt icy against yours, icy but soft at the same time. The warmth of your lips was radiating onto his and he felt amazing. 

You lifted your hand and stuffed it into his hair as he reached for your waist and pulled you closer to the point where you were practically in his lap; the kiss now getting deeper with no sign of stopping in sight. 

A few minutes later, you both pull away for some air, a big smile on both of your faces. “Your lips are so soft,” he said.

“I’m glad you liked them,” you blushed. 

“I told you I’d get you sooner rather than later,” he said as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“I’m really glad you did,” you said as you pulled his head back up and leaned in to kiss him again, Joe falling back against the carpet and bringing you down with him as you both smiled into the kiss. 

End of flashback 

You smile at the memory and then suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. This was the perfect way to tell Joe you were pregnant. You could make Baby Burrow his or her own profile on Mario Kart and the next time Joe opened the game, he would see it. You still had that sweatshirt he gave you that you were wearing the day you told each other how you felt about each other and could wrap the Pregnancy Tests in the hoodie. It was the perfect callback to what really started it all for you both. 

“Here you go,” Joe said, breaking you out of your trance as he handed you a bowl and sat down next to you. 

“Thank you,” you smile as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You ready for me to beat you again?” you giggle.

“Please,” he scoffs. “I told you, Mario always gets Peach and not just in real life. You ain’t beating me for shit,” he laughed. 

“Oh, it’s on,” you say as you take a bite of the minty ice cream, which actually tastes really good. 

The next afternoon 

Today went by pretty quickly, Joe left early in the morning for practice and you had a fairly normal morning until you threw up halfway through your light workout session. Morning Sickness was going to get old fast. You took a nice bath after to calm down your nausea and to unwind which definitely helped. When you looked in the mirror after your bath, you saw that your belly was peeking out a little more which would definitely be noticeable if you were wearing a skin-tight shirt so you opted for one of Joe’s hoodies since they were super baggy on you. You read online that most women won’t show until their 8th or 10th week, but first pregnancies are different and you can show pretty early on which you thought was your case. 

Joe ordered you soup again for lunch which was just as delicious as yesterday’s, and now you were sitting on the couch trying to work on your surprise for Joe when he got home which was in about 20 minutes or so. 

You had found the sweatshirt he gave you–his Louisianimals one–and placed the two pregnancy tests in the middle of the sweatshirt and folded it inward so that he would see it when he opened it. You then placed it inside of a gift bag and hid it on the side of the couch. 

You opened up Mario Kart and made it to the profile screen, contemplating on how you should go about this. There was no general ‘baby’ character, but there was a ‘Baby Mario’ and ‘Baby Peach’ and since you didn’t know if you were having a boy or girl, this was perfect. You made one profile ‘Baby Mario’ and named it “Baby”. Then, you made a second profile ‘Baby Peach’ and named it “Burrow”. Side by side they both read out “Baby Burrow” with the two baby characters. 

“Hopefully this doesn’t make him think it’s twins,” you chuckle as you stare at the screen. 

You hear the garage open, thanking god that this time you heard Joe come home otherwise the surprise would have been ruined. You quickly close up the game, switch the TV back to its normal screen, and then take a few breaths to ease up before he comes inside. 

You watch him stroll inside, humming whatever song he was listening to in the car. He places his practice bag on the kitchen island before walking over to you on the couch. This time he was in sweats and a hoodie, meaning he took a shower before he left. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hey, Babe. How was practice?” you smiled as you tried to contain your anticipation and excitement at what was about to happen.   

“Really good,” he nodded before walking back over to the kitchen to grab water and some juice for you. “How are you feeling? I didn’t get any break time to check in on you,”.

“I’m good,” you said to him. “I felt a bit sick after my light workout but that’s about it,” you say, downplaying it because you didn’t want him to get worried again especially since the real reason for it is much sweeter than a stomach bug. 

“You need any meds or anything?” he asks from the kitchen as he pours you a glass of pomegranate juice.

“No, I think I’m good for now,” you say as you play with the rings on your finger, you wanted him to hurry up so that you could tell him the big news as you were struggling to contain yourself. 

He walks over with his water and your juice, handing you the glass before sitting down next to you and draping part of your blanket over him. “Thank you,” you say as you take a sip of the juice. 

“Of course. My mom said pomegranate juice is the way to go with stomach bugs,” he said as he took a gulp of his water. 

It’s also the perfect juice for pregnant women since it’s incredibly nuteritous and provides a lot of vitamins and antioxidants for you and the baby, but Joe didn’t know that.

“Something about Vitamins and Antioxidants,” he adds. 

“Ohh, I know,” you smile, acting incredibly suspicious. 

He looks at you, slightly confused at what you meant, but not bothering to dig at it. “So, what do you want to do this afternoon? I’m free the rest of the day so we can do whatever, nap, watch a movie…”.

“Mario Kart?” you ask, trying really hard to not give it away with your eyes and smile.

“Again? Even after you got your ass kicked last night?” he laughed.

“Listen, it was 1 bad cup! I’ve won many more than you can even count,” you whine. 

“Okayyy,” he said as he placed his water down on the coffee table and grabbed the controllers. “If you say so but I better not get any sore loser talk if you lose again,” he joked.

“Deal,” you grin as you feel butterflies in your stomach while watching him turn on the Switch and load up the game.

“Here we go,” you think to yourself as you move the blanket off so you can easily grab the bag from the side of the couch where you hid it when you needed to. 

The Switch turns on and Joe clicks the Mario Kart icon, passing you a controller before moving back into the couch and getting comfortable. The screen switches to the welcome screen and he clicks the play button, the screen now on the profile’s menu. 

You feel the world stop, your heart stop, and your breath stop as you turn your face to Joe’s, carefully examining his expression.

You see him pause at the screen, his brows furrowing at the two new profiles on the menu and reading them over while looking at the icons above them. 

“Baby…Burrow?” he muttered under his breath.

You notice the exact moment when he realizes what that means, his mouth slightly falling open as he turns his head over at you. You give him a smile before reaching for the bag you hid, pulling it up, and placing it in his lap.

“What–,” he begins to say before you interrupt him.

“Open this first,” you say as you nod to the bag you placed in front of him. 

Joe quickly reaches into the bag and pulls out the hoodie, looking incredibly confused at why you were giving it to him. “Why are you giving me a sweatshirt?”.

“Open it,” you say as you place your hand on his knee. Tears started to form in your eyes as you watched him open up the sweatshirt, the 2 positive tests resting right in the middle of the logo on the hoodie. He picks them up and brings them close to his face, his eyes softening at what he was looking at and a smile forming on his face. 

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked as he looked over at you; his eyes were so incredibly delicate and glossy, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. “You’re pregnant?”. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, the tears now falling from your cheeks and down onto the couch. “Surprise,” you said in between tears.

“Oh my god,” he said as he looked back down at the tests before placing everything to the side and pulling you into him. “Holy shit,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his tears falling down and onto your shirt. 

“I can’t believe it,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “We’re having a baby,” he laughed in between the tears. Joe felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest because of the news. He was going to be a dad, for real. And the most incredible woman he had ever met was about to be a mother. 

“Are you happy?” you asked him, your tears falling even harder now.

He lifted his head and met your eyes, “I’m fucking amazing,” he said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’re going to be parents. You’re having our baby,” he said as he pressed a few more kisses to your lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,”. 

“I love you,” you sniffle as you meet his eyes again, his eyes filled with a love that you’ve never seen before. Love for both of you, you and the baby. 

“I love you so so much,” he said as he pressed more kisses around your face before releasing you from his arms. 

He looked down at your belly and then looked up at your eyes again, you knew exactly what he was waiting for. You lifted your sweatshirt up, his eyes landing on your small bump. 

“Oh my god,” he whispered as he reached out to touch your bump, but froze before his hand could lay on it. You saw his hesitation and took his hand and placed it on your bump, resting your hand on top of his.

“That’s our baby?” he said as he looked back up at you, your eyes twinkling and sparkling. 

“That’s our baby,” you nod as you wipe your tears with your other hand. 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your belly, your heart swelling at the adorable interaction. 

“Hey little Tiger,” he said to your belly. “I know you can’t hear me yet, but it’s Daddy,” he said as he looked up at you again, a huge smile on your face. “I love you so much, Baby Burrow. Me and Mommy can’t wait to see you,” he said before pressing another kiss to your stomach and moving back up to you.

“This doesn’t feel real,” he said as he wiped his face before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed.

“When did you find out?” he asked as he looked at the tests again. 

“Yesterday,” you said as you wiped your eyes again. 

“So then the throwing up, tiredness, sore boobs, taste changes, and cravings are all..”.

“Pregnancy Symptoms,” you say as you nod your head. 

“Damn,” he whispered. “I guess my Mama Bear antics were not helping since it isn’t a stomach bug,”.

“I guess not. But I love Mama Bear Joe and her antics and wouldn’t trade her for the world,” you grin.

“I’ll remember that because it’s about to get a whole lot worse for the next 9 months,” he laughed. 

“I’m...No. We're prepared,” you say as you lean in for another kiss, this one a little longer than the others as you two enjoy each other's warmth. 

“That was pretty clever by the way,” he said as he pulled away and pointed to the menu. 

“You like it?” you ask as you bite your lip. 

“Oh hell yeah. It’s a great callback to how it all started. Mario and Peach, but now with a Baby Mario or Baby Peach on the way,” he said as he recalled that afternoon in his apartment. “The sweatshirt I gave you too. You really thought it all out,”. 

“I’m really glad you liked it,” you say as you feel more tears forming in your eyes. “And I’m so glad you’re happy,”.

He stared into your eyes for a few moments before carefully moving you closer to him so that you were in his lap. “I’m beyond happy, Y/N. I can’t wait to do this with you. I love you and our baby more than anything in the world,”. 

“We love you too,” you smile as you drop your head to his shoulder, feeling his hand rub your back.

“In 9 months we’re going to have our own child running around,” he said, the thought still feels surreal. 

“Well, I’d give it more time before little Tiger starts running around,” you laugh. 

“Little Tiger has my genetics so we shall see about that one,” he smiled.

“I’m going to make sure that you don’t order any foam baby footballs,” you say as you pull your head out of his shoulder. 

“Hey, I gotta teach them young so that by the time they’re 7 or 8 they have that future QB arm and love for football,” he said, slightly offended at your hesitation. 

“We shall see about that one,” you say as you echo his words back to him. “No doubt about the love for football, but we’ll see about the future QB arm. Besides, what if we have a girl?”.

“Well, if we have a girl they have girl's flag football and I wouldn’t mind being an advocate for a girl's football team at whatever school Baby Burrow goes to,”. “Oh my god, we sound like parents,” he said as he rolled his eyes.

“I mean, we’re almost there,” you giggled as you moved his hair out of his eyes. 

“Yeah, but we have 9 months. No need to get all parenty yet,” he said as he kissed a trail along your jawline and gripped your waist. “We’re still basically horny newlyweds since it’s only been a year and a half,”.

“Joe!” you shrieked, appalled at the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Hey,” he said in defense of himself. “It’s true though. And I’m pretty sure you can have Sex while pregnant so we should be fine,”. 

You drop your head back down to his shoulder before you both break out into a fit of laughter. “This is going to be an interesting 9 months,” you said. 

“You can count on it,” he said as he rubbed the back of your head. “We’re going to have a lot of interesting firsts too,”.

“Mhm,” you nod. “First OBGYN appointment, first ultrasound, first heartbeat, first kick, first time baby clothes shopping, first time decorating a nursery, first time telling friends and family,”. 

“God, I can’t wait,” he smiled.

“Me either. This is a dream,” you said as you pressed yourself closer to him. 

“You are a dream, all of this is possible because of you,” he said. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest which made you want to cry again, he was truly happy. 

“It’s only possible because I have someone like you with me,” you said as you kissed his shoulder. Joe was the best boyfriend, best fiancee, best husband, and now was going to be the best father. He was incredible. 

“We’re going to be amazing parents, I know it,” he said as he thought about the next 9 months and then the many years after you would go through together as parents.

“Mmm, I can’t wait,” you squeal.

“I love you, Y/N, this was the sweetest surprise,” he said before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, both of you melting into each other’s embrace as you started to think about what the future was going to look like as a family of 3.

–The End–

[sovereignjojoz]

Syzoth vs human pregnancy

Summary: he’s dealt with zaterran pregnancy so how will he fare with human, it shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

Notes - this is my first time writing for syzoth so I hope it’s okay still getting used to his character!! Also some things could be wrong with the “zaterran” aspects I mostly based it on reptiles because “reptile” lol.

There was a certain human idiom that syzoth had found appreciation for recently, “get a second bite at the cherry”, as luck would have it he had been blessed with a second chance at fatherhood yet contrary to his first partner his second partner was human, leaving a lot of ambiguity surrounding the baby.

Each day that passed his mind was plagued with wether the baby would take more of the human aspects similar to you and his human form or aspects of his zaterran form, or perhaps even a combination of both! Irregardless of how the baby looked he’d still love them with his whole heart, it was just harmless curiosity.

As he had already had experience in catering to his zaterran wife’s need so he was confident he’d be able to cater to your needs during this time, he presumed zaterran and human pregnancy had many similarities.

Immediately he started preparing some of the minor things such as reducing the temperature down to the coldest setting and moving around the furniture for when his young hatched, since that wouldn’t be a long time from the present it was better to get the hassle out of the way now rather than when it’s too late.

The change stuck out like a sore thumb, the cool draft instantly hit your skin causing goosebumps to flare up on your skin while majority of your furniture was seemingly gone.

The sole item that remained in the living room was the couch, which your boyfriend was currently lounging on. You quickly made you way over to him and plopped down on his lap, giving him a small but sweet little kiss.

He used one hand to pull himself back so he was in an upwards position against the chair cushion so you were in a more comfortable position.

You smiled at him and put his hand to rest on your stomach, his touch was extremely calming.

“You changed some things around in here?” You asked snuggling up to his muscular form.

He stroked your slightly protruding stomach, “yes, I thought it was a necessity to make things easier as the babies will be here soon.”

You supposed he was right, time would move rather quickly so it would be better to be prepared.

“I suppose so, but soon is rather early don’t you think?” You questioned.

He raised a brow at you, innocently intrigued, “whatever do you mean my love? There is merely twenty days left before our babies are born, I’d even go as far as saying we were almost pushing it.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “syz, what do you mean there’s only twenty days left? I’m only like 9 weeks along?”

He nodded, “exactly, that is almost full term, correct?”

You opened your mouth to speak before closing it once more, thinking on his customs. “No…?” You said tentatively, “a human pregnancy lasts 9 months syzoth.”

His viridescent eyes widened as curiosity painted his face, “oh really? How interesting.”

“How long do Zaterran pregnancies last?”

“The babies are usually born after sixty days, it is honestly not a long process which is why learning of this lengthy time has left me speechless.” He rubbed his short hair as he thought about the complexity that came with humanity.

You squished his cheek, “wow, that’s amazing but can I ask you something?”

“Of course my sweetheart.”

You continue stroking the soft flesh of his cheek, “why do you keep saying babies, plural, instead of baby?”

He kissed the inside of your palm, “because it is natural? It is common to have up to 10 kids at once within my species, that’s why the furniture was moved so there will be space for the babies are born.”

Your jaw hung agape, “t-ten?” You cleared your throat, “Zaterran woman are strong, however I think we’re only having one child.”

“No I assure you that we are having more than one child.” He ruffled your hair and smiled as if he was bemused by your naivety.

You arched your brow, “well how many do you think?”

“Perhaps three, or four, or maybe even five-” before he could even finish his sentence your hand was on his mouth preventing him from speaking, five kids wasn’t something you wanted spoken into existence.

“On that note, I’m going to bed.” Syzoth nodded and released your hand so you could get up from his embrace, “are you coming?”

His soft lips placed a tender kiss on your own while you lingered at the doorway waiting for his answer, “I will be in bed shortly.”

You nodded then went to tuck yourself in.

But even though four hours had passed, there was still something missing…something besides you to be specific. And why was it so cold.

Quickly, you grabbed the fluffy pink blanket that laid atop of the bed and wrapped it tightly around your shivering frame. Normally you wouldn’t have to worry about such things as even though he was cold blooded syzoth provided an abnormal amount of warmth yet when you reached beside you for him all you felt was the untouched side of where he usually lay.

You shuffled out the bedroom with a small nightlight in your hand in sought of where your boyfriend could possibly be.

“Syz?” You peered from around the corner into the nursery, shivering with each step you took.

The taller male groggily rose up from the small confines of a plush stool he’d tucked himself onto.

“[name]?”

Honestly you had so much to say yet nothing at all at the same time, “I- what are you doing in that,” you made a gesture with your hands “tiny space, and why is it so cold?”

Syzoth rubbed his hands into his eyes, groaning a little as he stretched his lithe limbs. “I thought you would feel more comfortable.”

You walked over to him and grabbed his calloused hand, attempting to drag him back to bed however he broke your hold before you could even take two steps further.

He knew by the quizzical look on your face you were slightly confused about his actions, “I understand you might miss my presence, I miss yours tenfold, but it is probably for the best that we sleep separately.”

“Why though, it’s cold?”

He seemed hesitant to answer, “well isn’t it common knowledge that pregnancy makes people aggressive, my zetattan wife tried to kill me when she was pregnant with our son so I thought this would be easier? And my mother always used to tell me that coolness is good for a strong baby and the mother? Have I presumed wrong?”

You giggled and cupped his cheeks, “you’re so cute and thoughtful y’know but I want you in the bed.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “maybe sometimes I’ll have mood swings but I’m not going to eat you.” You glanced him once over, “well unless…”

He chuckled at that and pinched your cheek lightly, “let’s just go back to bed, I now understand zetarran customs are different from earth realm, but there’s plenty of time for me to learn.”

“Exactly.”

He extended his hand out for you to grasp, “wait actually now it’s been mentioned I am kinda hungry.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yeah!! I’d especially love to try a bowl of those insects you eat with milk and cookies right now. Ooo! Like some sort of sprinkled garnish!”

Nevermind, perhaps he’d never understand the complex ways of earth realm.

[alittlebitofsainz]

a place in this world - ch1

a dream come true. you, a race engineer in formula one, having built your way up through the ranks. sure, the 2020 season hadn’t exactly gone the way that everyone had expected, but this was your chance, your moment to prove to the world of racing what you and your driver, carlos, were made of. but carlos isn’t staying at mclaren forever, and eventually, you’ll have a decision to make…

pairing: carlos sainz x f! reader. slow burn colleagues to friends to lovers (please, from my own experience, don’t follow this pipeline)

info: reader lives in the uk due to working at mclaren, and is somewhat implied to be british. it is also implied that they listen to bbc radio 2 and support leicester city football club. this may or may not be because these things are true of me and I wasn’t planning on publishing this, sorry!

warnings: cursing, a lil’ bit of angst, very infrequent use of y/n, one (1) google translated spanish sentence, a dry british writing style xoxo a/n: hello! welcome to a little passion project I never thought I’d share with the internet. this will eventually become a sort of ‘choose your own adventure’ type series, where you can make decisions about your career that can eventually lead you to different teams and drivers. will be posting a masterlist soon with more info so bare with me! any feedback / comments are always welcome

Masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Chapter One: … Ready for It?

it had started out like any other wednesday. except it hadn’t, not really. the nature of your job meant that there was no ‘any other wednesday’. most wednesdays meant that you were jetting off to some new country, your wide eyed face in the window seat, reflecting back off the pane of glass separating you from the dancing lights of some exciting new city, 5,000 feet below. race engineer to mclaren-renault formula one driver number 55, carlos sainz, wasn’t exactly what you had listed as what you wanted to be when you grew up, but you were far from disappointed that that’s what your linkedin profile now read, a metaphorical middle finger to everyone who’d said you’d never amount to anything in motorsports.

but by all accounts it had been a relatively uneventful wednesday in your life, in fact even more so than usual compared to the early morning check ins at Stansted airport that you’d grown accustomed to. this week was silverstone, your home race, if race engineers could call it that, and that meant no early mornings, no check ins, no flights, no decanting your liquids into tiny bottles and zipping them into a plastic bag to take through security. this wednesday was a stop at sainsburys to fill up the tank of your vw polo with petrol, and an 80 mile drive west towards silverstone circuit. the most exciting part of your morning was getting stuck in half an hour of traffic on the m25; you didn’t even need the dulcet tones of Richie Anderson on radio 2 to tell you there’d be traffic at Potters Bar. as a native southerner, you could just feel it in your bones.

still, only fifteen minutes late to track wasn’t too bad, considering your lengthy journey, and you were by far the last member of the team to arrive. you would’ve been even less late, but for the fact that you’d sat for the best part of five minutes in your car, engine off, staring at the notification on your phone. there were so many questions running around in your head, first and foremost of which was why on earth did dan from engineering have your number? but the second question, which was possibly the more important one, was why did carlos ask him for it? he said that it ‘might be useful to contact each other.’ if the current expression on your face could be summed up in a noise, it would be a very confused and very emphatic ‘huh?’.

sure, you and carlos interacted a lot during race weekends, that much was a given. you were forever catching up to discuss data, strategies, the car setup, the sandwich options at the hospitality, why the leicester city football team would beat real madrid in a fist fight. so okay, your conversations weren’t allstrictly work related, and you could’t deny that the two of you got on well and seemed to really understand each other, but that was all part of being a driver and race engineer duo; you had to be on the same wavelength. it was non-negotiable. but swapping phone numbers? you couldn’t imagine why the two of you would need to text or call each outside of work hours, and you had work phones for that. which led you to your third and fourth questions: number three, why did you suddenly feel so nervous and giddy with excitement when you re-read his message for the seventh time? (question three point five was why did you re-read his message seven times?) and number four, what the hell were you supposed to message back in reply?

you typed in a thumbs up emoji and then immediately deleted it. how fucking old were you, 65? what next, start talking to him about the cold war? no, you had to keep it fun and casual, not too overfamiliar but not too weirdly distant and cold. god, why was this so difficult? you felt like a schoolgirl with a teenage crush, constantly typing various replies and deleting them again, letter by letter. eventually you settled on a cool, calm and collected response, typing it out and shoving your phone into your pocket before you had time to overanalyse what you’d just sent. quickly gathering up your stuff from the boot of your car, you spammed the lock button on your car keys, just in case the first five times didn’t stick, and trotted off towards the entrance to the paddock.

as it was approaching the hour mark since he’d sent his text, carlos had been starting to worry that he’d overstepped an unwritten boundary. why had he even asked dan from engineering for her number in the first place? it just felt like something that he should have. lando had will’s number, he’d already asked him that. but once he’d sent the message he realised that he couldn’t really come up with an excuse as to why he’d needed it, why he couldn’t have waited until he’d seen her this weekend and ask for her number from herself. like a normal person. deep down he knew why, though he was in some sort of state of denial about it, and it was the same reason that he hadn’t asked for her number two weeks ago in Hungary, or at the previous race in Austria, or when he’d first met her at the start of the season. 

he breathed a sigh of relief when her reply came through, 57 minutes after he’d sent his message. well, the first one that is. the second message came two minutes after the first; god, he couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to forget to include who he was at the end of the text the first time around.

but it didn’t matter now, because she’d replied, and her words on the screen made him smile to himself, her voice in his head as he read them through three, now four times over. his fingers hovered over the keypad, contemplating a reply. he checked the time - it wouldn’t be long until she arrived at track anyway and they could chat in person, so he closed the messages app on his phone and tucked it away in his pocket, deciding against committing any words to the everlasting aether which was the iPhone messages app.

it was nearing the end of a lengthy strategy department meeting when your phone went off, a few pair of eyes glancing your way as you apologised profusely, eyes scanning over the text before sheepishly putting your phone on do not disturb and placing it back on the table face down. shit, this meeting wouldn’t be finished for another ten minutes at least, and by that time all the bacon and brie toasties would be gone (everyone knew they were the best lunch option). worse still, you hated the fact that you had to leave carlos hanging; pausing the strategy meeting to send off a quick text was equivalent to a cardinal sin, even if it was to carlos sainz. your eyes were flicking increasingly often down to the time on your laptop, the seconds crawling by as the time approached one o’clock. it felt like whichever godlike entity governed the laws of time was toying with you; surely it wasn’t possible for time to move this slowly? the head of strategy wrapped the meeting at 13:04, and you were out of your seat like a rocket.

amy, one of the strategists, fell into step beside you as you paced it down the corridor.

“you’ve heard about the brie and bacon being back on?” she asked; you only had to reply with a grin to give her the answer that she needed. she eyed you up, as much as anyone power walking down a busy corridor could whilst still maintaining maximum straight line speed.

“everyone from strategy and engineering has been in meetings. so who’s your source?” came her second question. you picked up your pace, under the guise of trying to get to the canteen quicker.

she had a habit of taking just enough time to respond to carlos’ messages to keep him guessing whether she actually would respond at all. it wasn’t entirely her fault, carlos realised; she’d apologised for earlier, explaining that she was busy driving. of course she was, how could he be such an idiot? maybe a part of him was hoping that she’d been acting coy, teasing him by waiting, purposefully trying to keep him on the edge of his seat.

carlos saw her enter the canteen, watched with a small, self satisfied smirk as her face fell, the rattan shelf where the brie and bacon toasties had been, now depressingly empty. he left it just long enough so that she was forced to consider which disappointing option to go for instead, before finally calling her over.

“Y/N!” carlos called, watching as her head whipped round, and he had to stifle a laugh at her confusion. he waved her over.

“sorry, I was stuck in a meeting.” she sighed, her voice slightly breathless. had she ran here? he fought back the urge to tease her about it, shaking his head slightly.

“don’t worry about it.” he replied, gesturing to the seat beside him as he spoke. her eyes lit up when her gaze fell on the plate on the table, in just the way he’d pictured in his head. god, he’d never get over the way the simple things pleased her, and he didn’t mean that in a bad way. over the past couple of months that he’d known her, carlos had learned that the little things really mattered, in a way that was almost rare in this environment. she looked upon a brie and bacon sandwich like it was the sun that shined, and if she’d have looked up at carlos in that moment, she’d have seen that he was looking at her in the exact same way.

“is that for me?”

“no.” carlos replied, deadpan. she shot him a look, her face screwed up in a pout that he’d grown more accustomed to the more he teased her like this. eventually he let out a soft chuckle, as a way to say I’m only joking, of course it’s for you, and she sat down in the seat next to him with a playful scowl, which only caused him to laugh more.

“thanks, carlos. you’re the best.” she told him through a mouthful of brie, bacon and toasted bread.

“I know.” he replied, a cheeky grin dancing across his face. “it was the last one as well.”

“amy’s gonna be pissed.” she giggled, glancing over her shoulder to watch as her colleague was forced to settle for regular ham and cheese.

a podium finish to p13. was it worse to fail because of your own shortcomings or because of something that was out of your control? if you’d asked carlos sainz right now, he would think about it for a moment, and then tell you to vete a la mierda.*

his phone screen lighting up in the darkness was the only thing that brought his attention to how dark it had become in his hotel room. christ, how long had he been sat there, staring at the wall, trying to process how frustrated and angry and upset he was? he’d put his phone on silent, tired of all the commiseratory messages that had been coming through, but apparently his bedtime reminder didn’t obey the laws of do not disturb. sighing, he unlocked the device, and quickly scanned down the many notifications he had been ignoring for the past few hours. one stood out above all the rest, because of course it did. he felt guilt clutch him as he noticed the message from well over an hour ago. from her.not only guilty at the fact that he’d not seen her message, but for some reason guilty for perceiving that he’d let her down at her home race. it was stupid, he knew, to feel that way - it wasn’t his fault that his tyre had blown out with just a few laps to go, but he knew how excited she’d been for her first ever british gp, and it had all ended in disappointment. his fingers hovered over the keyboard at the bottom of his phone for a moment, a million different emotions whizzing round in his head, bouncing off the sides like a demented pinball machine. no wonder he had a headache. he drew in a sharp breath before typing out his reply.

*I’m hoping this means somewhat akin to ‘fuck off’

you’d almost forgotten that you’d sent carlos sainz a message of commiseration, which was shocking considering how long you’d been deliberating over it only a mere hour ago. you were back in your own bed in your hometown, seeing no need to stick around seeing as there would be no celebrations this weekend, and carlos had disappeared as soon as the team debrief had ended, making it very clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. which made it all the more surprising when you leaned over to your bedside table, bleary eyes blinking back sleep as your vision adjusted to the pitch black of your room, to pick up the phone which had woken you from your sleep.

your eyes blinked again against the harsh light of the phone, taking a moment to focus on the big bold numbers on your lockscreen. 01:03? who was texting you at this time? eyebrows knitted together in an increasingly deep frown, you scanned carlos’ message. as was becoming customary, you read it several times over, this time to check whether you’d read it right. why would he want to ring you, at this time of night as well? your mind started to reach for wild possibilities - was he in trouble? hurt? worse?

before he changed his mind, carlos hit the telephone symbol next to her contact details.

“Carlos, are you okay?” her voice came through almost immediately, sounding equal parts panicked yet somehow sleepy. shit, not only had he caused her to worry, he’d probably just woken her up in the middle of the night as well. what kind of dickhead rings a colleague that he’s only known for a few months at 1am? he cleared his throat.

“fuck, sorry, I woke you up.”

“don’t worry about it, I was awake.” she replied. a blatant lie, but carlos appreciated the attempt to make him feel better. 

“can I help you with something?” she continued, still sounding concerned. he shook his head even though she couldn’t see.

“yes, no. fuck, I don’t know.” he growled at himself for being so confused, so confusing, for not even really knowing why he’d called her. was he going insane, or did he just hear a soft sigh on the other end of the line? he squeezed his eyes shut, collecting himself to try again, but she beat him to it. 

“I’m sorry about today, carlos, it must be tough to deal with.”

sometimes it felt like she knew him better than he knew himself. he dragged a hand down his face.

“yeah, I’m- it’s not great.” he stumbled over his words slightly, his voice catching in his throat. usually he’d be reluctant to show this vulnerability, embarrassed even, but something about the late hour combined with how oh-so-soft her voice was… it made him forget his pride for just that moment. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” he admitted, feeling a ramble coming on but equally feeling powerless to stop it. “I know that it was a problem with the tyre, I know that it wasn’t my fault, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. and then there’s always a part of me that wonders whether there was anything that I could’ve done. like, maybe if I’d driven less aggressively or something, or changed the way I braked around a certain corner. I still feel like I’ve let myself down, let the team down, let you dow-“

“you didn’t let me down, carlos.” her abrupt reply broke him from his monologue, stopping him in his tracks and allowing him to fill his lungs with air, not realising how out of breath he was becoming with his run-on sentences.

“what?” came his soft reply. he’d heard perfectly clearly what she’d said the first time. but a part of him needed to hear it again.

“you didn’t let me down, carlos.” she repeated, with the same clarity, the same sincerity, the same low tone that he’d never heard from her before that made her sound so wise beyond her years.

“you didn’t let anyone down. this wasn’t your fault. I know it doesn’t make it any less frustrating or easier to deal with - there’s nothing I can say that will change that. but please, please don’t blame yourself for any part of it.”

there was silence on both ends for a moment, before carlos let out a long sigh.

“I- yeah, I guess you’re right.” there was something still on his mind, something that one am carlosknew that one pm carlos would never want to talk about, least of all burden his race engineer with it. but that was all the more reason to say it now.

“I just feel so much pressure to perform, now that I have the ferrari contract.” his voice dropped even lower as he spoke, as if whispering it quietly enough could make it not be true. “I feel like I have to earn my place there, you know?”

“carlos, you were P-fucking-3.” 

something about the way she stressed the syllables made carlos chuckle despite himself, and from the way she let out a small giggle on the other end of the phone, he guessed that that had been her intention all along. 

“anyone can see that you’ve earned that seat at ferrari. you’ve proved that time and time again already. this isn’t about anyone else, this is about you, and what you believe you deserve. the only person you need to convince is yourself.”

carlos chuckled again, feeling some sort of playful nature already coming back to him. maybe he’d finally figured out why he wanted to call her in the middle of the night, maybe it was even the reason he wanted her number in the first place. maybe it was because he knew that no matter how crappy he was feeling, talking to her always seemed to turn the day around. she always seemed to make him smile.

“very inspirational.” he replied, his tone almost teasing over her ‘believing in yourself’ speech. the corners of his lips curved upwards as he could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end.

“this is what I get for trying to be nice.” she muttered, but her tone was light, reciprocating the teasing. carlos smiled, his first genuine smile in several hours. probably since the last time he’d seen her.

“thank you, really. talking to you it… it always puts me in a better mood.” carlos confessed, glad that this was a phone call so she couldn’t see the way his cheeks lit up a soft shade of pink.

“anytime, carlos.” 

when they eventually hung up the call, carlos felt lighter than he had in weeks, like she’d melted all his problems away with her soft voice and warm heart. he slept easy that night. meanwhile, she was now wide awake.

you groaned when the sound of your phone pinging dragged you from your admittedly tumultuous sleep. it had been difficult to drift off again after that call with carlos, a million thoughts buzzing around your brain like a swarm of bees on cocaine. you felt bad for carlos, sure, but that wasn’t enough to keep you awake on its own. there was another feeling there; if you were to flip through an oxford english dictionary until you found a word that summed it up you might settle for ‘intrigued’. 

you were intrigued that carlos that had decided to ring you of all people last night; surely he had family, or at the very least close friends, that he would rather turn to? but you were also intrigued by your own reaction - why were you feeling so warm and fuzzy that carlos had chosen you, the knowledge that when he was feeling low you were the one he wanted to hear on the other end of the line creating some sort of feeling in your heart, like someone was squeezing it not-quite-too tightly?

it was these questions, and an incessant amount of bin lorries driving past at 5am, that kept you from falling back asleep, and were the reason that you were grumbling now, as you reached over to pick up your phone. the grumbling ceased the moment you read the message and saw who it was from, replaced by a softly murmured ‘oh’, and that strange feeling in your chest again.

as always feedback and comments are welcomed with massive appreciation and open arms! a second part is written and will be out soonish! much love, Katie x

[vampykween]

hi mic :D

i just read your toxic!husband!ghost fics and would like to ask if u could write one where the reader just gives up on their relationship, maybe they finally file for divorce?

loved your writing btw! ♡

hi hi! thank u! i’m so glad y’all are enjoying toxichusband!ghost hehe

i hope i did your idea justice. i have a problem with just letting asks get away from me oops! but kiss ur brain for this idea cause i loved this! i get way too excited writing angsty stuff

you would realize you’ve had enough on the most random of days. after looking after your kids all day and finally getting your house cleaned, laundry all done. simon would come home and not even stop to greet you. he instantly strips from his fatigues and tosses them somewhere on the couch, turns on the tv to watch the game, and kicks up his feet and perches them on the clean coffee table. just the sight of him makes your blood boil. you make a mental note right then to talk to a divorce lawyer cause jesus you couldn’t take anymore of this.

you’ve been agonizing over doing this for the past week. hidden in your nightstand drawer was an envelope that was going to change your life forever, and not just yours, your children’s lives too. that thought has stifled your desire for a divorce just ever so slightly, as much as you can’t take a loveless marriage anymore you know your kids will be hurt by this.

you and simon are lounging in your bed and you’re losing your edge to serve him the papers. you’re worn out from cooking dinner and doing the usual nighttime routine with the kids. you suck in a deep breath and remind yourself that this decision is for the best; you don’t deserve to be chained down by someone who won’t appreciate you.

“simon…”

“yeah?” he doesn’t look up from whatever he’s engrossed in on his phone and you roll your eyes exasperatedly. you’re swiftly reminded why you’re in this position.

“i- um, we need to talk.” god your palms were sweaty and your heart was hammering in your chest. why was this so much harder than you thought it would be. simon still doesn’t give you his attention and you figure you should just rip the bandaid off already.

your shaky hands open the nightstand drawer and fish out the large yellow envelope you’ve been holding onto for the past week. you nudge his shoulder with enough force to get him to look up at you, and shove the envelope in his now free hand.

he quirks an eyebrow at you curiously, “the hell is this?”

you gulp painfully and whisper at him to just open it. his large digits tear open the paper easily and as he’s scanning through the lengthy paper, you can see it clear on his face the moment he realizes what’s happening. he turns his body fully towards yours and you can see the fury in his eyes.

“have you lost your fuckin’ head. why on earth would ya want a divorce?” the bass in your husband’s voice rattles his words around in your head, simon doesn’t yell often, but god do you hate it when he does.

“simon, i just can’t anymore.” his eyes bulge incredulously at your words, but you ignore his idiotic look and continue. “i’m constantly bending over backwards to do everything for this family and you don’t even appreciate it. hell it doesn’t feel like you love me at all.”

“fuckin’ hell. you think you’re the only one putting in work for this family. what do you think i’m doing all day? and when i’m deployed? ya think i’m just fuckin’ around for fun?”

“oh my- are you serious?! of course i know that you work hard to provide for this family. did you even listen to a word i just said? i have to nag you to clean, to do laundry, to stop giving the kids all the things i tell them they can’t have. i have to literally beg you to kiss me and take me on dates! you never tell me you love me anymore simon!”

the rage behind simon’s eyes dims and he grasps both your hands in his. “love. baby, please you can’t leave me. you’re right, you do so much for us all and i know im shit about saying thank you, but who’s going to do all the stuff ya do if you leave?”

your face starts to grow hot as you begin to boil over with anger. you rip your hands from his hold forcibly. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me! you can’t even convince me to stay because you love me. you want me here so i can do everything for you. you know what? fuck you! i’m so sorry your poor mommy is gone and you need someone to fill that void, and i was stupid enough to play that role for this long, but i’m not doing it anymore.”

“oh you’re a fuckin’ cunt for that. bringing up my mum, you’re fucked in the head!” simon barks at you. you should feel bad, it was a low blow, but you couldn’t care less.

you scramble out of the bed, storming around the room looking for a pen. you’re throwing open drawers with so much force they’re just a hair from ripping straight out. when you eventually find one, you thrust it into simon’s large hand.

“don’t fucking care. you’re an absolute piece of shit. sign the fucking papers, please, so i no longer have to hold back the urge to kill you with my bare hands.”

“what about the kids? you’re just gonna take them away from me?! if you do, i’ll spend every day trying to remind them they’ve got a right bitch for a mum,” simon sneers at you.

all the love you had for simon has vanished, but hearing him say he’d spend eternity making sure your kids hated you? that tore your heart in two. your throat begins to constrict as tears begin to build behind your eyes. you really didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you were suddenly hit with the realization that the life you dreamed of was never going to be real.

you think back to your wedding day, your husband had written the most beautiful vows, which shocked you as you hadn’t expected him to be able to express his love for you that way. he had promised to always make you feel like you deserved the world. suddenly you woke up one day and the man you once loved was gone, replaced by a shitty, co-dependent, workaholic who sucked out all the life in you.

in this moment, you simply prayed that one day, you wouldn’t feel like every choice you made lead to this terrible life you have now.

[ryuichirou]

Since you have some headcanons on fem Floyd/Riddle, do you have any other genderswap ship headcanons for say Rook/Vil, Ace/Deuce and Idia/Azul? Sorry if that’s a bit too much

Anon, thank you for this ask! I’m always happy for the opportunity to talk about them, so I was actually excited to write this reply lol Since there are three ships there, it ended up being a bit lengthy, but I hope you enjoy the headcanons.

Just like in the FloRid post, the majority of the headcanons are more or less sexual, because the general dynamic between the characters wouldn’t change much.

Ace/Deuce:

They are pretty much “these two girls who always mess around with each other and it’s obvious that there is some sexual tension between them but they can’t acknowledge it”… yeah, just like the regular Ace and Deuce lol But with more boob grabbing… Well, usually from Ace’s side. Deuce also grabbed Ace’s boob one or two times but only as a revenge, and felt super weird about it. In general, sometimes it feels like they just try to come up with excuses to touch each other.

Which means they are also “these two girls who secretly kiss each other and say it’s some kind of practice”. This was also Ace’s initiative: Deuce only agreed because she didn’t want Ace to think that she chickened out. Or maybe there were other reasons hmmm? But yeah, they “practice” kissing every night, sometimes with Ace telling Deuce to imagine that she’s kissing her future husband or something, but it kind of makes Deuce’s kisses more stiff and awkward, which Ace finds hilarious.

Their kissing sessions would definitely lead to them touching themselves under the same blanket first, and then to them just touching each other. And they’re really a bit dumb and honestly think that their roommates don’t know what they do… but in all fairness, they really try to be secretive about it. Sometimes they even bite each other not to make any sounds.

One night they had a whole room to themselves, and got so excited that wanted to try something other than touching each other sneakily under the blankets. In short, they tried to do the scissoring thing… and didn’t really do it right, couldn’t find the balance, long story short they ended up falling off the bed.

Like I mentioned in another post, both of them wear sports bras, but own other sets too. And there’s been a couple of times when Deuce had to wear a regular bra, and just couldn’t make the little hook thingy in the back work. So yeah Ace helps her to put it on sometimes.

Rook/Vil

Like I already said in another post, Vil (just like the regular Vil) wears whatever she wants, and Rook prefers something functional (albeit stylish), so it’s not unusual to see Vil in a beautiful dress accompanied by Rook in a pantsuit. But if they were to get married, both of them would probably wear suits.

Not necessarily a headcanon, but a thought: with these two being girlies, Vil forcing Rook to take care of her hands and fingernails makes even more sense lol The first time was kind of rough for them. It wasn’t bad at all, but Rook was never allowed to touch Vil with her hands unkempt anymore.

Rook is skilled enough and knows Vil’s body well enough to make her orgasm in less than a minute, but she also likes to take her time and torment Vil a little bit. She likes it when Vil is having a hard time keeping it together and is getting impatient. Vil, however, sometimes just needs Rook to grab her, make her cum and then be free to do whatever she was doing before that. So whenever they sneak out, and instead of hitting all the right buttons at once Rook starts to tease her through her underwear, Vil gives her this very angry yet aroused look that Rook adores.

They are one of the couples who know everything about their own preferences, but also experiment from time to time. The catalogue of positions they like is quite vast, mostly due to both of them being flexible + Rook being very inventive. These are also the reasons why these two have absolutely mastered the art of scissoring lol

Rook is also very skilled with her tongue, because Vil is kiiind of hard to please, so one has to learn and improve to be able to satisfy her. One of Rook’s most absolute favourite indicators that she’s doing a good job is the fact that she can feel her head and neck being squeezed by Vil’s merciless thighs.

Azul/Idia

Azul is a bit of a touch-me-not: she likes being complimented on her looks, but is very uncomfortable with people touching her. Which is why Idia is a perfect partner for her: Idia is a bit intimidated by Azul’s natural sex appeal, so she never touches her and just lies on her back and accepts her fate.

That being said, sometimes Idia is allowed to rest her head on Azul’s lap. “No no, I’m good” Idia says at first, because this position is way too romantic and awkward, but then Azul forces her down and Idia just drowns in just how comfy Azul’s thighs are and how sweetly her perfume smells… if only Azul stopped squeezing her shoulder so hard to keep her down…

Sometimes they have sex a couple of times per day, sometimes they don’t have sex for a long period of time, and it’s because of Azul. She is a mermaid and doesn’t get human periods, but she must have some sort of cycle going on, because in general it’s like she doesn’t think about sex at all. Sometimes Idia looks at her and thinks “I wonder if Azul-shi knows how sexual this pose/gesture is”, and chances are, she doesn’t, because she’s too busy thinking about the lounge. But the next day Azul suddenly gets into the mood, tosses Idia, mounts her, kisses her, almost purring like a cat.

Azul (wo)manhandles Idia a lot in general. She tosses her, moves her around, throws Idia’s legs on her shoulders and stuff. Idia finds it both way too intense (not a bad thing lol) and a bit funny, because Azul tries so hard to look like a lady, but her actions are almost like of a hentai manga mob. Azul doesn’t fully understand what Idia means, but slaps her butt for that. It sounds offensive.

Azul is scarily good at cunnilingus for someone who doesn’t have much experience with sex. Or maybe it’s only good for Idia because she likes it when it’s strong and intense?? In any way, it doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, Idia isn’t sure if she is going to die faster because she’s overwhelmed or because she’s embarrassed.

[ilovenh]

Niall Horan blurb Summary: When Niall comes home from a long day at work and just needs you to love on him.

Warnings: None really (some crying/sad moment, kissing) mostly just pure fluff

It was a normal Thursday night in the spring. The birds were chirping as the sun was setting, causing the sky to turn a stunning orange and pink color. After putting dinner in the oven you sat on the porch watching the sunset at you and Niall’s shared house. You two had been married for almost 2 years now. Sure your relationship had some bumps in the road, but here you are in your dream house watching the gorgeous scenery around it, waiting for your husband to come home from work. With the release of his third solo album Niall has to spend lengthy hours at the studio working. But he loves it, and you love seeing how much hard work he puts into doing what he loves. You hear the front door open and footsteps knowing he must be home. You get up and walk into the house to greet him. “Hey babe” you say “How was the studio”

“Good” is all he says in a dismal tone. You look at him and notice how exhausted he looks. The usual big beaming smile on his face gone.

“Ni are you okay?”

“yeah just a little tired”

You were about to try and figure out what was going on since this behavior was very unlike him, but the timer on the oven went off letting you know dinner was ready.

You two ate dinner together and while you tried to brighten to mood and talk to him, he would only give you short answers and that sad frown. He eventually got up to go take a shower and change. You finished cleaning up from dinner and walked past your bedroom, and that’s when you hear something. You get quiet to listen. And that’s when your heart breaks. Crying. Coming from the bathroom.

“Niall are you okay?” You ask really concerned as you walk into the bathroom. “(Y/N)?” He asks nervously.

You take your clothes off and open the shower door stepping in. He has the most crushed look on his face, eyes red from crying. “baby” is all you can get out before he wraps his arms around you and buries his head in your neck. You instinctively wrap an arm around him rubbing his back while the other goes into his hair. You stay like this for a few minuets.

“Ni, baby talk to me please” “what’s wrong”

“I’ve just been under a lot pressure lately. I have a lot of work to get done, people want new music but I can’t seem to write anything I think is good enough.” He told you, a few tears falling down his cheeks.

“You are good enough and I know everything you write is.” You assured him wiping the tears off his face.

“Thanks baby. I love you so much.” He said holding your face between his hands, kissing you. You two stayed there kissing before you finally broke apart from each other.

“I love you to Ni” you finally breathed out. “why don’t we get out of the shower. We can cuddle and watch a movie” You tell him. You both get out the shower and dry off. He puts on his boxers and you put on one of his old T-shirts and sweats. You go to lay down on the bed and he’s quick to lay on top of you. He lays his head on your chest while his arms and legs are tangled with yours. You play with his hair and kiss the top of his head. This sweet moment makes you realize just how lucky you are. Your husband and love of your life cuddled up in the bed with you while a movie plays quietly. It’s not long before you hear snores coming from Niall making you smile.

“I love you so much Ni” you whisper kissing him. And it’s not long before you fall asleep to.

—————————————————————————

This is my first time writing so feedback is very much appreciated! I want to know what you guys like and anything you would like to see. But remember I am human and my writing is just for fun so please be nice!

[olderthannetfic]

I’m kind of surprised that the whole heteronormativity BL discourse turned into me hating femme men and wanting every man to be masc. It’s doubly nuts because the story I described that got the brunt of this was one I made because of a certain masculine gay character trope that I really hated, to the point where my idea of fixing it was to basically make him sensitive and soft and a yuri on ice fan, and bullied for his lack of masculinity. If I find myself hating or feeling negatively about any part of a BL story it’s usually because of the actions of the top/seme character.

If a BL is bad, or I don’t know if it’s good or not, or I think there’s any bad writing moments at all, the top is usually the problem. This rule applies even if I think the top is a great character. This applies even if the bottom is a fucking terrorist who crippled an innocent young woman and tortured her for hours and never once grows as a person the whole story. (to be clear I really like the story i’m talking about and would recommend it, halfway across by dracze, but it’s still insane how the top basically NEEDS to be at the more toxic one in the relationship if the story has any flavor whatsoever). I know there are obviously exceptions, I can’t name a single one at the moment.

None of what i’m saying is a criticism of BL or of masc gay characters, i’m just saying that way too many people jumped to one specific conclusion about me based on my words. I really hope this doesn’t turn into discourse about me hating masc gay men and wanting everyone to be femme or some shit. I’d probably rage quit the internet for a week if that happened.

--

You are the only one who can't let this go. Everyone else forgot about it five minutes after it happened... or would have if your ongoing behavior didn't remind them.

--

As I've explained numerous times, people respond to the subtext and vibe of what a person writes as much as to their literal words. You said a bunch of shit that was laden with buzzwords and dogwhistles from communities with bad attitudes. People picked up on that.

You send lots of lengthy posts that are hard to parse and that come out of nowhere. And no, "you don't have to answer this but..." is not the ass-covering you think it is. I have to at least look at the posts in my inbox to evaluate them before they go in the queue. Normally, I don't mind if the same person sends me lots, and I don't care if they're all super interesting, but yours are particularly self-absorbed, boring, and horribly-written.

They're always phrased like "I think X about media Y". They don't invite discussion. They aren't tied to past conversations on here. They don't show the slightest spark of interest in what others think.

You apparently want eyeballs on your writing, both creative and nonfiction asks, but you're incapable of showing genuine interest in others. If these posts are an attempt to interact rather than to just say words in front of an audience, it sure doesn't show in the final product.

The posts people respond better to are just written better, but they are also more obviously part of a dialogue that treats other readers of my blog as peers, not a spigot dispensing free attention.

--

Why should anyone care why you dislike one BL or another? I get that you're trying to prove something about yourself, but why should anyone care about that either?

You are not the main character in other people's lives.

You're treating this like some need to clear your name, but fundamentally, that's assuming any of this matters to other people. It doesn't outside of refuting a given comment on a given post and then, like I said, forgetting about it five minutes later.

--

Every time you ask a new question, it just demonstrates the same lack of clue as before. For example, you recently asked (in part):

"What would changing my behavior look like? I have full plans to write […]"

It does not matter what comes in place of that ellipsis because no one cares what you do in your own art.

No one ever had an issue with your art because nobody has consumed it. And, to be honest, plenty of people have perfectly fine values for things they do. The fact that you do or don't include problematic thing X or proship stance Y in your own art is not proof of anything.

The issue is in how people talk to others about other people's art.

Endlessly trying to bring up your own work just looks like pointless grandstanding. Meanwhile, the vibe when you chat with others here has not really changed. There's still a strong subtext of unexamined assumptions and desire to make everything about yourself.

It's not about swapping out word X or Y. It's about your overall writing ability and command of subtext, which is poor. Really, really poor.

It's also about moronic statements like:

Like would it have made you mad that I said what I said if I removed those words? Because I didn't even mean them I just didn't think long enough to cut them from the post.

"Ooh, I didn't think".

Then don't fucking speak.

Or, if you do run your mouth without thinking, like most of us do sometimes, expect to suffer the consequences and don't cry like a cowardly little weasel when you do.

--

To be perfectly frank, I spend less time trying to promote my own work on here than you do. On my blog.

And I can actually write.

This constant me, me, me, me bullshit is what makes you seem selfish, self-absorbed, and like you're wasting everyone's time on purpose.

[booksofadventures]

Rules & Current Muse List!

{ Gonna have this pinned here and just leave this for my mobile user peeps! }

RULES

1.) Hey everyone, my name is Klemmie! I am nonbinary & my pronouns are they/them or she/her, I prefer they/them though! I am of age at 29 years old and have been RPing since about 2010, over a whole decade! Due to my age there might be NSFW on this blog at times but it will always be under a read more and tagged. On this subject, most muses are of age or have a verse where they are, please be aware of this and all main verse ages for my muses are on their bios on the character page.

2.) I am working a job which I usually only have a couple days off in the week and most evenings free. However activity and replies may be slow or low due to the nature of this being a multi-muse blog and my energy levels on any day. I will do my best to pop in at least once or twice a week with the intentions of queuing up any replies that I owe and once in a blue moon do I reply quickly and without queuing. But just to make everyone aware that this is how this blog operates!

3.) I am good with a mix of jumping into things without a plot; such as memes, open starters, random things are good. But sometimes I prefer plotting, even if only a little bit, especially when it comes to a pre-established relationship that isn’t the canon between two characters; this includes children of muses. I am okay with writing with said muses but I would like to have a bit of plotting to this as my version of the muse or muses as parents in question is not the one canon to yours as such, I need to make sure I know whats going on or all your gonna get from my muse is either ’ I have no kids ’ or i dont believe you, so i tend to avoid that if no prior communication has happened before hand! I do also like screaming about plots that both parties might want to do and discuss between us to work out a possible thread idea?

4.) This blog is multi-fandom, verse and ship. Meaning all threads even if tagged as in the same verse for a muse are their own story and thread between our muses, this includes for relationships, unless its a story that has been discussed and plotted between all involved.

We are also Crossover-friendly here! I love mashing up fandoms and seeing what happens!

5.) As stated in my first ruling, NSFW themes and topics may be present, if I feel that the topic, even if it’s gore and not sexual nsfw, is too heavy or unsafe to just have out on display I will always put it under a read more and tagged the triggers like; tw;__

6.) Continuing with the point above, I will not tolerate certain things like underage sexual content or abuse or any nsfw content with minors - this goes for muns & muses and hanging, if you are ever unsure of anything please ask me. This is also a if I ever forget or don’t tag something that is a trigger for you please just message me and I will tag them accordingly.

7.) Unless your muse has some supernatural abilities or in my muse’s canon knows things about them, please don’t use information that is like their weaknesses and things like that in our threads until my muse reveals them or it is revealed in a thread, I class this as meta rping/writing/gaming?? and it’s no fun???

8.) I’m okay with multiple writing styles, I don’t have the need for anyone to match my length in replies, I know I can get lengthy at times, but as long as it’s more than one sentence or is appropriate for the type of thread we are writing together, because sometimes even I just want to do shorter threads, though I do prefer more written and longer ones.

9.) I’m more into story driven threads, ones that develop my muses and yours hopefully, ones that develop a chemistry and relationship between them. These are the kinds of threads I prefer.

10.) I’m open to all plots and relationships, just come hit me up and let’s see what we can come up with!!!

11.) For shipping I am a shipper of chemistry, I am here for the development. But if you feel like our muses are beginning to develop something, please message me and we can talk. I am always up for shippy things and all relationships, I prefer them to be developed and chemistry based. I will not force anything onto anyone if they feel like something isn’t there.

12.) I’m no biggie on spelling, grammar is also not too much of an issue, but a clear grammar is preferred. As long as I can read and understand it for a reply we are good. If I am having trouble I will ask you to clarify.

13.) When sending in an ask, please specify a muse, one thing on my anxiety is when I get an ask without some specifying, sometimes I will throw someone randomly if I can but if not I get anxious about it, so unless you state one or that its for any muse I will not answer it, unless I know you & muse or muses well enough to know who it’s from or I have come and asked you to clear up who it was for.

14.) OOC =/= IC. I will not tone down my muses for anyone, but I don’t agree with their morals and choices all the time. OOC is not the same as IC.

15.) I have a habit of forgetting to reply to threads, if it’s been more than a week since I have replied, give me a poke. I may have forgotten or lost muse, this doesn’t mean we can start more threads and get back to it.

16.) Cool with anon asks & M!As.

That’s all folks! Hope that we can write something together soon!

CURRENT MUSES

Sora Ryuu - fandomless oc

Beetlejuice - au and canon

Rias mizuhana - au borderlands [ genderbend of rhys strongfork ]

Emery din - oldest triforce bro / legend of zelda oc

Torin nayru - middle triforce bro / legend of zelda oc

Leon farore - youngest triforce bro / legend of zelda oc

Hades - mix of sources / headcanon based

13th doctor - mixed of au and canon

Percy parker - spiderman oc { currently being rewritten }

Roxas - kingdom hearts

Riku - kingdom hearts

Spyro the dragon

Judai yuki - yugioh gx

Revali - legend of zelda

Link - legend of zelda

Zelda - legend of zelda

Edward Elric - Fullmetal Alchemist

Dean Winchester - Supernatural

Fizzaroli - Helluva Boss

Merlin - bbc merlin

Alphonse elric - fullmetal alchemist

Bill cipher - gravity falls

Eleventh doctor - doctor who

{ Muses may get added or removed at any time, but I will post when I've changed anything! }

GUEST MUSES!

Yukio Okumura - Blue Exorcist

[chokohen]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Hi! I’m Cho! I’ve been roleplaying and writing fanfiction for about eight years now! I took a two-year break from roleplay because I got busy, but now I intend to get back into the groove. I really miss roleplaying and hyper-fixating on original characters with others, so I hope to find that again making this post to scout partners ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹!

Cho ⁞ He/him ⁞ 18

All art by Takeshi Obata

Roleplay Status: CLOSED

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

FYI: I will not roleplay with anyone who is a minor or under 18!

I⎯ HOW TO CONTACT ME: I roleplay exclusively on Discord, so please contact me @y2kkoko. My name is char on there, which you can also call me. You can also contact me here if you want to roleplay, however, we will take it to Discord after our initial introduction. So, you definitely need Discord to roleplay with me. If you have any further questions, you either ask under this post or click the “Ask me Anything!” on my profile!

II⎯ LITERACY LEVEL: I’ve always been literate throughout the years I’ve roleplayed. Though, as of recently, I’ve been an advanced-literate to novella roleplayer. I find it much more enjoyable being advanced-literate. I like writing detailed and lengthy replies with more than five paragraphs. Usually, my replies range from 1000-2000 words per response, so please be okay with that. I’m detail-oriented in my prose. I enjoy describing emotions and details of the environment/setting. I’ll be sure to leave an example of my writing style at the end of the post ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧!

III⎯ VOCABULARY & GRAMMAR: I don’t take this so seriously. I’m not a pro editor, but please keep your typos to a minimum. Sometimes if there are too many typos in one sentence it becomes very hard to read. As for grammar, I don’t notice any minor grammar mistakes—to this day I don’t know how a semicolon works. I’d also like to consider a lot of people on here don't have English as their first language, so I understand.

IV⎯OC CRITERIA: I’m not very picky when it comes to original characters, as long as they’re interesting and intriguing. I, myself, draw, so two out of the three of my original characters I drew. However, face claims are completely fine if they are real people, anime or art (that is credited and/or granted permission via the artist).

V⎯THEMES & GENRES: Like previously mentioned, I’m not a picky guy, so a lot of genres I’m open to roleplay. However, I do have a few I specifically love. I like romance, science fiction, historical fiction, fantasy *looks around awkwardly* and smut—ANYWAYS! When it comes to historical fiction, I’m not educate on every historical event or past-time in the world, so obviously there’s limits to what I can and can’t roleplay.

As for themes, I’m an avid enjoyer of angst, especially hurt/comfort. I’m fine with dark themes such as drug abuse and violence. However, I will not roleplay anything that’s under the umbrella of sexual assault, such as pedophelia and sexual coercion. I’m fine with sexual assault being mentioned in your character’s backstory, but that’s as far as it can go.

Though, for NSFW, I don’t know what I don’t and do like, so please communicate to me what you plan on doing if we ever roleplay smut.

VI⎯ PLOTTING: I never have plots in mind, but I do have an old stack of plots buried somewhere in my Google Docs. Though, I’m good at making them and being a helping hand according to my previous roleplay partners. With that being said, I don’t want to make a plot where I’m the only one constructing the storyline. Roleplay isn’t a one-sided effort, so, please, put mutual effort into creating and writing the scenes.

VII⎯ PAIRING CRITERIA: I don’t limit myself to any relationship dynamic, but most of and probably all of my roleplay experience is with lgbtq pairings. This includes mlm, wlw and anything under that umbrella. I don’t exclude those who are non-binary or gender non-conforming (e.g. gender fluid and two-spirit people). Since I’m a gay guy, I’ve mostly roleplayed mlm. However, even though I’ve barely roleplayed wlw, I’ve written a lot of wlw short stories and read and watched alot of wlw fiction so I’m not uneducated in that manner!

Further clarification of what I pairings I can do:

man loves man (mlm)

trans man/transmasc loves man (mlm)

non-binary/gender non-conforming loves man (nblm)

woman loves woman (wlw)

nonbinary/gender non-conforming loves nonbinary/gender non-conforming (nblnb)

trans woman/transfemme loves woman (wlw)

nonbinary/gender non-conforming loves w (nblw)

man loves woman (mlw; inexperienced)

pretty much anything.

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒

I⎯ JUJUTSU KAISEN: I’ve been a fan of Jujutsu Kaisen since 2021, so I know quite a lot about it. Unfortunately, I’m not completely caught up to the manga. From what I remember, I read up to chapter 210. However, I know all the spoilers and the current plot in the recent chapters either from leaks or from online gossip! I’m a huge SatoSugu shipper, and Geto is one of my all-time favourite characters! I also like Itadori and Choso ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

II⎯ HELL’S PARADISE: JIGOKURAKU: I have only watched season one of Hell’s Paradise and only read some of the manga. However, I’m up to roleplaying any of the plot of season one (as of the time I’m posting this: May 7th, 2024). My favourite characters are the Tensen (I’m sorry, I have a love for villains), Sagiri and Yuzuriha!

III⎯ TOKYO REVENGERS: Oh, I love Tokyo Revengers so much ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧! I’ve been a fan of TR since 2021, and despite the fact the manga is finished I still obsess over it to this day. My all-time favourite character is Koko, and I love him so much. I really love Inukoko, so if anyone sees this post and is both a Tokyo Revengers fan and loves Inupi x Koko, please hit me up. I’m begging to roleplay Koko in any situation possible.

IV⎯ GOKURAKUGAI/GOKURAKU DISTRICT: This manga is fairly new, but I’m in love with the plot right now, along with the art style and character designs. I’m free to play any character from this manga! My favourite from Gokurakugai is Yomi (the hot evil guy with white hair).

V⎯ CHAINSAW MAN: I’m caught up with Chainsaw Man, both part one and part two. However, I’m only like a chapter or two behind in part two. My favourites from this series is Reze, Denji, Quanxi, Makima and Aki. I love RezeDenji a lot. Lastly, I’m completely fine with playing any of the character’s I listed prior.

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

I⎯ TIME ZONE: My time zone is Easter Standard Time or EST/EDT. Please be at least an hour to three hours away from my time. I feel it’s really hard to roleplay with people who are five to six hours ahead of me, and let’s not even fathom how hard it would be to roleplay with someone 12 hours ahead of me. With that being said, my activity time during the week is much less than during the weekend. I am definitely active on the weekend unless I have a huge assignment or project due. I have to warn you that a few of those will come up, so I will go inactive for a few days.

II⎯ COMMUNICATION: With that being said, communication is key to keeping my future/our partnership together. I do like talking a lot out of the roleplay, discussing storyline ideas, making jokes and being compatible with my partners. Furthermore, I will tell you if I have a huge project or assignment due, or if exam season is coming up. Please do the same if you’re busy and tell me in case you can’t reply. As of now, I believe my replies will take 2-3 days, though when there’s a lot of homework I might not be able to reply until the weekend. However, I will try to talk to you OOC in the meantime!

WRITING EXAMPLE

Once again, please contact me if you read through these rules and think we are compatible! You can either DM me on here or DM me on discord @y2kkoko

[hyuckswoman]

you shouldn’t have to worry about thinking that about yourself. i might just be a stranger on the internet and honestly i might be projecting a little bit but i need you to understand that your self worth shouldn’t be determined by what a man thinks. especially when i can probably guarantee that you’re 100000000000000 times more attractive than he is. to be honest with you no i don’t have unwavering confidence and sometimes i really wish i did but i feel the same way you do and in feeling that way i really really want to do my best to make sure that no one else feels like that. i know it’s hard not to think about things like that and honestly i might not be the best at giving advice either because i’m usually the person needing it. but trust me that one day you’re going to meet someone who will sweep you off your feet and make sure that you never doubt how they feel about you. and if someone can not give you the reassurance you need and won’t listen when you try to explain how you’re feeling LEAVE. please. i went 19 years of my life without a boyfriend and honestly i wish i never had one at all because the trauma he left me with isn’t worth it. take your time okay? there’s no need to rush at all. i know sometimes you probably feel like everyone around you seems to be moving at a faster pace in their life than you and that’s fine, let them. focus on school and the things that make you happy. surround yourself with people who make you happy and love will find you along the way. and do not let ANYONE pressure you into a relationship when you’re not sure how you feel okay? that’s what happened to me and it’s the biggest regret that i have. left me with so many emotional scars. i just need you to know that there are people who care about you and love you for who you are. people who think that you are beautiful and amazing the way you are. i personally love the way that you write and if i had more confidence i wouldn’t be sending this anonymously, but just like you i have doubts about who i am. i wonder frequently if i’m worthy of being loved and cared for and so i just need you to know that YOU are. be happy okay? i know it’s a hard request but be happy please. just focus on what makes you happy because that’s what you deserve in your life. i wish nothing but the best for you and maybe one day i won’t be messaging this stuff anonymously but as i said i will be here to remind you of how loved you are until then. we might just be strangers on the internet but the world isn’t always an awful place and i love (mostly) the communities in kpop. as i said before keep your head up you’re beautiful. beauty is more than just looks and even then i’m sure you look incredible (i haven’t met a kpop fan that wasn’t beautiful). you know i bet if i was in the same country as you and i saw you at tds3 i’d be like damn they really be looking at fans prettier than me. once again i love you i hope you’re having the best day ever and if you ever need me just ask (use the emoji, i’m lurking daily for story updates 👀) i love you i love you i love you you’re beautiful mwah 🧸

this. deserved a lengthy and thorough response, i apologize if i go all over the place lol

honestly speaking im not the beauty standard where i live so that definitely 1000% didn’t really help and like the lack of crush i’ve had throughout the years made me never think abt if i was pretty or not, like it registered as a fact in my brain that i am not attractive so i never paid mind to it but finding someone i find attractive and having to ig asses myself made me want to kms‼️‼️😁😁

but ig now that we’re here a couple of days later i def think 1000% that it wasn’t that serious and i was just being silly (this is me regretting posting my thoughts on the internet)

nevertheless, thank you for your kind words yet again, i also hope i won’t end up bitchless lol 🙏🙏 (humour‼️‼️‼️)

i hope you’ll feel better about what happened with your ex and im sorry the pressure extended to this point. i sincerely hope you’re doing progressively better as the days go by and that the scars will fully heal (that’s done with time btw so do not fret 🤓)

also! i completely understand being anonymous i mean i am too… so do not worry i fully understand you also don’t know abt the whole finding me pretty but that would be bringing up stuff we’ve alrdy discussed so MOVING ON!

i hope that we can both grow confidence with time enough for it to be unwavering, i sincerely hope only great things for you and wish the best, i also wish i could give back the kindness you’ve shown me and hope that only good things come your way as that’s what you deserve!! thank you for reassuring me despite the response you’ve been gettingggg lov u right backkkkkkkkkm‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️hope you have a great dayyy and you’re also BEAUTIFUL inside and OUT‼️

[skzoologist]

Hi, again!

First of all, ofc I wanted to send you my message to you. Don't you think I checked who I was sending my request to?! (hope you're laughing) You said you're not deserving of those words ("undeserving"). And that's just a proof that you really do deserve this and so much more if my sixth sense is correct. And believe me, I have a hell of a sixth sense.

About the series there are some parts that just crazy I mean what were the producers and writers thinking?! But in the end I liked the characters and the developments of the characters and the whole initial idea. It's a long and interesting journey if you want to check it out, but I recommend it if you like post apocalyptic style and sci-fi or fantasy.

If you feel like writing in connection with this drabble, spill the tea, you got a reader who I'm fucking sure would love to read it.

Don’t apologies for expressing yourself! I wrote quite a long messages too (should I say sorry? I don't want to. I want to praise you instead), and if we're at the topic what would you do on your blog if not expressing yourself? And sorry, I will probably write you at length every time:( Thank you again! You made such an iconic ending here.

So I have just read your post about my request. And I got emotional. It's a big deal, at least for me I don't usually get emotional from reading smt. And don't get me wrong, it's not a bad thing that you made me emotional, maybe I just get very attached to your character and the way you portray the other members. I really liked it. Thank you for writing it. I read it before going to bed. I could sleep happily after. (not because of the events, but because you have created something so beautiful) Also thank you for writing about them all!! And from Binnie’s perspective?!😭 thank you!

After reading it, I feel like you have some experience… I just hope I'm wrong. I'm wrong, right?

Hope you have good days and please find a little sunshine in every day, ‘cause sure there is.

Kind regards

Welcome back, sweetie!

Haha, you caught me, it did make me laugh, you're right. Of course you would check who you were sending an ask to, just... It's unbelievable, you know? Whenever someone expresses such nice words to me and my silly little hobby to this day feels like a dream. By no means am I saying my writing is bad, it isn't, but I also don't think it is deserving of all these wonderful words. I have very low self-esteem, and I'm very harsh with myself. But who am I to battle against your sixth sense, hm? 😉

The series sounds, fun, I'll put it onto my list! All those genres you listed are right up my alley (yes, hello, extremely big fantasy nerd over here), so thank you for recommending it to me!

Ooh, I see, maybe I might in the future then. Although most of the plot points are spoiled already, haha. But who knows what the future will bring.

Why are you so nice, I'll cry 😭 I have a bad habit of rambling and I don't want to be that annoying author who writes lengthy author notes-- But yea, I see your point, you're right. And I love receiving lengthy messages! I love reading every word and see how each emotion is carried through the pharagraphs. So don't stop, please.

You're very welcome, I enjoy writing about all the boys and how they would react to certain situations. And Changbin just fit into this request's role perfectly, and I also feel like he needed a bit more love here, so that's why I went with his perspective. And your words mean so much to me, because my goal with my writing is to convey the feelings of the character whose perspective I'm writing from, as if you, the reader, were in their place. I'm incredibly happy that you liked what I wrote and while it made you emotional (don't worry, I cried while writing it and I don't cry very easily), it also granted you a nice, happy sleep. Really, thank you for telling me these, they certainly made my day, if not week.

I'm incredibly flattered, and also concerned I've successfully written something about death and the loss of a loved one, while I haven't experienced it myself.

Thank you. Messages like these are my much needed sunshine, and I hope you can find yours everyday too!

[prettyvixenavenue]

Hi girl was hoping to get some advise/input 💗. So I’ve been talking to a long distance guy for over a year now and I’ve went and visited him 2 times. Things have been rocky with him from the start and just recently he told me how he is moving and wanted to see me before he moves which was in such a short amount of time. I was supposed to go visit him mid august but was upset with how things went last time so I canceled the trip as I was nervous to go back (he left me last time after drinking and hooking up I was blackout and he blocked me while I was there because he said he was supposedly upset at me for talking to him about other guys when I was drunk...) anyway he was upset by that and told me over and over it was going to be done if I didn’t see him the week prior to when he was leaving. I was of course upset by this but at the same time don’t like the way he’s treated me so far....he told me it was on me to fix things and to come and if I did we could and if I moved there how he would come and live with me. Now we haven’t talked and tried messaging him many times and he ignores me....he only responded once saying “you fucking thought I was playing, you should have come”. He’s moving to a city in Florida called Naples and he was living in Miami prior. He’s done this many times where he was be upset with me and ghost/block me or give me silent treatment but it makes me so upset when he does....but this time I don’t understand. I’ve also paid for the hotel and flight each time I’ve gone and it makes me upset he said it’s on me to fix things when he’s part of it. Any thoughts?

🚩: when he’s upset with you, he ghost/blocks you instead of properly communicating.

🚩he has done it multiple times.

🚩 constantly putting the blame on you, puts you out to be the bad person, relies on you to fix the problem. very one sided.

being that this a long distance relationship, communication and understanding of one’s feeling is very important. great communication is the main requirement for a long distance relationship especially, it has to be 100%—trust, consistency balance, and reassurance. it’s more of course but still.

the whole entire message from beginning to end, you are unsure, aware they you are not liking how he’s treating you and the relationship has been rocky from the very beginning, also, confused on why he’s making you feel like your the problem because he doesn’t know how to properly communicate to you. instead it’s giving “you’re the problem, i am the victim, it’s your fought, it’s on you not me, figure it out” very immature, childish, and unacceptable. also, you said this relationship has been going on for a year now which is more then enough time to for him to learn how to express feelings, communicate, and take accountability which from what you told me, he know how to 0 of. he’s gaslighting and manipulating you.

you pointed out that you cancel the trip and you felt nervous (your intuition) because of what happen prior to you visiting last time which should have been a dealbreaker because even though you told me so little, i saw so many different disrespectful things just from that. he’s threatening to break up with you over something that wasn’t in your control like it’s common sense to know how alcohol works. it was a petty argument but if it was something that really truly bothered him then it should have been discussed the next morning while sober. a lot of things could be avoided with simple communication. I understand the heat of the moment because of what might have been said but no, it’s still not valid especially bc of the aftermath. I just feel like you’re doing a lot and he’s not doing enough or care to. you are always the one to go see him even if it was only twice. you are paying for your own flights, you are paying for the hotels—he stated he wants you to move where he lives and he’ll stay with you.

there’s too many mix signals and red flags. it’s very draining and tired. if you continue to deal with him, it’s going to emotional rollercoaster after rollercoaster. I understand that you may want to continue to hold on to this relationship because of “history” and feeling i know you still have but it’s not worth it. I can’t make you stop talking to him, i can’t make you break up with him, i can’t make you forget about him, that’s all on you. my advice to you would to leave him alone, it doesn’t seem likes he’s going to change any time soon. your emotional and mental health is more important then this relationship. you deserve someone who gives you princess treatment, validate your feelings, take accountability and most of all not dismiss you but communication properly.

right now, starting today, i need you to get a clear understanding that you are too good to be treated the way you are being treated, to stop lowering your standards and accept disrespect. you are the prize and this your world and everyone is just living in it. you have to set a high standard for yourself aka what you will tolerate and live by it. protect your peace!

[itsstrawberrymochi]

Hey Heyyyy(✿^‿^)

I have this request for demon slayer guys (any) where they're having a make out session with their s/o but someone knocks on the door and the reader goes to answer it so they get all pouty and stuff waiting for them to come back so they could continue💖

I'm sorry if this is too much or if you don't write stuff like that and ofc thank you!!(◕ᴗ◕✿)

Helloo I do hope you like this /3

Sanemi x reader

Warnings: Just a wee bit suggestive

It was a peaceful day at the Shinazugawa estate, you were currently laying on your boyfriend’s futon engaged in a book as he took a shower after his long and strenuous day of training. Sanemi usually took lengthy showers so you decided to do bit of reading to keep yourself entertained while you waited for him.

As you continued to read you heard the shoji door slide open, followed by heavy footsteps coming towards you.

Not to long after Sanemi came into the bedroom wearing a simple white yukata, his hair was slightly damp from his shower.

“Gee took you long enough” you joked putting your book to the side and sitting up.

He simply rolled his eyes at you and crawled into the futon, he placed his head on your lap and wrapped his arms around your waist.

You combed your hand through this damp hair and he let out a sigh of relief and allowed his body to completely relax under your gentle touch.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?”

Sanemi’s hold on you tightened

“ No, stay here” he mumbled in the fabric of your yukata.

You obeyed his wishes and continued massaging his scalp.

After a few minutes Sanemi began to kiss your stomach you let out a small laugh at his sudden action.

From your stomach he trailed his way up to your chest, collarbone, neck, and jawline with sweet, soft kisses.

Once he reached your lips he hovered over them for a few seconds before capturing them for a breath-taking kiss.

He placed his large calloused hand at the back of your neck and pulled you closer to deepen the kiss and with the other he wrapped it around your waist pulling you onto his lap, simultaneously you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His hands then began to wonder all over your body slightly tugging at your clothing as he did. Air seemed to be something you desperately needed so you pulled away from the hungry kiss to catch your breath, you looked at him softly panting and when he looked at you his eyes were burning with desire.

Right when you were ready to go in for the second kiss a knock on the door was heard you let out a soft sigh and got off of him fixing your now ruffled yukata. He watched you with a confused look as you stood up and began to make your way to the door.

But before you could make another step he pulled you on his back onto lap.

“ Where do you think you’re going” he breathed out as he attacked your neck with kisses.

“I have to go and answer the door Nemi” you softly chuckled as you tried to push him off.

Sanmei let out a scoff,

“ Leave it, they’ll go away eventually”

“ Don’t worry it’ll be quick ” you finally pulled away from him, you give him a quick kiss on the forehead before making your way to the door.

Sanemi let out a huff and crossed his arms, a very deep frown made it’s way to his face.

As you opened the door you were met with Genya who had a shy smile on his face.

“ Hi- hi y/n-chan….” he said looking sheepishly at the ground.

“ Genya! hello it’s so nice to see you is everything okay?”

“ Oh umm yes everything is fi- fine, I was wondering if I could have those extra scrolls you said you had lying around ….. I hope you don’t mind I’m asking for them”

Before you could answer your now very grumpy boyfriend butted in all the way from the bedroom,

“ Yes they do mind now get off of my property Genya”

“Sanemi!” You scolded, “ It’s totally fine Genya let me just go grab them ok?”

You walked into the bedroom for the scrolls, you looked over at Sanemi who was giving you a very disappointed look.

“You’re so inpatient” you playfully rolled your eyes and made you way back to Genya, handing him the scrolls.

“ Thank you y/n-chan, uhh can you please tell oniichan I’m really sorry for intruding”

“ ahhh ignore him Genya, besides I like it when you come over” you gently punched his shoulder.

His face immediately got red at the kind words and the sudden physical contact, he thanked you again and went on his way.

Once you closed the door you went back to Sanemi who still had pout on his face and his arms were still crossed.

You could’nt help but laugh at how cute he looked.

You walked over to him and plopped down infront of him, he give you the stink eye before averting his eyes to another area in the room.

“ Aweee is my nemi mad?” You teased as you poked his cheek.

He let out a soft murmur and turned his entire body from you so now you were faced with his back.

You hugged his mid-section and snuggled your face into his back taking in his soft scent.

“ Come on Sanemi don’t be like that I wanna continue kissing you”

You only received silence from him.

You crawled your way on to his lap, resting your arms on his shoulders for stability and began to give him gentle kisses on the scars on his face.

But he only turned his face away.

You clicked your tongue, you weren’t really sure what to do now.

“ Ok then, you can stay grumpy I’ll just be going over to Mitsuri while you’re in your mood”

You were about to let yourself off of him but his quick movements stopped you,

He placed his hands on your chest and gently pushed you so that you were on laying on your back and he was hovering you. He used one of his hands to pin both your hands above your head

“ You’re not going anywhere again” he said with a sly smirk straddling your hips, he used his other hand to tilt your head up so your lips were touching once again.

Apologies for the grammatical errors

[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!

[0darkonyx0]

Are you my Dad?

A/N: I'll probably write more in this universe but it wont be as lengthy cause this ideas was just very cute and I still have ideas. This also was BARELY proofread

Summary: When Techno was going to search that abandoned fallout shelter he did not expect much but what he wasn't expecting was a child

(Nuclear Apocalypse/Fallout AU)

Platonic! Technoblade x Child! reader

Word count:1.8k

Warnings: apocalyptic themes?

This kind of apocalypse is based off the fallout games also TECHNODAD

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To be fair, Technoblade didn't think this would happen. He had been on his way back from a job when discovered this old abandoned  fallout shelter.  He decided to go and search it for any supplies it had. Techno hadn't really expected much knowing that raiders most likely got to it before he had. But what he wasn't expecting was a seemingly alive child inside a cryogenic chamber.

‘Child pog...ORPHAN..Blood for the Blood god...take them… BLOOD.. ’ 

Techno tuned out the voices as they badgered on and on. He then scanned over the rest of the room. There were about a dozen chambers and the data tablets all showed them to be flatlined except the one with the kid. They looked no older than 4 years old from what he could tell. He didn't bother with it so he proceeded to go back to searching for anything useful and was about to exit the room until he heard a mechanical hissing sound from behind him. Alarm bells rang as his instincts went off, and he pulled out his pistol, turned around and aimed only to see the child that was once in the cryo chamber out in the open air staring up at him with unaware doe eyes. Techno realizing that there was no danger, slowly put down his weapon as he watched as the kid stumbled on their feet like a newborn deer due to them only coming unfrozen not even a minute ago. Once the kid got stable footing, they walked over to Techno and gazed up at him in curiosity. “Hullo” muttered Techno, looking down at them. The kid continued to blink up at him in curiosity, head tilted as he continued “What are you looking at?” He then crouched down to the kids level and tilted his head back at the kid. The kid proceeded to stare at him in curiosity until unexpectedly, the kid reached out and touched their hands to his face, gripping onto his tusks and touching his mutated features confused since they were different from their own. He almost thought he felt his heart squeeze a little at the kid's small hand curiously felt his face. He gently moves and pries the kids hands from his tusks  and face and stands back up.

 ‘Little baby…. SO SMALL…. ADOPT….E...EW ORPHAN…PROTECT..’ 

As the voices cooed , Techno huffs and  goes on his way to the door and exits the room. He held his weapon out at the ready since creatures tended to wander around fallout shelters especially abandoned ones. As he walked through halls, he could hear the tapping of small feet following him, very different sounding from his own hooved feet. Looking over his shoulder he saw the curious eyes from earlier peeking out from a corner. This proceeded to happen several times and with each time it amused him more and more. The kid followed him around like a duckling would  as he searched through the room in the vault. He had been in the medical bay, looking around when he heard a small yelp of fear behind him. He turned in urgency and saw the child, cornered by a adroach  with it trying to bite them. In urgency he pulled out his modified bat and killed it. The kid was clearly terrified, with tears streaming down their face. Once they noticed it was dead they ran over to him hiding their face into Techno’s body, clinging to him. Techno went still, not knowing what to do. He slowly patted their back in an attempt of comfort. “..It's okay…?” Techno said, unsure if that would be any help to console the child that was currently clinging to him. It seemed to work because slowly the kid stopped crying ‘TECHNOSOFT…..PROTECT…..BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD...TECHNOPROTECT…’

 When the kid was calmed down enough techno tried to pry his shirt from the kids tight grip but they wouldn't budge. He had almost had the kid pried off of him but the kid looked as if they were about to cry again and decided not to try anymore. Techno signed and looked down at the clinging child and said reluctantly “Seems like you’ll be traveling with me for now, since you obviously can't take care of yourself..” ”The name is Technoblade.. You got a name?” he asked. “(y/n)...” the kid muttered out , it being muffled due to their face still being pushed into his pants. Technoblade didn't see the point of searching anymore due to the addition to his party and for the fact that there wasn't much of anything. “C’mon kid.. You need to let go. I can't move properly with you clinging to my leg like that” Techno told the kid. The kid looked reluctant but did so now only holding Techno’s wrist. He let the kid do it.  Pulling the kid along he navigated his way with the help of his modified Pip Boy to the entrance he came in which happened to be the vault door that is in mangled bits. He gently pulled the kid along to the opening where they both could see a dirt tunnel with sunlight at the end. “Let's get going, kid” Techno ushered them along the path to the dirt tunnel until they exited. Techno shielded his eye from the sun with his hand. It didn't affect him much since he only was down there for a couple of hours but it affected (y/n) the worst since they were hiding their face into Techno’s body. Once their eyes got used to the brightness of the sunlight they slowly peeked out and removed their face from techno’s body. Checking his surroundings  he looks down at his Pip Boy’s map to see how long it would take to get to the nearest town. His main mission was to get back to L’Manburg so he could get his payment for the job he took. The closest town was a few hours on foot and L’Manburg was even longer, being a couple of days away. He sighed looking down at the kid, the kid looked back up at him. “You ready?” Techno asks and the kid nods their head aggressively giving Techno a toothy bright smile. ‘I'm so done for’ Techno thought, feeling his heart squeeze tighter than before.

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 It was 2 and a half hours into the walk when (y/n) started to slow down tiredly. Their eyes drooped tiredly, not wanting to walk anymore they tugged on Techno’s sleeve. Techno stopped and looked down at them. “What?” Techno asked. (y/n) looked up and made a grabbing motion upward, signaling they wanted up. “mm..sleepy..Teh-no bade..” they muttered tiredly and pouted. Internally he totally wouldn't admit his heart absolutely melted at the kid's  sleepy actions and how they said his name. He almost didn't pick up the kid but he fought against that thought and picked them up in his arms ,holding them with one. Once in his arms the kid nuzzles into his neck.

‘TECHNODAD...DADNOBLADE...AWWWW…..SO CUTE….LITTLE DUCKLING..TIRED LITTLE ONE...’

His heart almost certainly exploded. ”It’s pronounced Tech-no-blade” He quietly corrected, smiling slightly down at the kid that was slowly falling into slumber. For the short amount he has spent with this kid he just knew he wouldn't be able to leave them, no matter how hard he would try. He’d protect and care for them until he couldn't anymore.

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The trip was quite chaotic but they finally made it to L’Manberg. He comes to find out on this trip that once (y/n) got more comfortable with him they seemed to be more talkative and even more curious than before.  They were quite the chatterbox, babbling about anything and constantly asking questions about anything and everything even if they aren't the best at speaking. Usually the senseless talking would annoy him since he had grown up with Tommy but he found it endearing in a way. It grew to be the same thing with Tommy as well. Now that they are at the destination he can get his payment for the job ,maybe buy some things for the youngling and pick up some more bounties and jobs. Currently the kid is perched on his shoulders having the time of their life, them having never been up so high. They were giggling lots, gripping onto his dull pink hair to stay upright. They were quite the duo as they were gaining a ton of stairs. A little human getting a shoulder ride from a 7’8 mutated half pigman that is known as the Blood God. Techno could care less since he can just give a small glare and they would run away due to his status around here. He needed to get his payment jobs from the broker at the Las Nevadas bar so he could get back on his way but he first needed to drop off the kid at his home.  Techno proceeded to change course to his residence. He started to walk off in the direction of his house. The little one on his shoulders had long since gone quiet until they piped up with a question. 

“Where are we?”

“We’re going to my house”

Once his eyes caught the sight of the door to his home he lifted the kid off his shoulders and set them down on the ground. Pulling the keys out to the lock, he opens the door and guides (y/n) in. Once he closed the door behind them (y/n) let go of his hand and ran off to explore their new environment. Not long after he soon heard the tapping of claws on wood coming rapidly towards him. The thing that had been  making all the running towards him had come into sight as his dog Floof came barreling towards him.  Crouching down with a small smile, he meets the dog on the floor and gives him all the pets he couldn't give him when he was out. Once he looked up he noticed the kid tugging at his sleeve while looking at Floof in curiosity and slight apprehension. “..What's dat?” they asked, still looking at Floof. “This is Floof, my dog” “Oh” they nod in understanding. “He won't bite, don't worry. ”He reassures them. The apprehension from before completely disappears and courage is shown as they bend down and pet the dog the same as how they saw Techno do it.  Techno looks at them in straight fondness unexpectedly. Honestly he thought he didn't really like children all that much but when he met the little one somewhere deep inside instantly would kill for the kid and it got attached. ”I'm going to go out for a bit, be good both of you and stay here, ok?” He tells them. (y/n) and pulls their attention back to Floof and gives it all their attention. His mouth upturns slightly and he proceeds to leave his home to get his money for his bounty.

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Taglist: @strawberrymilkgeorge​ @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup

[ynscrazylife]

Can I request natty and reader cuddling late at night after a long day of work

soft natty with a shy reader pls

Like a Koala | n.r fluff fic

Summary: Natasha and Y/N unwind together after a long day of work.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/waredits

Natasha let out a long breath - not lengthy enough to qualify as a sigh, but not short enough to be merely exhalation - as she traced the inked words with her finger. She had been staring at those words for so long she could probably recite them if need be. Something inside her prevented her from reaching for a pen and scrawling incomprehensible words on it, or at least that’s what Natasha told herself. It was a lame excuse, one that wouldn’t last on when confronted by Director Fury the next day, but her exhausted-riddled mind didn’t bother attempting to care. So, what? Let him scold her. She could take it. 

Glancing up, Natasha focussed on her best friend and partner-in-crime who sat across from her at his own desk, Clint Barton. She shifted to rest her chin in her palm, supported by her elbow being propped up her desk. She watched him with wide eyes, marveling at how he managed to actually fill out any of that damned paperwork. (Looking back on it later, Natasha would realize that what he was writing was all probably bullshit, as was all his usual paperwork). 

Looking back down at her own stack and realizing how much time she had wasted hoping that it would disappear if she stared at it long enough, Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed as she quirky thought up a plan. “Hey, Clint,” she said. The only indication that he heard her was a mix between a hum and a grumble. That was classic Clint talk, so Natasha continued. “If you do my paperwork for me, I’ll let you beat me in training next week.” 

One look at how much paperwork she had and the archer shook his head, returning to his own with a scoff. “Tempting, but there’s no way I’m doing that,” he denied. 

Natasha frowned at this, sure that it was a good enough detail. She didn’t give up yet, though, determined not to have to concede to paper of all things. “You can test your new trick arrows out on me?” She suggested, sure that she would regret this later. 

Much to her disappointment, he shook his head. “I don’t want to injure my best friend, thank you very much,” he said, his eyes never leaving his paperwork. 

Natasha’s eyes wandered around the room as she struggled to think of a better offer. When no idea came to mind, she resorted to resting against her chair. She was nothing if not stubborn, that was for sure. Hearing her long sigh of self-pity, Clint gave in, but not in the way the redhead had hoped for. 

Truthfully, he had been the one to ask Director Fury to give Natasha her mission paperwork to do that day. Y/N was expected to return from a week-long mission, and Clint knew that if Natasha was not distracted, her worry would overcome her. Now, though, that distraction was oozing away. The slightest bit of guilt snuck inside Clint, not wanting to subject his friend to endless paperwork with no real point. There was a reason every agent dreaded it. 

One look at the clock told Clint that Y/N should be walking in soon. He just had to keep Natasha from succumbing to boredom until then. “Here, how about some music?” He suggested, reaching to get his phone out of his pocket. 

“Not your playlist. You have the worst taste in music,” Natasha’s complaint came almost as soon as the words had left Clint’s ever-chapped lips. 

The dusty-blond haired man raised his phone to hide his chuckle, not bothered by her insult. He had come to learn by now that when Natasha was tired, she was even more blunt than her usual self. Besides, it wasn’t like she had insulted his trick arrows (had she, and Clint might’ve just walked out). “I’ll go to your playlist, then,” he conceded, finding his friend’s playlist easily. 

Once he set his phone down, soothing classical music filled the space. Natasha leaned into the rhythm and how the music would sharpen and then soften at all the right moments, gaining the motivation to fill out a bit of paperwork. Not ten minutes had passed and she had fallen into her own zone, filling out each paper quicker than she had the last. It was because of this that she did not notice when the elevator dinged, signaling its open, but Clint did for the string that attached him to his paperwork was thin and short. 

Out walked Y/N, although she resembled a zombie more than a human then. Her movements were sluggish, looking as though she had to drag her feet forward every time she took a step. However, her head picked up when she laid eyes on her gorgeous redhead, a weak smile gracing her frowning mouth. 

Y/N was reserved. Or, that’s what she told herself. Deep down she knew that “shy” was a better fit for her, but she would never outwardly admit that. After-all, how could a trained and experienced S.H.I.E.L.D. agent be shy? That seemed like it would be an impossible dynamic to work. Against all odds, though, it rang true. To anyone she wasn’t close to, Y/N appeared to be studious and introverted. Perhaps that’s what had drawn Natasha to her in the first place - she shared the same qualities, especially when she started at S.H.I.E.L.D. 

It was for those reasons that her next action caught Clint so off guard. They were close, sure - good friends, even - but Y/N saved her affection for only very special people, and wasn’t one to show it off. Reflecting on it later, Y/N would presume that it was her exhaustion that tore down her barriers, allowing her to display affection in front of her coworkers and in the middle of work. 

Once she reached Natasha and stood right behind her, she planted her hands on the back of her girlfriend’s chair and boosted herself up. (Thankfully her chair didn’t have wheels, unlike Clint’s, or they’d both have gone flying). 

Natasha’s first thought was that she was being attacked. Clint watched her sit up straight, that familiar gleam of urgency beginning to enter her eyes, until she calmed when she inhaled the familiar fragrance of Y/N’s perfume. Y/N climbed over Natasha’s chair without a care in the world, more than happy as she wrapped her legs around the spy’s waist. She draped her arms over Natasha’s shoulders and nestled her head against the nape of her neck. 

Natasha’s only reaction was a relieved smile, instantly going to hold Y/N’s legs to secure her so she wouldn't fall. 

After adjusting to the shock of the situation, Clint couldn’t hold back his laugh. It was sharp and boasting, but one look from Natasha quieted him. “Not a word about this,” she demanded, knowing that her girlfriend wouldn’t be happy if she woke up to all the attention on her. 

Then, when she looked over her shoulder and realized that Y/N had fallen asleep, she allowed herself to relax. Pushing her chair back, Natasha stood up, hoisting Y/N up to make sure she didn’t fall back. “I’m going to get her home,” she told her friend, and they exchanged nods for goodbyes. 

She turned around and was halfway to the door when it occurred to her that she couldn’t carry Y/N, grab her purse, and get her safely in the car by herself. Sheepishly turning around (she did just command him to be quiet). “Mind helping here?” She requested.

Clint grinned goofily and stood up, joining his friend by her side. “Anything to get out of paperwork,” he joked, and then pressed the elevator button. When the door opened, he murmured a “ladies first” and then followed Natasha into the elevator. He pressed the first floor and soon they were descending.

Once they got there, they had to pass various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, all going one way or another. Clint shrugged off their odd looks with ease, but Natasha couldn’t reign down her feelings of protectiveness. She knew that if Y/N were awake, a blush would have taken over her features and she would have shied away. Her grip tightened on her girlfriend, gaze fixated on the exit door which was only feet from them.

Clint rummaged through his pocket for his ID card and flashed it at the door’s scanner. With a buzz, it unlocked, and he pushed open the door for Natasha to walk through. Once the cold, fresh night air hit her, it sent an energized wave through her body. Feeling it whip at her hair made her eyes open up some more and the sleepiness disappear. They reached her car, where Natasha told Clint that her car keys were in her bag. He unlocked the doors and opened the passenger side, where Natasha to put Y/N down to secure her to be safe and comfortable.

“Thank you,” she said as she stood up fully, ducking out from inside the car.

“No problem,” Clint said, still wearing a stupid smile even after he handed over her bag and keys.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What is it?” She said, her calculating and observatory nature coming back alongside her energy.

Clint chuckled. “Well I saw you disentangle yourself from her grip — is she always like a koala with you?” He wondered.

Natasha looked back at her girlfriend, donning a fond smile. As she thought back on it, she realized that he was getting somewhere. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/N to wrap herself around Natasha, for a hug or for a cuddle, as she began to recall. However, as much as she loved her best friend, she wasn’t about to let that fact slip. She knew him too well, that he’d take a mile after she gave him an inch and would bring it up anytime, anywhere.

“Thank you, Clint. For everything. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, directing the conversation in a different direction. Clint picked up on this, and she knew it, but didn’t push on it.

He watched as she shut Y/N’s door. “Actually, you won’t. You and Y/N have a day off,” she said.

Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed with a slight shake of her head. “Y/N does, but I—” she began to say, only to get interrupted.

“Leave it to me. I can be very persuasive when it comes to Fury,” Clint said confidently.

Natasha sent him a look of gratitude with a hint of doubt as she rounded the car and made her way to the driver’s seat. “Goodnight, Clint,” she said as she opened the door and sat down.

“Night,” he said, holding up his hand as a wave before turning around and walking back inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.

Once she was inside the car and had shut the door, Natasha allowed herself a sigh of content and relief. She was happy to talk to Clint, but even more so happy to just be with Y/N.

She made sure Y/N’s seatbelt was secure before putting on her own. Y/N had stayed asleep throughout the exchange, her head resting against the window. Natasha turned on the car and silently pulled out of the parking lot, navigating towards their shared apartment.

Once she parked in their garage and had turned off the car, Natasha lightly shook Y/N’s shoulder. The latter mumbled something incoherent under her breath, prompting the redhead to give her another shake.

She sluggishly raised her head, blinking a couple times until her eyes stayed open long enough to take in her surroundings. “We’re home?” She guessed, her words slowed.

Natasha nodded and stepped back, extending her hand for Y/N to take. “Have you eaten?” She asked as Y/N got out of the car.

Y/N nodded her head against her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Ate on the ride back,” she mumbled. Natasha tsked under her breath as she reached over Y/N to shut her door. She knew the most Y/N had probably eaten was some nearly-stale snacks, but also knew that she would be too tired to eat a proper meal at this hour.

Natasha wrapped an arm around Y/N, using her free hand to lock the door with one press of her key before leading them inside. She unlocked their front door and pushed it open with her shoulder, Y/N immediately letting out a content sigh when they stepped indoors. Once they dragged themselves to the couch, Y/N practically collapsed onto it. Natasha smiled down at her and then excused herself to go lock the door.

When she returned, Y/N was reaching for her and giving her a goofy smile. “C’mere,” she murmured. “Come cuddle with me. How was your day?”

Natasha happily sighed and did just that. Y/N scooted over to allow her some room to sit and once she was settled, wrapped her arms around her. Natasha gladly embraced her back, recalling what Clint had said as she watched the person she loved now. Her behavior resembled that of a koala’s, didn’t it now?

“My day has been the best now that I’m with you,” Natasha said, and it was the truth. She smiled at the warmth radiating from Y/N’s body. This moment surely had to be what heaven was, or what it felt like, she guessed.

Y/N hummed. She had seen the tired marks on Natasha’s face, but didn’t push it. They laid there in silence, their legs inter tangled. Neither of them spoke much in the next 30 minutes to an hour that come. The only conversation they had was when Natasha asked about Y/N’s mission and Y/N gave a vague answer, but assured her that her injuries were minimal.

They both ended up falling asleep. Neither knew if the other had fallen asleep before or after them — perhaps they had even fallen asleep at the same time. But the next morning they awoke, with content, fluffy smiles. Both of them had enough energy to feel like they could take on the world, but all they desired to do was to retreat to the warm blankets and comfy mattress of their bed and watch movies all day.

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