#but he just entered the classroom like 10 minutes later

[blu00u]

Fun fact: I infiltrated Blu into my classroom's whiteboard yesterday (I think)

+other doodles I did (and a SpongeBob my friend did)

[smuttycentre]

EXTRA CREDIT

M/n: Male Reader

Word Count: 1,604

Summary: Your hot teacher that you’ve been dreaming about all day asks you to stay behind. He has to give you a private lesson to catch you up from daydreaming.

Warnings: gay sex, teacher kink, cum in ass in condom, cum in mouth, swallow

GIF not mine

Author note: This is my first one-shot. Feel free to give critiques and enjoy.

You look at the clock. Only 10 more minutes until the end of the day and you can go home and have a wank over Mr. Saltzman. He was particularly sexy today, wearing tight trousers where you have been staring at the outline of his crotch all day. His shirt was tight and you could see his muscles pumping out and looking so strong.

All of a sudden you were snapped out of your trance and feeling the eyes of the class on you. You are called on to answer a question but you wasn’t listening. Mr. Saltzman knew this and was looking at you with a half-smile on his face. It made you mad that he picked on you but at the same time you wanted to rip his clothes off to punish him.

“See me after class m/n” Mr. Saltzman said showing you his dreamy eyes for a second longer before returning to teacher.

The bell rang a few minutes later and everyone scurried out the room with their books. You looked around awkwardly waiting for everyone to leave. Mr. Saltzman was sitting at his desk marking some paper.

Once the classroom was empty, you got up out of your desk and went over to your teachers desk. “You wanted to see me” you ask.

He looks up and his face gave the half smile he gave before. “Ah yes m/n. Daydreaming in my class again. This isn’t the first time.”

His tone of voice was somewhat stern and deep, as much as it turned you on, you felt intimidated. You stuttered over your words as you tried to apologise.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Mr. Saltzman said firmly. “We will have to do something about this.”

He then got up out of his desk and walked to the classroom door. He turned the lock and pulled down the blind. There was no longer any windows looking out, and none looking in.

“Mr. Saltzman?” You said shakely not knowing what was about to happen.

He turned towards you from the door and his face looked even more perfect than before. His tan was radiant and showcasing his stubble and jawline. You start to sweat a little.

“Please, call me Ric” he said with his deep seductive voice. “We’re going to have to find a way to get your grades up. If you’re not paying attesting in class, I suppose I will have to give you private lessons”

He walks over to one of the desks in the classroom and sits on it facing you. He lifts his hand and gestures you towards him. You don’t even have to think about it, it is as if impulse has taken over and you are already right in front of him.

You feel frozen. Waiting for him to do something. He leans forward so you can feel his breath and he whispers “Kiss me”.

You look at him. You look into his eyes as if to ask them if they were lying. You think to yourself “am I dreaming” but before you know it you are leaning in, slowly, and then your lips touch.

His smooth lips, as if from instinct of touching yours started moving, taking control. You feel every muscle relax and you trust him completely.

Neither of you have come out for air but you just keep kissing and moving around trying to explore each other as if you each had a secret you wanted to find out.

You finally gave in an backed away for air. This didn’t last long as Ric followed your movement and won the battle. His tongue entered you and you felt your heart skip. Ric was exploring your everywhere with his tongue and you liked it.

After what seemed to be a lifetime you grabbed the back of his neck and you forced his face into yours. This took Ric by surprise and with that you took dominance and started to explore his mouth with your tongue. Ric smiled at this. He liked it.

Not wanting to let go Ric pulled away. “Wow, you’re really working towards that A” He smiled and started to take off his shirt. You gave him one last kiss before he took the shirt off which covered his face a second. This was too long for you so you started to make up for it.

You kissed his lips, moved down to his chin and then around to his neck. You stayed here for a few kisses whilst also smelling him. You don’t want to forget his manly cologne. Ric couldn’t do anything but allow you to smother him with kisses. He guided you with his hand on your head.

You pushed him back so he was laying flat on the desk as you smother him lower and lower. You got to his left nipple and started kissing it softly. You then began to lick it and turning your head so you could see Rick’s face as you pleasured him.

You then moved onto his right nipple and began to suck it. This was what you have been dreaming of. You then move down his hairy body and got to his stomach. You start rubbing his body while he started to unbutton his trousers.

He was taking too long so you slithered your way back up to his face and met with his lips again. This time it was more familiar, more passionate. You took off your own shirt and shoes whilst doing this.

By the time you were done Ric’s trousers were undone and down towards his legs. You walked round the table and stood by his feet. You ripped his trousers so that all remained on your teachers body was his socks and his black underwear.

You slowly drift your hands from his legs to hips. You look deep into his eyes and his into yours. “I want you” you said.

“Go on then, show me how you study” Alaric said with his smile. You move your hands to his underwear as your head gets closer. You can see even more clearly the shape of his dick.

Without wasting more time you slid his underwear’s down to reveal his 6 inch cock. It was already so hard and pointing straight up. It wanted you. You wanted it. You slowly took his entire dick in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around and started to suck him off. You could hear his moans. Moans for you. While sucking you started to move your hand back up to his nipples and started to twist them. Alaric yelled even louder so much so your instinct was to put your lips on top of his to shush him. You didn’t want anyone in the school hearing him.

After a second of Ric looking at you lustfully, you resumed the blowjob and twisting of the nipples. Knowing that Alaric was so turned on and pleased was pleasing you.

After a while, Alaric lifted your head to his. He kissed you and got up off the desk. “You might want to take your bottom half off for this next task.” He walked over to his teachers desk and went into the bottom drawer. He pulled out a condom packet.

You saw this and eagerly got fully undressed. Your dick fully elevated pointing straight towards Alaric. He looked at you in the eyes as he tore the packet with his teeth. “Who wants it?” He said with the open packet between his fingers.

“Well, I guess since you’re the teacher, you have to show ME how it’s done” you said. He smiled yet again and said “Alright”

He took the condom out of the packet and put it on his penis. He then came back to you and sat on the desk and laid down.

“Come on then. Simple question: Where does the penis go?” You smiled and him and started to climb onto the desk.

You faced towards him as you slowly lowered yourself into his member. You stared at him as you felt him inside you. The pain turned you on so much that you started bouncing up and down instantly. You lowered towards his face and kissed his whilst both moaning from pain and pleasure all at the same time.

His dick felt so good inside you. The constant thrashing against your insides made you moan and grab onto his pecs. He enjoyed this and held onto your waist and back.

Up and down. “Fuck yes m/n” as he grabs on tighter and and holds you down whilst he cums inside your ass. Although he has a condom on you can feel every thrust his penis makes as it ejaculates the cum inside you.

You get off him and he looks like he’s got some news. “Lesson one is almost complete. I just need to see what you learnt from today.”

You’re confused as he gets off the desk and starts to kneel right in front of your dick. He looks at you and then looks at your dick and says “Show me what you’ve learnt”

You smile and laugh a little as you agree. You shove his head into your penis and he starts blowing you. It’s so wet and warm and you start to feel your penis erupt. You then shoot five loads into the back of Mr. Saltzman’s throat. His eyes are looking at you as he sucks you a little more before swallowing your entire load.

He gets up and holds your chin. He give you one final kiss and says “Good lesson today. Same time next week?”

[hai7ani]

OCTOBER haitani rindou

sfw

october is rintober! & happy national bfs day to this dork

college bf!Rindou who insists on walking you back and forth between your classes, even if your classroom/lecture hall is all the way across campus, from his and he'd have to risk being late if he chooses to walk you there. and you'd be a fool to not know that Rindou is one stubborn motherfucker especially when it comes to you -- the dude doesn't care. not even when you knee his butt and tell him to go because he is already 10 minutes late for Econs but he simply wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you along, "shaddap." he'll kiss the side of your head and laugh cheekily and you'll blush when a guy walking past looks at both of you with weird eyes.

college bf!Rindou who is an absolute beast in Math. the smug asshole takes Advanced Math -- not General Math like most normal, sane people do and you'll see him finishing up a whole worksheet in no less than ten minutes. he'll smirk when he catches you gaping at it and you'll pout while shoving your humble little General Math workbook that is nothing compared to his in his hands. "do mine, pleaseee babe." and he will always snatch it from your hands with a stupid lovesick look on his face that everyone but you can see. "ten kisses." he'll request, and he'll hook a foot around the leg of your chair and drag you closer to him -- because as much as you struggle with Math and he's always willing to help you finish it when you don't want to, Rindou doesn't want you to fail the subject, and he's always so patient when he explains different formulas and workings that you don't understand while holding your hand under the table as emotional support, because it's Math versus you, and he'll bring your intertwined hands up to kiss on the back of yours when you get an answer right. (you also keep up your side of the bargain when you enter his car after classes to press both palms to his face and pull him closer to kiss him ten times as promised.)

college bf!Rindou who secretly makes beats for you while in his Music Production class. the lecturer has said not to do any funny business other than focusing on the lesson and follow through with the steps that he's about to teach, and Rindou will still stubbornly open another file and play around with the beats while listening to his lecture. stupid boy claims he's good at multitasking and yet he always gets caught with it because the lecturer has called his name three times to answer a question and he couldn't hear it because he's busy weighing the options if you'll like this beat or that beat better. and when the lecturer lets him off after he's listened to the one Rindou made for you instead of the one he made after following through with the steps he is taught -- because it sounds so good the lecturer can't even be mad at him -- he'll secretly download and transfer the file to his phone and airdrop it to you when you're near. "what's this?" you ask while checking the file and plugging in your earphones to listen. "your snoring."

college bf!Rindou who leaves his Language class early to rush over to the ladies' toilet you're at and wait outside when you'd texted him about a graded test paper you've just gotten back. it didn't do well, and your eyes are red and puffy when you walk out of the toilet and immediately bury your face into his chest. "'s just a test. it's not worth a lot on your final grade anyway. don't worry." he says it softly into your ear while rubbing your back and swaying your body a little. and he convinces you to get back to class because you wouldn't want to get a bad attendance rate and he'll walk you there while holding hands and promising you that he'll take you for some ice cream later.

today, it is your turn to wait for college bf!Rindou outside of his classroom to finish his 3-5pm class. you lean on the wall with droopy eyelids because being a girl at this hour is so tiring and you just want to sleep. but you have a cinema date after dinner together and you really want to spend time with him, so you wait with a pout and you’re busy checking out your shoes while hugging your books close to your chest, trying to distract your mind from the sleepiness and you smile a little to yourself because you like these Nikes a lot -- Rindou had gotten them for you after you'd said that the shoes looked nice while doing some window shopping in Shibuya -- and your eyes glance around the empty hallway while pulling your manuals up a little more to cover your mouth to make sure no one else sees your silliness.

a very tall guy pads over and stands beside you with a huff -- having to get to a classroom at the fourth floor while the elevator is broken down is not a good experience -- and you immediately recognise him as one of Rindou's friends from Music when he turns to look at you. Hayashi, if you remember correctly, smiles lopsidedly and you bow a little at him as a greeting. "waiting for your man?" you nod with a laugh and he chuckles, "i'm waiting for my girl as well." he scratches at his forehead and the two of you engage in small talk while waiting for both your partners until he brings up a topic.

"it's Rindou's birthday soon, no?" Hayashi checks his calendar and you smile into the sleeve of Rindou's your hoodie, "yeah, it's the week after the next. on the 20th." he clicks his tongue at your words and shoves his phone back into his pocket. "fuck, and i still haven't thought of a proper gift. the guys were discussing something the other day on what to buy and someone even suggested that we'll just wrap you up in some wrapping paper and give you to him as a gift, because you're legit the only thing he ever talks about. you as his gift would be enough." you blush furiously at that. "what?" Hayashi nods while laughing. "i'm serious, no joke. he always talks about you when you're not around. ask him, see what he says." he nods to the direction behind you and your eyes are wide when you turn and see Rindou exiting his classroom and walking towards you.

"says what?" Rindou's voice is deep and hoarse, probably because he has finished his water two hours ago and he quickly snatches at yours to take a big gulp, "sup." he nods at Hayashi and they fist bump while Rindou chugs on your bottle of water -- typical college guys, nothing serious. Hayashi laughs a little and stands up straight, "ask your girl, and i gotta go to mine now. see you guys." Hayashi leaves with a lazy wave and Rindou stares at you with a raised brow.

you don't tell or ask him anything the whole evening despite his stupid whines and protests during the entire car ride to the mall -- you'll ask him about it in due time. and you cling to him a little more tonight -- holding his hands wherever you both go, wrapping your arms around his like a koala, rejecting a separate drink for you and insisting on sharing a straw for the Sprite in his hands that he'd bought for himself, taking spoon after spoon of his Yakiniku-don instead of eating your own noodles . . .

and Rindou is confident when you drag him to a big mirror and snap a quick photo of the two of you -- he wraps an arm around your neck, two fingers up into a lazy peace sign and the other hand holds his Sprite while looking into the camera -- and he immediately turns blushy when you get on your tippy toes and smooch him on the cheek with a bright smile that he loves looking at so much.

"happy boyfriend's day."

"shaddap."

something cheesy for him on national boyfriends' day!!!! and it's also gonna be his birthday soon.... i cant wait WUAAAA

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ reblogs are appreciated & thank you for reading <3

[itsnotmeep]

Apple Gummies

Inupi x Reader (Fluff)

A subtle friendship that starts with an apple and a boy who slowly falls in love. Inspired by “Ditto” by NewJeans

Inupi didn't know when he started liking (y/n) it had come so gentle that by the time he looked back to see the start it was all blended together with the memories that made her special to him. Liking her came as second nature, something that came as easy as breathing. If he had liked her since forever then he assumed it was the first time they had met that he had fallen in love. 

After Koko had saved him from the fire he remembered laying in the hospital bed staring at the ceiling not sure if he should celebrate being able to live or cry over his sister who couldn’t. If he could remember correctly, (y/n) had gone to the hospital after breaking her left ankle. Which if he was honest is not surprising now knowing her for so long. He had seen her trip over thin air before, let alone the times she was a victim of thrown balls. 

With the hospital quite packed the nurses placed her as his roommate in hopes that a company his age would help him adjust and help him feel a sense of normalcy. As he lay lost in thought the nurses knocked on his door and as he answered the (h/c) girl was rolled in.

“This is (y/n) she is gonna be your new roomie okay” The nurse said as she set the girls up and helped her settle on the bed. Once (y/n) was set. The nurse then did their routine check up on him.

Once the nurses were done, 10 awkward minutes of silences occurred. He could see her fidgeting until she broke the silence “ummm you want some apples?” Not knowing what to do, he agreed. The girl smiled and proceeded to throw her feet off the bed and hopped on her good foot. “You really don't need to do that, '' Inupi hurriedly said, feeling bad. 

“No, it's really okay just give me a second '' (y/n) said as she wheeled herself to the side of his bed with an apple and knife. She slowly peeled the apple and skillfully cut it into slices before helping him up and handing one up to him.

As he bit into the apple he saw her wheel back to her area ruffling through a bag and pulling out cards “Uno?”

Before long her presence was something he was used to, there wasn’t much to do in the hospital so the girl's efforts to fill up the boredom was amusing to him. Talking to let him escape the accident that plagued him at the time. After 2 weeks (y/n) was discharged and he thought he would never see her again.

Imagine his surprise when 2 months later while entering his homeroom with Koko for the new school year, he would see the girl sitting near the back of the classroom talking to two fellow classmates. He wanted to greet her but was interrupted by the door closing.

“Can everybody take a seat please, I am…” the teacher went on and on. Next thing Inupi knew he had zone out and lunch had begun. He looked toward the back of the room hoping to see (y/n) but was met with disappointment when he saw the empty desk. “Hey, you mind getting me a drink at the vending machine?” Koko's question snapped him back. “Yeah sure”

As he walk down quietly. The hallways were filled with chatter and laughter as students caught up and complained. Once he got the machine he saw her standing there with a bunch of drinks in her hand. “ Hey Inupi, it's me (y/n), I was shocked when I saw you. Who would have thought we would meet again? Don’t mind the drinks. I lost a bet and now I have to carry all of these drinks back. How are you by the way?”

He offered her a kind smile before answering her question “I’m doing better, how's your leg”. As she answered, he picked up some of the drinks. “You don't have to, I got it.” the girl quickly said. “It's fine we are going to the same place anyways.” It was a comfortable quiet as they walked back into the class. “Who's the girl?” Koko whispered to Inupi as he sat down. “She was placed in the same hospital room as me.” 

The first day of class ended, Koko already made his way towards the door and had some deal to complete, leaving Inupi in the classroom by himself. He slowly opened the door to see the (y/n) again. “This is where you were, I thought you left until your long haired friend told me you might’ve been here still. For helping me with the drink I wanted to give you something.” She pushed a bag of apple flavor gummies into his hand. “ I know it's not a lot but I just wanted to say thank you,” the girl blurted before running off again.

Soon after the girl slowly inserted herself into his life naturally and he couldn’t help waiting for the time he got to spend with her. He couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at her surrounded by her friends. It was like her laughter was a sound wave in which his radio was always tuned to. 

One night while walking around the city he spotted the girl walking home in the dark by herself, holding a bag of what he assumed was snacks. Scared for her safety he started following her yet too shy to say anything so the poor guy was just trailing her. After 5 minutes, he would get the scare of his life when he heard “ Inupi i know you’re there why are you following me?” the girl turned to face him.

After explaining himself the girl giggled and he couldn't help the blush that spread his cheeks not sure if he was embarrassed or happy that he had caused her to laugh. “Silly, you could have just told me.” When they reached her house she said bye to him and added “You are like my knight in shining armor, thank you”.

He didn’t want to admit it but his cheek was dusted with pink the rest of the night and they would hurt from the smile that tugged on his lips the rest of the way home.

The gods were in his favor the next day because when the bell rang the sky decided it was time to rain all the clouds dry. Luckily he bought his umbrella but (y/n) hadn’t, not wanting the girl to get sick he immediately offered to walk her home. She agreed and they started their journey leaving behind a Koko who had to find his own way home.

“ You know you should stand closer,  the rain is hitting you,” the girl pleaded. The boy felt the water wetting his left side but ignored it. “Its fine”

Once they reached the house (y/n) pushed him inside. “The rain is getting worse, just chill here so the rain can let up. My parents are on a trip so you don't need to worry and I'll get you some clothes to change into”. Inupi couldn’t answer before he was in the bathroom “Just throw your clothes outside and I’ll place dry ones in front of the door”

He changed and went towards the living room “Are you hungry?” the girl began shifting through the fridge. Before long food was made and both of them sat and ate he noticed how the girl ate a smaller portion. “ You snack a lot don't you” the boy remarked. “Yeah, how did you know?” she questioned. “Because you’re a foodie you wouldn’t pass up any food unless you're filled, so i guess you ate a bunch of snacks beforehand” He chose not reveal how he caught her eating all the ingredients beforehand as she was cooking.

After they played board games and did their homework, the girl fell asleep. Inupi placed a blanket on her and couldn’t help but admire her sleeping. He cleaned up the dishes and board games. He then organized her school work and placed them in her backpack so she wouldn't forget before making his departure.

Walking her home became a daily routine, he started to figure out what her favorite food was and what she disliked. The songs she skips and the ones she plays on repeat. What jokes made her laugh and the character she liked. Even the way her eyes closed shut when laughing and the strand of hair that always stood up no matter how hard she tried. 

He loved her but was scared. If he told her and she didn't like him that could mean losing her forever. Yet if he didn't tell her he would harbor these secrets forever surrendering the chance that she might like him back. 

“Honestly the way your moping makes me pay you to just ask her” Koko sighed fully knowing that the girl had to like his blonde friend back. Inupi rolled his eyes before saying “I gotta go drop her off at the train station”. He wanted to ask you after your three day trip to the countryside hoping the time would help him build up the courage. He believed that it was better to tell them, than to live in the complex maze of not knowing, even when he knew his heart couldn’t take the damage if you had said no.

With the train station in view Inupi gently handed her bag which he insisted on carrying all the way. Then he rummaged through his own pockets to pull out (y/n)'s  favorite apple gummies.  “Here you go for the trip, and don’t snack too much because you need to eat a full meal alright”. 

“Fine but no promises” The girl spotted her family and gave them her luggage telling them to go ahead before walking back towards the boy. “You know i know you like me, Koko told me” (y/n) spoke. Inupi's heart dropped to his stomach. “ I like you too by the way”. She lightly kissed his cheek, grinned and then ran into the train station yelling “ I’ll see you soon”

Even with the amount of time she had made him blush. She had once again decorated his cheeks with pink. He didn’t know if he wanted to kill Koko or give him everything he owned. All he knew was the girl he loved, liked him back and that was enough to make him smile for a lifetime.

Later Inupi would confront Koko and the long haired friend would only say “You didn't have the balls, consider it a favor”

[astralis01]

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Content: GN! Reader, Gojo’s Past Arc, platonic reader, best friends shenanigans, time traveller reader

WC: 3K words

Satoru closed his eyes as the sounds rang around him. It was all monotone now. People praised his skills as the first Six Eyes user in many years paired with limitless, he was going to be strongest.

He knew that. But what people didn’t understand that with such powers came the loneliness of a six-year old. The elders of his clan were scared of him, the children never came close to him. Even his own parents kept him at arms length.

No one really understood loneliness if they never experienced it before but Satoru was a master.

Joining Jujutsu High again didn’t seem like such a big deal like it was last time.

Other than the fact that you were back 10 years from when you were supposed to join but it was fine, you would figure a way back to Megumi, Nobara and Yūji again.

As you entered your classroom, the sight to three members greeted you. Gojo Satoru, your white haired, blue eyed mentor along with Doctor Ieiri and the one you had heard about from them and the second years, Getō Suguru.

Did your heart stutter your chest looking at the young faces (too young, you thought to have faced so much but weren’t all of you too young to fight things of nightmare, not knowing whether you would see the light of the next day?)

You took a seat beside Gojo Satoru and it almost seemed like you were back, except he didn’t have the bright smile that he always wore.

You missed your Gojo-sensei.

As the bell rang and Principal Masamichi, or now Yaga-sensei entered, and asked everyone to introduce themselves, never did you spot a smile on Gojo’s face and your heart hurt but you picked up a quick smile as you introduced yourself to the class. If none of them were going to smile, you would make them smile.

Break time was a messed up affair. Getō-san and Ieiri-san grouped together while you took off for Gojo.

Perhaps it was just your familiarity with him or that young Gojo-sensei looked so lonely that you instantly took up the Yūji role. You smiled and talked to him, reintroduced yourself and forced him to talk too.

You could see the dam cracking. The Gojo-sensei you knew was coming out.

The result was almost immediate. The next few periods were spent with you two talking almost as if you had known each other for a long time.

Being the strongest was a lonely spot, and you hoped you eased some bits of it.

The next few days came and went, Gojo opened up more and the happy sensei you had came back but now you had a new mission, get Ieiri-san and Getō-san to tag along.

They still seemed cautious of Gojo but they still talked and it was almost unrecognisable how much all of them had changed.

The next day, the dorm kitchen that was inhabited by Gojo and you started with breakfast making. Gojo may be the strongest but was totally hopeless in the kitchen. Usually, Getō-san and Ieiri-san came in a bit later than the two of you but today they were sitting with you two.

As they opened the pantry, you could only look in horror and both of them took out packets of instant noddles. You couldn’t let them eat that for breakfast so you snatched the packets out of their hands, asked Gojo to lead them to table and you cooked up eggs, bread and bacon.

You heard sounds of laughter echoing with the sizzling of bacon and a small smile appeared on your face.

As you took the plates over to them, you heard Gojo say, “Y/n is the best cook I’ve ever know. They have a variety to make from and nothing ever tastes bad."

Your heart swelled as you ruffled his very fluffy hair and said, “You two. Don’t you dare eat noddles in the morning."

Getō and Ieiri could only nod as they saw the revered god (teenager, your mind supplied) of jujutsu world shovel down apparently ‘the best food in the whole wide universe.’ You sat down to see their expressions as they ate the food. Their eyes widened minutely as they put the food in their mouth as fast they could.

Though you had doomed yourself to be their eternal cook, you supposed it was fine if you could see all of them this happy.

It was easy from there. Suguru and Satoru fought often but teamed up even more, Shoko took to reversed cursed technique like a fish in water and you kept on practicing yours own.

You started being joined by Suguru in your morning runs around the school who claimed that he needed the stamina to ‘beat up that idiot’. Soon after that, Satoru joined you two and Shoko ran with you as well.

You started enjoying your life here but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss your own before all of this.

There were nights where you were haunted by memories, too scared by the nightmares that would plague or the worries that over spilled. Or the days where you felt too tired to feel anything but the bone deep sadness that was engraved in your bones.

Some days were so bad that you could barely see Satoru, Suguru and Shoko without seeing your friends and those days hurt the most.

The sleepless nights were often accompanied by either Satoru or Suguru, sometimes both as you rewatched the Ghibli movies for the nth time with noddles in your hands and none of them ever asked but you were thankful for their company. It would hurt less when they were around.

Suguru was kinder than most. He offered you words of comforts on the days where even getting out of your bed seemed like a task and you wondered how this wonderful, kind boy became what the horror stories that Yūta, Maki, Toge and Panda told you about.

The days were filled with Shoko distracting you and the two of them showing their concerns in the most bird-like fashion you had ever seen.

It was fine. You would survive and go back to them.

First year came and went, and your second year started within the blink of an eye introducing Nanami and Haibara to you.

You giggled uncontrollably as you saw Nanami but tried to school your expression into somewhat of a polite look so that you could greet them properly, hoping none of your friends has seen that.

But they had and you could see that in their smirks. Bastards (affectionately).

You wondered at the back of your head how Yūji would react when he saw his idol in such a phase. He would surely greet Nanami more enthusiastically than ever before and wasn’t Haibara doing all that already.

Well, all introverts needed and extroverted friend as you saw the scene in front of you. Satoru and Haibara forcefully putting party hats on Suguru and Nanami respectively while Shoko unenthusiastically blew the party popper.

You loved it here.

Another development that came with second year was Suguru and Satoru. Though they tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, you could see how they chased after each other, eyes locked with each other, Satoru ‘We are the strongest’ and how they looked at each other.

You were happy and most of all, Satoru smiled a lot more freely and there was a light in his eyes that was lost during his time.

So you kept quiet between the two of them as soon you gravitated towards Shoko, leaving them to their own devices, promising yourself that you would keep this joy, no matter what the cost was.

As your year progressed, you got sent to more missions but perhaps the most interesting was the one where you were assigned to eliminate curses at a graveyard. No matter how much of a façade Satoru and Suguru put up in front of everyone, you knew that they were afraid of ghosts and all.

Clearly evident from your late night movie sessions. You loved them, truly, but you loved messing with them even more. You took an undying joy in messing with all of them so as soon as you entered the graveyard, you took a page out of Toge-senpai’s book and started.

“Ikura?"

Satoru and Suguru turned towards you in horror and said, “What the fuck?"

“Tuna mayo"

Satoru eyes widened and he shook you by your shoulders and asked, “What happened to you? Tell me. We are the strongest,” pointing towards Suguru and himself, “We’ll deal with it."

“Shake, shake,” you said, continuing to find pleasure in their pain as Suguru and Satoru panicked and tried calling Shoko but sadly, it was out of their network coverage.

Your fun lasted till the curse appeared but not before they reached their hysterical levels.

Due to your versatile technique, you often tagged along with both your friends and Nanami and Haibara so it was no wonder when you got assigned to protect Riko Amanai, the star plasma vessel.

She was a sweet girl. Truly and even more better when she dissed Satoru and Suguru.

But the thing was, you knew where this would end.

As you boarded the flight for Okinawa to forced Satoru to sleep, reassuring that you and Suguru would look after them.

Satoru needed to sleep to fight what came after their trip. The sorcerer killer was behind your tails and you knew what you had to do to stop him.

You weren’t the strongest. Not like Satoru and Suguru. You were just you and you could not fight Toji Fushiguro one-on-one.

You kept the two of them well rested, forcing to sleep and going through the trouble of keeping yourself awake, all so that Riko-san won’t die.

As soon as you landed back in Tokyo, Toji stopped you so you sent off Suguru and Riko and Kuroi-san away and told them to use the rainbow dragon.

You held his hands tightly, and pleaded with him to deal with the taste (Yūji told you it tasted like vomit, Suguru told you it tasted like a vomit cleaning rag) for you. As they begged you to come along with them, you stood your ground and said, “Satoru may be the strongest, but even the hero needs a supporting cast."

You fought for your life, using all the techniques and trainings you had from both your lives but exhaustion ran its course faster as you gave the upper hand to Toji and the last thing you heard before you choked out blood and your vision blackened was a shout of your name.

Maybe you could rest now.

The next time you properly woke up, your heart swelled at the sight around.

Shoko cleaned her medical instruments as she hummed, Satoru and Suguru seemingly had opted to falling asleep holding each other but most all,

Riko Amanai was alive.

You looked at your hands and when you noticed that there was. no IV drips attached you tried getting down from the bed but stumbled which alerted the surrounding members.

Shoko slapped you on your head. Suguru and Satoru held onto you as tightly as you could and even after Suguru let go, Satoru held on. You felt wetness in your shirt but you kept quiet.

They would be fine. You would be okay.

“Are the two of you just adopting children now?"

Your eyes widened as you took the sight in front of you.

Nanako and Mimiko, two girls that Suguru brought back from a mission were absolute sweethearts.

As you turned over towards Satoru’s side, a pain shot through your heart. Megumi Fushiguro looked up to you, holding tight onto the hands of a girl who you could only assume as Tsumiki. Your voice choked seeing him and you wondered, what about you. Was younger you still there, somewhere present?

“Hah, I guess," Suguru rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment, Satoru looking away while trying to sneak off. “You're not going anywhere." You grab his shirt and pull him close to you.

“They didn't have any family, and were being treated terribly. C'mon," Suguru pleads his case, the two girls hiding timidly behind him.

You look over at the two. (They couldn't be more than 10) You think to yourself. You sigh. “Fine, don't blame me when Yaga has questions," you shrug. “Never thought i would he a teen parent, but here I am."

Suguru smiles and urges to kids to walk with him and you. “ ‘Toru, when I said I’m becoming a teen parent, it is also to the two of your children."

(Megumi was your best friend, your mind supplied. He wasn’t your child. You weren’t supposed to be here.)

You stop and turn around to Suguru. He watches you bend down to be on the level of the children, a soft smile is presented on your face.

“When was the last time you've eaten?" You softly ask them. You visibly pause at the answer, wondering who could disregard four little children so much.

A sigh leaves your lips as you stand up. rolling your sleeves up, you smile at them, your eyes crescents, “Seems like I'll have to cook tonight."

“Ooooooh could you make—!" Satoru attempts to speak, his mouth watering at the sound of you cooking, knowing how good your food can be. However, he's interrupted by your finger pressing against his lips. “Its not for you, Satoru Gojo. You'll get my cooking later, but not right now," you explain.

Satoru loudly groans and sports a pout as he walks with you.

“Tsumiki, would you mind sharing a pair of shorts or pajamas with Nanako and Mimiko for the night? I'll shop tomorrow for some clothes, again,” you said. Tsumiki nods happily. "kay!" she gets down from her seat and the other kids follow her.

You turn towards Megumi who is left behind, you get down to his level, hold his little hands and said, “I think I might have some clothes that shrunk. You can have those."

His innocent little eyes shone, a small smile lighting his face and your heart hurt.

(You missed your Megumi. You missed your Nobara. You missed your Yūji.)

(You loved them and they would never know.)

The next mission you go, it was with Nanami and Yū.

It was a close call no wonder, with Yū almost losing his life but you were faster than the curse, quickly demolishing it before it could take a full life away from him.

Nanami gratefully looked at you as the three of you trudged home after the mission, not before you packed some sweets for Satoru and Suguru.

You saved them. You kept your promise.

Nobody predicted the day you died. It started out sunny and you babysitting Nanako, Mimiko, Tsumiki and Megumi who had a holiday from school.

You made food for everyone as you do every morning and then reported to class where you were assigned to a mission with Shoko.

Missions with Shoko were fun and often rare. Due to her Reversed Curse Technique, she was kept in school while others went away but there were times where she was required on field.

It was a normal mission until the Special Grades appeared. You had never seen such monstrous curses before and you took one look at its hostages and Shoko and you knew what to do.

You fought as fiercely as you could, defeating them and protecting the people around them but you failed to save yourself as you suffered a lethal injury.

You stumbled over to Shoko, wanting to spend your last few minutes alive with aa person you knew and loved. As she saw you, tears streamed down her face and you wiped it off as much as you could.

The both of you knew it was too late to save you and you were destined to die.

(No, you had been destined to die a long time back, when you time travelled. You had been living on borrowed time)

She held your hands and you said, “Could you rummage through my pockets and find two pictures for me."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak without bursting into tears. As she found the pictures and handed them to you, you smiled at the last sight of your this life and your previous one and said, “Hey Shoko, you’re my one and only so let’s meet in the next lifetime, promise?"

You closed your eyes for the final time, even before you could hear her answer.

It rained heavily that day. It seemed as the skies itself mourned the lost of such a precious person.

(You smiled even as you laid dying as you saw your loved ones, albeit in a picture for the last time.)

(You loved them, but they would never know)

Your funeral was held in a grand manner. After all, you have loved so freely, affecting and changing everyone’s life as you passed.

Satoru and Suguru held their kids as they mourned the loss of a parent agin, but this time they actually cared.

Satoru schooled his expression but everyone could see the hatred that he aimed at the elders for assigning you that mission. But all he could feel was empty because you were the first one to accept him as Satoru Gojo, a kid.

Shoko cried and cried, tears not stopping as Utahime tried to comfort her as much sash could but no one could really understand the pain a doctor felt for someone to pass away by their own hands.

Suguru felt anger but he could only think of how you would scold him for that. It was never your fault. You loved as you lived. You laughed as you enjoyed. You were a simple person.

(Love is perhaps the most twisted curse of them all.)

Suguru finds you again in a young child that comes to get into Jujutsu Tech.

The child looked just like you from head to toe and it didn’t’t take even a moment’s hesitation to admit you in.

He calls Satoru and Shoko to see you and they too are surprised. He sees the tears welling up on Shoko’s face as she says, “They told me that they hoped to meet us in another lifetime."

You hated child soldiers with a passion, righteous down to the deepest bone and Suguru’s mind screamed at him, telling him it was you.

(Only you gave your love this freely.)

Satoru held his hands and said, “We’ve been given a chance to do better, to save them ‘cause we couldn’t previously. We’ll do it better this time."

Yes they would as they watched you talk to Megumi as easy as it goes.

(You were back. They missed you and you missed them but you were back and they would promise to tell you that they loved you for you told them far too many times)

(You loved them and they loved you back)

[mental-breaker-74]

Imagine: Relationship with Suguru Geto x y/n before dating (Young!Geto – school era Geto) part 1

First time meeting Geto and how Geto falls in love with you

(the second part is out)

Pairing: Suguru Geto x y/n (you)

Genre: fluff, romance

* y/c – your country name

* you are the same age as Geto, Gojo and Shoko

A/N: Hi! This my first time ever writing an imagine in english. I’m also pretty new fan of JJK. Guys, have a wonderful day and even if not perfect I hope your are going to like (even if just a little) this piece! I would love to know your opinion! I’m in the middle of writing the second part - dating! 

- you become student in the first half of the second year. Transferred from other school from (y/c/n)

- getting classes one-on-one at the beginning to easy you to the rules, new school, new people, new teachers and new work ethic

- the real reason behind that? You are a very powerful sorcerer, and they want to ‘’study” closer your power and potential

- it’s true, with your Domain Expansion which is based on the Power of Omnipresence and reality manipulation they believe you can go against one of the most powerful ones (and if needed, the not so obedient ones – looking at Gojo) – of course no one says that out loud

- you are Special Grade Sorcerer

- First time Geto sees you, you are strolling casually through school grounds while listening to music

- from this day on he is going to look for you in the halls, in the crowds… even when he is sitting in the classroom and looking outside the window – with hope to get at least a glimpse of you

- doesn’t speak with Gojo about his attraction to you, but his friend catches on it either way

- like come on, it’s Gojo and thou Geto think he is sneeke about stealing glances at you (the moment you enter his field of view his attention span gets close to 0, and there is just you, your pretty hair, eyes, skin… the list goes on) – he is not as subtle as he thinks he is

- Gojo never asks about it directly, because it’s kind of obvious (low-key bumped because he finds you also attractive, but Geto is his friend and he can’t do that to him, not when Geto looks at you like that – soo intense)

- the first time you are formally introduced to the trio, they are captivated by you instantly – you are just a wonderful person

- you, your partner (with which you usually go on missions with) and the trio, goes to the city to eliminate some curses (by the weeks their numbers have been going up)

- all of you decided to take different parts of the area and meet later in the same place after the work is done

- you finish a little faster than the others thanks to the form of your abilities, and come back to the meeting place

- even tho you are waiting just about 10 minutes, you have already gained attention of few guys who are searching for new models

- you are in the middle of the texting with your partner, when one of them approaches you and starts asking you personal questions, while trying to get you to come with him

- you are politely trying to decline, but the guy is persistent

- and then… there comes your knight in shining armor (some badass flip-flops and baggy pants)

- Geto comes from behind, sneaking his arm around your middle, firmly grasping your hip (the feel of security washes over you in that very moment)

 - ,,There you are princess” – He says and looks at the guy. „Is there a problem?” – He asks with a smile but you can hear the warning below the surface of each word

- the guy stutters, hurriedly apologize and leaves

- such a relief! You don’t like confrontations and Geto showed up just at the right time

- as a thank you, you offer him a coffee before the others show up

- he takes the offer but ends up paying for both of your coffees either way: „ Because you deserve it”

- after that, open about his advances and flirting, even if, once again, no one says it out loud –  he know he likes you, you know he likes you, gojo, shoko everybody who looks at him or have seen the interactions between you two – knows it too

- if you ask, he will probably say „yes, i like you / yes, i like y/n” and keep on treating you the same way

- gentleman, protective, very patient – will wait for you to make it official but treats you already as his

- has that calming and chill aura, it’s easy to relax in his presence

- the same goes for you, you just make all his worries and problems go away

- you ground him, you are his anchor

- easy to talk to

- slight touches, just to feel you but not to makes you uncomfortable – the contact will increase with time

- loves spending time with you – watching movies together in his bed, snacking and napping; going shopping for new clothes, books, CDs/vinyls; getting coffee and some good food; staying in silence and enjoying each other presence while looking at people and taking in everything that surrounds you both

- you guys understand each other without words, one look is all you guys needs to know what the other person feels

- trust, trust, trust

- Geto is a perfect gentleman, but boyyyy he can be a little possessive. He doesn’t like to share – and if Gojo hands linger on your body a little too long? If you make plans with Gojo but without him? The glare Suguru sends in Satoru direction makes his skin crawl. Because Geto knows. Gojo likes you too, and if it wasn’t for Geto he would definitely make a move.

- He is a gentleman but… honestly he can’t stop thinking about you:

How is to hold you? Feels your warmth seeping into his body, his bones and reaching deeply within him – he could spend days just laying with you in his bed, with the weight of your head on his chest.

How is to kiss you?

How is to have you in the most intimate ways?

- thinks… no, he knows you are the most gorgeous, the most beautiful person, the most beautiful thing, the most beautiful view in the world to ever exist – nothing can’t even compare or come close to you.

- the most amazing part of your love (yes, you love each other deeply) is that before everything you guys are friends

[paigeishere]

Projects

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings- Swear words, Some guys make suggestive comments towards reader and I think that’s it.

This came for a tik tok i randomly found from starktower.

Overview- Today was the 21st of November and of course at the ripe time of 7:37 it gets announced there is a project worth 20% of your grade. However you were oblivious to this considering it was only 7:26 and you were hanging with your quite large group of friends.

——————————————————————————

Hey I’m gonna throw this stuff in my locker you tell Lucy who was the closest to you. She nodded and you were able to head to your locker but not before Mikey came up to cling to you like water to a sponge.

Heyyy leaving so soon? I was just getting started.

Was just putting my stuff away. We start class in like 10 minutes.

Aww that soon I thought I was able to hang out with you more. He pushed his lower lip out to form a pout that made you cringe into your self. You finally get to your locker and shove in your stuff while Mikey talks your ear off for the entire 10 minutes you had before class.

Um I have to get to class. Soo I’ll see you around. You interrupt him waving a hand while walking in the other direction.

When you enter the classroom with a few minutes to spare you see a group of your friends talking in the back corner. Deciding to join them you set your stuff down and walk over to them.

Can you believe it. I mean this teacher is such a bitch I’m honestly not even surprised. One your your friends say.

Wait what’s happening? Why are we calling mrs. Warren a bitch? You ask confused.

Cause she is assigned projects worth 20% of our grade and won’t let us choose our partners. Lucy informs you. Damn it if she puts me with someone who doesn’t do anything I swear I’m going’s scream. It’s then that the bell rings and everyone comes  piling into classing into their seats.

Scanning the room you look at the people who you could potentially be partners with. Most of the people would be fine but then there are a couple who you would hate to be with and that list includes: Daniel- all he does is stare at boobs all day don’t even ask how he got into high school, Marcus- the schools “bad boy” when in reality he is just some guy with mommy issues, Flash- an inconsiderate jerk who gets off on being mean to everyone, Megan- who only personality trait is that she’s dating the captain of the football team and last but not least, Henry- your ex boyfriend.

Alright everyone settle down as some of you know we are have a project it’s worth 20% of your final grade you have 2 weeks to finish this. I will be picking your partners and then will hand out a paper with everything you need to know about the project on it. You may not be able to finish it in class so I recommend planning on getting together with your partner to plan how your going to meet up to finish it. If you have any further questions ask now or raise your hand and I will be coming around to answer them later. No questions ok I’ll start assigning partners. Blake and Shelby Marcus and Carter Zoie and Bailey Y/n and Peter Lucy an….

At this you stoped paying attention and started looking around the room for the Peter you assumed she was talking about. Peter Parker. When you finally spotted him you saw he was already looking at you. When you really look at him he’s actually really cute not like the in your face kinda way but in the subtlety of when you really look at him you can’t look away. You never really talked to Peter himself but you are friends with his best friend Ned but he seems like he’s a good person and smart knowing that he’s on the school Decathlon team. You get knocked out of your thought by someone yelling something

Aw come on Mrs. Warren why do I have to be with her. She’s stupid I can’t hang out with stupid people. This came from David Caskey probably the most stupid person you’ve ever met. As you about to tell to shut his mouth Mrs. Warren sent him to the office.

Ok get into groups I want to see ideas I want to see plans. Go disperse.

As you got up to go sit next to Peter you bumped right into what you could describe as your worst nightmare came true your ex Henry.

Bet you wish you were my partner. Huh Y/n.

You wish jackass. As you try to get past him he moves so he’s in your way again.

Come on baby you know you want me back. They all do it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Get out of my way Henry I’m to tired to deal with your stupidity today. Finally successful in moving past him you take you place next to Peter. Sorry bout that. He can get really annoying.

No you’re good. There was silence for a few moments before Peter grabs the paper and starts discussing how we’ll get through it. After about an hour of work you talk about how to do work outside of class.

Well I personally like getting it done as fast as possible so maybe we could have free time in class that would mean we would have to either sit together at lunch or go to each others places after school. You look up at him to see him staring very intensely at the paper in front of him.

Yeah that sounds fine I can do either. You notice that he does this a lot. Giving short almost indecisive answers to all of your statements.

Hey are you alr..

Penis Parker! How’s it feel to be partners with the hottest babe in school? Hey little mama if you wanna trade partners I would be down just call me and you can come over to my place to “work”. The last part you directed at you and made your skin crawl.

I’m good. You reply kertly.

Your telling me you’d rather be with the loser Penis Parker than me?

Come on Flash just leave her alone she has no part in this.

Shut up Parker. I wasn’t talking to you.

Hey watch your mouth Flash don’t be such an ass. 

HEY separate now flash other side of the room.

Flash stares as the two of you as he walks away and you notice how quite the room has gone. The only noise was Flash pulling out his chair to sit down in to be heard. Eventually mummers made way the chatter and finally to regular talking.

I’m sorry about him.

You’re good hand me your phone. He grabs it out of his pocket and hands it to you but as you grab it your fingers brush past each other’s he quickly recoiles his hand and you ignore it and the slight pang in your chest handing his phone back to him. I just put in my number are you free tonight?

Yeah yeah I am totally free. He gives you a smile and it warms your face to a shade of pink.

Okay great text me where you live I’ll be there at 6. The bell rings and you start the pick up your stuff.

6 okay I’m see you there. Peter calls after you who was already half way out the door.

He didn’t live very far from your apartment about a 20 minute walk so when 5:32 hit the clock you hit the road the go to peters. You were able to make it there at 6:56. You knocked on the door and heard the small Yelp and someone yell for Peter. A kind lady with wired glasses opened the door.

You must be Y/n I’ve heard so much.

Mayyy stop it. Let her it. It sounded like Peter and you were proven correct when May opened the door to reveal a Peter with a slight pink to his cheeks.

Hi it’s nice to meet you. You hold out a hand for may to shake but she turns you down a gives you a hug instead. You were never a real big hugger but something about this hug made you want to be a hugger it felt so safe. However it was cut short by her letting go of you and pushing you towards Peter.

Now go work you two I don’t want any slacking.

You snicker and let Peter lead you into his room. She seems nice. You tell Peter.

Yeah sorry if your not much of a hugger she loves them.

No it’s okay I don’t normally give hugs but hers were nice.

You both enter his room and you see it’s pretty standard. Though it looks like he was rushing to clean it do to the trash and laundry basket being full and the bed is messily made. But it was cute. You took a seat on the bed and he took one in the desk chair. There was an awkward silence before you reached into your bag to grab your laptop to open up your slide show.

After about an hour of doing work and only talking to get each other’s opinion on a slide you both decided to take a break.

I really am sorry about Flash and everything.

It’s not your fault and you shouldn’t apologize for his gross actions.

Yeah I know but I still feel bad.

You really got to stand up for yourself. Flash is just a scared little boy who craves his mother’s attention. He laughs at this. It’s true. You know I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff. Then on one would give you a hard time. You almost smack your self. How could you say that so nonchalantly god shut your mouth.

You’d do that for me? Peter says surprising me.

Sure you’d keep the creepy guys away from me.

I’d love to be your fake boyfriend Y/n.

AN- Like it if you want a part two. If this does well I’ll make a part two or if I want to the I will but who knows. Have a nice day or night.

[mxdarling]

[“You’re so pretty when you smile.”]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: some students couldn't accept you enter this college with no magic, luckily deuce is there to your rescue!

ೃ⁀➷: Word count: 884

ೃ⁀➷: Reference/Inspiration: N/A

ೃ⁀➷: Event: [200 followers event]

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[Warnings:] bad oneshot, lowercase, maybe occ deuce, slight spoilers for prologue, yandere behavior, implied insomnia, violence, mentions of blood, bullying, mentions of deuce's delinquent era, overprotective behavior, implied burnt out, slightly naive reader, people pleaser/'yes' man reader, not-so-strong reader.

[GN reader.]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Deuce spade;

it wasn't easy being a magicless student in a magic revolved college, hell it wasn't easy being in a unknown world! you're practicably a stranger here in twisted wonderland. luckily for you, your (best) friend, DEUCE SPADE is there to back you up. sure your first meeting of each other wasn't exactly the best. considering you've only met each other due to ace being a coward and running away from his supposed punishment but you aren't ungrateful for it. that said interaction lead to you guys being the bestest of friends. you wouldn't have it any other way really.

today hasn't been that great for you. first, you woke up slightly later than usual, insisting to snooze in just for 5 minutes, turned into 10 minutes, turned into rushing out your dorm and just spriting to the school grounds. barely even made it to class, you probably looked like a mess when entering the classroom but you were simply too tired to care. dragging your tired self to your assigned seat, placing your head on the table, putting a random book in front of you. hoping your professor wouldn't be notice you sleeping in class. not that it matters anyways you couldn't sleep. the words of your professor went from one ear to the other. wait, did he say there's gonna be a quiz next week? oh god... you're gonna fail his class for sure..

the rest of today felt like a blur, you couldn't remember much of what happened. honestly it just felt like a repeat of yesterday and the day before yesterday. it was just another uneventful week day. was. you don't think you could call it uneventful after that.

you can't really recall how these incidents follow up to the situation you're in. some students in night raven college were still, precisely speaking, 'pissy' about your whole arrival to school. you know you can't help what other people think about, its something out of your control, you know that. yet you can't help but try to change their views on you. most of your efforts end in failure, sadly. but you refuse to give up, not yet at least!

the whole reason why you try to help anyone who needs it. sometimes borderlining doing everything to help this said person. it's unhealthy, your friends have told you countless of times, but bad habits die hard and you're still adjusting to this new world. surely nothing too bad would happened because of this, right....?

apparently, that was very much wrong. you curse your impulsivity for saying 'yes' with little hesitation in wanting to help your classmate with their homework. they asked you so nicely too, unlike some other students who just demand you to do it for them. you were a fool, truly. you didn't think it was a trap to get your alone and cornered at a place where no one really checks very often. you're backed against a wall with no other exists except the one that is being blocked by your classmate.

you stood no chance against them, it was clear as day. you weren't exactly physically strong nor do you have any experience of being a fight before. you shakingly put your arms in front of your face, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for heavy impact yet nothing came. in fact something touched your cheek instead. you slowly put down your arms and open your eyes to a scene you wish you didn't seen.

the classmate of yours all bloody up on the ground, you can even tell it's them anymore. then there's deuce, his right fist all bloody up, you would've assume he got injured haven't it been for your injured classmate on the ground. since when did he get here..? and how did he know you were here in the first place!? you were about to speak up but deuce beat you to it.

'prefect..? a-are you okay?? they didn't hurt you right!?'

he rushed to you with a concern look on his face. despite the violent responses he gave to your classmate, he was very gentle with you. poorly attempting to wipe off the blood from his hand on his uniform to avoid putting blood on you. he puts both his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down to check if you had any injuries. not that you would have considering he had beaten the person before they took action but you can never be too careful, i guess. he, again, broke the silence once more to speak.

'w-why are you crying, prefect..? d-did something happened while i wasn't here..?'

you didn't even noticed tears were falling down, you tried to wipe them away but they just kept coming back. you knew deuce wouldn't hurt you, you were his friend since the start of first year. yet you can't help but let fear overtake you. you gently try to push him away from you but he wouldn't budge. instead he cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, wiping the tears that are falling down as a way to try and comfort you when really you don't want that comfort from him.

"i really can’t take it when you cry like that… smile for me, alright? you’re so pretty when you smile.."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[a/n; how do people write oneshots so good, i'm out here crying my eyes out on how do i make this look good😭😭. rushed ending? yes and i deeply apologize for it. my brain juice is definitely gonna run out istg. enough about me complaining, thank you anon for requesting deuce with #7 for the 200 followers event! it's been a while since i've written deuce before so this is kind of a refresher for me lol. sorry again this took awhile exams were taking place and i get real tired after answering them. good thing summer break is coming so more free time for me to write your guy's requests!]

[hazelroses1]

Hitoshi Finds Katsuki's Sex Toy Remote Much to His and Eijirou's Shock and Enjoyment

CW: public play, toy play, mild degradation

Hitoshi overhears Katsuki’s and Eijirou’s conversation through the U.A.’s thin walls that Katsuki wants to wear a vibrating butt plug to class tomorrow. Interesting. Eijirou having the remote’s string hanging out of his bag is even better. It’s almost as good as watching them whisper frantically in the halls between classes, most likely scared of where the remote ended up.

Hitoshi peeks around the corner, turning on the vibrator to see Katsuki’s knees buckle and a hand fly to the lockers to steady himself. He ups the intensity, puts the remote in his jacket pocket, and strides over. He’s turned it on and off for /hours/, poor Katsuki.

“You don’t look well,” Hitoshi comments with a grin.

“Fuck off!” Katsuki tries to yell, but his words come out breathy.

“H-he’s fine!” Eijirou squeaks. He claps Katsuki on the shoulder awkwardly. “Just ate something bad for breakfast!”

Hitoshi cocks his head to the side. “Are you sure it’s not something else?”

He increases the vibrations and watches with amusement when Katsuki moans, his eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s an odd response to an upset stomach,” Hitoshi says while heading into their history class.

He pauses at the door and smirks at them. “Maybe he just needs to cum, and he’ll feel better.”

They give him a deer-in-headlights look before Hitoshi enters the classroom with his shoulders rolled back. To his surprise, they don’t ask for the remote control. In fact, Katsuki texts him a few minutes after they take their seats.

[From: Feral Cat 10:34 A.M.] I’m gonna fucking cream my jeans if you don’t turn this shit off asshole

Hitoshi looks over at him, resting his elbow on his desk and placing his chin in the palm of one hand. His other hand still grips the item, giving him complete control over one of the most volatile people he’s ever met. It’s an intoxicating feeling.

[To: Feral Cat 10:35 A.M.] Good. I want you to ruin your clothes. What kind of slut puts a vibrating butt plug in before class? Guess you’re just a needy little bitch

Katsuki bites his lip, squirming in his chair. Oh, did he like that? They’ll have to explore it later. Hitoshi gets up and walks down the aisle to Eijirou’s desk. He discreetly places the remote into Eijirou’s pants pocket and pats it.

“You lost something,” he whispers to him. “I’d love to find it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Eijirou says, not at all phased by Hitoshi’s nearness.

“Think we’d like that.” Hitoshi cups the back of Eijirou’s neck and murmurs in his ear. “Make our little slut cum.”

Eijirou grins and shifts a hand into his pocket. A second later, Katsuki lets out a soft, garbled cry and grips his seat to lift himself up. His breath is ragged, and his collar is noticeably wet with sweat. Hitoshi’s cock is achingly hard, so he sits down, hoping no one sees. Katsuki grabs his backpack from the floor and places it over his lap. His face is flushed, his neck and ears bright red. Hitoshi knew he came in his clothes, and fuck, that has him aching harder imagining the wet spot on the front of Katsuki’s pants. His gaze flickers over to Eijirou, who gives him a wink. What an excellent way to start his Monday. Hitoshi wants more Mondays to turn out like this.

[sukieros]

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

Heeseung × Reader

SYNOPSIS: You randomly met a stranger in the library and shared moments with him even for a short time.

The water falling in drops condensed from vapor in the atmosphere — or the rain, became stronger as the day peeks through the gray and dim cloudy sky.

While the rain were busy pouring, you on the other hand were rushing to fix your school bag because you're running late for your classes this day.

The weather's getting heavier and you, together with your classmates are expecting for the classes to be cancelled for today because of the bad weather. But guess what? You're adviser said that you should wait for further announcements of the school admin.

It's 7:07 AM now! 7:20 AM will be your estimated time to attend the flag ceremony but where's the fucking announcement!

Shit. You muttered to yourself as you walked out from your room.

“Honey, you should eat breakfast first.” Your mom said but you scoffed it off, feeling guilty later for dodging her kindness.

“You're always like that whenever you're rushing to school! Why don't you wake up earlier!?” She asked you madly for your stubbornness.

“I'm late.” That's what all you've said before you went off from your house.

As you walked through the wet streets of the place where you grew up, you felt the cold wind kiss your bare skin on your neck. “Fuck I should've brought my hoodie.” You said as you hugged yourself under the white clear umbrella your father gifted you before he passed away.

When you were little, everytime it's raining, your dad will walk you with the umbrella you're holding right now. You smiled softly as you recalled those happy memories.

After walking for 10 minutes from your house to your school, you've finally arrived. You walked with your umbrella but you wondered, where are the other students?

You sighed as you took the phone out of your denim pants' back pocket. You scrolled through your chats only to see what your adviser said to your gc.

Ms. Huh: There will be no classes for today due to bad weather. Activities left for this day shall be moved on Monday.

Sent 07:28 AM

Your faced crumpled when you saw the message. Great! Now you're here at school! All alone!

“I should have stayed at home, all I should be doing now is sleep but guess what!?! I'M HERE ALL ALONE IN THIS FUCKING INSTITUTE! GREAT! JUST GREAT!” You screamed around the open area of the campus.

You huffed on your breath but it stopped when you saw a figure of a male student walking on the open hallway not far from you. He's heading to the school library, you said to yourself because that place was your favorite one to visit.

You smiled to yourself as you went inside the building and went to the school library too. The empty classroom creeps you out and it reminds you of any zombie series.

When you entered the library, there's no one inside. “Weird.” You said.

“Weird what?” A male voice from behind you spoke making you jump and scream from where you're standing right now and fall on tiled floors of the library.

You slowly looked up at the guy who spoke and it's him, the guy you saw earlier. “What are you doing here?” He asked. “I should be asking you that.” You said as you stood up.

You looked at his face again. You have never seen someone this handsome before. His perfume even smells good as they're dancing under your nostrils.

“I'm here to read.” He reasoned and walked pass by you. You trailed behind him. “How come I've never seen you before?” You asked him. “Well, I don't like being in public.” He replied but it sounded like a lie. “Are you a spy?” You asked making him snort and laugh of how cute you are.

He on the other hand were surprised to see you inside the library. He knew you, your entire life he knows you. You're adorable as you asked him questions like a toddler and following him around his steps like a puppy.

“If I'm a spy, I should have taken down a lot of people in this school. But guess what? I'm not.” He answered.

“I'm Heeseung.” He suddenly introduced himself. “Oh, Lee Heeseung? The one they're talking about how great you are!” You said as his name ringed a bell.

He nodded, looking at you and smiling softly. His bambi eyes looking at you and you noticed, there's no any emotion flashing in his eyes.

You both sat on the floor as you talked about a lot of things. You both read a lot of books, lay down a cozy mat on the floor and even play board games.

He looked at you without you noticing. A smile crept on his lips because you're different from what he knew before.

“So, I have a brother and a dad but they died.” You said as you told him things. “How did they die?” He curiously asked. “Hmmmm, i dont know what happened to my brother because I was still a toddler that time. I can't particularly remember but he always gives me good jelly beans!” You bragged about how good your brother is.

“He must be a good brother.” He told you and you nodded in agreement. Thinking of those blurred memories makes you wanna cry. “No matter the situation became, I'm an adopted daughter of that family yet they loved me dearly.” You told him as he listened to you.

“Dad died because of a car accident.” You answered his previous question while ago. “Although, mom never told me what really happened, I just accepted it. I can't do anything. I'm no goddess to bring back the dead to life.” You muttered but he disgarees.

You brought me to life. He said to himself.

You smiled at him, “Sorry, I'm being a sad girl here.” You said in embarrassment as you wip those forming tears from your eyes to prevent them from falling because you felt pathetic.

“That's okay, Lee Y/N.” He said and held your cheeks. “Your hands are cold.” You mumbled but he never said anything, instead, he hugged your small figure. “Everything will be okay.” He reassured.

You never realize what time is it now yet you wan to hug him forever and you dont know why.

After a long hugging, he slowly break away from the embrace. You suddenly yawned because of how the weather keeps getting colder and colder.

“You sleepy?” He asked with a soft tone and you nodded with a small “Hmm..” as your eyelids are slowly closing. “You should sleep.” He told you, “I'll wake you up later.” He added.

You trust Heeseung and you never know the reason why yet you want to sleep and you know you'll be safe around him. So you did as what he told you. You closed your eyes and sleep deeply.

Watching your sleeping figure, he smiled softly. He held you again after years but he felt guilty because this is the only time.

“She must be here!” A familiar voice said.

“Are you sure ma'am?” Another voice appeared.

“It's night time and she only gone to school!”

“Okay ma'am, don't need to panic.”

“Fuck! Why is she laying on the floor!!!”

“Y/N! Y/N!”

“Y/N!” You jumped from your bed when a woman voice called your name. You're chasing your breath as you looked around your surroundings only to find your mom sitting beside your hospital bed.

Bed. You're on a hospital bed. YOU'RE IN HOSPITAL????

“Doc! She's awake!” Your mom said calling for the doctor. A man in a white coat entered your room and came to you while he checked your heart beat through his cold stethoscope. “Judging by the way how your heart palpitates, you woke up from a nightmare and your brain reacted causing for you to wake up.” He said calmly.

“Her blood test is clear, her fluids are okay, everything's okay and there's nothing wrong.” He said and looked at you. “Miss, can you tell me what happened in the library? Why were you laying on the floor?” He asked.

Sudden memories clouded your mind and he popped up in it. “I-i was with a friend.” You answered.

“According to your school administration, there are no classes that day for all grade levels due to the bad weather. According to your mom you never ate that day but I think there's another reason why you fainted.” He told you.

“I-i didn't faint.” You said. “You, fainted. The school guard said that you're not breathing and you're lying there helplessly.” You're speechless.

Wtf is happening!?!?

“Now tell me, miss lee y/n, who's that friend and what's their gender? And what did you both do in the library?” He asked.

“You weren't drugged either. No signs of semen in you genitalia. You're not raped.” He added. There were silence in the atmosphere.

You took a deep breath and decided to break the ice by saying, “He's Lee Heeseung and he's a male. We talked a lot of things. And I was sleepy and he let me sleep. And I woke up. I'm here...”

You looked at the doctor's reaction and he paled. You looked at your mom and she paled too. “W-what's wrong?” You asked. “Miss, tell us the truth.” The doctor said, not believing what you told him.

“I swear I'm not lying! Heeseung listened to everything what I've felt about my life! He's the talk of the school! And he's a good person!” You fought back. The doctor looked down. “He is a good person.” He suddenly blurted out and looked at you with sad emotions.

“But you never know?” He asked. “W-what do you mean doc?” You never know why you're getting worried. Your heart were hammering crazily. “He's dead. Years ago, Y/N. He's my best friend back then.”

You shook your head as you laughed nervously. What a nice April Fool's Joke.

You realized it's January and they're not laughing either. Everything was silent, except the machines in your room, ringing and buzzing.

“Y-you're lying.” You said. How was he dead!? You were literally talking to him while ago!!

“He's your brother. You were a toddler when he died and we were in our highschool days. Y/N, i won't lie. I know him too well.”

He knows that it is very unprofessional for him to be engaged in a patient's personal life now but he can't help it because it is Lee Heeseung you are talking about.

You shook your head and looked at your mom. “Mom, tell me. Tell me this isn't real.” You said as you started to tear up. You were looking for your brother for years, wondering where he went and you accepted the truth that he died. But knowing that the stranger who listened to you in the library, is your brother, in his lost soul.

“He exactly died in the library after a student became the hostage of those terrorists invaded the campus.” Your mom replied.

It all makes sense. He felt cold, his eyes has no emotions and he has no shadow. And he's the talk of the school.

“Maybe you never noticed the library walls filled with frames. You can see his picture right there.” He said.

“I'm doctor Sim Jaeyun, you can call me Jake.” He introduced to you before he handed out his number calling card.

“Why are you sad?” Heeseung asked while you both read your favorite book. “I found my brother.” You answered and looked at him. “Really? You must be happy.” He said while smiling.

“Indeed. I'm very very happy.” You agreed as your tears of joy fell. “Happier than ever.” And you hugged him making him surprised, “You must really love my hugs.”

Yes, you love it. “I hate you Hee! I miss you so much! I miss you so much oppa!” You cried out. He patted your back making him cry too. “How did you know it's me?” He break the hugged and looked at you. “Jake told me because he's my doctor.” You said as you sniffed. “Heeseung... you should've told me sooner.” You whined as you cried.

He giggled between his sobs, “What should I tell you? hello y/n, i'm your dead brother, i'm a ghost awoooo~” He joked around and you smacked his chest. “That's not funny!" You cried and he hugged you again as he laughed softly.

“Promise me, that you're going now. I don't want you to be stuck around here forever.” You said. Hee smiled sadly. “Okay dear sister, I will go soon. Just let me be with you for this time before my time comes.” He promised.

You woke up on the library floor while your mom and Jake were there. “What happened now my dear?” Your mom asked worriedly. “He went now.” You cried. “He's not here anymore!” You cried harder.

Yes, Heeseung followed the light to the after life. Yet he'll be watching you from above, guide you and protect you.

“Until we meet again...” You said as you touched his picture attached on the library wall.

---------------------------------------------------

Hi and hello, I'm sorry for my wrong grammars and the way how somethings missing. I wrote for what's the weather today here in our town so please forgive me for my unsatisfying work. =)

[kilosch]

Journal Entry: 10/24/24

Morning Routine & Strange Buzziness: Woke up around the same time as yesterday, but for some reason, I felt weirdly buzzy—like I couldn’t tell if it was sleep deprivation or if I was starting to get sick. I got dressed, powered through the fog, and headed to the nearest 7-11 for my morning essentials: an energy drink, coffee, and a snack.

Commute to Huntington Beach – Prepping Mentally: The usual 35-minute drive to the academy felt a bit off today. I put on some Zach Bryan, hoping the music would ease my mind. My test anxiety was creeping back in, and I kept telling myself that I need to focus and push through.

When I parked at the Police Academy, I sat there for a few minutes, sipping my coffee and trying to catch my breath, hoping the caffeine would kick in and help me stay sharp for the day.

Class Begins – LD 16 & Overthinking: By the time I entered the classroom, Instructor Smith was already there, going over the agenda for the day. Today’s focus was all about LD 16 (Search and Seizure), but the deeper we went into the material, the more anxious I became. As informative as the lecture was, I kept thinking, Is this really going to help me pass the test? The material felt more theoretical than practical, and that only made me doubt myself more.

Smith reassured us that the PC 832 test would likely focus on scenario-based questions, which gave me a bit of relief—but not much. I kept jotting down notes, hoping something would click.

A Classmate’s Story – LAPD and Misconduct: Around 3 PM, right in the middle of discussing search and seizure, one of my classmates suddenly opened up about a personal encounter with law enforcement. He’s an Armed Security Officer, and apparently, he had a bad run-in with LAPD.

He explained that he was detained, cuffed, and patted down three times by officers, even though he repeatedly told them he was legally armed. What’s worse, the officers confiscated his firearm and allegedly planted drugs in his car. He said everything was caught on bodycam footage, and he’s currently suing the officers involved.

When Instructor Smith asked which LAPD division was responsible, my classmate responded, “77th Division.” Smith’s response was telling—he just sighed and said, “I’m not surprised... they’re turning into Rampart and Newton.”

For context, Rampart and Newton divisions are known for some of the worst misconduct cases in LAPD history, which gave the conversation a heavy vibe. That was the only interesting part of the day, but it definitely stuck with me.

Heading Home – Reuniting with My Parents: Class wrapped up shortly after that, and I began the hour-long drive home. The drive was tiring, but seeing my parents made everything feel better. When I got home, I hugged them tight—it felt so good to have them back.

Later, I spent some quality time with my dad, taking the dog out for a walk and catching up on life. We talked about everything—work, the academy, and how things have been. My mom mentioned that they’re considering going back to the Philippines in January, which hit me harder than I expected. There’s a chance they might miss my Police Academy graduation, and that really bothers me... but I didn’t say anything. I just nodded and tried to stay positive.

Evening Prep & No Depressive Thoughts: As the night rolled in, I made sure to prepare everything for tomorrow’s class. I feel surprisingly calm—no overwhelming thoughts or anxiety tonight. I think the reunion with my parents helped ground me a bit.

Now, I’m just mentally gearing up to nail that PC 832 test. I want to pass, not just for myself but for everyone who’s been cheering me on.

[travellingarsonist]

PROLOGUE

Our protag Nene Kusanagi along with the rest of WONDERLANDS x SHOWTIME stand near the entrance of Hope’s Peak Academy, excited, ecstatic, and nervous at the same time. 

“My, this is quite the opportunity we’ve achieved so far! I wonder what more is to come~” said Rui, his eyes sparkling just as bright as Tsukasa’s and Emu’s as he looks straight at the academy

“Nene-chan, Nene-chan! Do you think we’ll be able to perform to all the students there!?” Emu asks with excitement evident in her voice.

“Well,” Nene chuckles at her before continuing. “If you want, we can perform to the whole school,” she answered with a small grin plastered on her face.

Nene had become more confident over the one year they have been together. Even if they’ll be in different years, with her and Emu entering their second year while Rui and Tsukasa proceed to the third, they will be together, from performing to even just a simple hangout, they’ll stick together.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let us embark on our new journey!” Tsukasa shouted as he led them to the entrance.

Sadly, their happy moments are cut off when they step foot into the area as they start blacking out all at once (womp womp). They later wake up in a room together (this is where we start focusing on Nene’s POV) and find their friends from all the different groups.

“Nene-chan, you’re awake! Thank god!” Emu cried out, immediately hugging Nene right after.

She was still dazed, but hugged Emu back despite her state. She was able to spot Rui softly shaking Tsukasa awake, and sighed in relief. All her partners were here, unharmed and healthy.

“Uh- Emu, where are we exactly?” Nene questioned the petit girl since she was unfamiliar with their surroundings. Yellow desks with plastic chairs, a whiteboard and two blackboards beside them, a stage underneath the boards, two doors leading outside, and the most notable thing within the room; a multitude of windows on one side of the room covered by what seemed to be metal plates.

Rui, who just finished waking up the blond boy, answered for Emu.

“I’m afraid none of us know where we are, but I believe this could be one of the Academy’s classrooms,” Rui told her, helping Tsukasa from the chair he was sleeping on.

“Well, whatever’s going on, we should probably get out here if we want to find something,” Nene said before leading them out the classroom.

Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ Æ

As they turned through the hallways, Nene and her partners seem to have bumped into familiar faces, thought Nene couldn’t name all of them.

Hoshino-san and Saki was there along with their friends, Minori and three well-known idols she’s seen were there as well. She could spot Aoyagi-san, Shinonome-san, and Shiraishi-san with Kohane as well as Kanade and her group of friends that they had encountered last year.

Boy was it going to be eventful.

Just like in the original game, they meet Monokuma, or in this case MonoMiku as that’s what most pjsk x dr fanfics do (starting to get tired I can’t write this part augh), shortly after they all enter the school gym and the explanation happens, blah blah blah the ‘You stay here forever until you get away with murder’ thing + the rules:

(⚠️SMALL DISCLAIMER: I don’t remember the standard DR rules nor do I have the mental capability of trying to search it up)

Nighttime is from 10 PM to 7 AM. Until then, students are prohibited from going to the cafeteria, classrooms, labs, or any of the offices.

Any violence committed against the headmaster (MonoMiku) will result in severe punishment.

If a murder occurs, the living students will be given a total of thirty (30) minutes to investigate the scene. There is no time limit for the trial, however, so feel free to spice things up if you wish!

Any damage done to essential/special technology (i. e. security cameras, monopads, doors, etc.) will lead to one warning, and then a punishment if repeated.

All non-deceased students must be at the trial room, if not then they are to be punished accordingly.

During the daytime, students are permitted to exploring all rooms and floors unless they are locked or prohibited by MonoMiku.

During the end of the trials, voting is a must. If you are unable to vote, you are given a small (but very meaningful) punishment.

The body discovery announcement will only activate when three (3) people besides the blackened have discovered the body.

During investigation time, all rooms in unlocked floors are open for investigation .

During the trial, no one is allowed to walk off of their podiums to comfort or attack (you can only do that after the trial) unless you are to show demonstrations or others things that require space. 

They explore n shit, have a small meeting at the dining hall yada yada(illmakethisconvotmrwimnotdoinggreattoday)

I HAVE AN IDEA

this has been rotting in my notes so I might as well get it out here

so basically, its a PJSK x Danganronpa crossover

“SYMPHONY OF THE DESPAIRED”

{LEO/NEED}

Ichika Hoshino, Ultimate Leader (ultimate is a wip)

Saki Tenma, Ultimate Pianist, Secondary Support

Shiho Hinomori, Ultimate Bassist

Honami Mochizuki, Ultimate Drum Player

{MORE MORE JUMP!}

Minori Hanasato, Ultimate Motivational Speaker (also wip)

Haruka Kiritani, Ultimate Idol

Airi Momoi, Ultimate Dance Instructor

Shizuku Hinomori, Ultimate Live Streamer

{VIVID BAD SQUAD}

Kohane Azusawa, Ultimate Photographer

An Shiraishi, Ultimate Hall Monitor (debatable)

Akito Shinonome, Ultimate Soccer Player

Toya Aoyagi, Ultimate Arcade Gamer

{WONDERLANDS x SHOWTIME}

Tsukasa Tenma, Ultimate Actor, antagonist

Emu Otori, Ultimate Entertainer

Nene Kusanagi, Ultimate Vocalist, Protagonist 

Rui Kamishiro, Ultimate Robotics expert, Primary support

{NIGHTCORD AT 25:00}

Kanade Yoisaki, Ultimate Song Composer, Mastermind

Mafuyu Asahina, Ultimate Lyricist, Minor Antagonist

Mizuki Akiyama, Ultimate Seamstress

Ena Shinonome, Ultimate Artist

(yes, the italicized and bold names are important)

[waklman]

Hair tie (Pt. 1)

summary: Dustin tries to keep his new babysitter from meeting Steve Harrington…knowing his older friend is currently girl-crazy. His attempts of keeping the two from meeting each other, fails.

pairing: steve harrington x female reader

warnings: speeding, cursing, and mentions of drinking and drugs.

a/n: been wanting to write this for awhile ;-)

word count: 2.3k

part two

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, staring at the clock—watching the second hand click loudly, reminding you of how late you already were.

Your bra then began to uncomfortably dig into your skin. The layers of your school uniform prevented you from picking at it.

C'mon…we should’ve been let out already.

You stopped paying attention once the meeting went overtime, twenty minutes ago.

The drive to the mall from here should be 15 minutes. It would take me 3 minutes to run out of here and find my car in the lot. And…..I was supposed to be parked outside the entrance…..10 minutes ago for Dustin. Your mind scattered, trying to calculate.

If Mrs. Henderson finds out I left her son waiting outside she’s going to fucking kill me. Fuck. Fuck. Fu-

“…And that wraps up the student council meeting for today, thank you for all being here and see you again next week. Have a great weekend everyone!”

That last sentence pulled you right back into reality.

Throwing your bag onto the desk, you blindly threw your arm in—hastily searching for the familiar feeling of your car keys.

“Whoa Vice-Prez, you got a date after this? What’s with the rush?” the grade 12 rep teased you.

“No, I gotta go pick someone up.”

Suddenly the feeling of cool metal hit the tips of your fingers. Aha!

“Bye everyone!” you shouted, almost tripping on your way out of the classroom.

Finally spotting your car in the student lot, you made a run for it.

You prayed no one witnessed the hectic scene of you basically throwing yourself into your car and swerving out of the parking lot.

“I’ll just pray for forgiveness later.” you spoke out loud, before slamming on the gas, rashly driving out into the streets.

-

Panic began to settle your chest after you saw no one standing outside, as you drove closer to the entrance of the mall.

Everyday Dustin had always stood outside waiting for you at 4:00pm sharp. Today though, he was nowhere to be seen. Your fears of him finally getting kidnapped started to look plausible.

“(Y/N) even if I’m not out by 4, do not—I repeat, do not step outside your car to go looking for me until an hour passes or something!” The memory of his stressed warning replayed through your head.

But..he’s never been late to meet me, and it’s already very much past 4pm.

“Fuck it.” Your babysitter instincts kicked in, urging you to go look for him inside Starcourt Mall.

You would usually thinking twice before leaving your car unattended in such a populated place, but your worries of Dustin’s whereabouts strongly washed over the rational side of your brain.

-

“You know I just love your company and all Henderson...” Steve began sarcastically.

“But doesn’t your mom usually pick you up by now?”

“Yeah…it's like 4:30, did your mom forget about you today?” Steve’s new coworker Robin chimed in.

Before realization even hit the younger boy, you had already continued your search for Dustin in the new ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy—recalling the few times Dustin would have ice cream ready for you when you picked him up from the mall.

Dustin saw Steve’s eyes widen in interest at whoever just entered the store.

“Dustin is that you?” Your silvery voice called out to him.

“Uh did you forget to mention that you have a teen mom…that goes to that rich school up north?” Robin observed the private school uniform laid on your body.

No…..Don't tell me..

He whipped his head and went running towards you.

“Hey, why weren’t you out front?”

“No! No! No!” he grabbed your arms and spun you around, so Steve couldn’t get another glance at you.

“Hey. Ouch. Hey! Let go! What are you doing? Dustin!” you finally released yourself from his clammy hands, turning back around.

Steve watched your banter with Dustin from his place behind the counter. He swallowed hard, you looked…so familiar. Steve began to search his brain for memories of you, but it was futile. He’s met so many girls that his brain began to scramble his interactions with every girl he’s met in this town.

Has he ever bumped into you before?

“I need to pee! I need to pee so bad (Y/N)! Let’s go home! I need to pee!” Dustin had shouted the first excuse he thought up.

(Y/N)? I don't think I even know that name…do I?

“What? Let’s get you to one of the bathrooms in the mall then.” you shouted back, confused at his sudden outburst.

“No!”

“No? You said you needed the bathroom!”

“Th-The public bathrooms here are dirty. They’re just nasty. Full of filth!” technically he wasn’t lying.

“Okay? Let’s get you home to your bathroom then..”

“Yes! Exactly! Yes! My bathroom!” He cheered.

He began to drag you out, pulling you by the hem of your polo.

While being forcefully dragged out the store, you had made note of the employees that watched you.

You’ve met that male employee before. You blinked, recognizing his face. You never expected to see him again.

“I’m sorry” you mouthed to him as he stood by the register. You and Dustin had caused a scene to break out in the store.

With that, Dustin had completely pulled you out from his view.

“Who was that?” Robin questioned her coworker.

“I wish I knew...” he continued to stare at the empty spot you previously occupied.

-

After his brief interaction with you, Steve couldn’t get the image of your face out of his head. It was etched deep into his memory. He told himself that if he were blessed with artistic abilities he would’ve sketched your face onto any canvas he could get his hands on—hoping to relieve the strange hold you had on him.

He’s tried asking Dustin about you, but that “stubborn bastard” didn’t seem to want to reveal any facts about you. At first he even refused to admit you existed.

“Are we friends or not Henderson?”

“We are!”

“Okay? Then why can't you tell me about that girl.”

“What girl? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The girl that picked you up the other day. What was her name…? (Y/N). Yeah it was (Y/N).”

“That was just my mom.” he tried playing dumb, stuffing ice cream into his mouth.

“Do you think I have no brain under all this hair? I know what your mom looks like!” He pointed an accusing finger at the middle schooler

“It was my mom! Maybe you’re just going crazy, imagining my mom to look all young and pretty. You’re a feen!”

“I am not crazy! Right Robin?” Steve urged his co-worker to back him up.

“I’ll have to agree with dingus here, she was definitely not your mom. Too young.” Robin shrugged.

“She’s just some girl I know, okay? Happy?”

“And when did you know of older girls?”

“I know lots of older girls.” Dustin started getting defensive

“Can we just drop this, I need to tell you about my new theory!”

“Yeah fine, lay it on me Henderson” there was no point trying to juice information out of the stubborn kid.

-

At this point he gave up on figuring out who you were.

It’s been a week and he even tried to run out after Dustin, in order to get another peek at you but the kid always urges you to speed off, every. single. time.

Steve sat slouched in his empty living room, barely paying attention to the movie playing in front of him.

He kept picking at a dusty pink hair tie on his wrist, pulling it and letting it snap back against his irritated skin.

Suddenly, he jolted in his seat in realization, scrambling to sit up straight.

Steve laughed at the hair tie on his wrist, hysterically. If anyone were to peer through the window, it would’ve looked like he had a few screws loose.

You gave him this! That’s how it randomly appeared on his wrist, that one morning!

The memories flooded back to him.

-

“Whoa, hey there buddy are you okay?” You bent down to examine the guy slumped into a bush.

You had just found him right outside a house party your friends dragged you to.

“Did you get drugged?” You peeled his eyes open, noticing his pupils were dilated like saucers.

“How many times have I told you, dad.” He dragged out his sentence

“…I don’t do drugs, It’s only marijuana” he booped your nose.

“Okay someone definitely spiked whatever you were drinking. Do you have a ride home?” You asked, genuinely concerned—you were naturally a babysitter after all.

“Take me home!” He randomly demanded, dragging you down in a lazy hug.

“Hey, stop that. Let’s get you up, yeah?”

Using all your strength, you pulled him up to his feet. He stumbled a bit, holding onto your body for support— you allowed him to grab you.

“Come on..I need to get you to…my car.” You groaned, dragging him over to the passenger door.

He laid all his weight onto your back, his head resting on your shoulder while you pulled the car door open.

“Did you fall asleep on me?” you laughed shifting his weight to the seat, kneeling down next to him afterwards.

His eyes fluttered open for one second, his expression was cloudy but he attempted to smile back at you.

You reached out a careful hand to wipe away the sweat dripping on his forehead.

“Nice smile you got there, what’s your name?”

“Harrington. Steve.” he sent you a sloppy wink.

“Well, Mr. Steve, I’m (Y/N) and I kinda need to get this seatbelt on you.” you pulled the seatbelt strap across his body, securing it in place—ignoring his breath fanning your face.

“You. You smell really good. Like a cookie” he leaned in even closer, sniffing your neck.

“Thanks..” you slowly moved back, slightly flustered by his actions.

Making sure not to be rash, you closed his door quietly.

Get it together (Y/N). Ignore him. He’s just drugged out his mind.

You slapped your own cheeks before climbing into your seat.

“So...you want to tell me where you live?” asking, after starting up the car.

“10 blocks straight down. Fowler Ave. House with the biggg red door and the ugly white flowers out front.” He laughed to himself.

The drive was short and quiet. He had his body sprawled all over his seat, you glanced over a few times worried because he was so stiff. You prayed that he wouldn’t flatline inside your car.

Before pulling into his driveway, you made sure to turn off your headlights—in case his parents were home.

“It's okay. Parents are away,” he whispered, reaching out to poke your arm.

“Oh, okay.”

You left him inside the car for a moment, walking up to his front door.

Please let me be right.

Lifting the doormat, you saw an extra house key underneath, glistening under the moonlight.

“Yes!” you proudly picked up the key.

Unlocking his front door, you peered into the empty home looking for a light switch.

After playing around with a few switches, you found the one that lit up his living room.

Now to get him inside.

After a bit of struggling, you managed to get him to lay on his couch.

You sat on his floor, out of breath as he giggled at you.

“You find this funny?” you laughed back at him

“No, I find this pretty. you. pretty” he reached out to boop your nose again.

“Not exactly what I meant, but thanks” you smiled at his attempt at a compliment.

You scooted over to his feet to remove his shoes, and moved back up to pull his jacket off his body.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Steve but I should really get back.” You softly whispered at his limp body.

Before you could gather yourself to stand, he weakly reached out to grab you.

“Please..”

“Stay? I wanna talk more. In the morning please.” he begged, eyes closed shut from drowsiness.

As much as you wanted to accompany him, you had already promised your friends that you’d be their designated driver.

“Trust me, I’d rather babysit you all night but I promised my babysitting duties to my friends tonight.” you apologized to him, moving the hair that covered his eyes.

A few seconds of silence passed. You thought he fell asleep until he spoke up again.

“How do I know then?”

“Know..what?”

“That you’re real.” he mumbled.

“Will my words of reassurance be enough?” you watched his eyes slowly open.

“No. You’re like. You’re so unreal. You can't be real…too freaking pretty.” he fought the urge to close his eyes, so he could look at you.

Your heartbeat began to pick up its pace.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you with something then. You know. To prove to you that I’m real and all.” you said, offering him a solution.

“a kiss?” a dopey smile quickly found its way to his flushed face.

“No. You’re not even sober. And I don’t even know if you have a girlfriend or something.” you deadpanned.

“Here.” you pulled off a pink hair tie off your wrist, transferring it onto his.

“What if you need it?” his face drew into concern. He felt himself getting slowly sober again.

“I won’t. I brought it just in case I needed to tie my friend’s hair back. Guess I’ll just have to hold her hair while she yacks.” you assured him.

“I’ll give this back to you next time.” he declared, referring to the hair tie.

“Yeah?” you never really went out, you doubted that you would run into him again.

He hummed, agreeingly.

After a few seconds, you heard soft snores coming from him.

“See you next time then, Steve..” you got up, leaving his house.

-

Steve was giddy, recalling his memories with you. Although he had to admit it was slightly embarrassing that you met him while he was in that state.

Now he was left with figuring how he can see you again.

[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!

[cottonkendi]

Your Babies | 12

MASTERLIST

Sano Shinichiro x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Crack, Angst (?)

Warning: Profanity

Synopsis: How it started ft. How it ended

Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

a/n: we all know about shinichiro's 20 rejections right? and i know that a lot of people are joking about shin getting rejected cause wakasa is so handsome but I read a hc about shin being rejected so much because he's such a playboy, flirting with diff girls everyday and I think that that's more likely since he's so charismatic

Sano Shinichiro.

A boy that you’ve heard so much about ever since you first studied in the same school in your first year of middle school that you practically know everything about him without even having to actually meet him.

From what you heard. He’s charismatic and kind. Someone that you’ll inevitably like the moment you meet him. But along with that, he’s also a flirt. Someone who shamelessly flirts with different girls everyday.

Everyday, another one of your female classmates will enter the classroom, complaining about how much of an asshole Sano Shinichiro is. Flirting with her, asking her out on a date only to see him asking another girl out an hour later.

Due to all of these stories about him, along with actual evidence from your friends who became a ‘victim’ to his flirtatious acts, you have decided that you will be avoiding him at all cost.

In your third year of middle school when Shinichiro started his flirty acts, you almost joined the same club as him but managed to leave just before signing your name on the form.

First year of high school, you almost got assigned as his tutor for the whole semester but thankfully, a friend of yours volunteered to tutor him. In the end, your friend had run to you, crying her eyes out about how she thought that he was interested in her only to see him flirting with another girl.

After this, during your second year of high school, he almost became your classmate after the teachers tried moving him to another class after finding out that one of the other males in the class was a part of a rival gang and Shinichiro almost got beaten up inside the classroom after he refused to fight. Thankfully, one of your classmates was also a part of the same rival gang and so, Shinichiro was moved to another class. (You don’t know why they decided to move Shinichiro when he wasn’t even the one who started the fight.)

For three whole years of you avoiding Shinichiro, you managed to luck out on all of them. Never once forced into being in a room with him for longer than 10 minutes. But in those three years that you actively avoided him, it was inevitable for you to not notice the little things about him.

Like how his smiles were always so bright even after getting rejected multiple times in a day. How he never fails to help your teachers out in the hallway even though they always send him to the office for causing trouble by the school’s gate during the afternoons. Lastly, no matter how much you run away just from the mere sight of his styled hair, he never fails to smile at you with a matching wave before shouting his greetings at you.

“Good morning!”

“Did you have lunch?”

“Going home already?”

“Let me help you with that.”

And everytime you hear him start talking to you, you run the opposite way, hoping that he’ll get too distracted to even remember you that day even though your heart is beating like crazy. Cheeks heating up at the mere thought that Sano Shinichiro knows you and greets you almost everyday. It’s so unlike how he treats others that you may have let yourself fall for him a little throughout those years.

But alas, you’re stubborn.

Even with the growing feelings for him, you still forced yourself to run away.

Though it seems that you won’t have the luxury of running away from him anymore.

Not when you found out that he’ll be your classmate in your last year in highschool. Worse, he’s sitting right beside you, obviously staring while you try to ignore him and listen to your teacher discuss the different activities for your last year as seniors.

“Alright class, lastly, your batch will be having a prom at the end of the school year which means that there will be a dance. Everyone is required to participate and we’ll have the list of partners 2 months before the prom. That will be all. I’ll take my leave so that your next teacher can discuss the units for your subject.”

You feel as if your safety blanket is ripped off of you the moment the teacher walks out of the classroom.

You can feel Shinichiro inching closer to you, his slender hand resting on your table as he plays with your pen. “L/N-san, we’ve finally become classmates after years.” He says, a smile on his face as he gives you a wink.

You can’t help yourself, your face uncontrollably scrunching up in disgust at the cringey wink that he sent you.

Even if you did like him, to which you’ll never admit to anyone, receiving the usual winks that he gave the other girls just made you want to ask your teacher to move you to another class.

Only sparing him an awkward smile, you start ignoring him once more, taking out a music sheet from your bag and starting to memorize it, but then, just when you think that he’ll leave you alone and just talk to someone else, Shinichiro moves closer to you, resting his cheek on his hand which is placed on your table so that he can look up at you. “I’m excited to spend the school year with you, Y/N. I hope that we can be closer as well~ How ‘bout you? What are you hoping for this year?”

An irresistibly attractive smirk makes its way to his thin lips as he stares at you.

You can almost feel yourself blush at the burning stare that he’s directing at you. So, in order to save yourself from this sudden burst of emotions, you force your lips into a fake smile and push his head off of your desk. “I hope that you’re not planning on playing with me like you usually do with the others, Sano-san.”

“Damn...” Shinichiro whispers one last time, brows raised in amusement as he gives a little shrug before going back to his seat when the door opens, revealing the next teacher.

You don’t know what you expected during the first day of having Sano Shinichiro as your classmate.

Maybe you were expecting for him to actually listen to what you told him about not playing with you.

Or maybe you knew that he was never going to listen to a word you said and that you were just trying to lie to yourself in hopes that the peace that you managed to protect for the last 3 years won’t be disrupted due to a certain dark-haired male with a slightly ugly looking hairstyle. (Honestly, you won’t admit it to anyone but the pompadour is growing on you after seeing it almost everyday for 4 months.)

But what you didn’t expect is for Sano Shinichiro to make it his life’s goal to always, and by that, you mean ALWAYS, try to be by your side. Greeting you whenever and wherever.

It’s 7am?

He greets you with a ‘good morning’.

It’s lunch time?

He wishes you a good lunch while also asking if he can eat lunch with you.

It’s 3pm and you’re about to walk home?

He offers to walk you home or a ride on his motorcycle.

It’s 5pm and he sees you in a convenience store?

He will run inside the store and greet you with a wide smile, sometimes, he’ll even try to ruffle your hair as a greeting.

It’s 8pm and you forgot to cook dinner for yourself so you’re in the night market?

He will not so subtly ‘unintentionally’ bump into you and invite himself to walk with you around the market in search of dinner.

It almost feels like you’ve signed yourself up for a pocket friend or something with how much you’ve been seeing and unknowingly hanging out with him.

Aside from that, conversation with him has been started without your knowledge. One moment you’re finishing up an activity for a subject, the next minute, you’re listening to Shinichiro talk about this fight that they had the other night over some territories and some motorcycle tips. You don’t understand a thing, you haven’t even rode a motorcycle nor touched one in your life but now you’re listening to him about when and how to properly change oil and clean up a bike. All the while he slips in some compliments about how you look today, how you did during the quiz and how your guitar looks pretty cool.

“I’ve been wondering. Isn’t it heavy? Carrying your guitar everyday during the morning and afternoon only to play it for like an hour during club hours?” Shinichiro asks you after swiftly turning around on his chair, elbow placed on your desk as he stares at you. “If you want, I can carry it for you when you walk home? And I can fetch you in the morning too. I’m sure riding a motorcycle to and from school will be easier, right?”

Your heart flutters at the offer. Excitement coursing through your veins when you slightly imagine yourself having Sano Shinichiro fetching you from your house. The offer is so tempting that you almost want to take it, but alas, your logical side is already screaming at you to quickly end the conversation so that your little crush won’t turn into something more.

Slightly shaking your head, you politely decline his offer with a smile even though you terribly want to accept his offer. “It’s fine, Sano-san. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you have more girls to fetch and take on dates after school. And your gang fights too.”

You don’t notice the way Shinichiro deflates, the smile on his lips wavering before it goes back to the normal wide smile. “I told you to stop calling me that. Call me love-” Seeing your glare, he backtracks. “Or Shinichiro. That works too. But anyway, I can always have Takeomi and the others handle the fights. As for the girls, I always have time for you, y’know? I’ll just cancel the dates since you’re the most important girl I know-”

“And why is that, Sano-san? Why am I the most important girl that you know?”

Your question catches him off guard, not at all expecting for you to question him since you would only ignore him everytime he said anything similar to that. But now, you’re staring at him, hard irises staring right at his dark orbs. And if he looks closer, maybe then he’d see just how anxious you were while waiting for his answer. If he had watched you closer, maybe then he’d notice the shake of your fists on your desk at the mention of him cancelling dates with other girls.

He can’t help but gulp, seeing the seriousness in your face.

Maybe he played too much and hit a nerve.

“Sano-san, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop saying nonsense things to me. You’re always lying about how you like being with me, like talking to me and all that but you’re always running your mouth without having any actions to back it up so if you will, please stop wasting my time, Sano-san. I’d rather not be another one of the girls that you add to your little list. I know that you’re all about being in a gang and having any girl that you want, but I really don’t want to be the talk of your gang, being dubbed as the leader’s new girl or something.”

Your eyes shift to your balled up fist, trying your best to not feed the anxious feeling in your chest as Shinichiro continues to be quiet in front of you. “You’re a kind person, Sano-san, but I hope that we’ll only stay as acquaintances. I’d rather not waste my time liking someone like you. Especially not when I know that the moment you get tired of me, you’ll have someone else waiting for you already.”

Maybe you were too harsh on him.

Maybe you had said some things that were a little insensitive and mean regarding how he truly feels about you.

But, during those times, when your conflicting feelings were too much for you to handle, it had caused you to turn a blind eye on Shinichiro’s confusing emotions regarding you.

You had already rejected him without even letting him confess to you.

And to think that it has only been 4 months since the two of you officially met.

It feels like he’s already lost the fight without the fight even starting.

The bell hasn’t even rung but he’s already on the floor, beaten and bloody while you walk away from him.

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[bellysoupset]

Story idea from this post, by @pukeyqt

Meet my new characters, Lucas and Bells.

---

Eating the tuna salad had been a mistake. And easily avoidable mistake at that, as her roommate Tonya had pointed out it "doesn't look right, babes," but Bell was nothing if not a stubborn prick, who wouldn't let the fact that the tuna salad had been sitting in their mini bar fridge for a week deter her.

Now she was paying for it. Her stomach was bubbling ominously and had been feeling uneasy since morning. One whiff of her usual black coffee had sent her retching over the toilet for 10 minutes, but nothing came up other than frothy spit. Her belly hurt.

Not that Isabella was willing to talk about it, knowing her best friend had a cocked-and-ready-to-go "I told you so". She just wanted to get through the last class and go to Lucas' place, curl up in his incredibly comfy bed, knowing for a fact he'd love to dot on her.

A burp sneaked up on her and she pressed the heel of her hands to her lips, muffling it. It brought up the taste of tuna again and she squeezed her eyes, nausea making her skin prickle. She breathed through the worst of queasiness, swallowed in the saliva collecting in her mouth and slowly pulled her hand back. Her stomach was digging on her belt. She had picked these pants because they were a little loose, but it seemed like it was no longer the case, the metal of her belt buckle was pressing hard against her belly.

She tugged at it for some sliver of relief and glanced at her phone. There were still five minutes more before class ended. Not a single text from Lucas, which made her pout. Bell wished he was magically connected to her, that somehow he knew she was about to puke in the middle of campus and just decided it was a great time to offer her a ride.

But no. He was probably at football practice at this hour and his phone was safely tucked away in the locker's room.

Bell let out a shaky breath, then clutched at her stomach as a particular harsh gurgle made itself not only heard, but also made her belly shake lightly. She gagged, swallowed in convulsively and started putting away her text book and her notes, with shaky hands. Even if there was just three minutes more, she couldn't stay.

She all but bolted out of the classroom and straight to one of the campus' bathrooms, crouching down in front of it and gagging harshly. Still, nothing came up. Her stomach felt filled all the way to the top, the salad sitting in her throat, but nothing came up but a couple wet belches that had her eyes tearing up.

She could shove her fingers down her throat and get this over with, but the idea irked her and Bell would rather not throw up at all if possible. She stood up as the noise of people entering the bathroom got louder, presumably because all classes had ended.

One extremely unpleasant bus trip later and she was in Lucas' building. He wasn't supposed to be home for another forty minutes, but it was better than going back to her dorms and she was so queasy she could barely think straight. She just needed to sit down, undo her pants and rub at her belly, praying her food stayed down.

He had given her the key a month before and slowly she was getting more comfortable with coming over uninvited or when he wasn't around.

Bell all but chucked her bag at the general direction of his couch and stalked over to the master suite's bathroom for some extra privacy, only to feel two strong arms wrap around her middle and squeeze her hard as her boyfriend pulled her off of her feet.

It was all it took.

The pressure that had been there all morning went up and she scrambled in his grip, only to throw up down her front. The mess stuck to her shirt, to his forearm wrapped around her stomach and she heard loud swearing, but Lucas didn't drop her in disgust, only set her back down gently, keeping the arm that was already dirty firmly in place.

She was incredibly grateful for it, because the minute her feet met the ground, she nearly went down to her knees with the force of another retch, this one bringing up an even larger gush and covering her combat boots with puke.

Isabella coughed, dug on Lucas' arm for support and then embarrassment hit her even stronger than the nausea, causing a sob to burst through her.

"Oh no, honey-" Lucas was rambling somewhere over her head and then his big hand was on her face, pushing the dirty locks of hair away, wiping her tears with his thumb, "Bella, what's hurting? Bells, talk with me-"

She whimpered, wanting to wrap an arm protectively around her middle, but just the thought of the mess slowly sipping through her ratty tank top made her want to puke all over again, "I'm- gross-"

Lucas widened his eyes at her, "you're crying because you're embarrassed?!" he scoffed and then finally pulled back his arm, wiping the vomit off of it with his hand and then cleaning the hand down his jersey shirt. Then he cupped her face and did the same to her, wiping the puke off her lips, not bothered in the least, "I'm in the football team, baby, you're the least gross thing I've seen today, trust me."

She snorted, still unable to stop the tears, "I really don't feel well, Luke."

"I can see that," he teased, only to receive a weak shove to his chest and chuckle, "let's move you to the bathroom, honey."

It was a testament to how sick she felt that she didn't say anything as her boyfriend manhandled her to the bathroom and then bunched up her long curls into a messy bun on top of her head.

"There, you look beautiful," he said, crouching down in front of her and tapping her arms up, "let's get you out of these disgusting clothes-"

"You just wanna see my tits," Bell groaned, feeling marginally better and he opened a blinding smile at the joke.

"Always," Lucas promised with a wink, before slowly maneuvering her top off and throwing it inside the sink, "feels better, uh?"

Bell sniffled, nodding, "I messed up your floor..."

"Eh, nothing that hasn't happened before," he promised, leaning in to kiss her forehead, "are you sick?"

"Now you ask me?" She eyed him skeptically, heart soaring, because even if she had the flu, even if she was contagious, he clearly didn't care. She had never been anyone's priority as she was with Lucas, it made her feel lightheaded sometimes.

He shrugged, cheeks blushing and she leaned back against the wall, starting to undo her belt, "No, I just ate some garbage yesterday. Felt awful since morning."

"I'm sorry," Lucas grimaced in sympathy, "better now, though?"

Bella paused, accessing herself. Her stomach was still unsettled, but the insane nausea from before was gone, at least for now, "a little... Still don't feel great."

"Let's get cleaned up and in bed, so I can rub your tummy."

"You're a dork," she groaned, blushing at him calling her stomach tummy.

"I don't have a better word for that cute little tummy of yours, Bells," Lucas scoffed, leaning in again and then planting a kiss over her lips, only for her to pull back with a groan.

"Lucas! I just puked!"

"I don't care," he rolled his eyes, grabbing her chin and giving her another peck.

"You're crazy, boy," she groaned, resting her forehead heavily against his and relaxing for the first time all day.