#Texts;;Where the hell is that damn badge?

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS ENOUGH

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: a week after the fight that tore you apart, jake finds out about the accident. (part 2 of a losing game)

wc: 9.3k 

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), recommended to read a losing game first, angst galore, swearing, mentions of alcohol, drunk driving (don't do it), bad parental relationships, academic pressure, hospitals, description of injuries 

part of the loving you universe || find it on ao3 here

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Jake Seresin used to think he had no regrets in his life. Every time he was close to feeling as if that were so, the universe found a way to turn it around and prove to him that he made the right choice. Choosing to go to USC for instance, instead of staying in his home state of Texas, he thought was the biggest mistake he had made in his life. Then USC led him to Delta Chi where he made lifelong friends, and ultimately he met you. So no, Jake Seresin had no regrets in life. Yet as he sat under the fluorescent white lights of the sterile hospital waiting room, Jake was able to think of one. 

All the days passed by in a blur, with Jake finding himself in a robotic routine that helped him get through the day:

Wake up 

Go to class

Eat 

Do not think about Ace 

Nap 

Eat 

Do not think about Ace 

(attempt to) Sleep

It wasn’t the healthiest of routines, but it was enough to keep him surviving. At least until he began receiving your texts. Your apologies and declarations of love made him weak, making it much harder for him to stand his ground and give himself the space that he told himself he needed. With each passing day, he found it harder to convince himself that space is what he actually wanted. So he silenced your notifications. The bright red badge continued to grow in number and it took all of his power to not give in and click your contact. 

By the fifth day, Jake thought he was actually doing pretty well. He was even studying for his finals and going to every single one of his study groups that you had suggested he try. Even as one thing or another always led back to a reminder of you, his self control was much more restrained and he felt just a little bit lighter. 

Jake missed you like hell, that was for sure. But maybe this fight was a sign for him to work on himself. To be better not just for you, but for himself as well. 

So he did what he thought was best by pulling a page from your book and choosing to throw himself into his work. He shut everyone out, refusing to go to any outings with Javy and the gang. He didn’t answer his phone and barely left his room other than to go to classes or use the bathroom. Jake ignored the fact that in doing so, he was neglecting his physical and mental health. In turn, making this coping strategy of his more harmful than good. While he thought his obsession with his isolation and studying was “making himself better,” he didn’t realize that the only thing he was really doing was actively avoiding the problem at hand. 

But as day seven rolled around, Jake’s fake it till you make it attitude came crashing down. Upon returning back to his and Javy’s shared room in the Frat House after his final exam, Jake fell onto his bed and finally let himself feel. 

Jake Seresin has never felt so alone. After days of avoiding, he gave himself permission to think about you–to miss you. Remembering the last time he saw you and the last moment you shared, he could feel the tears that began to gather on his lash line. Too tired to hold it in, he let his emotions go. He let the sobs and cries for help he has been burying in his chest break free. He was tired, so damn tired, of pretending like everything was okay. Like he was okay. 

He wanted someone to notice that something was off with him, that something happened to make him feel absolutely miserable in his own skin. However, everyone was too caught up in their own whirlwinds of final exams, studying, and relationships to notice that Jake was struggling to stay afloat without his life preserver–without you. 

His heart ached and longed for you. Your voice, your touch, your love. If he could take it all back he would. He would’ve come back to you without a second thought. Jake would have gathered you in his arms and sat with you all night long until the two of you could work it out. Because he wasn’t Hangman anymore. He wouldn’t leave you out to dry. Yet somehow he managed to do exactly that. 

With the only thing on his mind being you, he finally mustered up the courage to read all of the texts you had sent him days prior. The first few made his heart ache, reading your heartfelt apologies and declarations of love was enough to make him start crying all over again. Teary eyed smiles graced his features at your small anecdotes and pictures of things that reminded you of him. 

He could hear your voice and see your mannerisms in his head at each text he reads through. 

Jake’s euphoria is interrupted by the fifth call he has received from Natasha. He rolls his eyes before immediately declining her call. Nat probably finally talked to you about what happened and he figured she was calling to rip him a new one. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for that right now. 

His smile grows as he scrolls through his phone, especially at the photo of a golden retriever you saw on campus that “looked like him.” A playful scoff leaves him at that as he imagines the way you would’ve jumped up and down on the tips of your toes, clutching onto his arm, as you justified how he was a golden retriever in human form. This was the closest he felt to you in days and he wished for it to never end. 

Jake continued on, savoring every good night and “I love you” text, every apology, and every good luck you wished him on his exams. Though one series of texts was enough to have the fullness in Jake’s heart flushed empty. He reads them over and over again, praying that he read them wrong. 

I failed my exams, Jake. I don’t know what to do. 

His heart skips a beat. 

I can’t go home this summer. I won’t. I can’t face my parents, they’ll hate me forever. 

But the worst of them all, the one he begs was a prank being played on him by the universe read: I’m taking your silence as a sign that I’ve fucked us up beyond repair. I love you, Jake Seresin, even if you no longer love me.

He’s going to be sick. Sure he was mad, but he never wanted you to ever think that he didn’t love you anymore. That was just a statement that could never be true. Jake was done wallowing. He was done making you both suffer because he wasn’t man enough to confront you. Swallowing his fears and his pride, he begins formulating a text to ask you to meet him at The Hard Deck–somewhere familiar, though not too intimate just yet. 

He’s about to press send when a phone call from Javy interrupts his screen. Jake instantly presses decline, however, he barely has another second before Javy’s name pops up again. 

With an agitated sigh, Jake finally answers the phone, swearing up and down that whatever he was calling for better be something good. “The hell you want, Javy?” 

“Jake–” he starts. 

“Look, I’ve been getting calls from Nat all day and I’m assuming that’s why you’re calling me right now,” Jake vents. “But I really, really don’t have time for a lecture from either of you right now, man.” 

“Jake.” Javy’s voice shifts into something more somber, more serious. “Ace’s been in an accident.” 

It’s as if his feet have processed the information long before his brain did. Jake blacks out, barely recognizing the actions in which he’s pulling on his shoes and rushing out of his room and into the common living area. 

The air is knocked out of his lungs, forcing him to grasp for leverage on the edge of the table. Jake can hear Bradley asking what’s wrong but all he can focus on is Javy’s breathing, the sound of people rushing around in the background. The phone slips from his hand and he feels like his entire rib cage is caving in on itself, crushing his heart. Black spots swim on his vision and there’s a hand on his chest telling him to breathe.

“Come on, Seresin,” Bradley’s voice comes through. “Breathe.” 

A heavy exhale escapes him as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He’s muttering an incoherent string of words, stumbling his way through the room and trying to get to the front door. 

Bradley is right on his tail, yanking on his own pair of shoes and grabbing the phone that Jake haphazardly dropped on the floor in the middle of his attack. “You gotta tell me what’s going on, man, you’re scaring me.” 

Jake abruptly stops at the front door, turning to look at Bradley over his shoulder with something worse than heartbreak in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything more other than, “Ace. It’s Ace.” 

That’s all Bradley needs to hear before he’s grabbing the car keys from Jake’s hands and dialing Javy’s number back into Jake’s phone. 

Jake could hardly remember when he got to the hospital, let alone how he was able to navigate himself to get to the ER without help when the only thing on his mind was you. He couldn’t even recall what Javy had said about the extent of your injuries, just that you were still unconscious from the car accident. 

Upon reaching the ER Jake saw Nat sitting in the waiting room with her head in her hands while Javy sat beside her and gently rubbed a comforting hand up and down her back. 

Bradley and Jake’s heavy footsteps alert the couple. Nat’s head shoots up, her red rimmed and teary eyes locking on Jake’s. She’s storming over in seconds, pushing at his chest angrily. 

“Why the hell didn’t you pick up your phone?” 

“Nat–” he starts, only to be silenced with another harsh shove. He takes the brunt of the hit, knowing he deserved every single one and worse. “I’m sorry.” Jake winces at how pathetic he sounds. 

Natasha shakes her head with disappointment clouding her features. “Sorry isn’t gonna fix this.” 

Javy joins the group, nodding at Bradley as he gestures for him to sit down. He places a hand on Jake’s shoulder asking him to do the same. He only brushes Javy’s hand off, taking a step closer to Nat. 

“Is she…is she okay?” He braces himself for the worst. Jake’s heart beats so fast against his ribcage that he swears he could feel the muscle begin to ache. 

Natasha inhales shakily before collapsing into the nearest seat. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The fear in his veins begins to mix with annoyance and fury. The rational side of him knew he shouldn’t be mad at Nat, but the only thing occupying his thoughts was the idea of you not being okay. Having to hear that you were in the hospital was already bad enough. He doesn’t think he could take anything more. 

“I mean, I don’t know!” Nat’s voice rises with that same frustration and fear. “All the lady on the phone said was that she was in a car accident with four other people from our school. From what I understand, the others made it out okay, but the car that t-boned them…” Her voice wavers, recalling the words she heard earlier that evening and imagining the worst. “The other car hit Ace’s side head on. She took most of the impact. The other four made it out okay with barely any scratches.” 

Jake’s hands are shaking as he braces them on his knees, desperate to catch his breath. He didn’t realize his knees had hit the floor until he felt the sting from the solid ground. But he didn’t have it in him to care about anything other than you right now. Jake desperately tries to piece everything together from your texts from the night before but nothing was making sense. Everything he was trying to understand came out between shallow breaths. “Where did she go? Why was she out so late? Who was she with? Why weren’t any of you with her?” 

“Jake,” Bradley interferes, squeezing his shoulder as a gentle reminder to breathe. 

Jake catches the way Javy clenches his jaw from the corner of his eye which has him demanding answers. “Javy.” There was something his friends weren’t telling him, making the searing hot anger in his blood begin to boil. 

Nat saves her boyfriend by giving up the information for him. “Before you get upset, you need to understand that she didn’t tell any of us where she was going. None of us had really seen her lately and just assumed she was stressed out from finals. We didn’t think things were this bad.” 

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” 

“Jake,” Javy starts cautiously. He kneels down beside his friend, speaking nice and slow, almost like he was conversing with a child. “If we tell you, you have to promise to stay calm.” 

He scoffs in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “How do you think I’ll be able to stay calm? I just found out my girlfriend has been in an accident and no one wants to tell me what the hell is going on!” 

“Javy, just tell him. He deserves to know,” Bradley sighs. 

“Damn right, I deserve to know. I’m her boyfriend!” Jake’s seething as he gets up and starts pacing back and forth. People are beginning to stare but he doesn’t give a damn. 

It’s Nat’s turn to grow agitated. “Really? Because last I heard the two of you were on a break.” 

“Wait, what?” Javy looks at his best friend in bewilderment. 

Nat shoots him a look that says, I’ll explain it all later. 

“Doesn’t matter if we were on a break or not. She’s still my girl and I need to know what happened.” 

The conviction in his tone and the strength on his face are enough to make Javy and Nat cave. Hiding this from him would only make things worse than they already were. 

Nat doesn’t dare to meet Jake’s eye as she says, “She was with some Alpha Sigs and their girlfriends. Everyone in the car was intoxicated. Even the guy at the wheel. They were coming from the Alpha Sig house. I don’t know what the hell they were doing in a car like that but I know the Sigs are in interrogation with the police right now.” 

Bradley clenches his fist. “Those bastards.” 

“Ace was the only one whose condition was critical.” The word critical falls short on her tongue, being whispered into the tense atmosphere. 

Jake’s silence is unnerving. They were expecting an outburst of some sort. Some screaming, maybe even some physical aggression yet not of it came. The sound that fell from Jake’s lips was worse than anything they could’ve imagined. 

It was as if everyone in the room heard his heartbreak as he was unable to control the tears that fell from his eyes. The feeling of overwhelming guilt rushed over him at the realization that he should have been there. That this was all his fault. You would have never humored the idea of an Alpha Sig party in the first place if the two of you had just talked everything out. But you weren’t thinking straight, and neither was he, leading the both of you towards the path of least resistance. Instead, Jake had to be stubborn and sensitive. He couldn’t just man up and admit that you were more important than his ego and pride. 

Nothing matters to him anymore upon his epiphany other than needing to see you. You were the only one that could help him. 

“I need to see her,” he says through nasally breaths. 

During Jake’s spiral, Nat had let tears of her own fall. “They’re not letting any of us see her right now. Just family.” The last part tastes like acid on her tongue. 

“We’re her family. They need to let me see her,” he begs. Jake remembers you telling him that he and your friends were truly the only family you have ever known. 

“Biological, Jake. We can’t. Not until her parents get here.” She doesn’t even try to hide the scowl on her face. 

“Well, where the hell are they?” Jake questions. 

“Bora Bora? Or was it Barbados? I have no fucking clue. The nurse said it sounded like they were more upset about their vacation being cut short than their own daughter being in the hospital.” 

Jake hates that he wasn’t too surprised to hear that. How ironic that the real people you considered family were here and yet they wouldn’t even let them see you. 

Jake swallows, trying his best to ignore the stickiness of his throat. “Then I guess I’m staying here until then.” 

Javy, Natasha, and Bradley share a look of uncertainty at his words. Certainly, it wasn’t healthy for him to be there all day and all night waiting for your parents to get there. It was Jake’s determined look and sureness that also let them know that there was no talking him out of this. The three make a silent, unspoken pact to watch over the boy until then. 

Jake wasn’t giving up. Not now, not ever. Leaving you was the biggest mistake he has ever made. He was never going to let that happen again. 

Seventy-two hours later and Jake was still left in the dark about your condition. He desperately wanted to sneak into your room and see you. He was close to lying to the nurses and saying he was your cousin if that was what he needed to do. But the rest of his friends convinced him to be patient. Though it hurt, the pain lessened with them around. 

Like clockwork, the group would come to the hospital to wait for any news and to take care of Jake. The mornings would consist of Javy and Natasha bringing Jake a new change of clothes and breakfast. His afternoons were spent with Bradley dragging him back home to take a quick shower while Bob stayed at the hospital until they returned. The first day was like pulling teeth with Jake. The scene would have been quite amusing, if not for the seriousness of their situation. Bradley looked like he was dragging a child through the hospital with how stubborn Jake was being. A quick phone call to Javy had him fixing his attitude. 

“You don’t want the first impression Ace gets of you after so long to be that you stink, do you?” he had said. 

So he reluctantly obliged, returning back to the hospital freshly bathed under 45 minutes flat. 

Jake’s evenings were spent with Mickey and Reuben force feeding him dinner and trying to distract him with mediocre board games. 

The next day, the cycle would repeat. Then again on the next. Their distractions were welcomed and he appreciated how they have been there for the both of you through everything. When night fell and the waiting room emptied, Jake stayed right where he was. 

He would bury himself into the neck of his sweatshirt and try to get as much sleep as he could. Sleep didn’t come easy to Jake. All of the “what if’s” and the fear of missing the moment you’d wake clouded his thoughts to the point where sleep just seemed absolutely impossible. 

The only ones left in the waiting room were the few straggling family members waiting for their loved ones and the nurses who passed by every now and then. The dim lighting and eerie silence, bar the sound of heart monitors and the occasional code call, were more than enough to have the voices in Jake’s head amplify in volume. 

It was his own voice, berating him for not checking up on him sooner. For being hard headed and too full of pride to approach you first. It was Javy’s, telling him that you got into an accident. It was your last I love you. No, not last. He won’t entertain that idea. 

No matter how much he willed himself not to, he couldn’t help but think to the last time the both of you spoke. Jake hated himself for not saying those three words back to you. He never thought that one choice would lead to the possibility of never hearing your voice again, touching your soft skin, or seeing your bright eyes full of life. Of never loving you again. What hurt him the most though, was the possibility that your last thought of him may be that he didn’t love you anymore. That was far from the truth. 

He loved you more than he thought he was capable of loving someone. Jake has had his fair share of girlfriends and flings, but not one of them made him feel the way you did with something as simple as a look in his direction. That’s all it took with you. One look and Jake knew you were it for him. Nothing else mattered. 

Jake hated himself for making you doubt that. Jake hated himself for leaving that night and most of all he hated himself for not saying it back. Now, all he wanted to do was shower you in love and reassure you that despite the sting of your words, he never stopped loving you. He can’t imagine what he would’ve done if he was in your shoes. Right now, he wished he was. If he could be in your place and take your pain, he would. 

But he can’t and if something worse were to happen to you, Jake would be the one to live with that pain and burden. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if it came to that. 

It’s funny to think that three years ago, Jake would have rolled his eyes and scoffed at the image of himself being hopelessly in love. Now you were his everything–the thing he couldn’t imagine his life without. 

It was a miracle that he was able to fall asleep that night with no nightmares. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him because his sleep was so deep that he woke up to Javy frantically shaking his shoulders to get him to wake. 

His eyes snapped open as he came to. His senses readjusted to the environment around him before remembering where he was and why he was there. 

Javy sounded like he was underwater as Jake shook himself awake. His vision finally clears and he sees the rest of his friends already there in the room. A quick glance outside was enough to tell him he slept through breakfast and probably lunchtime too. 

Jake, still feeling groggy, was completely disregarding everything his best friend was saying. He assumed he was being given the same spiel he’s heard for the past three days about needing to eat and take care of himself. 

Then Javy says something that has Jake snapping wide awake. 

He barely gives him another chance to repeat himself before Jake is scrambling to his feet with bleary eyes and disheveled hair. He had no other cares in the world right now other than to confirm that what Javy had said is true. 

The sweet nurse who Jake had familiarized himself with during his stay gently caught him by the wrist and tugged him towards the hall. 

“Her parents got here an hour ago, but since she woke she’s only been asking for you,” Nurse Donna informed him. 

A small flutter works its way around Jake’s rib cage and down to his stomach upon hearing her words. He can no longer contain the nerves that flood through his system as he continues to clumsily follow Donna, tripping over his own feet in the process. 

When Donna finally lets go of his wrist, he stops outside the door marked with your last name for just a moment. Hesitation and fear cloud his mind. Maybe Donna was mistaken. What if you weren’t actually asking for him? What if she had misheard? What if–

“It’s okay, honey. Go see your girl.” Donna urges him with an encouraging smile. 

His girl. God, he missed hearing that. He gives her a small nod of gratitude and exhales softly. Jake’s shaky hand reaches for the silver knob. Giving it a forceful push, he makes his way through the door frame. His feet skid to stop at the threshold and his breath hitches in his throat as he’s met with the sight of those beautiful eyes he’s been praying to see for days on end. 

Two Years Ago 

Jake didn’t understand why you were so cold towards him. You were even able to warm up to his frat brothers Javy and Reuben. He was dying for it to be his turn. It got to the point where Jake would just breathe while standing beside you and you’d let out a loud groan and move beside Bradley. 

Jake hated to admit that he was jealous of Bradley’s ability to get along with you so easily. After your little moment in the library, he thought things between the two of you would be easier, lighter. Instead, it became the absolute opposite and Jake was close to doing something stupid just so you would pay attention to him again. He doesn’t know why, but ever since that day in the library, he found himself desperate for your attention. He was filled with the satisfaction he used to get when flirting with sorority girls. He hasn’t been able to feel that since you. 

He doesn’t know what he did to make you dislike him so much. If only he knew, then maybe he could do something to rectify your predetermined notions of him. 

Even now as he attempted to butter up an Alpha Phi girl, his green eyes were constantly drawn back to your figure on the other side of the aisle. The high pitched voice of the girl in front of him turned into white noise as Jake zeroed in on you. Suddenly, getting this girl to come to the party tonight was the last thing on his mind. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet. If you had, you probably would’ve made a B-line toward the exit already. You were standing on your tiptoes with your tongue slightly poking out from the corner of your mouth. Brows furrowed in concentration, you desperately tried to grab a book on the top shelf. After a lousy first attempt, you try a second time. This time, you rock back on your heels for momentum before launching yourself upwards. Your second try is just as unsuccessful as your first. 

Jake shakes his head with amusement as he watches you try for a third time. Your third attempt was just as successful as the last two, leaving you standing empty handed. 

“Hey, Becky? Why don’t we finish this conversation another time, yeah?” He gently pats the girl on the arm, all while keeping his gaze trained on you. Jake barely waits for the girl’s response, missing her disgruntled correction of, My name’s Brittany! that falls from her lips. 

You’re staring heatedly at the book on the top shelf. He strides over to you, patiently waiting for you to notice him. He stands beside you, also looking up intently at the book, with his arms crossed over his chest. His lips quirk up at the corners as he notes the way your body tenses upon sensing his presence. 

All you do is roll back your shoulders as if preparing for one last jump. Jake stops you before you can even make your attempt. 

“Sit tight, Ace, your savior’s here.” His left hand hovers over the small of your back while he extends his right arm to reach the book you were looking for. An over dramatic sigh leaves his lips as he brings his arm down and hands the book out to you. His green eyes twinkle with delight as you cross your arms in annoyance. 

You turn to meet his gaze, your own stare burning into his. 

Jake’s stomach does the strangest thing upon catching your eye. He suddenly finds himself mesmerized by their beautiful color. The intensity of your stare makes him feel like you can see right through him, all the way into the depths of the most hidden parts of his soul. He could get lost in them if you let him. 

Breaking eye contact at the intensity of his gaze, you scoff, snatching the book from his hands. Swiftly turning on your heels, you make your way toward the end of the aisle. You stop right at the end and pause before turning over your shoulder to see Jake still eyeing you in bewilderment. “Careful on your way out, Seresin. Your head’s getting so big I’m afraid it might be a bit of a tight squeeze.” 

For once, his brain seems to have shut off and he’s unable to think up a cocky or witty remark. He watches you go with intrigue and admiration. His stomach does another somersault as he recalls the exact shade of your eyes and the sway of your hips.

 You are going to be the death of him. 

“Jake?” 

Just like that, he can finally breathe again. Tears gather in his eyes faster than his feet can bring him to the edge of the bed. Jake’s sweeping your hand that’s not hooked up to the IV in his and he lets out a breath of relief at the feeling of your skin on his. A feeling that he was afraid he’d never get to have again. 

“Jake,” you sigh, the moment his hand is in yours. You breathe his name like it was your first full breath of fresh air. It falls from your lips like a prayer. Soft, sweet, and full of conviction. 

He gives himself a moment to scan your body. Jake’s heart fractures even more than he thought was possible given everything he’s been through this past week. Upon seeing the state you were in, anguish crashes down onto his body. His shoulders feel heavy and his knees are weak at the sight of your pretty face all battered and bruised from various hits you took. There’s a nasty gash on your forehead that was barely holding itself together with the bandage that was placed there. Your right arm was in a cast and your left knee was propped up and wrapped up in a bandage of its own. He hopes that this was the worst of your injuries, but he knows that the extent of them goes deeper than what he can see with his naked eye. Your skin was adorned in a variety of scrapes and scratches, all of which Jake desperately wished he could kiss away. 

The shallow movements of your chest and the pained whimper that leaves your lips have him carefully running his other hand over the side of your head, softly soothing you. He bends down to gently rest his forehead against yours and the second his skin makes contact with yours, he’s unable to stop the tears that begin to fall. Jake’s eyes squeeze shut and the heaviness that has been pushing on his chest since the moment he walked away from you finally subsides. His grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly as if to tell himself you’re here, you’re alive, you’re okay. The same words leave him in a hushed whisper that he shares between the two of you. Though they were more of a reassurance for himself. 

A shaky exhale escapes you at his words and the way you’re gasping for air signifies that you’ve started crying as well. Part of it was from the tight pain in your chest and the other from the utter disbelief that this was real–that Jake was really here. 

The first thing you thought of the second you woke was Jake. You were positive that he wasn’t going to be there, but you desperately begged for him anyway. The shock on your parents' faces that clouded your vision quickly turned to disgust as you refused to listen to their words. Your mother had tried to reach out to you, but you thrashed in her touch and frantically shook your head as you cried out for Jake. 

You were in near hysterics and your parents were staring at you in shock and horror but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that they were there when all you wanted was Jake. 

Your mother begged Nurse Donna to sedate you. The sour look on Donna’s face was missed by your mother as she left the room. She thought that Donna had gone to grab the sedative. However, when she returned without a syringe and with a boy, your mother almost fainted. 

You, on the other hand, thought you were dreaming when you saw him walk through that door. You just couldn’t believe that even after everything, Jake was there. Then he touched you and you broke down. His scent invaded you. His touch that you’ve craved like a drug for days on end was finally yours again. The reality that he was there was more than enough to have you breaking down again. 

“I’m sorry,” you slur, still slightly drowsy from the medications. “I’m sorry,” you mutter over and over again as he places his forehead on yours. 

You feel him pull you closer and shush you gently as tears of his own run down his face. You did this. You made him cry. If your limbs weren’t so heavy and numb you would’ve brushed away all the tears that ran down his perfect face until his eyes were finally dry. 

Jake’s elation shatters at your words. You had absolutely nothing to be sorry for right now. If anything, he should be the one on his knees begging for your forgiveness. He opens his mouth to speak before getting cut off by someone in the corner of the room clearing their throat. 

Jake’s attention was so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed your parents standing there this entire time. Hot, white fury fuels him at the sight of them looking more bothered than worried for their daughter. 

“You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend,” your mother practically sneers at him. 

Jake wills himself to pull it together, for your sake. 

“Mom–” you start. 

“How does that make you feel, son? Knowing your girlfriend didn’t tell her own parents about you?” This time, it’s your father who speaks up, eyeing Jake up and down. “Insignificant, I would say.” 

“Dad! Stop it!” 

The stress in your voice is evident and the spike of your heart monitor grabs Jake’s attention. 

You barely had enough strength to defend Jake against their venomous words. He looks at you with wide eyes, asking for your permission to speak to them. Had this been under different circumstances, Jake wouldn’t need to think twice about biting his tongue. He probably would have snapped back at them too if he didn’t notice the unnecessary stress this entire situation was putting on your shoulders. 

You shake your head at him before glancing toward your parents. “Please. Please leave.” You didn’t want them here right now. You didn’t need anyone but Jake right now. 

Offended, your mother scoffs. “You’re choosing a boy over your own parents?” 

This time, Jake decides to jump to your defense. “I believe she asked you to leave.” He looks over his shoulder, narrowing his gaze at your parents who stand unbothered across the room. 

“Why should we listen to you?” Your mother fights back. 

You start feeling lightheaded from the entire situation and you lay your head back, sliding out of Jake’s hold slightly. “Please,” you ask with the little strength you have. 

Noticing the warmth of your skin leaving him, Jake gently follows the movement of your head and cradles it while helping you lower your head to the pillow. His full attention is back on you as he scans you for any more distress. Jake was getting angrier by the minute. Couldn’t your parents see how much stress they were causing you? Why wouldn’t they just leave? He was close to yelling at them now but was saved by Donna entering the room. 

“Your daughter asked you to leave,” she tells them sternly. “Now I suggest you listen before I call security to have you both dragged out of here.” 

Your mother’s jaw drops and your father shakes his head with a scowl. Putting his hands up in surrender, your father is the first to leave. 

Your mother, however, lingers for just a moment more. “I can’t believe we left the Bahamas for this.” She always had to have the last word. 

Once the room is free of their presence you heavily exhale, looking at Donna with a grateful smile.

 She nods with a small smile of her own. “I’ll let you kids have a moment. Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll be right outside in case your parents try to come back.” 

“Thanks, Donna,” Jake sighs, his eyes never leaving yours. 

She winks at the both of you before softly closing the door on her way out. 

“Are you–” the both of you say at the same time. 

You avert your gaze with a nervous chuckle and Jake smiles, urging you to go first. 

You take a moment to observe the boy in front of you. This Jake was not the one you saw the last time. This Jake was tired and worn out. If the dullness of his green eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them weren’t a telltale sign of his exhaustion, it was the paleness of his skin and his sullen cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” You ask timidly. For the first time since you started dating, you find yourself feeling incredibly anxious about him. You were the reason why he looked like this, so empty and void of life. You didn’t even deserve for him to be here right now. 

Jake shakes his head with a sad smile playing on his lips. “You’re the one in a hospital gown and you’re asking if I’m okay?” 

He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you almost cry from the contact. 

“That’s my Ace, always worrying about me.” So much fondness shines in his eyes, causing you to finally break. 

The tears start flowing again, scaring Jake just a little bit. 

“Your Ace?” You sob. Somehow, you knew he had already forgiven you, but you still didn’t think you deserved it. “How can you even stand being here with me after everything I did? I hurt you, Jake. I hurt you and I am so, so sorry.” 

“Hey,” he whispers, softly stroking your hair. “It’s okay.” 

“No, no it’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay!” You hiccup and hiss at the sting it causes in your rib cage. 

“Ace, breathe for me sweetheart, come on.” He gently coaxes you with teary eyes of his own. He needs to hold it together for your sake. He needs to be strong for both of you. 

“It’s not okay,” you sniffle. 

“Shh…” Jake sees how much of a toll this entire thing has taken on you. 

Your eyelids are drooping heavily, but you will to keep them open. You’re afraid that once you close them, you’ll wake up to find that this was all just a dream. That Jake was never really here to begin with and that you were all alone. 

Jake pulls the empty chair that was beneath your bed closer to him and takes a seat. He encapsulates your hand between both of his and brings them to his lips. “It’s okay, Ace. Sleep,” he guides. 

“No.” You tiredly fight against the exhaustion that is threatening to take over. “No.” 

“Sleep,” Jake requests again. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

“You promise?” You whimper. 

“I promise.” He gives your hand another kiss for safe measure, already seeing that your eyes have already begun to close. With his lips still pressed against your skin, he swears, “I’ll be here, Ace. I promise I’m never leaving you again. I love you. So fucking much.” 

Jake doesn’t miss the faint smile that ghosts your lips as sleep finally takes control of your body. 

Two Years Ago 

He finds you lying on the dewy lawn of the Delta Chi house splayed out like a starfish. “What in the…” he mutters to himself as he makes his way towards you. 

Jake stands over you, coming into your vision upside down causing you to giggle. 

“Ace?” 

“Hangman!” You exclaim with a dopey smile on your lips. 

He rolls his eyes at the name and crouches down above you. “What are you doing out here all alone?” 

You sigh dreamily. “Stargazing.” 

Jake catches the scent of cheap beer and jungle juice on your lips, letting him know you were currently far from sober. That makes him worry just a little bit. Last he heard you didn’t drink. You despised it actually. 

“How much have you had to drink?” He asks for safe measures. 

Another giggle erupts from your lips as you hold up all ten of your fingers and even your feet, wiggling your toes in your sandals. “This many.” 

That’s all Jake needs to confirm that you are long gone. “Where’s the rest of your friends?” He glances around looking for any sign of your roommates. All he sees are drunk couples making out on the front porch and the occasional flash of disco lights that escapes through the front windows and open door. 

“Dunno,” is all you say with a lazy shrug. 

Jake sighs, finding himself caught in a dilemma. He had a smoking hot blonde waiting for him to come back inside and bring her upstairs. So why did he feel so guilty about the thought of leaving you out here to fend for yourself? The two of you were hardly even friends, acquaintances at most. He only saw you after your group project because his friends mingled with your circle of friends after miraculously getting along upon meeting each other. 

Yet as he looked down at you staring awe struck up at the sky, he knew he couldn’t just leave you out here alone. Pushing himself off his knees, he groans. “Mind if I join you?” 

You shrug. “Mi casa es tu casa. Or no, wait. Tu casa es mi casa. Get it? Cause this is your house?” You laugh at your own joke. 

Your laughter is infectious, plaguing Jake with a few chuckles of his own. He lays on the damp ground beside you, resting his arms behind his head. “Not really my house, darling. It’s the fraternity’s.” 

“Same thing,” you wave him off. 

The two of you lay there in comfortable silence, watching the night sky. Jake had to admit, this was the most fun he has probably had all night even if you were doing nothing but looking at the sky. 

Out here with you, Jake felt like he could let his guard down. His cocky, playboy, frat boy persona disappeared. When around everyone else, he felt like he was expected to act a certain way but being out here with you, he knew you expected nothing of the sort. 

That was one of the first things that caught him completely off guard when he met you. All it took was one look at him and you were picking him apart, dissecting all of the fronts he put up around others. That’s why you bothered him so much. He barely knew anything about you and somehow, it was like you knew everything about him. You saw through his charms and arrogance, leaving no room for any funny business. 

Jake’s shoulders fall from his ears and he lets himself relax. 

Hearing you shift beside him, he wants to ask you what was on your mind. His curiosity never failed to make itself known when you were around. Again, he knew that you didn’t drink, so why were you absolutely wasted right now? 

The question is on the tip of his tongue, begging to be asked, but he exhales gratefully when you speak up first. 

“My parents are assholes who care about nothing but my grades and their image.” 

He’s not sure if he was meant to hear what you just said or if you realize it’s him that you’re talking to. So he stays quiet and patiently waits for you to continue. 

“It’s parents’ weekend next week and they don’t even bother to answer any of my calls or texts about it. And when I do hear back from them it’s a halfhearted apology that they can’t make because they’re off on the other side of the world.” A dry laugh escapes you. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited them. I knew they weren’t going to show up, whether they were actually here or not. I mean… is it too much to ask for them to just show up and be proud of me?” 

Jake sits up with a frown on his lips upon hearing your voice crack. He hesitates, unsure of what to say. He was never good at the whole comfort thing, especially when it came to crying girls. He used to try to comfort his sisters when they would cry, but he always just seemed to make things worse. He didn’t want to make you feel worse than you already did. “I’m sure they’re proud of you, Ace. They’d be idiots not to be.” 

You scoff, seemingly sobering up just enough to push yourself to sit up beside him. “I guess they’re idiots then.” 

Jake’s mouth runs faster than his brain can manage to keep up.“Hey, at least you have parents. I mean...look at Bradley.” 

That pulls a snort and a teary laugh from you. “Oh my god! Jesus, Seresin…” You’re laughing. You feel bad that you are, but the delivery of Jake’s words was so nonchalant that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You’re insane.” 

He joins in your laughter, glad that he was able to pull your attention from your inner turmoil even if it was just for a minute. “What? Am I wrong?” 

“You’re not, but come on. That was so uncalled for,” you shake your head in amusement. 

Jake sends you a toothy grin, captivated by the way your smile grows. 

“Jake!” The sound of another feminine voice catches both of your attention. The blonde he left inside earlier was running down the porch steps and in their direction. “There you are,” the girl exclaims, throwing her arms around him as she joins him on the ground. She presses an obnoxiously loud kiss to his neck with a smile. “I’ve been waiting for you, Cowboy.” 

As if suddenly realizing where you were and who you were with, you tuck your chin to your sternum and avoid his gaze. He grimaces in the other girl’s hold.“Ace–”

You go to stand, still wobbling from the alcohol but you’re coherent enough to know where you were going. “Looks like duty calls, Hangman.”

The girl gives you a cheeky smile as she moves her lips from his neck to the side of his face.  

He doesn’t miss the somber note of your tone. Jake watches you sway on your feet as you make your way back inside. He wants to reach out to you, beg you to stay but he holds himself back. With a sigh, he pulls the girl who’s clinging to his side up to her feet and flashes her a halfhearted grin. 

Even with his newfound company, Jake couldn’t get you out of his head. 

True to his word, Jake never left your side since you woke up. If the doctor’s needed to personally evaluate your condition, he would step outside but immediately come back in once the doctor gave him the okay. 

Your parents haven’t made another appearance since that first day and you were relieved. Your friends have been in and out of your hospital room once you were moved to the regular hospital floor from Urgent Care. 

Your body was still pretty weak due to the severity of your injuries but you felt stronger than you have in weeks. Being surrounded by your friends, your family, gave you some of that strength back. Most important of all, being with Jake had you feeling invincible. 

The doctors were thrilled with your rate of recovery and predicted you would be discharged in the next couple of days. 

Though Jake kept his promise to you, you still had a sliver of doubt about where the two of you stood relationship wise. You tried to bring it up a couple of times, but Jake would only respond with a shake of his before telling you not to worry about it now. 

You were just a bit afraid that this was his way of letting you down easily. That this was his way of telling you that he loved you, but he just couldn’t be in a relationship with you anymore. 

But then he’d do something as small as brushing your hair gently from your face as you ate or held your hand before you fell asleep at night and that little bit of worry would subside, if only for a moment. 

You’re laughing at Reuben’s lame attempt to sink Nat’s battleship when Jake gives you a quick kiss on the cheek muttering a soft, “I’ll be right back,” into your ear. 

You shoot him a soft smile and nod, before returning your attention to your friends’ antics. 

Meanwhile, Jake makes a quick run to the coffee machine down the hall. He barely makes it five steps there when he runs into someone right outside your door. 

He looks up and almost spews out an apology before realizing exactly who he ran into. 

The look of distaste that falls upon his face is anything but subtle. 

Your mother shares a look with your father, who sneers at the sight of him. 

Being born and raised by his southern gentleman of a father and kind hearted mother, he knew he still had to show some respect towards your parents despite his dislike for them. 

He gives them a nod as a form of greeting and silently prays that they let him slip past them. 

“You should leave now before it gets worse,” your mother speaks up. 

Jake knew he should probably ignore it. Leave your mother without the satisfaction of getting under his skin. But he couldn’t. He stops in his tracks. Glaring at them from over his shoulder, he hissed, “Excuse me?” 

Your mother only shrugs, pulling her handbag tighter over her shoulder. “She’s not worth your time or the trouble. Trust us. As her parents, we would know. How does it make you feel? Knowing you must mean so little to her that she didn’t even mention your existence to her parents.”

Jake was finally tired of biting his tongue. No one, not even your own parents, talked about you like that. Not if he could help it. “With all due respect, I know she didn’t tell you about me and frankly, I don’t blame her considering the way you treat your daughter. Besides, how would either of you know anything? You’re never here so you’d never know just how worth it your daughter is. I would walk through hell for her. Something I know neither of you would ever do.

So no, you don’t know. You don't know just how thoughtful and sweet and caring she is. You don’t know just how incredibly smart she is. Most of all, you would never understand that she is worth everything.” 

Jake is breathless at the end of his speech. His chest heaves as he catches his breath and harshly swallows from his passionate spiel. You were everything and the idea that anyone would think otherwise astonished him. 

Your mother barely bats an eye. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind completely taking her off our hands then. Considering she moved so far away from us for college, you can tell my daughter to not even bother coming back home to visit us because apparently, we’re never here for her anyway.” She storms past Jake in suppressed fury, muttering to herself, “The Bahamas!” 

Your father, on the other hand, pauses for a moment. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something and glances through the doorway before looking back at Jake and clearing his throat. “Just, um, just tell her the hospital bill will be taken care of once it comes in the mail.” He gives one last look at your hospital room before scurrying in the same direction your mother had gone. 

A sigh of relief escapes Jake’s lips from the encounter, diminishing his prior craving for caffeine. 

He makes his way back into the room to see three pairs of eyes settled on him. Jake’s a bit unnerved at all the attention he’s receiving and he’s slightly confused by the way Nat, Reuben, and you were all staring at him. 

He nervously chuckles, running a hand down the back of his neck. 

Reuben suddenly stands up, grabbing his battleship board. “I think we should continue this outside, right Nat?” 

She nods with a smile grabbing her board as well. “Yeah, let’s. We’ll give you two a minute.” Natasha squeezes your hand as she ushers out of the room. 

Jake shifts back and forth on his feet, feeling a heat of embarrassment flow through him. “You heard all of that, didn’t you?” 

A look he can’t fully decipher on your face. “Yeah, I did.” 

“I am so sorry if I crossed a line I just—“

“I love you.” You cut him off teary eyed. 

“What?” He breathes, the wideness of his growing smile no longer contained. 

You give him a smile of your own that matches the look of love and pure happiness that lights up his features. “I said I love you. I heard you, that first night you stayed over but I was too afraid to say it back. Just in case you didn’t mean it the way I did anymore. But then you…” 

Jake cups your face in his hands, nodding to encourage you to take your time. 

“But then I heard what you said to my parents and no one has ever stood up for me that way.” 

His thumbs begin to trace gentle patterns onto the apples of your cheeks. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise.” A tear finally escapes from the corner of your eye that gets gently pressed away by Jake’s lips. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt my love.” 

You shake your head, desperately hoping he understands that none of that matters now. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. I love you, Jake Seresin.” 

Finally, after days of waiting, he kisses you softly on the lips. It’s not rough or hungry, despite how long he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s soft, delicate, and full of love. It’s passionate and heartwarming. It’s the kind that you could feel all the way to the tips of your toes. Just like the first time. 

“I love you, Ace. You’ll never have to doubt that again.” 

Your relationship, just like your body, wasn’t one hundred percent healed. There were still many things the two of you had to talk about. 

However, knowing that Jake loved you didn’t make the unspoken parts so scary. Having him, loving him, is enough. 

a/n: a super duper, huge thank you to @blue-aconite for beta reading and being just the best support system through this entire journey <3 she even swayed my original plans for this so you should thank her for jake and ace getting back together sooner that anticipated lol as usual, reblogs, feedback, and comments are all greatly appreciated and the inbox is always open

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[hobies-princealbert]

Hi!! Omg i wanna say ur hc’s and fics are sooo good whaaat pls pat urself on the back bc u ate that!!!? I really enjoyed your fontaine bf hcs but i was wondering if u could do some nsfw bf hcs for him. Hes just so 😫😫😫😫

awwww yall go make me blush. thank you very much though it's means alot that to you enjoy my works.

ﾟ+.ヽ(≧▽≦)ﾉ.+ﾟ

"taine, you a down bad munch" | fontaine x reader (nsfw)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♡▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

♡ fontaine is versatile when it comes to sex. whatever you want, as long as he's down he'll do it. can be rough as hell if you want. he's talking hand prints on your ass, running mascara, bruised hips, raspy screams. all you gotta do is give him the go ahead.

♡ can also be very sappy when you need him to be. not candle light and rose petals sappy. but he'll hold your hand, kiss your wrists, rub your back, just anything you need to get you closer to release. he'll do it. after all, he's here's to make his girl feel good, and he wouldn't be able to get a good night's sleep knowing you weren't at least shedding a couple tears by the time he's done.

♡ he loves to talk his shit. if your shy and don't say much, don't worry he'll get a couple words outta you. he's a big tease too, and will edge you for hours just for you to say one word. he wants you confident enough to ask for what you want, and what you don't want from him. he really does prioritize communication alot.

♡ if you already love to talk your shit, he'll be putty in your hands. loves someone who can boss him around every now and then. tell him where to touch and how to touch, he'll adore you.

♡ loves when you get really soft on him. stroke his cheek, kiss all over his face, even tell him you love him. hell, it's enough to make a nigga blush.

♡ loves car sex. will pull into an alleyway, day or night, and have your heels digging into his dash board. it's a tight space, little to no distractions, and semi public, all the things that gets his motor going (pun intended).

♡ a veteran munch. and he's gangsta enough to admit it. and if someone call him corny, he'll just laugh. cuz he knows a nigga that can't get pussy ain't running his mouth about it. you loveee his munch tendencies, even when he gets the itch at the most inopportune times.

you opened the door to your apartment, just to see taine standing in the hallway. you stare at him confused for a bit, cause wtf. "taine? what the hell you doin' here, it's almos' one in the damn morning?"

"i texted you earlier sayin' 'm comin' over, didn't i?" he did. but that was earlier in the day. once it passed 10pm you thought he got caught up with something, so you took your ass to bed. but you should've known better, taine always keeps his word.

not even giving you time to cuss his ass out, a pair of familiar hands grabbed at your waist, and lifted you off the ground. he kicked the door close, placed you on the nearest soft surface he could find. as you felt your legs being lifted onto his shoulders, you knew exactly why he was here now.

"taine, you a down bad munch" you smirked as he grumbles how tight these damn shorts are, as he desperately tries to get them off.

"yea yea talk all the shi' you wan'. hope you can stil' talk all that' shi' by the time I'm done"

♡ fucking panty thief. what can he say he has a thing for keeping souvenirs, especially if it was a good fuck. he has no shame with it. will slide them down your legs while he's getting dressed, and just stuffs them into his back pocket. and he don't wanna hear it. not like you can protest anyways, you're too fucked out to agrue with him.

♡ loves loves loves when you leave marks on him. the man has a possession kink, that's for sure. bite marks on his shoulders, hickeys on his neck and scratches all over his forearms and back. the man wears them like a badge on honor. And if anyone asks, he grows the most shit eating grin and tell em his girl left him some keepsakes.

♡ and speaking of possessive. if you're in a situationship with this man, or yall haven't cuffed each other yet, either way don't you even think about dealing with another nigga. taine would never be able to tolerate the idea of another dick drilling into your cunt. as far as he's concerned, he's the only one who knows how to make you feel good. good enough to make a blabbering, shaking mess of yourself.

♡ is his girl that greedy that he alone can't satisfy her? well shit, guess he gonna have to convince you other wise. cause to him, with way your cunt clenches around him, she knows he's the only one for you. but it's like your brain hasn't got the memo yet. don't worry he'll fix it.

(and if he ever found that man you fucking with, guess he's breaking another pair of legs. he doesn't like sharing. at all. just the idea pisses him off already.)

♡ his aftercare is decent. he's not to be overly affectionate post nut. he doesn't mind a nice cuddle session though. and he's sweet enough to remember to carry you to the bathroom, so you can pee.

"want some water? sure thing ma"

"hungry? what ya feeling for baby, want me to order take out or sumthin'?"

♡ he'll even have a warm, damp towel on hand to wipe you down, if you want him to.

[jerzwriter]

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick x Casey - eventually 😊, Ethan Ramsey Rating: Teen Words: 1,900 Series Summary: Can be found here. Chapter Summary: A confused Tobias heads to his old watering hole to relax, but uninvited self-reflection gets in his way. He finally gets it under control when Ethan shows up, and the visit isn't necessarily friendly. How does the night end... and who isn't being truthful. A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I'm really enjoying exploring this point of Tobias & Casey's relationship. Participating in @choicesfebruary2024 - Philia (Friendship), a little Eros (Romantic/Passionate) too. :)

Without Warning Masterlist | Tobias x Casey Masterlist My Full Masterlist

Eight Weeks After Chemical Attack

“Uh-oh, look what the wind blew in!” The stout, grey-haired man behind beamed as if he saw a long-lost friend. “Get over here, you bum! Where the hell have you been?”

The Puddingstone Tavern was to Kenmore what Donahue’s was to Edenbrook, and for nearly a decade, Tobias all but lived there. His signature smirk was firmly in place as he sauntered to the bar like a king returning to his domain.

“Has it been that long, Charlie?” Tobias said, vigorously shaking the man’s hand. “I was here last Tuesday, for Christ’s sake.”

Charlie made a show of pulling the calendar down from the wall and turned to Tobias with a grin.

“Last Tuesday, and if this thing is correct, today is Thursday. So, nine days! You’ve been MIA for nine days, and we didn’t see you for a week before that. We’re used to you being here after every shift. What happened? Was it something I said?”

 “You know I don’t scare easily. It would take much more than you to scare me away.”  

“So then, what’s the story?” Charlie pressed, placing Tobias’s favorite beer in front of him just as a dark-haired waitress with crystal blue eyes passed, eager to insert herself into the conversation.

“Word on the street is Carrick has a girlfriend,” she teased. 

“A girlfriend? A girlfriend!” Charlie’s belly shook when he broke into a hearty laugh. “Oh, God! That’s a good one. A decade he’s been comin’ here, and I’ve never seen the same woman on his arm more than once.”

“Now that’s a damn lie,” Tobias defended. “I brought a few of them here twice. I think one even made it three.”  

“Sure,” Charlie shrugged. “But normally, we'd see you with a different one between their visits. I’d believe you were abducted by aliens before I’d believe you had a girlfriend. A girlfriend,” Charlie was so busy snickering he hadn’t noticed that Tobias was no longer laughing along.

“Yeah...” Tobias smiled sadly, “Could you just imagine?”

Charlie left to tend to another patron, leaving Tobias alone with his thoughts. He couldn't even say why he hadn’t been there? It wasn't Casey. He only saw her once, all right, maybe twice a week. Sure, they texted most nights, but that was no reason to stay away. No matter, he reminded himself, she was not his girlfriend. That much he knew was true. So, it was absurd to think she had anything to do with this.

He tried to shift his focus, but Charlie’s barrelling laughter kept replaying in Tobias’s mind. “A girlfriend? A girlfriend!... I’d believe you were abducted by aliens before I’d believe you had a girlfriend!”  Was it that preposterous an idea? Sure, he would have thought it was himself not too long ago. In fact, he would have worn it as a badge of honor, but he felt differently now. Now... it stung. Did anyone think that he had the emotional capacity to be anything other than a fuckboy?

He closed his eyes and took in a whiff of the stale, familiar air. It felt like home, and he should be comfortable here; but he found himself terribly out of place. Eager for a distraction, he reached over the bar to grab the remote control and put on the Celtics game. That would do it! Leaning back in his chair, he was beginning to feel at ease, but not for very long.

Two basketball quarters and two drinks in, Tobias heard heavy footsteps approaching on the worn wooden floor. He didn’t notice when they stopped behind him, but the baritone voice that followed couldn’t be ignored.

Ethan glanced over Tobias’s shoulder and rolled his eyes. “You always did have shit taste in booze.”

Tobias turned, successfully hiding his astonishment.

“This is a New Belgium Trippel,” Tobias said. "It's one of the best craft beers out there.”

“Exactly. A craft beer.” Ethan motioned for the bartender. “What’s the best Scotch in the house.”

“That would be Johnny Walker Blue.”

“I’ll take that,” Ethan nodded. “Neat.”

Tobias waited until Ethan had his drink in hand before he began a conversation. They’d spoken exactly once since the night of the attack, and while the hatchet was buried, the men were miles away from being friends.

“So, what brings you here,” Tobias asked. “You have something going on at Kenmore?”

“No, I just had it on good counsel that you’d be here tonight.”

Tobias raised a brow. “Spying on me? I don’t know... should I be flattered or frightened, Ramsey."

“You shouldn’t be either.”

“Ah! So, you’ve come to offer me a job?” Tobias snickered. “I knew you’d come begging one day.”

“No,” Ethan chortled. “We’re still awake, Carrick. This isn’t a dream.”

“So, then, why did you come to see me?”

Ethan inhaled deeply, taking a long sip of his drink as he pondered if this had been a good idea. Assuring himself he came for a reason, he continued.

“There’s no use beating around the bush. I’ve heard you and Casey have been spending a lot of time together since the attack."

He may have been able to hide his surprise before, but Tobias made no attempt to hide his expression this time, and he was not pleased.

“Whoa... whoa...whoa... Look, I don’t know if you’re keeping tabs on me or on Casey, but either way it’s fucked up. What either of us does with our time is none of your concern.”

“Actually, it is,” Ethan shot back. “Casey... Casey’s on my team, and her well-being matters to me.”

Tobias raised his beer to his smirking lips. “That’s a little above and beyond for a boss-employee relationship. Wouldn't you say? If we're being honest tonight, you may as well admit that she was much more than a resident to you.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide, the his discomfort was palpable. Somehow, both things left Tobias pleased.

“You... you know...about us," Ethan stammered.

“Look, even if Casey hadn’t told me... it wasn’t exactly a well-guarded secret. You underestimate the Boston hospital grapevine.”

Ethan focused on the back of the bar, his face turning red, though he was unsure if anger or embarrassment was the cause.

“Was." Ethan said sternly. "Whatever Casey and I shared is in the past. But she still matters to me. She’ll never be ‘just’ a teammate.”

“OK,” Tobias shrugged. “And what does any of this have to do with me.”

“I’m aware of your... history... Carrick. I know how much you hurt Casey after you stole Stefanie out from under her. But, for some reason, she still had a soft spot for you. And now... with her being so... fragile... I'm just here to tell you - don't take advantage of that, Tobias. Because if you do, you'll have to deal with me."

Tobias stared at his beer, shaking his head with a wicked chuckle.

“That's rich! That is rich coming from you, given your history. What’s the matter, Ethan? Were you planning on making a move yourself? Trying to get any potential competition out of the way?”

Ethan felt his pulse quickening as his lips formed into a line.  

“She’s coping with PTSD, Carrick. I’d never do such a thing.”

“Yeah, so once again, you’re the Boy Scout, and I’m some degenerate. You’re not the only one with decency, Ethan, and I’m through letting you believe that you are. I don’t owe you any explanation, but nothing is going on between Casey and me. I care about her; I care about her a lot. She’s a friend who is going through hell right now, and I’m doing all I can to help her... not take advantage of her.”

It had been years since he and Tobias had been friends, but Ethan could still tell when there was sincerity in his eyes; he could see and hear its presence now, and that put him at ease. The hurt in Tobias’s eyes and the sincerity in his voice put Ethan at ease.

“Good. That's all I wanted to know."

Both men pretended to focus on the game as an awkward silence fell between them. It was Tobias who eventually broke the standoff; rubbing his chin, he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Ethan, I’m glad things are civil between us again, I really am. But the dirt has barely covered the big hatchet we just buried... and you have to go and do this? Don't you see you're overstepping, man...”

"You're right..." Ethan agreed, looking slightly abashed. "I did overstep... and deep down, I knew that coming in. But honestly, protecting Casey mattered more to me than upsetting you or making a fool of myself. So I did what I felt was best.”

“Protecting her... from me?”

“All right, Carrick... give up the alter boy routine. Can you blame me? If you care about her as much as you say, you would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes.”

Tobias shook his head with a sad smile. “You know, I’m far from perfect. No one is. And I’m not saying I haven’t done some messed up shit in the past, but preying on vulnerable women has never been my style, and you know that."

Ethan diverted his eyes, with a question lingering in his mind that needed to be spoken.

“Why her? You’ve been with god knows how many women. Why is Casey the one you can't let go of?”

“Do you think this is because of you?” Tobias blurted. “Because it’s not... it has nothing to do with you. Casey... she's just incredible. She’s absolutely beautiful, and I’m talking about the inside, not the out. She’s brilliant, funny, and kind, and when you’re with her, she makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world... and I’m not talking about me... she makes everyone feel that way. She sees the best in people when most want to focus on their flaws. She’s kind enough to give a jackass like me a second chance to be her friend...and there’s no way I’m going to blow that.”

Ethan gazed at Tobias with a knowing half-smile.

“Sure, but you’re not in love with her.”

Tobias swallowed hard, quietly shaking his head. “We’re friends, Ethan... we’re just friends,” he repeated, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure if he was convincing Ethan or himself. “ And what about you?”

“What do you mean...what about me?”

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes,” Ethan replied. “But not in that way. She matters to me, and she always will. I know I hurt her in the past, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. After everything that happened recently? I suppose I'm a bit overprotective.”

“Yeah... I get that. I get all of that.”

Ethan picked up his glass with a smile. “We always did have more in common than we liked to believe.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let word get out on the street. I have a reputation to uphold, and I don’t need you tarnishing it.”

“Oh, is that so?” Ethan laughed. “Imagine me tarnishing you?”

Tobias met his eyes, and both men chuckled.

“So,” Ethan said. “Are we... still good?”

Tobias shrugged. “You care about her and want to protect her. I want to do the same, so how can I fault you?”

Ethan nodded uncomfortably.  “Well, I should settle my tab...”

“Why? The night is young, and the Celtics are about to go into the last quarter. Why don’t you stay and watch with me.”

“Really?”

“No,” Tobias rolled his eyes. “Yes, really.”

“All right,” Ethan said, sliding back onto his stool. He motioned for another drink, and when it arrived, he raised it to Tobias.

“Cheers,” Ethan smiled.

“Cheers.”

Both took a long drink, then Tobias turned to his... friend?

“Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Ethan snorted in reply. “Not if you keep saying shit like that. You're not exactly Bogart, Carrick."

The men remained at the bar for at least another hour without an ounce of tension between them, and though they’d never admit it, that made them both happy. When Tobias returned home, he checked his messages one last time after slipping into bed. A smile he hadn’t felt coming spread across his face the moment he saw her name.

He turned off the light on his nightstand but continued staring at Casey's message for some time. Finally putting the phone down, he made himself comfortable. We're just friends, he repeated to himself. He had promised her, just friends, and that's what they would stay... but he was beginning to realize just how how hard that would be.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[klonoadreams]

Is scarnoa gonna do all 3 paths? Of so which ones does she prioritize?

Oooh, that's actually an interesting question -let me go on a long ass rambling because this is all relevant (I'm honest i'm totally normal about this lmao)

So the thing about this, is that the most OPTIMAL path, is to go in a specific order based on levels.

Katy is the first one you should typically start with, before trekking over yonder to the east.

Scarnoa doesn't have any specific priority beyond the Gym Badges (though do keep in mind that she DOES get distracted often, so oops), but uhh, I will be tweaking things so that she ends up having more reason why she keeps going all over the place. She went first with Katy after taking a detour and ending up in the marsh that Arven found her at (because she was looking for FLAMIGO), because he was looking for a Pokemon to take down Klawf - he can't fight them with a Skwovet, lmao, but then got a call for Arven afterwards (since he was training up that Shellder he caught), and decided "OKAY!!!" and boom, Titan down. Checks map "Oh, gym is near, let's go!!"

by the by, in case anyone needs a confirmation of where you can catch Shellder:

You can find some in the area by that marsh where Flamigo like to pop up. How did Scarnoa end up there so early???

girlbossed (backwards jump LETS GOO jk jk) too hard and ended up someplace she wasn't supposed to be so early (Arven isn't supposed to be there, but obviously, we have to admit that he has SOME badges to ensure that the Pokemon he catches don't start disobeying him - some of them DO give him issues, but it's not so bad as it WOULD"VE been WITHOUT the badges. I like to think of these things as being strength checks that make POkemon go "yeah, I'm down following you, let's go kick ass")

Wins another badge, gets a call from Arven AGAIN, who is most likely far too eager by now, because something changed with his Mabosstiff, so Scarnoa is ON THE WAY (forgetting that she can mcfucking call a taxi vhfelkjbvklfb), anyways Arven's just "what the fuck, that was like five days ago, WHERE WERE YOU I THOUGHT YOU DIED"

(an exaggeration, but it's concerning that she wasn't answering his texts. First thinks its his rotom being a brat - no, Scarnoa just spoils her Rotom too much)

(but also, Arven has LITERALLY had to fish her out of the mud when their paths crossed in that marsh - literally just saw her fall face first like SPLAT, while her Koraidon watches with a guilty look on their face - he now questions her self preservation skills)

because her Rotom kept leaving her phone to eat food - they got distracted by Mesagoza food on the way back to the west gate. Also Scarnoa keeps forgetting she has a dorm, so it's the outdoors life for most of them (They OBVIOUSLY have rest stops scattered throughout the place, around the Pokemon Centers, where you can shower and just wash clothes vhejkvhf jSHHHH)

anyways after ghosting Arven for five days straight, BOOM, big birdy down and then Cassiopeia, getting impatient because every so often, they check on Scarnoa, and she's like...either eating dirt because she SUCKS at stopping on Koraidon or just GETTING DISTRACTED BY FOOD, GOD DAMN HOW MUCH DO YOU EAT.

And just, "You're by this Team Star Base, if you want access to your social media accounts to continue shitposting your misadventures, you got a week to kick that boss's ass"

Scarnoa: Lmao, okay.

She goes over a week anyways because she kept getting distracted and sleeping in. But she still makes it to the base. Cassiopeia has to try harder after that, because now that she KNOWS Scarnoa's Rotom Phone is like SUPER casual after getting spoiled to all hell, she needs to try different tactics. Like "no more wifi for you if you don't make it here - don't make me do it"

and while Scarnoa WOULD forget, her Rotom Phone won't and will start picking up the pace lmaooo.

Anyways Cassiopeia has to literally REMIND Scarnoa that there is a Team Star base by one of the fly points she has registered to her phone, and tells her to use it "PLEASE, for your own sake too."

Anyways that's Scarnoa's first experience with the Squawkabilly Taxi and while unpleasant, she got to pet the birds :V

And while going straight to Mela WOULD be her top priority, Scarnoa got distracted, lost (literally cannot read a fucking map) and ended up in Levincia, where she's all "oh hey, a gym."

Cassiopeia (*cough*Penny*cough) eating ramen in her room, just catching up on anime, when she gets notifications that Iono is streaming another Gym Battle and WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

anyways badge get, Scarnoa's getting popular, with Cassiopeia immediately seeing some red flags and QUICKLY moderating her followers on SIGHT. (SHE NEEDS SCARNOA DAMMIT)

Anyways Clive's the one who drags Scarnoa to Mela that time. Which is hilarious. But also, "Please, I beg of you - TAKE HER TO THIS BASE. She keeps getting LOST."

And oops, Cassiopeia's a little late there, because Clavell was out and about, and after seeing Scarnoa get her third gym badge, after taking down Giacomo, he's like "alright you, that's enough hooky for you. Time to go back to school."

Cassiopeia wondering why they don't just give Scarnoa the equivalent of zoom classes that she's taking. Anyways, as soon as Scarnoa is mcfucking done with her remedial classes, and stuff, her ass is back to Mela and that is REALLY when Arven calls up again, so TIME TO TAKE DOWN A WORM.

And the hilarious thing is, Scarnoa was going to book it IMMEDIATELY to Atticus, but Cassiopeia went "HELL NO, GET ANOTEHR BADGE - idk, Kofu or some shit. Atticus will literally kick your teeth in."

meanwhile Nemona's just dropping by every so often for a battle, somewhat intrigued that Scarnoa is taking the recommended path instead of doing what she did, and strong arming her way through everything and that's how Kofu was her second badge right after Katy...and how Larry ended up as her third badge. :V (she got Brassius and Iono afterwards, and somehow, by chance, she corrected her path with Ryme, Tulip, and Grusha after getting a tip from Geeta, seeing as she has HEARD from Larry about his unconventional challenger)

Nemona: You sure do know your stuff about the recommended path!!

Scarnoa: The what.

(fun fact, I ended up in Tulip's area completely by chance after I was on a fucking around and collecting items spree and oop)

Anyways, again - Scarnoa's priority is badges, but she keeps getting yanked from one place to the next. Eventually, she does start prioritizing Titans at some point, but she then uses her badges to ensure she's strong enough to go into areas that were giving her difficulty...after some "gentle persuasion" from Cassiopeia too, helping her out in that sense because Scarnoa is NOWHERE near ready to take on any of the bosses after Atticus.

(keep in mind, Scarnoa rarely loses, and when she loses, she usually gets her shit kicked in if it's against Wild Pokemon, like Koraidon HAS had to pick her up and GTFO out of there)

(even Arven has to convince her otherwise, since they got their shit kicked in by Tatsugiri and Dondozo)

(he is still very touched that she wants to help him, but his heart honestly can't take anymore risks after one of them NEARLY drowned - Tatsugiri/Dondozo is a deadly duo :V)

[griim]

@castshed liked

“Sorry, nothing personal, buddy. But I got a job to do.” Pulling the trigger, the man fell to the ground, least it was a quick death. No torture this time. searching his pockets, she found the flash drive, “thank you… I'm su-” As she finished searching him for anything else, she saw the badge, ‘CIA? Fuck… Mav, what the hell did you pull me into.’ That was the last fucking thing she needed right now, the government breathing down her damn back. Gemma tried to make as little noise with big brother as possible, but now that she not only killed an agent, it seemed she now had a flash drive with who knows what on it. She might have bitten off more than she could chew, ‘You are going to owe me triple the pay… You didn’t tell me government officials owned this drive.’ Sighing, she quickly dragged the body out of sight, and hopefully, someone would find the body hours later, when she was long gone. Glancing around, she hoped it was nothing more than someone's dirty porn stash. However, the more she thinks about it. It is not looking like it was something as simple as that.

As she set the body up, she noticed someone coming, “Fuck… Sorry, buddy, gotta go.” Gemma began to run, hoping not to have caught the man's attention. Turning a corner, she slipped in with the crowd of people on the street, hoping to lose the person if they were following. Grabbing her phone, she began to type a text, though noticed there were more oddly dressed people, ‘great.’ Stashing the drive in her pocket, she kept her head low, and as she did, she bumped into someone. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you…” Gemma laughed, “Guess I need to watch where I am going, huh?” If she could play off the innocent civilian, maybe she could get away with this and have a long talk with Maverick.

[mamorukoto]

REALLY  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.    RULES.  repost ,   don’t  reblog  !    tag  10  !good  luck  !    TAGGED.  @deusuprema (tHANK YOU!!1)    TAGGING. @xyuuken @mamasakii @ikiborn @l-promised-him @kishire @flashkitty @gavestrength @elvaliiente @fractusanima and like - anyone else WHO WANTS TO I DON’T KNOW WHO’S DONE THIS ACTUALLY

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  Ichigo Kurosaki NICKNAME :   Itsygo(By Nel), ‘Kurosaki’, ‘Boke(By Rukia)’, ‘King’(By his hollow). AGE :   Seventeen. BIRTHDAY :   July 15th. ETHNIC  GROUP :   Asiatic. NATIONALITY :   Japanese, assumed European/Germanic descent because of Quincy heritage. LANGUAGE / S :   Japanese, can understand some English. SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Demisexual ( ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :   Stupid I mean Demiromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :   Single/Married in the future. CLASS :   some fucking number in Karakura High School HOME  TOWN / AREA :    Karakura, Japan CURRENT  HOME :   Kurosaki Clinic PROFESSION :   Employee of the Unagiya shop/Substitute Shinigami.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR :  Choppy ridiculous mess of literally the colour ‘orange’ going every damn way on his head. EYES :  Dark amber, or dull, muddy-red brown, like someone bled too much in a pile of dirt and it got mixed up. NOSE :  Bishonen ™ FACE :    Youthful, with a fairly defined chin and decent cheekbones, but because of his dorky bangs he looks his age just fine. LIPS :   how can anyone see them he’s always facking snarling. COMPLEXION :  PEACH BUN. BLEMISHES :   Bishonen ™ SCARS :   He forgets to keep them or uses a whole lot of concealer idk TATTOOS :  blessed hell no HEIGHT :   181 cm (5′11′’ and a half) WEIGHT :     66 kg (145 pounds.) BUILD :  Well-built ectomorph, has no ass. FEATURES :  expressive af eyes and can make the most hella upsidedown D face I’ve ever seen  ALLERGIES :  i hope not USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :   'i woke up like this but i’m still hot’.   USUAL  FACE  LOOK :   like someone pissed off the local yakuza prince, all the way down to a big fucking baby USUAL  CLOTHING :    A school uniform, shinigami robes or .. like.. his street clothes are usually pretty trendy if not sometimes really hipster-gay.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :   Not being strong enough to protect those he cares for, breaking promises, hopelessness, uselessness. ASPIRATION / S :   Having the strength not to have to fight. POSITIVE  TRAITS :   Intuitive, empathetic, in-discriminating, responsible, caring, pro-active NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  Reckless, head-strong, over-eager, naive at times, martyristic, neurotic ZODIAC :   Cancer. TEMPEREMENT :    Melancholic. SOUL  TYPE / S :    Helper/Leader. ANIMALS :   apparently he’s a black and white neurotic antelope-goat which explains the horns I guess (Sable.)          I usually say a dumb lizard. VICE  HABIT / S :   he’s pretty pure. FAITH :   fuck you GHOSTS ? :   Uh AFTERLIFE ? :  well REINCARNATION ? : nO ALIENS ? :   fucking hell POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  is like the definition of politically neutral ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  is a teenage boy guess SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION :  ... student EDUCATION  LEVEL :   High-school - in the future who knows.

FAMILY.

FATHER :   Isshin Kurosaki. MOTHER :    Masaki Kurosaki. SIBLINGS :  Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki. EXTENDED  FAMILY :    has three pet Hollows NAME  MEANING / S :   Claims it means ‘First Guardian Angel’, but has been told it means ‘He who protects’, also strawberry, always strawberry. HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :  is apparently the darkness child of the quincy king and also the cause of so much shit but otherwise nah.

FAVORITES.

BOOK :   he actually studies a lot so I bet he’d enjoy calmer series. MOVIE :    he probably watches shonen anime in secret. 5 a SONGS :   Unity - Shinedown, DEITY :   kami-sama or some shit HOLIDAY :   His sister’s birthdays. MONTH :   June. SEASON :   Winter. PLACE :   His own house. WEATHER :    Rain. SOUND :   Laughter of friends. SCENT / S :    Clean scents, or woodish. TASTE / S :    Prefers sweet or salty. FEEL / S :    Soft stuff, actually enjoys being comfortable contrary to popular belief. ANIMAL / S :  Has this thing with cats. NUMBER :  Fifteen. COLORS :   Black, White, Gold, Orange.

EXTRA.

TALENTS :   Is actually rather intellectual despite his appearance, and has the best grades in his classes regardless of how much sleep or time he gets, is incredibly intuitive and can read situations with ease and act immediately according to his impressions. Has a knack for combat and a charismatic nature, making it easy to make bonds regardless of background or meeting. BAD  AT :   everything else - no he’s actually quite the prodigy in most things besides social etiquette. TURN  ONS :  Touch his shoulders I dare you, he carries all his weight, metaphorically and physically, on those fuckers, sensitive af. Otherwise he’s p much a vanilla piece of shit and doesn’t know. TURN  OFFS :   like don’t bite it off or anything?? HOBBIES :   His part-time job, caring for his sisters, helping them with their academic pursuits, hanging out with bad crowds, ect. TROPES :   Bad Powers, Good people. AESTHETIC  TAGS :  Rainfall, Cityscape, Mask, Tower, Chariot, Skull, Broken glass, Monochromatic, Storm, Shield, Drowning, emo af wow. GPOY  QUOTES :    “I'll fight for myself. Thank you, Zangetsu. You are me.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?       A1 :   I’d honestly just like more interpersonal interaction with just about all the characters, since I’m a slut for that kinda thing, so basically it would just be .. this roleplay blog, full of crack and typos. Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?          A2 :  A bullshit mix of alternative rock and softcore taiko drum music. Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?       A3 :  Honestly I didn’t at first, the bae actually had Ichigo and I played other characters from the series, but after a while I took him on because he was actually a lot more like me than I initially thought. Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?          A4 :  He frustrated me a little at first, but seeing his dumb ass chillax a little after the timeskip actually hurt me more than anything and I fell in love with his stupid lack of rear end. Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.           A5 :  He’s a kid, so people underestimate the kinds of things he can comprehend, since everyone in the series is normally like 300+ years older than him, but he can keep up with these crazy megalomaniacs and still keep his original ideals... but SOMETIMES HE DOESN’T AND SHOWS ‘yep he’s like 17′ and I want to punch him. Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?          A6 :   we both have no butts and are really protective. Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?          A7 :   he puts me in a box and shakes me sometimes. Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?        A8 :   I really love his interactions with his family, people like Ryuuken, and of course the Arrancar - I always love him talking to the villains, but ... everyone, just, everyone. Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?        A9 :  Music and hopelessness. Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?         A10 :   thanks to the internet the whole fucking day?

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[clown-moss]

I'm really fucking bored so imma post all the random shit our N fictive has done/does and play it off as headcanons.

This man does not know how to use a knife and fork, he uses his bare hands like the feral man he is. He had to text a close friend of his at a fancy dinner to ask how to use a knife and fork because he genuinely didn't know how to without scraping the plate.

N was chess champion at a place for years and was never beaten and still was never beaten until he had to leave permanently, he gave the title to some other kid but he wore that championship like a fucking badge.

He's read the Bible, he enjoyed it thoroughly. That's all I need to say really.

This man will manipulate you in every single game imaginable, even games you wouldn't think it'd be possible to be manipulated in. I've never seen this man lose in a match of Monopoly, doesn't matter the board or type of monopoly he'll kick your ass in it (also he only uses the dog piece, it doesn't matter which game he'll always use the animal piece.) He's so good at games that a friend of his drew this amazing photo to show his luck with winning.

He'll just make random animal noises, whenever he goes on his walks if a dog barks at him he just... Barks back. He replies to anything with animal chirps or noises if he trusts you enough that he knows you won't judge him, his cat noises get so accurate that it actually attracts cats and grabs the attention of cat ladies. He tilts his head to the side like a bird whenever he's confused, not only that but he can actually purr, like genuinely. He can mimic purring and it freaked the fuck out of a friend once, he can also growl as well but that's not as impressive as the purring.

Sometimes he walks on his toes or heels and if he's laying in a place that he feels safe in/and or soft his feet will mimic the action of cats making biscuits, sometimes he doesn't even notice he's doing it. He also wears a necklace that has a little bell on it so whenever he's bored or overstimulated he'll just fidget with the bell, it's very effective but very annoying if he rings it right.

In public I hope you're not socially awkward because this man has gone up to random people (kids to adults) and complimented their style, he has shouted across the mall that he liked some teenager's rainbow socks. On the bright side hell always talk to customer service for you in anything, he'll always say your order for you when you're getting fast food because he genuinely does not give a flying fuck.

He sticks his head out car windows, he loves the feeling of the wind blowing his hair and face that he smiles stupidly when he does it. He definitely won't hear you if you're talking to him while he's doing it because he's in pure and utter bliss. Whenever he walks by a gas station/servo (I'm Australian shut up) he plugs his nose because he absolutely hates the smell of gasoline.

His favourite place to go his a huge lake that people often fish near, he can't smell the dead fish even if he tried. He'll wear whatever he pleases no matter the weather, it'll be blazing hot and he'll wear a sweater because he claims he can't feel the heat. N also has motion sickness when it comes to huge swings, doesn't mean he won't try it though.

His man is very fucking strong, he's restrained a 17 year old with ease with his small twig arms and he's thrown a kid into the pavement, (he was a prosecutor but he's gotten much better and he's no longer one) I'm pretty sure he's almost broken a kid's spine because of how well he's able to immobilise people.

Very clingy and LOVES pets but he'll only let you pet him if he actually trusts you, other than that he loves em. His skin his very sensitive and he very ticklish, he's got this stupid laugh when he physically cannot contain it and it's so damn loud but damn is it contagious.

This man will fall asleep ANYWHERE, doesn't matter where it is he'll fall asleep in it. He's fallen asleep on concrete while sitting cross legged, he's fallen asleep in a metal work shop whole standing up, he's fallen asleep anywhere! He just can't sleep in his room apparently.

Hopefully N doesn't kill me in the morning lmao ✌️

- Mod Ivor 💗

[writteninthegarden]

Body in Autopsy. Copy That.

18+ Minors, please DNI.

NCIS Fic-Jimmy Palmer x Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Jimmy are dating. Reader previously interned at NCIS, but now teaches at FLETC. Reader comes down to Autopsy to meet Jimmy for lunch, but first shoots her shot for an afternoon delight. Things start to get steamy until they hear a noise in autopsy…

A/N: This one started as just a saucy WIP, but now I might want to do a couple parts for this case I seemingly cooked up.

Word Count: 1776

Warnings/Content: NSFW (mild), A lot of dirty talk that ends up getting interrupted, language, threat scare in autopsy, DiNozzo in a bad mood, cliff hanger ending

You walked into Autopsy as you adjusted your NCIS visitor badge. Jimmy was reading over what looked like a report while he sat on a stool. You’d guessed correctly that Ducky might step away for a lunch break around this time.

“Hey handsome” you called over to Jimmy as you made your way over to where he sat.

He tried to give you a serious look but couldn’t hide the grin appearing on his face.

“Hey, you.” He met your hand that came to rest on his shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Figured I’d stop over a little early for lunch. I’m not up to anything.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Hmm, I think my phone would say otherwise.”

“What’s the matter with your phone?” You had to admit you were enjoying this.

“Just the saucy texts I keep getting during work. Do you know how difficult it is to hide a hard on in scrubs?”

“Sorry, I don’t know…but you can show me.” You moved efficiently and made it to the waistband on his scrub bottoms before he stilled your hand.

“Behave yourself.” You knew he likely didn’t mean it in a commanding way, but damn that was kind of hot.

“Unfair” you whispered in his ear. “You told me about your hard on and now I’m really horny.”

“Baby…we really can’t.” He released an exasperated sigh.

“I know, but…” You moved to whisper in his other ear. “I need you. I can’t stop thinking about you taking me from behind. Like the other night when you grabbed my ponytail…mhmm” you moaned.

“Fuck, you’re killing me…we definitely can’t down here. I don’t know any spots that aren’t badge access now.”

“How about the unisex bathroom?” You lightly ran your fingers over his chest.

“Near the interrogation rooms?”

“Yeah, I figured the one near MTAC would be too ballsy. Is anyone being interrogated currently?”

“Possibly?”

Just then you heard a noise but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You didn’t pay it much mind.

“So, should we head towards interrogation?”

“Wait, is that you?”

“Mhmm, it will be me…taking care of you, handsome.” You draped your arms around his shoulders and neck.

Thunk.

You locked eyes with Jimmy. As you heard the strange noise behind you once again he looked shocked.

“Wha-” you started to say, but he put his hand over your mouth.

“I just want to keep kissing you.” He didn’t kiss you or remove his hand. Instead, he motioned towards the hallway with his head and silently mouthed “no talking.” You nodded.

He removed his hand from your mouth and grabbed your hand instead. Quickly, he ran over to the desk to grab his cell phone and slid it in his pocket. Jimmy didn’t let go of your hand, but made sure you walked in front of him. Once you were in the hallway, he directed you to an alcove out of sight.

“Jimmy, what the hell was that noise” you whispered, unsure how far voices carried down here.

“Promise me you’ll stay quiet and not freak out if I tell you?”

“Yes. Just tell me already.”

“Okay, I’m not positive, but I think that noise is coming from the body bag.” Your eyes went as wide as a cartoon character. “I thought I saw it move when we heard the last noise.” Make that your eyes and jaw that were now wide as a cartoon character.

“Jimmy, what the fuck?” you asked as quietly as you could manage. “This is the shit nightmares are made of. You’d better not be screwing with me. I swear to god we’ll never have sex ever again. No offense, but isn’t that something you check when you bring a body in?” Granted, your whispered tone probably didn’t make the no sex threat sound all that serious.

“That they’re actually deceased? Yes. That one came to us though, so I haven’t seen it. Dr. Mallard must’ve received it. Y/N, I need your help.” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Find Gibbs. Get him down here or anyone from MCRT. I’m going to check what info we know about the body in there. As fast as you can, okay?”

Instead of answering, you frantically kissed him. “I’ll be right back. Be careful, babe.”

You threw open the stairwell door and booked it up the stairs to avoid waiting for the elevator. As you climbed you tried to call Gibbs, but he didn’t pick up. You came barreling out of the stairwell and scanned the office as fast as you could. As luck would have it, Tony was the first familiar face you spotted. In an effort to avoid causing a panic yet, you settled for speed walking to his desk.

“Tony! Where is Gibbs?”

“Hey, Y/N! Jeez, you spend more time here than at your actual job most days. Umm, is everything okay?”

“No, there’s a situation. Where is Gibbs?”

“Getting coffee if I had to guess. What’s going on? Let’s walk and talk.” Tony led you out of the bullpen, likely to avoid creating a scene.

“It’s autopsy, Tony” you said with a gasp. “There’s a body in autopsy.” You hadn’t realized how winded you were until you tried to explain. Shit. You might be on the verge of a panic attack.

“Wow” Tony chuckled. “I’m not sure how we manage around here without you around to make brilliant deductions like that.”

“Tony…this isn’t a joke. The body is-”

“Okay, body in autopsy. Copy that.”

“No, there isn’t, DiNozzo” Gibbs chimed in as he walked off the elevator.

“Gibbs! Oh, thank god!” You grabbed Gibbs’ upper arm and pulled him back into the elevator. Well, he let you pull him rather. You rapidly hit the level for autopsy, but as soon as the doors closed Gibbs reached over you to turn off the elevator.

“Y/L/N, what the hell is going on?” His tone was sharp, but he wasn’t yelling yet.

“Palmer has a body in autopsy that Ducky must’ve received earlier. I was down there to meet Jimmy for lunch and we started hearing noises. Jimmy thought the noises came from INSIDE the body bag. He told me to come get you and that’s all I know.”

With lightning speed Gibbs flipped the elevator back on and did some trick with the buttons so it would travel directly to autopsy.

“L/N, listen to me. When we get down there, I need you to get Palmer out of there. I’m going to need space to get a technician in there to scan the bag. I’ll tell DiNozzo who we need dispatched.”

Gibbs exited the elevator first and instructed you to wait outside of autopsy. “Ah, shit. L/N, call Vance. Tell him there’s a situation and I have it handled for now.”

“Anything else? Somehow I imagine he’ll have questions…like do we need to evacuate the building??”

“Not until I know more. Stay right there until I send Palmer out to you.”

“Okay.” Under your breath you continued to say, “let me just call the Director with no info and make him really angry.”

As you hung up the phone, Jimmy came out to find you. Once he was close enough, he instantly pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around him and he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What about you though?” You leaned back to be able to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay…better now that you’re back here. Good news so far is it’s not a bomb!”

“How do you know? The bomb squad isn’t here yet.”

“We didn’t want to waste any time considering we were already in there and how many people are in this building. So, we used the x-ray. It can’t pick up any chemicals, but it showed there is some sort of small animal that hitched a ride with the deceased…who we also know is deceased, but I need a faster computer to pull up more about the body. Come with me upstairs.”

That was easy enough, you thought to yourself. You went up to the bull pen and Jimmy logged on the spare computer beside McGee’s desk. You pulled over Tony’s chair and sat down.

A few minutes later Tony came by. “Palmer, sit rep for Gibbs? Y/N, by all means make yourself at home…” Tony added sarcastically.

“Projecting it to the screen now. I found the paperwork from when the body was delivered here, but neither Dr. Mallard nor I received it.”

“What are you talking about, Palmer?” Tony pointed to the screen. “Ducky signed it.”

“That’s not Dr. Mallard’s signature. It’s close, but the lowercase A’s and D’s aren’t right.”

“So we have a bogey body with some sort of woodland creature or wildlife desperately trying to escape.”

“My guess is a squirrel or something of a similar size” Jimmy added.

“Okay, that helps animal control, but I can’t put a BOLO out on Rocky the squirrel. Bigger questions-who forged Ducky’s signature and why?”

“We also should let animal control capture the critter.” You hopped out of your seat and leaned over Jimmy, taking over the keyboard.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We won’t put you on squirrel duty. Now, back to the case…” Tony scolded.

“I meant in case it’s rabid, DiNozzo” you fired right back. “Meanwhile, stand by I’m pulling the security footage from when the body was dropped off.”

Jimmy swiveled his chair and guided you to his lap so you didn’t have to hover. Somehow you knew Tony would have a comment. He always did.

“Enough canoodling over there, Gremlins. This is a professional work environment.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize. Up yours, DiNozzo. Professionally, of course.” You and Tony had history from your time interning with MCRT years ago. You figured if he could dish it out you should be able to as well.

“Y/L/N! My office. Now.”

Shit. Well, preferably you wouldn’t get caught dishing it out by Director Vance…while also sitting on Jimmy’s lap in the squad room. Great.

“Director Vance, I am incredibly sorry” you started, trying to buy yourself time while the camera footage loaded.

“And yet you’re not moving. Let’s go.”

Damn, he sounded livid. You accepted this would likely be your last time receiving a visitor badge.

“Sorry, Director. Aha! I got it. Sir, Director Vance! I have a positive ID from the security cams of the person who snuck the body in today. Running it against the employee ID photos just to be sure.”

The computer dinged. “Oh, fuck…not again” you heard Jimmy say under his breath.

The ID matched to Agent Lee.

[nobigsecrets]

writing prompt: a scene or anecdote from your character's life, no longer than 500 words and not at all connected to any kind of plot point or character development (x)

Steve was pacing in front of the arrivals gate at the airport, impatiently waiting for Danny. The plane from Newark had landed twenty-five minutes ago, how long could it possibly take to disembark?

After he completed another round along the luggage belt, finally, the glass doors slid open and the first passengers spilled out into the crowd. Steve craned his neck, looking for Danny when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen, half expecting a text from Danny—explaining or complaining about whatever took so long—but it was a confirmation about the two dead bodies at their latest crime scene. A crime scene he should be attending to right now, and why did they always catch the urgent cases when there were plans?

Not that it was a big plan, but one he had secretly, privately been looking forward to for the whole week Danny was away visiting his family in New Jersey. The plan had been simple and straightforward: pick Danny up from the airport, take him home, and then not leave the house—and preferably their bed—anymore for the rest of the weekend.

But no such luck. Steve’s phone had rung just as he was en route to the airport. He’d sent Tani and Lou to the crime scene, and instead of taking Danny home from the airport, he’d take him directly to HQ. If Danny ever made his way through these doors, that is. If he hadn’t left his badge in the car, Steve thought, he could probably bluff his way past immigration—

There!

Finally!

Danny stepped outside, eyes scanning the crowd and it didn’t take long until he’d found Steve. His face lit up in a smile when their eyes met and Steve’s heart skipped a beat.

Steve supposed that his own smile wasn’t any less goofy or smitten than Danny’s, but neither could he help it nor did he care.

Steve took a few steps in Danny’s direction, eyes fixed on the man, and he noticed that something was different about him—

Not in a major way, but something about his appearance—

Not his face, but—

What was it?

What?

Danny came to stand in front of him, still smiling, most likely expecting a hug, but Steve stared at him in confusion for a moment, until—

“You’ve cut your hair?” he asked, incredulous, voice slightly too high with surprise.

“You like it?” Danny asked, at the same time as Steve said “Where is Danny Williams and what have you done to him?”

“I’m the one and only,” Danny said, and then “C’mere, you goof!”

He dropped his backpack to the floor, reached out and pulled Steve into a bone crushing hug. Steve looped his arms around Danny’s shoulders and god, it felt good to have Danny back! Danny held him tight for a moment, before he slowly pulled back. Their hug was over way too soon, short by necessity, and Steve dared to let his hand linger on the nape of Danny’s neck for a few seconds longer.

He couldn’t help staring, taking in every detail: Danny had cropped his hair short at the sides and left it long on the top of his head, the dark blond strands gelled back like usually, but this—

It seemed bold for Danny, giving him a rough, rugged look, kind of badass—and damned hot. It took Steve’s breath away and hell yeah, he did like it. A lot. Steve regretted even more than before now that they would have to go to work from here.

Danny gave him a knowing look, eyes twinkling and mischievous smile, and it took Steve a lot of willpower to not pull him back in and kiss him senseless. Instead, he let his thumb brush lightly over the short hair at Danny’s neck, his fingers itching to touch more of it, but this wasn’t the time or the place. With a frustrated sigh he let his hand fall away.

“C’mon,” he said as be bent down to pick up Danny’s backpack. “We’ve caught a case.”

[justkending]

Noisy Neighbors, Drabble Series. (2/2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it...

Pairing: (college neighbor) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: I had a sweet follower @blessedwedgie​ ask me if I can write a continuation of this drabble I did a while back and at first I was like, “What do I do? Where would I want that to go? How would I continue that in a way that would be cute?” Then I was at work being bored as hell, but had a pen and paper and well... Here we are! I hope I did it justice friend:) This was really fun to write and I want all the cuteness that is College Bucky Barnes in my life honestly!

Here is part one if you haven’t read it yet. 

Noisy Neighbors Part 2:

The only reason you really agreed to coffee with the handsome neighbor was because your morning class had been canceled and you didn’t have another until later that afternoon. Of course there was the free coffee too… Ok, maybe his stupid handsome face had something to do with you leaning to say yes. 

He was persistent.

So at 9:55 the next morning, you threw on a pair of real pants and a jean jacket over your sweater and ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed your keys by the front door. 

“I’ll be back later Wands!” you shouted back down the hallway. No response. She was probably sleeping after pulling an all nighter for a test today. “I’ll be bringing you back some coffee too, I guess,” you laughed to yourself as you went to open the door. 

But you were startled to open it and immediately see those familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Jesus-” you jutted as you threw your hand over your chest in surprise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed as he took in your reaction. “I literally just stepped in front of your door.”

“You sure you haven’t been waiting out here since last night?” you smirked, stepping out and locking it. 

“Now, I did say I was persistent, but I think I deserve a coffee and a little more than small talk before I decide if you’re stalking material,” he shrugged, watching as you turned back to him. 

“I like to think I’m stalking material,” you played along, getting a laugh out of him. “Though, doesn’t mean I’d actually liked to be stalked.”

“Ladies and gentleman, she’s got the jokes,” Bucky announced as you walked side by side to leave the apartment building. 

“Just to be safe, you’re not some charming Teddy Bundy 2.0, are you? Cause if that’s the case, I don’t think this is going to work out,” you joked, sending him a smile before tucking your hands in your coat about to bare the cold outside. 

“So you think I’m charming?” Bucky jeered. 

“Don’t get cocky there, Cavanosa. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll ever answer my door again if you knock,” you pointed at him as he opened the door for you. 

“I’m wounded, Y/N,” he faked hurt, but inside he was just gitty to know your name now and be able to say it. 

“Buy me that coffee, and you’ll have a better chance, soldier.”

_____________

You went to the coffee shop on campus and the little coffee date went surprisingly well. You talked about school, learning Bucky was a forensics major and hoped to go to Quantico at some point. He said he always had a gift and interest in crime scenes and murder mysteries growing up. He liked being able to solve it before the characters on shows did or the narrator gave it away. 

To which you countered with, “So you would be a certified stalker with a badge? Interesting…”

That got a big belly laugh out of him which you couldn’t seem to help but join him after hearing such a sweet sound.

You talked about how you’re going into Psychology, and actually were interested in a similar field of forensics. You had always loved the psychoanalyzing of people and situations. So naturally, you were looking into being a Forensic Psychologist. 

He asked why he hadn’t had any classes with you yet considering it was both your senior years. Then you explained to him how you had just transferred for this last semester because of better professors and a scholarship opportunity you wanted to take advantage of before graduation. 

It turned out that you both were taking one of the same classes, but just had it at different times. Same professor though. 

After the obligated ‘college talk’, you both got into; where you grew up, where you plan to go, what are your hobbies, what do you do in your free time if you weren’t studying. Which you had already known Bucky’s was throwing parties that irked you to no end. 

“Yeah, I’ll cut back on those. I’ve been getting behind in school and it’s starting to affect my grades,” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Dr. Cassel’s class especially. Damn man has a 3 page essay due what feels like every night!”

Dr. Cassel being the professor that you shared.

“Eh, it’s not fun, but if you get ahead a little and do the readings, it’s not that bad,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the hot cup of tea that you told him you preferred instead of coffee on days like this with the weather. 

“Easy to say for a nerd who likes to read,” he smirked taking a drink from his own cup as he looked over the brim of it at you.

“Excuse me sir, I thought you were trying to get on my good side here,” you gasped. “Calling me a nerd isn’t going to do that for you.”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You actually kinda remind me of Steve. He’s a bookworm like you and the goody two shoes who’s always on top of things.”

“He didn’t seem like that at the party the other night,” you tilted your head. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not have finally had convinced him to join in on the fun. He’s always holed up in his room studying or reading something, which I’m sure you understand,” he winked getting an eye roll from you. “But every once and a while I can get him to cross over to the dark side for a night.”

“School’s important for me. It’s taken a lot to get here and I don’t want to mess it up,” you explained. Your face going a little more serious as if there was more behind that fact than you were letting on. Bucky toned his joking down some at change. “Plus, it’s my senior year. One more semester of this and I’m home free. That is until I start job searching and that’s a whole other step,” you shook your head looking down at your drink. 

“Have you ever gone to a party during college?” Bucky asked. “You know, do the whole college experience thing?”

You looked up seeing he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, yeah. I went to one or two with my old boyfriend at the other school I went to. They weren’t more than just a bunch of frat boys and girls getting plastered and making out in random spots around the house, while the rest were listening to loud music and standing elbow to elbow in a crowded rent house off campus.”

“Very specific scenario there,” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “I take it you and your boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” His question did not meet your eye line as he stirred the dash of creamer he had to his drink. 

“No, that would mean he would be my current boyfriend, not old,” you laughed. “That and I probably wouldn’t have said yes to coffee if I was dating someone.”

“Right, because this is a date,” he noted as he looked back at you with that cocky grin. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smirked back. 

“You did say it in the text. You said, ‘sounds like a date,’” he pointed out. 

“But do all coffee dates mean actual dates or just meeting up to talk over coffee?” you countered. 

“Would I get in trouble if I said I’m hoping it’s the first one?” he asked with hopeful eyes. 

You paused for a second. God, he was cute. He was charming. But… You came here for your degree and you broke up with your last boyfriend because your schedule is too hectic and you’re trying to focus strictly on school. You didn’t have time for relationships. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really a part of the dating rehealm at the moment,” you said awkwardly. Bucky’s smile dropping some. “My schedule is just too chaotic to add another person to it, and I really need to focus on school.”

You could see disappointment on his face, but he was quick to wipe it off to not cause any more tense energy in the conversation. 

“I get it. You have your priorities in check. Can’t blame you for that,” he shrugged with a soft smile. “But now that I know you’re my neighbor, and I really like your whole persona. You won’t be mad if we became friends, would you?”

You giggled at that and his smile widened. “I think I can get on board with that.” His grin grew once again. “Besides, I may need to copy your notes for class, so I guess it’d be useful to get along with you,” you exaggerated as if it was so much to do on your end. 

“If anyone’s copying notes here, it’ll be me, doll. I’m the one failing,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink, 

You two continued talking for a while with another cup of coffee was purchased. Strangely enough the annoying neighbor that you had grown to despise, had surprised you in being a pretty nice guy. It was like you two had been friends since high school with how comfortable and snarky you guys were with the other. And it didn’t hurt to look at him either…

Eventually you headed off to your afternoon class and Bucky headed home being lucky enough not to have any classes all day. He offered to walk you to the class, but with it being as cold as it was, you didn’t want to inconvenience him by walking you there and then all the way back to the apartments. It wasn’t a short walk. 

He obliged after much persuasion on your end and you went your separate ways. 

As the weeks went on, you started to see more of your neighbors. Steve sat with you in Child Psychology now knowing you a little better, and Bucky somehow always was in the hallway at the same time as you or was bumping into you at the forensics building occasionally. 

The neighbors had become friends and Wanda was just happy to not hear you complaining anymore about the two that shared your wall. That and the parties had practically ceased now. Considering what Bucky said about being behind in classes, you suspected he was trying to cut back on his social time. 

As the semester went on, Bucky made it a priority to see you at least once a day if he could. Emphasis on the at least…

If that meant knocking on your door to walk to class, he jumped at the opportunity. 

“Hey, I’m headed to the library and I know you have that 12 o’clock class in the building over. Wanna just go together?” He grinned. 

“Can’t say no to a chauffeur,” you would smile back as you grabbed a beanie and walked out with him. 

If it meant somehow almost always making more food than he and Steve could eat, just to come over and offer you some, he would take the option. 

“Hey, I made some pasta tonight and had way too much for Steve and I. I thought I would ask if you and Wanda want some before I throw it out,” he smiled widely in your doorway. “What college student in their right mind would say no to a hot meal?” he winked.

“Not a sane one,” you chuckled as you took the platter. “You sure you don’t want them for leftovers?”

“Eh, we never get around to eating them most the time. You guys will enjoy it more than us. Plus, it’s better fresh,” he waved off. 

“Ok, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to bake you some of my famous brownies as a thank you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N. I will hold you to it.”

If it meant last minute study sessions for a class he forgot, he texted you a long message begging you to help him out. 

“I know you took this class last semester, so you have to know something. And something is more than I know,” he said with a wrinkled nose once he was in your room. 

“What part of the unit are you in?” you sighed from your desk as you put your now finished work to the side for him. 

“Personality disorders common in serial murders.”

“Oh, that’s the fun stuff. Why wouldn't you want to learn about that?” you gasped, going to sit right next to him on your bed. 

But honestly, he wasn’t worried about the chapter. He had actually read it before coming over to surprise you in his knowledge when he acted like he was lost. He just liked when you sat close to him and went on a rant when you came up on something that triggered a murder documentary you watched. That’s how he hooked you into letting him stay longer. 

“Wait, so the movie was about a serial killer who ended up having multiple personality disorder? He didn’t know he was doing the killings?” he asked. 

“How have you not seen it? It’s a classic!” you questioned in surprise. 

“I don’t know… Tell me more about it,” he grinned as you went on. 

Oh, and he had seen it. It was a good movie. 

If it meant he somehow got ‘locked out of his apartment and couldn’t get in until Steve was home’, he made the excuse to sit outside your door until you were home. 

“I left my key inside by accident today. Any chance you’ll let a loner like me hang out with you for a little until blondie gets home?” he batted his eyelashes as he leaned against your door. 

“This is the second time this week, Bucky. And the fourth time since last week. Do I need to sew the damn things to you?” you laughed opening your apartment to him. 

“I’ll pass on that. I would prefer to just hang out with you instead,” he shrugged, closing the door behind him. 

“You sure you left your keys by accident?” you asked with a pointed eyebrow as you took off your jacket. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, doing the motion. 

“Yeah, sure. Wanna put a pot of coffee on while I change?” you asked, already moving to your room. He had been over enough by now from study sessions and ‘accidental lockouts’ to know how to work your machine. 

“Already on it,” he hummed walking to the kitchen. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Dash of cream and-”

“Two sugars! I know,” he shouted back, smiling as he moved in your kitchen to grab the mugs. 

And if it meant never throwing another party again, and instead asking you to come over to his place and watch a movie instead, he moved his schedule around for you. 

“Hey, what do you say to a movie date?” he asked as you walked back from class and nudged you with his elbow. 

“A movie night sounds nice,” you responded, emphasizing on night instead of date. 

“I didn’t say night,” he would point out. 

“I know. I figured I would correct you on your slip up. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Words are hard,” you teased, nudging him back. 

Though he knew you would never fall for his little tricks, he always implemented date into a lot of his questions about you two hanging out. It had become a little game between you both. 

“Study date tonight before Cassel’s test?” He asked as you grabbed your mail together. 

“Study session? Yeah, sure,” you corrected. 

“Hey, want to come over for a dinner date? Steve and I are making homemade pizza. You and Wanda are welcome!” he offered. 

“I’d love to have a pizza party with you guys. I’ll text Wanda and see what her plans are,” you giggled, hip bumping him walking up the stairs. 

“Hey, what do you say to an impromptu date to the baseball game tonight? We’re playing against our school's top rival,” He smiled as you both grabbed your coffee from the barista. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that was tonight. Eh, how do you feel about a movie night instead?” you shrugged. 

“Movie date?” he seconded. 

“Yeah, a movie night,” you emphasized. 

Conversations like that went on all semester. You were finding that whatever time you weren’t spending in class or at work, it was next to Bucky. The two of you becoming a couple of best friends attached to the hip. 

It was nice. You enjoyed it. And though, you knew deep down that he probably meant all those things being a date and hoped for it, you were glad he didn’t press on when you changed the meaning. He understood where you stood and he wasn’t going to pressure you for anything different if you didn’t want to. 

And now, it was time for graduation. You, Steve, Wanda, Wanda’s boyfriend Vis, and Bucky all stood in your gowns taking pictures with your temporary degree in hand outside the college stadium. You had all finally finished. With a lot of all nighters, stress relief movie nights, and much needed pizza parties, you had graduated. 

You didn’t plan on getting two new really good friends out of it as your mind had always been school, school, school. No time for a social life and distractions. 

But boy were you glad you had hit a breaking point the night you banged on their door. If you hadn’t, you would have probably never created the very close relationship with the blue eyed, brown hair, crazy flirtatious, but charming neighbor. 

“Hey, since we graduated and we finished the damn thing, how do you feel about a date?” Bucky asked turning to you after Wanda snapped a picture of you both.

“I didn’t hear movie, study, or pizza in front of that word. What kinda date are we talking about?” you asked as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist from the pose you two were in. 

“I was thinking of a real date,” he smiled. 

His hand on your hip giving a gently, but firm squeeze as his eye practically suffocated you with the ocean tides in them. 

“I think I can get behind that,” you grinned up at him, squeezing his shoulder. “A real date it is, Casanova.”

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4 @chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

[bookishofalder]

Joke of a Batman

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Request: @meowiemari Okie dokie!!! So Spencer x male reader where the reader is the driver for the robbers. They arrested him after finding him in a gas station getting snacks. While driving in his car with Morgan, Reid, and Hotch, the reader is in the passenger seat telling them the location because he was just there for the money. Hotch and Morgan went while Spencer stays to keep an eye on him. Reader’s playlist in his car plays old Justin Bieber songs and it’s gonna be me by NSYNC. Spencer sees his embarrassment and  awkwardly sings a bit so he doesn’t feel shame. Later in absolute a few minuets the two started singing and as soon as Morgan comes back with Hotch, they both quickly turn off the playlist and exchange numbers. :)

Warnings: Swearing, implied SMUT (super brief)

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I loved writing this, and hope I you enjoy. This was my first time writing the reader as male-so please tell me if I can improve! Tried to keep reader description as vague as possible. Thank you to @mermaidxatxheart​ for encouraging me to get writing :) 

“That’ll be $11.75, please.” The bored gas station attendant droned, staring at you expectantly. You began to pull out a few bills from your wallet, ready to get home and eat your pint of ice cream in peace, but before you could count out what you needed, a voice behind you cut in.

“He’s no longer going to be making a purchase today, actually,” Spinning around in alarm, you find yourself face to face with two imposing men, one with a deep frown and overall authoritative air with his crisp suit, the other a handsome but tall and physically intimidating specimen.

With a gulp, you stuff the cash in your wallet. Who were these guys?

“Y/F/N?”

You nod as heat creeps up your neck, burning your face. Fucking Peter Robbins, you always knew, was going to be the death of you. And now it looked like your latest foray into his questionable life was going to land you in jail. These had to be cops.

You knew you should have ignored his call. You’d been telling yourself for years not to help him, he was just going to get himself in trouble again and call again, and you got nothing out of it. He used you because he knew you liked him. The two of you had been friends for years, and it didn’t take him long to realize the ways he could manipulate you because of how you felt.

It took you a lot longer to catch on to what he was doing.

But fuck, you still came running when he called, didn’t you? Like you were some joke of a Batman and he was shining his light into the sky calling for you. If only.

“That’s, yeah, that’s me.” You replied, slowly shoving your wallet into your front pocket before holding your hands in front of you in surrender. Whatever happened, you decide at this moment that you never want to see Peter again. Because giving that man a ride in hopes he’d one day say he was interested was not worth this.

“Mr. (Y/L/N), we’re placing you under arrest,” The frowning man held out his badge, showing you he was one Agent Hotchner from the fucking FBI. You tuned him out, your ears suddenly ringing, alarm shooting through you. Getting arrested was one thing, but the FBI? What in the living hell had Peter gotten into? Got you into?

He called you for a ride. It was just supposed to be a ride.

You were surprised when they didn’t cuff you, but you weren’t stupid enough to question them. They led you outside, where the gas station was quiet, only their large black SUV and your Honda Civic parked out front. You kept your eyes down, a sting threatening the corners but you were not going to cry. You needed to take this one step at a time, and not overreact. You surely didn’t fuck up that badly, did you? They’d said ‘suspicion of aiding a crime’, only suspicion.

“Listen, kid,” The bald Agent whose name you learned was Morgan turned and faced you, his expression serious. You bristled slightly at him calling you ‘kid’, but based on the crows' feet around his eyes, maybe he was older than he let on. “We know that you were just the driver today, and that you’d probably have no clue what’s going on right now.”

You raised your eyes to meet his, “Peter Robbins has ensured I fuck up my life at least once a year for nearly a decade. This is just...a new level for me.” You shrug, trying not to think of what your family was going to say when they found out. Would you lose your job?

“We’ve been watching Peter and his associates for a while now,” Agent Hotchner replied, and your brows raised in surprise. “Yes, he’s escalated from petty crimes that upset the local sheriff to armed robbery. Unfortunately, one of his partners happens to enjoy killing. Which is why we were called in.” He stops speaking abruptly when another Agent, you assume from the gun on his belt, steps around the SUV and up to your group.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. This Agent is stunningly handsome, much younger than the other two. His eyes, which met yours for only a moment before flitting away, were a soft honey brown that sucked you right in. He had a bit of a shadow along his jaw, his wavy brown hair unkempt in the best kind of way, as though he’d just rolled out of bed looking that perfect. And you could tell he didn’t even realize the power he had. Standing next to two burly, thick muscled Agents, you could understand why. But in your brief assessment of this new man, you could see the lean strength of him, the muscles of his lower arms, veins in his hands. He was tall, too, taller than either of the other men, which was saying something.

“What’s up, Reid?” Morgan asked, and the new arrival-Reid-held up his phone.

“Garcia can’t pull anything from the Honda, it’s, her words, an ancient species.” He spoke quickly, almost as though the words couldn’t find their way off of his tongue quickly enough. You tried not to fixate on his mouth, because damn it, his lips were perfect.

Absentmindedly, you crossed your arms across your chest, feeling tense and tired. When Reid’s eyes followed the movement, you felt frozen under his gaze, watching with your breath held as it dragged slowly up to your face. His expression was unreadable, yet you still felt your cheeks grow warmer.

“Listen, (Y/N), we know you don’t have any real part in Peter’s crimes. We intercepted his calls and texts, we know he asked you to pick him up today, last minute.” Agent Hotchner said, his eyes burning into yours.

You looked away from the other men, shame flooding through you. “Peter always calls, and I always answer. But I really don’t know anything about what he does, I didn't know he was even with anyone else today. He asked me to pick him up right out front of the pharmacy, that’s all.” You couldn’t help the edge to your voice, the wordless plea that they understand you had no clue what was going on. And if innocent people were dying, you would do anything you could to help them put a stop to it.

Reid tilted his head slightly as he watched you, “We’ve seen the messages, (Y/N), we know how he treats you, giving you a little, yet taking a lot,” The tears almost threaten now, so you glance away, looking at the ground as you nod, “And he doesn’t even tell you what he’s taking, the danger he’s putting you in. He’s going to go away for a long time, but you don’t have to.”

At this, your head snaps up and you look between the three men, expecting them to laugh and finally cuff you. But they all wear the same neutral expression, all watching you.

“Like I said, I don’t know much abou-“

Reid shook his head, politely interjecting, “We understand. But you know where you took him today, right?” At your nod, Reid stepped a little closer, peering down at you, “We need you to take us to him. And tell us any other addresses you can remember picking him up from or taking him to in the last year. Can you help us? You won’t be under arrest if you can give us what we need to stop Peter and the men he’s working with.”

You almost wanted to laugh. Of course, you would help, regardless of whether you were still under arrest; you had no loyalty whatsoever to Peter. You only ever showed up for him because you hoped, each time, that it would be the time he would go beyond flirting. That the feelings were mutual. But if he was committing crimes-fuck, robbing people, working with a murderer, then you were done with him.

“I can tell you addresses, and I can show where he is now, I just,” You paused, closing your eyes briefly to pull in a breath, steadying yourself, “Please, don’t hurt him, if you don’t need to, I mean.”

Reid’s eyes, which you found the moment you opened yours, visibly softened at your words. He seemed a little surprised, you thought, though it was hard to tell. He was difficult to read, and you’d only just met him. He nodded reassuringly before looking to Agent Hotchner expectantly while you waited, your insides in knots.

“(Y/N), Spencer is going to go with you in your vehicle, and we’ll be following behind. Take us as close as you can without being obvious. Reid,” He turned to the handsome agent, “We’re going to check the car first, can you-��� He gestured wordlessly in your direction, which made you frown in confusion.

Reid nodded, and you watched as the two other agents moved to search your car, while he moved toward you. “I’m going to search you for weapons, okay?” He explained, holding his hands out as if waiting for your permission.

You stared, perhaps a beat too long, at his long-fingered hands. With a shy bob of your head, you looked to Reid, “Of course, I understand.” And the agent began to pat you down as you stood awkwardly.

It wasn’t as though the action was intimate or affectionate, but for whatever reason, you did feel his touch was hesitant. He was gentle, considerate...it surprised you. And then his hands slid up your back as he stood in front of you, and you became acutely aware of the thin cotton t-shirt your wore, instantly becoming self-conscious. You wondered what he thought of you, of your body.

Mind out of the gutter, you told yourself.

It was then, when Reid leaned back, his hands sliding from your back to your chest, that time seemed to stand still, just for a moment. They moved across your stomach briefly, and as they began to pull away, the search complete, you looked up. Reid was staring at you, his cheeks flushed, eyes heavy. You caught your breath, his gaze was so intense, but before you could even try to think of what to say, he was swiftly stepping back, breaking eye contact with a heavy swallow.

You were kind of relieved. That had been almost too intense, whatever that was. The relief lasted only moments until Agent Hotchner called out that your car was good to go, and you remembered you had a twenty-minute car ride alone with the Reid.

Fuck.

+

The first few minutes of the drive are bearable enough, Spencer takes the wheel as you give him directions to the subdivision where you had dropped Peter off. It’s when the silence starts to press in, and you don’t know what to say to fill it, that things swiftly change.

Sensing the tension, no doubt, Reid reaches out to the audio power button and hits your stereo on. With an internal groan, you suddenly wish you could just jump out of the moving vehicle when the song you’d been listening to picks back up.

'Cause I've had everything But no one's listening And that's just fucking lonely I'm so lonely Lonely

You had put on a playlist you considered your ‘sad songs’ compilation for whenever you were let down by Peter or any other man. You enjoyed wallowing in self-pity for just a little while after each encounter. But now, as Justin Bieber crooned sadly, you didn't feel sad, just humiliated. You were in your car with a fiercely hot FBI agent who had given you some kind of fucking bedroom eyes just minutes ago as he pats you down, and this song plays.

Your expression must have been obvious, as you saw Reid look at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, frowning somewhat. When the song ended, you didn’t get a chance to be relieved before ‘Somebody to Love” began playing. This time, you sighed aloud, sinking somewhat into your seat and wishing you could dissolve into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch.

Until that is, you glanced up and saw Reid’s fingers tapping gently on the steering wheel to the beat. Surprised, you looked around to the agent and he was mouthing the words, singing along with the chorus. Stunned, you just watched him for a moment, quickly finding yourself enraptured by the way his plump lips moved around the words, how his tongue would wet them between lines, how his eyes-

Fuck, he was looking right at you. You smiled quickly but looked away, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You really had much bigger, more important shit to be concerned with right now, yet here you were wondering what the hell this perfect man, this FBI agent that was far too handsome for his own good, was doing singing along with the silly song, and why the look he gave you had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Not to mention, the guilt that accompanied those thoughts, brief as they were, of what the lips would feel like on yours. What they would feel like on your body. Wrapped around your cock. Fuck.

He hadn’t said anything, but his fingers continued to tap along with the beat with ease. Eventually, when you directed him to the final turn, you chanced another glance at him. As if expecting your gaze, he turned his head and smiled at you, “I’m Spencer, by the way, Dr. Spencer Reid.” You blinked. Doctor?

“Oh, uh. Wow. Nice to meet you, Dr-“

“You can call me Spencer,” He cut in, his expression somewhat amused.

You nodded, “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Though I wish it were under different circumstances, perhaps where I wasn’t a criminal piece of shit.”

He pulled the car over, stopped at the community mailbox you had described as the perfect place to park. Once he’d turned the engine off, he turned to face you, those warm eyes giving you a gentle look. “You aren’t a criminal piece of shit, (Y/N),” Oh, you loved the way your name sounded coming from him. “I’d go as far as to say you’re a victim in all of this.”

You scoffed, waving a hand in protest, “No, I really should have known better than to help Peter.”

But Spencer shook his head, “As I said earlier, we saw the messages. He manipulates you, and he doesn’t ever tell you what he’s actually doing. He just gets you to give him rides, acts like it’s a way to hang out when really he’s using you as a cover because, in reality, you’re a law-abiding, hardworking, kind man. Men like him don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, (Y/N).”

Letting out a breath, your mind went blank at Spencer’s words, failing you entirely. You believed every word he’d said, and you felt warm all over at the intense way he watched you, it was almost...protective.

Before your mind could reboot and you could trust yourself to open your mouth and not simply drool, a tap on the window drew your eyes beyond Spencer. Agent Hotchner stood there, waiting patiently with his arms crossed.

Spencer climbed out of your car, but you stayed put, glad for a moment to close your eyes and try to steady your beating heart. After this was over, you were climbing into your bathtub and staying there for the rest of the week. Maybe the rest of the month.

“Prentiss and JJ are parked at the North end, they’re going to come with us. Can you wait here, with (Y/N), and call Garcia and have him give her the other locations?”

You heard Spencer agree and bid his fellow agents goodbye before climbing back into your car. He smiled warmly at you, and you couldn’t help but return it, your own shy and uncertain. “You heard what our task is?” He asked you, his head tilted again, watching you curiously.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. But first, can you give me your phone, please?” He held his hand out expectantly. You handed it over, first pointing it towards your face to unlock it. His fingers brushed yours when he took the phone from you, and if you hadn’t been looking at him already, you wouldn’t have believed it was intentional. But it was because at the slight contact, your eyes had widened and Spencer...Spencer had smirked.

He clicked around on your phone for a moment, hit one final button and then passed it back to you, looking satisfied. When you took it back, his phone chimed in his pocket. Confused, you peered down at your screen to see he’d added his name to your contacts and sent himself a text from your phone. Well fuck.

He was watching you with an amused expression, “Once this case is over, (Y/N), I’d love it if you would allow me to take you to dinner.”

“I, wow,” You stammered, nervously running your hair through your hair. His eyes followed your movement, and you saw a glint behind the warmth, of desire. Hunger. You didn’t think twice. “I’d love to, Spencer.” He grinned at you.

And surprising even yourself, you reached out and squeezed his hand. And when he returned the pressure and ran his thumb softly across the back of your hand, all thoughts of Peter left your mind as *NSYNC played in the background and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

✨Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @snitchthewitch

[mamorukoto]

✨—ｄｉｓｉｎｆｅｃｔｅｄ ｍｅｍｅｓ: ⋘🌺⋙

MAMORU MEMES | | 💀 - the confessions of an awkward teenage boy - STILL ACCEPTING.

@l-promised-him

| |And I’ll fight - and💀win - and fight| |

                 “Weird question, think I’ll answer it with another.            Does it matter t’ him what I like about him?                          The old man doesn’t really seem like the kind of guy who tries real hard to make good impressions.”

That veteran bastard was … comfortable - he was bossy as hell, too quick to give orders and as touchy as a thug when he didn’t get his way, but.. he was also just as quick to extend himself, his care for the others around him was ridiculous.     .. in a way, he could his own tendency toward self destructive desperation in the face of those which just couldn’t help but want to take away a sense of peace from them.       All he wanted.. was the strength necessary to protect everyone he cared about..   Not even like a hero, not even to save the world… .. But strength enough to shatter fate - wasn’t that all they needed?          He wanted to ask - did you ever get strong enough?                        Was everyone safe?What else do you need - so that everyone you love, doesn’t have to fight too?               But Levi’s eyes were a graveyard, and so….. he was afraid to know.               “.. I actually like that he’s clean, and I guess that shitty sense of humor isn’t as bad as everyone makes it out to be.         For a bossy old raccoon, he’s easy to be around.”

                                                     | |So in the end - they can💀be safe - to smile| |

[meowmeowmessi]

Loool that Simp cass tag. But you were right tho, after that dean can’t reciprocate scene, all shit cas made sam go thru made him look like a jealous bitch. And it makes so much sense now too which is funny cox when i watched the episode where cass didn’t answer any of Sam’s text i was wondering why. Like Dean was the one he was fighting with.. why not answer Sam’s texts.. and after 15x18 i hmm bitch was just jealous. He even said to dean “you & Sam have each other.” Jealous!Cas is canon y’all.

I honestly hate how much I've been thinking about simp Cass ever since 15×18  aired afjklafjsjlgjskafjkl like??? This isn't even the first time Dean and Cass had a fight after which Sam left Cass texts and Cass didn't answer??? But what happened in s15 is ten times funnier bc Dean was actually PISSED on Sam's behalf that Cass wasn't responding to his texts bc "How dare you not reply to Sammy's texts and make him sad?" There's so much jealous bitch Cass stuff to be found in s15 alone but the rest of the show has a lot to offer as well. Cass saying yes to Lucifer? Totally a ploy to get back at Sam. Cass leaving Sam in the cave to die in s13 and telling Dean he can't be saved? WELL. Simp Cass in Beat The Devil be like:

Cass: Sam is dead!!!! Now NOTHING can get in the way of me and Jack and Dean being a happy family!!!

Dean: *literally won't talk to anyone, not even his own mother, the one he came to this hell hole for in the first place, is adamant on getting back to Sam no matter what, vampires be damned*

Jack: WHERE'S SAM??? HE'S NOT DEAD HE CAN'T BE DEAD WHY DIDN'T YOU BRING HIM BACK?!?!? *shoves Cass' hand off of his shoulder*

Cass: Like father like son fml 

Also Sacrifice is pretty hilarious too if you look at it through simp Cass lens: 

Sam: *is going to die if he finishes the third trial*

Cass: What an excellent opportunity to drag Dean away from Sam just as he's beginning the third trial so that he can FINALLY die already and I can have all of Dean's love 

And then he takes Dean away to that bar or whatever where the cupid hooks up the two dudes and Cass is all *wink wink* *nudge nudge* @ Dean while Dean is like "So when can I go back to Sammy"

And then Naomi tells Dean that Sam will die if he finishes the trials and Cass is mentally going "NOOOOOOOOO" as he watches Dean's face take on that age old "SAMMY IS IN DANGER NOTHING ELSE MATTERS NOW" look.

Cass: She's lying!!!!!!!! Sam will be tOtALLy fine!!!!!

Dean: idgaf tAKE ME TO SAM  N O W

Cass, having s4 finale flashbacks: Oh my Father not this again 

And then there's the fact that he lied about not knowing that Sam's soul is missing even though he KNEW Sam was soulless the MINUTE he pulled him out......... Guess he thought if he brought back a soulless version of Sam and lied about it then Dean would think he's lost his baby brother forever and he could slide riiiigghht in to take Sam's place but NOPE. Dean's now just pining for his puppy eyed empath of a brother. Absence makes the heart grow fonder amirite. And THEN Dean finds out Sam's soul is missing so Cass is like "U should leave it in the cage bc uh... UHHHHH..... *checks notes* Sam might die if he gets his soul back..... even though if he does he'll go straight to heaven which is oBviOusLy worse than being tortured by two furious archangels in the cage. Yep. That makes sense." *nailed it*

Dean: *kills himself and bargains with Death to get Sam's soul back and makes Death put up a wall in Sam's head to protect him from his hell memories*

Cass: Guess I gotta do this the hard way then *breaks Sam's wall*

Dean to Death later on: KILL HIM *pointing at Cass*

Cass:

Also imagine if all those times Cass accidentally held his fake FBI badge upside down and Dean fixed it for him was not so ~accidental~ bc he knows Dean doesn't like being close to him so that's the only way he can get SOME skin on skin contact with him......... like.............

Cass: *holds his fake badge upside down*

Dean: *fixes it for him and their fingers brush for .000002 seconds*

Cass, mentally:

Cass in Sam's room pretending to watch Netflix when in reality he's trying hard to drown out Sam's moans and Dean's grunts as Dean fucks his baby bro in Dean's room like:

(my friend suggested this Fall Out Boy song to me for simp Cass and I hate how well this bit fits skjsksjskjskskj) 

Also Cass hugging Dean in the s11 finale and Dean just giving him a bro pat while with Sam Dean YANKS him into an embrace and folds his arms over him and holds him close, letting Sam curl his hands into his jacket and bury his face in his shoulder while flower petals float in the air around them must have made Cass seethe with rage lmao

Purgatory must have been fun. Benny probably let Dean talk his ear off about Sam bc he was ACTUALLY a good bro and Dean's REAL best friend and he realized that Sam meant a lot to Dean so he let Dean have this sliver of happiness while Cass just felt like dying in the back lmfao 

wym I think about simp Cass too much 

[whataboutmyfries]

Russian Roulette

Hello hello!!!! I finished this chapter at 1.30 am and was too tired to put it up then, but AHHHH I’m so excited for you to read this one ;) lots of pining, a little magic and the boys generally being idiots.

All credits to @lumosinlove​ Thank youuuuuuuu <3

tws in the tags!

~

Chapter 3

Logan sighed, his hair still damp from his shower. He’d always showered after a job. It helped him feel cleaner somehow. He kicked his feet up onto the table, texting Finn about his whereabouts and what he wanted for dinner. He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

He received Finn’s reply a few minutes later; Meet me outside, there’s something I want to show you. 

Logan perked up at that, shopping his gun into the back of his jeans, tugging the oversized hoodie down over his ass to cover it up. Hr grabbed his coat, snagging Finn one of those cola lollipops he liked so much. 

He met Finn by the car, a sleek black Lamborghini. The redhead leaned against the matte black door, his red curls slipping over his forehead as he texted somebody on his phone. 

“Wanna tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sauntered over to his….friend. Finn’s head snapped up, his expression melting into an easy smile when he saw Logan walking over. 

“Not yet. Get in.” Finn said, ducking into the driver’s seat. Logan walked over to the other side, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile when he saw the milkshake Finn had got him. The man in question looked over, huffing a small laugh when he saw Logan looking. 

“It’s chocolate. With extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top.” 

Logan’s heart stuttered. Finn had noticed. Not just noticed, but memorised his order. He shoved away the wave of overwhelming feeling that threatened to swallow him whole and picked up the cup. His eyes fell shut at the first sip of cold against his throat. 

He’d always gravitated towards the sickly sweet. Tooth-rottingly sugary cakes and coffees and pancakes. Maybe it was to fight the bitter darkness that roiled inside him, maybe it was because he liked the juxtaposition of a vicious criminal digging into a tub of ice cream, or maybe it was simply because he’d liked the sugar. 

He was glad to be the one sitting in the passenger seat. He had a perfect view of Finn, a hand resting casually on the wheel, the other resting on the windowsill, scarred fingers tangled in the mess of curls. Maybe Logan liked sweet because of the way the sunlight hit Finn’s eye’s the brown looking like molten chocolate and warm coffee, the way the rays danced through his hair making it look like spun sugar, those lips gleaming like— Logan snapped out of his thoughts, choking a little on his milkshake, He turned away resolutely, turning to fiddle with the radio instead. He leaned forward, reaching out for the volume button when he felt something jab into his thigh. 

Logan frowned, leaning back to pull the lollipop from his pocket, nudging Finn’s shoulder with it until he laughed and plucked it out of Logan’s fingers. 

“Thank you, Tremz, I love these. Unwrap it for me?” Finn chuckled, the infernal candy hanging between his fingers like those cigarettes he occasionally smoked. 

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbing it and ripping the plastic off. “A Big boy mob boss, but he still can’t unwrap his own lollipops. What would your associates say?” He teased, putting the candy into Finn’s waiting mouth. The slight brush of his fingers against his friend’s lips made his heart clench, and he pulled away quickly, his cheeks heating up. 

Finn laughed, flicking his tongue around the sweet, pulling the car into an underground parking lot. Logan raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Finn. His eyes crinkled as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, straightening his sweater as he stepped out of the car. 

“Wait and watch.” 

~

As it turned out, Finn had taken Logan to a park, the easy winds of spring spreading the smell of churros through the air. Logan smiled as Finn walked them both to the churro truck, grinning at June as he ordered their usual— churros drowning in Nutella. 

Logan zoned out of Finn and June’s animated conversation, choosing to ignore their not-so-subtle flirtation in favour of looking around the park. It was a gorgeous day; people walked their dogs or lounged on benches, and Logan idly mused about what life would be like if it were so bloody normal. 

He sighed, blocking out June’s tinkling laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes he wondered what his life would’ve been like had he not been thrust into this one. It was his father’s fault, really, taking loan after loan after loan from the snakes to keep his family alive. Logan almost scoffed aloud; family? More like drinking habit. Marius had tried, he really had, but it hadn’t been enough. What little savings they’s had after Marius had lost his job had quickly sputtered out, leaving them with little to no choices. And damn him if Logan were to ever allow his sisters to sell their bodies on the streets. 

And when money from the loans had run out, well, the snakes had come to collect a debt. 

Logan rubbed unconsciously at the scar tissue on his thigh, cringing a little at the memory of Crouch junior’s knife tearing through his leg, skin and muscle ripping under the vicious blade. Logan carried the scar proudly. He had fought like hell to keep his sisters and his mother safe, and damn if he wasn’t proud of the badge he wore as a testament to the fact. 

“Thanks, Junebug! We’ll see you around!” Finn called, nudging Logan with a shoulder. “Shall we?” 

Logan swallowed the hurt that rose in his throat, smiling at Finn as he grabbed a churro. 

“Tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, licking a spot of Nutella off his pinky. 

Finn smiled. “Almost there.”

Logan’t interest piqued when Finn led him to a crowd gathered seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Logan raised an eyebrow at Finn.

The redhead winked. “Consider it an early Christmas present”

“Harz, it’s May” 

Finn waved him off, shoving a dripping churro into his mouth “Go see” he said, the words a little muffled through the food. 

Logan skirted through the crowd, finding his was to the front. 

Oh.

Oh.

Logan’s heart all but dropped out of his chest. He’d never been so glad for his penchant for subtle disguises. His baseball cap pulled low, the aviators hiding most of the top half of his face. He was almost positive he wouldn’t be recognised. 

But then Leo looked up.

And the whole world stopped. 

Leo didn’t stop his movements for even a second, his fingers flipping the cards swiftly, his lips never stopping the sweet sweet illusion he was spinning for the poor bastard about to lose his money. 

But he looked Logan dead in the eye and conned the man out of a full 150 dollars, grinning like the devil as he did it. The man walked away down 150 bucks and a watch. 

“How about that gentleman there? Would you like to try, sir? Maybe lady luck will favour you this fine evening” Leo grinned, nodding in the capocrimine’s direction.

Logan smiled, letting a little of the lion show as he eased his way out of the crowd to join Leo in the middle. 

“How much would you bet, sir? 50? 100? 150?”

Logan slapped 200 dollars on the table. 

“Well well well,” Leo raised a brow. “Let’s play.” 

~

Logan tried very very hard to keep his gaze on the cards, but how could he when Leo’s nimble fingers darted around them looking ever so tantalising. Logan was utterly mesmerised, and by the time Leo asked him to find the Lady, he hadn’t the slightest clue as to where she was.

Logan picked the card closest to his hand. He’d never had a chance in hell, anyway. 

Needless to say, by the end of it, Leo had an extra two hundred dollars to his name. As Logan got up to walk away, he heard Leo call out from behind him.

“Sir! You forgot something!”

He turned to find Leo holding his wallet up with two fingers, a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Oh he was good.

Logan smiled, stalking back to him. “Ah, stupid of me. Thank you.”

Leo just winked at him as he walked off, their fingers brushing for the fraction of a section when Logan took his wallet back.

He spotted Finn amongst the people immediately, grinning like a damn fool as he walked over to him. Logan opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. 

“I know.” Finn said. “I know” 

The quiet joy in Finn’s eyes damn near killed Logan, and it was an effort of self-control to not kiss him right there. No. He was impossible. Logan could never have him. They were mob bosses. It would be hell to pay if the world ever found the one thing he’d save above all others. 

Logan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the brown curls. He frowned at the scratch of paper under his sleeve and pulled the fabric up to find a card underneath. His breath caught, and he turned it over to find the queen of hearts sitting there.

Oh, this was going to be fun .

Logan’s grin widened at the message scrawled across the lady with thick black ink. In Leo’s slanting script it read;

Better luck next time.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Please tell us about the cinema, I beg you

Oh boy...that accursed night. If you think fanfic plots are chaotic, just wait for this story.

Story under the cut:

So, I just got this job at my small town’s local theatre. I genuinely enjoyed it, and was quite content with the way things were going—fun shifts, cool coworkers, and a nice boss. So I thought.

I was only two weeks in when the “incident” occurred.

At the theatre, we had to collect a walkie talkie radio at the start of every shift, and sign it in and out with a piece of paper in the office.

It was a little clunky and annoying when cleaning cinemas with vacuums, but nothing to cry over.

One night, I’m put to work with a new supervisor I hadn’t met before and some new coworkers (they’d all been there a while, but this was my first shift with them).

For a little context, I’m 19, and most of the other employees were like 15-17. So, I was basically being bossed around by pretentious, power-tripping kids. Fun.

King Kong vs Godzilla had just been released, so of course, the theatre was packed that night — 130 people per room.

Now, we usually have 20-30 minute intervals between sessions to clean the cinemas, but with the release of a new movie, it was cut down in half, sometimes less.

I was cleaning the most popular cinema that night, and was first told to take my time, as it needed to be spotless. Also, side note, can people please not throw popcorn everywhere? It’s a pain to clean. Then again, I don’t work there anymore nor ever will, so do what you want, I suppose.

My little coworker told me to take my radio off my belt and put it aside to get a good vacuum going through each aisle, as it apparently made it easier, as the cord would sometimes get wrapped around the radio stem.

Fair enough.

I did so, and left it on the wooden platform of the rows to begin vacuuming. He leaves and I get to work.

However, he comes rushing back a few minutes later and says, “what the hell are you still cleaning for?? We’ve got a hundred people waiting outside???”

I’m over it™️ at this point because I only took this job to see the behind the scenes of how a cinema works. I shrug and go, “okay”

I pack the vacuum up and try to leave hastily, as he’s being very antsy and pushy.

He gets frustrated and grabs the rest of my cleaning crap to leave, and tells me to hurry up behind him.

My hands are full and I can’t grab the radio, so I say, “what about the walkie talkie?”

I swear I hear him say, “leave it, there’s no time!”

I shrug and think it’s weird, but trust him to know better.

However, once I dump my crap and prepare to leave, as a hundred people are pushing in behind me, my intuition tells me to grab the walkie talkie.

I rush back in to where I left it, and find it missing

I have a brief moment of “oh shit”

However, I think to myself, “it’s okay, you only took this job for shits and giggles. If they fire you, you have your other job anyways. What’s the worst that can happen?”

If only I knew.

An hour goes by into my shift, and I’m cleaning another cinema with the same coworker. I’ve kind of shoved the walkie talkie thing to the back of my mind, because I was doing a closing shift that night and could probably get away with not facing my manager about the sign out sheet.

However, at one point the boy goes, “where’s your radio??”

Sheepishly, I say, “uh...I left it in cinema 3, like you told me to?”

He sort of pales and I think this little skinny high schooler is about to pass out.

He starts yelling at me and tells me that I need to get my flashlight and start checking every single row in there.

I go, “fuck no, the movie is still going? You want me to flash a torch in the peoples’ faces during King Kong?? The one cinema hosting the entirety of the sweaty balls side of reddit right now???”

He gets very shitty and says, “I’ll do it myself, wait here.”

By now I know I’m in the shit, but shrug and remember I can always escape through the vents if need be.

Now, there was this really fucking annoying 15 year old boy I was working with that night, who’s the definition of the “well aCtUaLlY” guy irl

He comes sprinting into the theatre I was cleaning, and starts literally interrogating me over this walkie talkie. Like, he thinks he’s the “bad cop” or some shit. Other coworkers closer to my age had already warned me about him before I even met him.

The other boy I was working with apparently couldn’t find it, and just didn’t want to deal with the consequences that night so much, that he called his mum to come pick him up early.

Weakling child.

It was at this point that I quietly arrived at the conclusion of “they think I stole it”

I didn’t understand why, it’s a fucking walkie talkie? What’s the big deal? Go get a Dora the Explorer one to replace it from Target??

I let my inner Mickey Milkovich come out, and play cool.

Him: you fucking stole it

Me:

This 15 year old Ben Shapiro-looking fucker starts grilling me, and literally places me under theatre arrest. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room I was cleaning, in other words.

He gets uncomfortably close—just me and this weird boy in this dark theatre—and goes, “I want you to be brutally honest with me...did you take the walkie talkie? I won’t tell the manager that you did.”

If you guys know me well enough from my blog, then you know this boy suffered a great deal of aggressive sarcasm in response.

He gets pissed (brown-noser), and tells me to continue cleaning, as he leaves the theatre.

Only ten minutes go by until he comes back, but this time with “good cop”.

I roll my eyes, and turn the vacuum off.

They stand at the bottom of the cinema blocking my entrance with their arms folded, and start interrogating me about stealing it.

I give them some more Mickey Milkovich sarcasm, as I had already explained to them a hundred times what happened.

They involve the manager (snitches) and now I’m really in trouble.

They force me to go into the cinema whilst the movie is still playing to look for it. Begrudgingly grabbing my flashlight, and preparing for rightfully angry people as I search their crotches in the middle of a highly anticipated movie, I head inside theatre 3.

Fuck doing that though, I watch the movie instead with the people and eat some popcorn.

Figuring a reasonable amount of time to search had gone by, I sadly leave the cool laser battle scene, and head back out.

Me: “I searched and couldn’t find it.”

Power-complex 15 year old with a punchable Ben Shapiro face: “Did you look everywhere in the cinema??”

Me: “Yeah, I shoved a flashlight up seat 33’s asshole and checked it myself.”

Some more pissy exchanges take place, and I’m told to go clean another cinema.

I’m having fun at this point, because I’ve worked enough jobs to know this situation was being dealt with incredibly immaturely by the other staff.

Regarding accidents like these in the workplace, and given how big the cinema chain is, they should know insurance covers a simple walkie talkie, and that assuming the new employee stole something which is misplaced is a bad way to integrate them into your company. It’s simply a bad look for your business.

I’m cleaning another cinema when all three come in, and tell me they’re going to put cinema 3 on lockdown when the movie ends, and check everyone’s bags.

I’m amused at this point, so I really just go “damn bro that’s wild”

They do exactly that, and it’s as awkward as you can imagine.

People are angry and annoyed—all 130 of them at 9:30pm huddled in a group, having their bags searched for a damn walkie talkie.

After discovering no one had actually stolen it, like I said, they start interrogating me again.

“Are you sure it was cinema 3??? Is your memory perhaps failing you???”

“If I say yes, will I go home sooner?” (my shift ended 15 minutes ago, and I wasn’t allowed to leave)

Naturally, I stayed another 40 minutes, and had to search the entire building. I’m talking arcade, toilets, offices—everywhere.

It is eventually deemed completely lost, and I basically end the night saying, “well, I ain’t about to strip nude for you all for a full body search, and although I’ve never had such a fun shift anywhere else, I’m not a fan of work environments that promote skepticism and cohort-wide distrust. I ain’t coming in next week, or the week after that, or the...well, I think you get the point.”

I leave my badge behind, and basically book it out of the cinema an hour after my shift was supposed to end. I worked illegally longer than I was supposed to, and wasn’t given the legal shift break.

I received text messages and emails from the head office shortly after, asking if I was coming back, and ignored them for a little while, as although I can handle irl confrontation, virtual ones spook me?

Anywho, the walkie talkie actually costs $1000, but as mentioned before, I, an adult, recognise insurance covers these sorts of things, especially in companies as big as these.

So, moral of the story, don’t leave 15 year olds in charge of adults, because most of the time, they’re too young to realise what insurance policies are :)

[threeletterslife]

01 | Ignis Fatuus

→ part 1 | part 2

→ summary: Who knew six grown men plus stupid Jeon Jungkook were so whiny? You're out here in a fucking zombie apocalypse for God's sake. They need to grow the fuck up. And while all of you are waiting for the zombies to eat your brains, why don't you play a nice game of rated-R never have I ever?

→ pairing/rating: jungkook x reader | NC-17

→ genre: 60% crack, 40% angst | apocalypse!au

→ warnings: profanity, depictions of blood, gore and death, sexual innuendos, crude humor

→ wordcount: 26k

cr.

Jeon Jungkook's taut thigh muscles are digging against your own, making you grit your teeth and glare at the rather annoying individual. The city bus bumps along with the dips on the street, pushing the man way too close to you. You can even smell his spearmint cologne.

"Jeon, I swear to fucking god if you scoot any closer to me, I'm going to swing your head off with my bat," you threaten menacingly, already tightening your grip on your beloved softball bat.

To your dismay, Jeon Jungkook gives you a cheeky grin before leaning his perfectly fit body on you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with calculated subtlety. "Oh, Y/N," he chuckles under his breath, fingers dancing around the handle of his own baseball bat. "You forget that I also have a bat with me. Besides," he hums, squeezing your shoulder, "you and I both know your threats are always empty. I think you told me you were going to dislocate my neck at least a thousand times before. My neck's still fine, as you can clearly see."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever, Jeon," you mutter before leaning against his chest in defeat.

Your relationship with Jeon Jungkook is quite questionable. It would be weird to call him your friend, but even weirder to call him your enemy. Jungkook was... an acquaintance... who you merely got a bit touchy with at times. In a way, he was kinda like your fuck buddy, minus the fucking, of course. A friend with benefits minus the friend and benefits. None of that made any sense whatsoever. But that's just how fucking complicated your relationship with him is.

You'd first met the 19-year-old on the bus, catching him unabashedly eyeing you up and down. You boldly called him out for that. That bus ride was awkward because you'd spent the whole time tugging down your shorts and glaring at Jungkook, and he'd glared at you right back because apparently, he hadn't been checking you out that day. (He had been shamelessly ogling at the Victoria's Secret ad plastered on the wall behind the window of your seat.) But you didn't know that at the time, of course.

It was even worse when you got off at the same stop—at the practice field. But an unlikely 'friendship' had blossomed after that day. There was something about that Jeon Jungkook that was captivating to you, and there must be something about you that had captivated Jungkook. Ever since that incident, the two of you wordlessly saved each other seats on the local bus, and once at the field, he always walked you to your softball practice field before he sauntered off to play baseball.

Despite the constant bickering between the two of you, you swear leaning up against him, or having him wrap his arm around you feels natural.

You're just too damn stubborn to admit it out loud.

Looking up, you get an unobstructed view of Jungkook's sharp jawline, how his nose stands in all the right angles, and how his eyes sparkle when he—oh shit—your eyes meet his. Mission abort! Mission abort!

He caught you checking him out.

Oh god no. Your face flushes red, dreading what kind of saucy comment Jungkook would have for you.

But to your surprise, he squeezes you tighter, holding you close to him as his eyes are trained straight in front of him. "What in the world..." he breathes.

"What?" you mutter, confused. Your eyes trail up to follow his line of vision.

Oh, what the fuck.

"Isn't it too early for Halloween get up?" You frown, cocking your head at the mangled figure that's slowly limping its way towards the stopped bus. But one figure quickly becomes two, then, three, four, five, ten—twenty. All staggering towards the bus.

You can only seem to focus on the hoard of hobbling figures as your eyes follow their every jagged move. But one moment you're shaking your head in disdain at cheesy 'costumes,' the next you feel bile rushing up your throat.

One of the mangled figures hobbles up to an innocent pedestrian on the street and attacks them. And not like how a normal human being would do—not with fists, or some man-made weapon. But with decaying teeth. You see with your very own eyes a... a monster bite through the neck of a human—and although you are too far away, you swear you heard the crunch of bones. You most definitely see blood.

It's so horrific, the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall.

The innocent victim's screams are silent, mouth open, neck gashed apart by their attacker. Their blood is splattered everywhere and their eyes are glossed over. Lifeless. Dead. Soon to be undead.

Oh my god.

You jerk your head away, unable to look any further, placing your hand on your heart in an attempt to calm it down—no use. Your breaths become shallow and quicken as you grip your fists in order to keep yourself from vomiting and making the situation worse than it already is.

Oh god. Oh, fuck.

The images of blood and gore are sealed to your head. It's too real to be fake.

It pains you to realize that... that this is obviously not some Halloween get up.

"Fucking hell, Y/N... I don't think those are people," Jungkook says, holding you protectively in his arms. "They look a lot like—"

"ZOMBIES!" a man in a crisp, black suit shrieks, jumping up and running to the very back of the bus to where you and Jungkook are sitting.

"ZOMBIES!" the others on the bus scream in response.

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Suit Man hollers, curling up in the back seat as he rocks back and forth. With his neat and tidy suit, he definitely looks like he doesn't belong in a public transportation vehicle. In fact, he looks like he's never even used any public service. The kind of person who probably owns a private jet or something. "GET ME MY SECRETARY!" he shrieks.

He is not helping.

Another man stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. His dyed dirt blond hair sweeps just above his eyes and you can see his dimples when he presses his lips into a thin line. "Hey, bus driver?" he calls.

The bus driver grunts. "What?" he yells. His hands are shaking, but he's doing a hell of a good job maintaining a steady hand on the wheel.

"Maybe we should turn on the radio?" Dimples Man suggests. "We need some sort of explanation for this!!"

"Um, maybe we should, I don't know, drive away first???" another man suggests. He's clutching a Gucci messenger bag and nervously twists an Apple Watch on his wrist. He seems a lot like the younger version of Suit Man—except he was just born rich with a silver spoon in his mouth.

"The zombies are coming towards us!" Jungkook shouts. "Of course we need to drive away!" He squeezes your arm. "We need to get home, now!"

"You and your girlfriend can wait!" Suit Man hollers. "I want to go to my penthouse suite, first!"

"Why are you a priority?!" a man with puffy cheeks and plump lips argues. "We all have equal rights in a crisis! Cop in training!" he huffs, holding out an official-looking badge. "Bus driver, step on the gas!"

The bus driver rolls his eyes. "I do whatever the fuck I want on my bus."

Contrary to his unyielding attitude, he clicks on the radio and simultaneously steps on the gas.

Everyone lurches backward and some of the men who were standing fall down. For a few seconds, it's all chaos—shouts and yells bounce off the walls of the bus. All until the fuzzy crackles of the radio emit from the speakers.

Then, everyone becomes dead silent, waiting to hear what the news had to say.

But the radio static is so serious, you're unable to make out a lot of the words.

"... Inside... Not... Anywhere... Stay Inside..."

"What the fuck is wrong with your radio??" Suit Man complains.

"It's not my radio, you idiotic swine. The problem's not from my end," the bus driver snaps.

"Idiotic swine?!?! How dare—"

"Oh shut up, will you??" a man who had been quietly sitting down this whole time laughs. He twiddles a frying pan in his hands before he says, "Stay inside?? Don't you think it's too late for us to do that?"

Suit Man scowls, slumping down in his seat and grumbling about how important he is and how much he needs his secretary—who's apparently not answering his frantic texts and calls.

Abruptly, the bus driver swerves to the right to avoid limping zombies, but he manages to run some of the monsters over anyway. The bus hovers over the air for a few seconds, then crashes down on the road, jerking everyone in their seats.

You and Jungkook say nothing, you holding onto Jungkook and Jungkook holding onto his seat. But the others are more vocal.

"Hey, who taught you how to drive, motherfucker?!" Gucci Man yells.

The cop holds up his hands. "Are you even going under the speed limit??"

Oh my god. These men are driving you insane.

And just when you thought it couldn't get worse:

"No... Origin... Rapidly... Increasing..." the radio suddenly buzzes.

"Well, great," Dimples Man sighs. "Seems like the cases are multiplying out of nowhere. Maybe it's some kind of new virus. An epidemic, if you please."

"Oh, sit down, doctor boy," Suit Man yells at the tops of his lungs. "No one cares about the how. Right now, we focus on getting away from these monsters!"

Jungkook slips his hands into yours. The two of you look out the window to see the zombies chasing after the bus from behind. They're thankfully too slow to catch up to the bus driver's 85 miles per hour reckless driving, but they're not as slow as some movies depict them.

You watch the turmoil unfold behind you, disgusted and terrified at the same time. There are zombies trying to knock their heads against the glass to get into stores where trembling families are waiting to fight. Zombies biting the necks of victims. Blood spurting everywhere and painting the streets in crimson red.

You have to look away after some time.

It's too much to process.

The bus driver continues to make random twists and turns, making the bus lurch every which way every few seconds. The six men continue to argue, raising their voices over each other until you can't even make out what they're saying.

They're acting like babies, you think. You admit, you're terrified, which is exactly why you haven't said one single word out loud yet. Jungkook taps your shoulder, leaning into you. You catch a whiff of his cologne and strangely, it relaxes you.

"Hey," he whispers. "You okay?"

You manage to nod.

"Think this has spread to other cities yet...? Other states?"

Oh god.

The thought of that is horrific.

"I... I hope not... My family's in a state across the country though..." you manage to say in a low voice.

"Same..."

This time, it's your turn to ask a question.

"Do you think we'll ever get to our homes?"

Jungkook snorts in response. "Well, maybe not. I have no idea where that crazy bus driver's taking us."

And it's true, five different men are yelling at the bus driver to tell them where the fuck he's going, but the bus driver remains completely silent. Instead, he flips everyone off with one hand, vigorously steering the wheel with the other.

Everyone goes absolutely bonkers after that.

You've heard blaring fire alarms that sound like music compared to this.

"You have earphones?" Jungkook asks.

"Well, yeah..." you trail off. "But maybe we shouldn't listen to music now. We should save our phone batteries."

"Oh yeah, duh," Jungkook grins in a silly way. "My bad."

This is kind of the first time that you and Jungkook have been civil and kind of nice to each other. I guess it takes a whole ass zombie epidemic for that to happen.

You just try to focus on clutching onto Jungkook, trying to drown out the incessant yelling of the man babies.

And finally, fucking finally, the bus skids to a stop. But not in front of a house, but in front of a familiar-looking red and beige building. Your mouth drops open.

"TARGET???" Cop Man shrieks. "You brought us to Target??"

"Genius, aren't I?" the bus driver grins, leaning back from the steering wheel as if to admire his handy work. "This is my new home. The rest of you can leave if you don't like it."

Nobody moves a muscle.

You desperately want to go back home, but you have to admit, living in Target sounds pretty smart. Endless supply of blankets and food. A ton of gadgets to build when you get bored. At least one of the men on the bus has a brain. Thank god.

"I can't drive you guys home," the bus driver says a little bit more apologetically. "But you saw what's out there. I'm not going to waste gas getting everyone to their homes. And I surely don't wanna risk my life just to get you home, okay? I'm not your chauffeur. So you can stay with me if you like. Or you can walk home yourself."

"I can pay you to be my chauffeur," Suit Man mumbles.

The bus driver's ears perk up. "How much?"

"One grand."

"Ha!" the bus driver snorts. "You think I need money in a supposed apocalypse?? No thanks."

"I'LL PAY YOU THREE GRAND!" Gucci Man shrieks. "I-I'll call my parents! They always have cash on them!"

Frying Pan Man rolls his eyes way up to the ceiling of the bus and waits three dramatic seconds until he stares straight at Suit Man and Gucci Man. "Shut up, ya spoiled brats," he says. "Stop trying to bribe the bus driver and take his fucking offer to stay with him."

The others nod, agreeing with the Frying Pan Man's wise but snippy words.

Suit Man and Gucci Man shut up when they realize their wealth can't get them out of the situation this time.

"Well then," Jungkook sighs. "We all agree to stick together now, right? Nice group of people, aren't we?"

The last part sounds a tad bit sarcastic, but the others seem to take it as a compliment.

"First thing's first," Jungkook announces, "you there!" He points at the Suit Man. "Use your jacket to cover up that window over there. You!" He continues to point at the men, ordering them to place their jackets and bags over the windows. The bus driver manages to cover up the glass doors with a spare blanket he found in the glove compartment.

You just stare at Jungkook in awe. You're even more in awe that everyone is following his orders.

"If the zombies can't see us, they won't get us," Jungkook says very knowledgeably. "At least I think so. Just in case, we should all crouch down though."

"Are you serious? I'm not sitting my ass down on the bus floor," Suit Man scoffs.

"I'm wearing Gucci," Gucci Man complains.

The bus driver grins. "They scraped twenty pieces of gum off the floor only a week ago."

"I think we can all agree that we could've totally done without that information," Cop Man sighs.

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. "My god, would you rather die than get your pants a little dirty? Come on, Y/N." He tugs you down on the floor and the two of you sit cross-legged. "It's not even that bad."

One by one, the men follow you and Jungkook, sitting down, if not crouching, on the floor. Even Suit Man and Gucci Man obey Jungkook, though they have disgruntled looks on their faces.

"Now what?" Frying Pan Man says. "We wait this whole thing out? Until it's safe to get into Target?"

"I suppose so," Dimples Man says. "A little waiting never hurt anyone."

Suit Man rolls his eyes. "You would be terrible in the business world."

"I'm a respected med school student, thank you very much," Dimples Man replies curtly. "I don't need business lessons from you."

"Okay, okay!" Jungkook raises his voice. "You know what? Let's just introduce ourselves to each other. You know, ages, hobbies, whatever, I don't care. Just something the others can use to get to know you. We might be stuck together for a while. I'll start," he says. "I'm Jungkook. 19. I play baseball in college, and I'm pretty fucking good. Okay, who's next?"

Cop Man raises his hand politely. "I'm Jimin," he giggles as if his name itself is the cutest thing in the world. "And I'm the top-ranking cop in training," he says. "Oh yeah, I'm 21 years old. And I just got wasted two days ago when I turned 21."

"Yoongi," the bus driver says. "I drive this bus. 25. Next."

Everyone frowns at his short introduction but Yoongi shrugs.

"Hello, everyone," Dimples man says. "I'm Namjoon. I studied biochemistry in college, but I'm currently aiming for my M.D. I'm 24 right now, but I'll be 25 in a couple of months. It's nice to meet you."

Everyone mumbles their greetings back, but no one is really in a jolly mood.

"Well, I'm Seokjin, a worldwide famous chef," Frying Pan Man says. That explains the frying pan a lot. "I—"

"If you're so worldwide famous, how come I've never heard of you before until now?" Gucci Man snickers.

"Shut the fuck up," Seokjin answers simply. "I will be a worldwide famous chef. I'm interning at the esteemed restaurant, the Summit House. And for my 25th birthday, I got this lovely, new frying pan. I bring it with me everywhere because it is my lifeline."

You raise your eyebrows and so does Jungkook but neither of you says anything.

"I'm Taehyung, then," Gucci Man says. "I'm 23, but I'm already a law school student. Work hard and play even harder is my life motto. Also, I like expensive stuff."

That explains the Gucci.

Suit Man scoffs. "I'm Hoseok, but all of you must call me Mr. Jung because I'm 27 and I'm the respectful CEO of a rapidly growing business right in this city. I've been on the cover of Vogue twice this year alone. Any questions?"

"None at all, Hoseok," Yoongi snorts.

Hoseok scowls. "I just said—"

"Oh, shut your trap and let the girl talk," Seokjin chastises the businessman. You're starting to think Seokjin has a talent for shutting people up.

Well, great. Now everyone's staring at you. And it's only then when it occurs to you that you are the only female in the group. Oh god.

"I'm uh, Y/N..." you say. "And I... I play softball," you say, gripping your bat in your hand. "I'm 19 and I play for my college team."

"She's really good," Jungkook says. "Got that nice swing." He nudges your shoulder assuringly. It almost makes you crack a small smile. "Anyways, now that we all know each other a little bit better, let's be... uh..."

"Civil," you finish for him. "Let's please be fucking civil." You stare at Hoseok and Taehyung specifically.

"Fine!" Hoseok says. "Fine, then. Let's be totally civil trying to fight off uncivil monsters. Makes sense to me."

"We need to stay civil to stay calm," Jimin says, putting a hand on his hip. "My special cop training taught me how to stay calm in dire situations! I'll teach you guys a thing or two sometime."

"Oh god," Yoongi mutters.

"More importantly," Namjoon sighs. "If this is a zombie breakout, we'll need to start strategizing on how to stay safe. We'll need to gather supplies, make a hideout and find some weapons." He looks over at Jungkook and your bats, nodding his head approvingly. "Those will do good," he mutters. "But I'm afraid hiding out in Target might be a bit difficult. The building is large. Way too large for it to be safe..."

"Do you have any better suggestions then?" Yoongi says.

"Not as of now..."

"I say we go full-out," Taehyung declares. "Like we get cool leather jackets and sunglasses and make spiked bats and get guns!!"

"You mean... like in the movies," Hoseok scoffs. "Kid, hate to break it to you, but this is real life."

"Okay, but Taehyung might have a point," Jungkook says.

"Thank you!!" the law student exclaims.

"Yeah, maybe we can use some elements of what characters did in the movies and you know, apply it to our situation now," you say thoughtfully. "So we're not going into this catastrophe completely blinded."

"You read my mind," Jungkook smiles. You manage to smile right back at him.

"Whatever," Hoseok sighs. "I'm gonna call my secretary again."

Everyone else ignores him, opting to do their own individual activities.

Namjoon pulls a giant binder out of nowhere and begins to actively highlight things. It looks a lot like he's studying. In a fucking crisis.

You shake your head in disbelief. Med school students, I swear.

Taehyung taps away on his phone. Either texting or playing Candy Crush. You can't tell. Seokjin's sanitizing his precious frying pan while Jimin's polishing his official badge over and over again. In the far corner of the bus, it looks like Yoongi's dozed off.

The silence is awkward but it's much better than the complete ruckus before, so you let it go. Meanwhile, you take out your earbuds. It won't hurt to let some music distract you and calm down your spiked nerves.

"Hey, what percent battery is your phone at?" you whisper to Jungkook.

"23%, you?"

"23%?!" you gasp. "Why is it so low??"

"Forgot to charge it last night," Jungkook answers, ducking his head down in embarrassment. "Could not have been a worse timing."

"Well, I'm at 97%, so I guess we can listen to music on my phone." You plug in the earphones and hand one bud to Jungkook.

He takes it gratefully. "Thanks."

You feel much more relaxed when the music floods through your ear. If Jungkook doesn't like Beethoven's Sonata, he doesn't complain. And everything, just for a few songs, seems all right.

Until:

"Dammit! Godammit!!" Hoseok yells, flinging his phone to the side of the bus seat. "My phone's dead!"

There are annoyed groans everywhere, and you can just tell Seokjin's about to tell the man to shut up again when there's a loud bang! at the side of the bus.

Everyone freezes.

"Did you lock the bus door??" Namjoon hisses quietly.

Yoongi nods, clearly terrorized. "Just... everybody... Stay... still," he says.

He doesn't need to say anything; everyone's already become a statue. Even more so when the aggressive banging continues. You bite your lip to suppress a whimper and Jungkook hugs you in his arms. His heartbeat's rapid but he manages not to tremble, unlike you.

But when the banging is ceaseless even after a couple of minutes, Taehyung sighs. "Should we check it out...?"

"Are you fucking crazy??" you blurt, quickly lowering your voice when you realize you'd been rather loud. "If the zombies see us, they get us. I thought you saw the movies."

That shuts everyone up. Sweat starts to collect on everybody's foreheads but no one dares to move to wipe it off when the banging's continuing.

It sounds like zombies are head-butting on the bus' walls. Maybe they can smell humans. The thought riles up your stomach so you force yourself to bury your nose into Jungkook's shirt to take your mind elsewhere. He pats your back comfortingly in response.

The Chopin blaring through your left ear doesn't sound so comforting anymore—the pace is too fast, too allegro to fit in a terrible circumstance such as this one. But you try to focus on each note, concentrating on the keys rather than the beat. It drives your focus elsewhere, thank god.

And finally, eventually, the banging slows to a stop.

"Well!" Taehyung yells.

"SHH!" Jungkook shushes him. "We don't know if they're gone yet," he whispers urgently.

"Oh, right."

So it's completely still for a few minutes before Taehyung decides that's enough silence for him.

"This is very, very bad news," he grumbles.

"Really?" Seokjin snickers. "I thought it was good news."

Taehyung rolls his eyes. "My Apple Watch's about to die. So yes, it is bad news. I won't be able to tell the time anymore."

"That's the least of our worries, dude," Jimin says, shaking his head in disbelief.

Before another large argument breaks out, you cut in. "I think we should try to get into Target before nightfall."

You thought everyone would agree immediately, but you're hit with Yoongi's laconic, "Why?"

"What do you mean why??" Taehyung laughs at the bus driver. "Haven't you watched the movies?? Zombies get crazier during the night."

"Um, in Train to Busan, they don't," Namjoon points out.

"Okay, but in Minecraft, they do," Taehyung argues.

"But Minecraft is a video game, not a movie."

"Oh, whatever."

You sigh. "I just thought it'd be better to go now than take chances later."

"But this is real life," the bus driver says. "Getting out of this bus is taking a chance at this point. We might not ever make it to Target."

"Fine. Then I'll go and check it out myself then," you scoff.

I'd rather get mauled by a zombie than have to listen to incessant bickering in a small-spaced bus for fuck's sake.

"You literally have a death wish don't you?" Jungkook says. "But I'm coming with you."

"BOTH of you have a death wish," Hoseok says.

"OR, Yoongi can drive the bus closer to the entrance...?" you suggest.

The bus driver grumbles but he complies, never taking off the clothes covering the windows but managing to peek out of a small corner to safely drive the bus straight to the exit.

"If one of you gets bitten, you're not allowed back in here," he says.

"How comforting," you mumble.

"I guess it's just the two of us, then," Jungkook shrugs when no one else volunteers to go on the trip.

"Well you two do have the best weapons," Namjoon says, nodding at the bats in your hands.

"That's true..." you murmur. "We'll try to find a good spot to stay in... Or maybe just get some supplies..."

Now that you think about it, your own idea might be the cause of your demise. God, you might die just because you opened your mouth.

It's okay, you tell yourself. It'll be fine. I have Jungkook. He's... not that scared... right?

Namjoon convinces everyone to memorize a morse code knock so that the others can let you and Jungkook in when the code is knocked on the bus door. There is no other preparation.

Other than the time you completely winged a final exam back in high school, this is the riskiest thing you've done in your life.

Side by side, you and Jungkook creep out of the bus; the doors shut behind you as quickly as they had opened and the blanket drapes over the windows once more.

The coast definitely looks clear... for now. Warily, you and Jungkook step closer to the entrance of Target. That's when it occurs to you that Target has automatic doors.

You and Jungkook look at each other. With your eyes, both of you communicate something on the lines of 'so much for living here.'

It's a universal fact that zombies are stupid and can't complete simple human tasks such as opening doors. But if Target's doors are automatic... Well, then anyone can come in. Human or zombie.

The two of you creep into the store with caution, scanning from left to right to see any source of movement. Luckily, so far, the building seems empty. It just must be your luck that today happens to be a weekday and the time is barely before noon. Plus, you're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and everyone was ordered to stay home. For the most part, it looks like this Target is abandoned. It helps calm down your rapidly beating heart just a little bit.

Still, the silence is eerie. Clutching your baseball bat, you try to make a mental list of the supplies you might need to take. From the checkout aisle, you and Jungkook each grab two plastic bags each.

"What are the top five things we need?" Jungkook whispers to you.

"Um, food, probably," you say. "Toiletries, for sure. Sleeping bags, maybe? Chargers... Portable chargers...?"

"What about water?" Jungkook says. "Maybe we should also get a first aid kit too..."

"There's so much we need!" you let out a frustrated sigh. "And I am not going back in here twice. Once is risky enough."

"Well, we definitely need food, water and a first aid kit. Why do we need toiletries?" Jungkook asks, cocking his head curiously.

"Oh, I don't know, because I bleed out of my vagina once every month??"

"Oh. Right. Forgot about that," Jungkook says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "So, um... we need food, water, a first aid kit, toiletries and..."

"A backpack," you finish for him. "We'll carry the backpacks out on our backs, fill two of our four bags with food, then one bag we can use for water and water bottles. The last bag for the first aid kit and the toiletries."

"Look at you, all planned out," Jungkook grins. You wonder how he's managing to smile in a crisis.

"I'm usually very spontaneous," you mutter. "But I guess it takes a zombie apocalypse to get me to plan ahead."

Your life's on the line. Of course you're going to plan ahead to avoid death.

Jungkook laughs quietly. "Me too, honestly," he says. "I think I can stuff at least one sleeping bag in the backpack. And maybe we'll get some toilet paper."

You nod. "A flashlight might be good too. We don't really need to get weapons, right? We're only trying to survive, not fight."

"We'd be crazy to get a gun," Jungkook snorts. "Have you seen the grown men we got stuck with?? Giving them a gun might be the worst thing we can do."

"Especially that cop in training," you say. "Idiots. The whole lot of them."

Making the youngest ones do the dirty work.

Conversation is sparse for the rest of the supply gathering. You and Jungkook talk minimally, rather opting to point and mouth words just in case zombies were sound-sensitive as they were portrayed in most movies. (But you're honestly not sure how well their auditory skills work, especially when they're so lacking in motor skills.) Still, better safe than sorry.

Canned foods pile in two heavy bags that Jungkook offers to carry. He also volunteers to carry the bag with the heavy water jugs and water bottles, so you let him, glad that Jungkook is polite enough to keep his manners during an apocalypse. The two of you find large duffel bags in the sports corner, which you sling both over your shoulder. A couple of sleeping bags find their way into the duffel bags. By the time you arrive at the aisle with all the feminine hygiene products, your arms are starting to hurt, but you don't complain because Jungkook's carrying things twice the weight of your luggage.

In fact, you shouldn't complain about anything at all. For one, you're stuck in an apocalypse with someone you know at least. You have someone to lean on. Someone who constantly offers to protect you. Someone you can trust. And you haven't had any run-ins with zombies so far. So you've been blessed.

You clamp your mouth shut and pick out a generous amount of pads and pantyliners, quickly shoving them into the duffel bags. "Let's go," you tell Jungkook who nods. His arm muscles are straining against the heavy weight of the bags and his knuckles are white but he stays silent.

All those times you ever insulted Jungkook, you want to take them all back right now. It only takes a crisis to get to know someone.

The two of you nervously, steadily, begin to walk towards the entrance of the store. It's a pity you won't be able to pay for the hundreds of dollars worth of stuff you're shoplifting. But you don't think money holds enough value in a situation of life or death.

For a split second, you worry that the other men have left. But you don't think they would stoop that low... right?? The thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. If they did leave you and Jungkook stranded in this vast Target... it's game over.

You nearly cry from relief when you see the bus still waiting loyally at the front of the store. Maybe you've underestimated the others.

"Coast's clear," Jungkook whispers. "I'll go first." He begins to creep forward the automatic doors, lugging his bags when you let out a whisper-shriek:

"Wait, stop!"

Jungkook whirls around, eyes wide and lips parted.

"The alarm might ring if you take items you didn't pay for," you whisper urgently. "Leave the stuff here, wait for them to open the door, then help me carry these and make a run for it."

"Well, that was close," Jungkook nods. "Good idea." He sets down his bags and steps forward cautiously. The mechanical whirring of the sliding door opening sounds too loud in the silence. You hold your breath as Jungkook carefully steps closer to the bus, hoping and wishing and swearing. When he knocks at the glass door in the morse code that Namjoon had taught him, you feel ready to burst from the stress.

Constantly, you look behind yourself. If a zombie appears, you'll have to save your life first and lose the supplies. Or maybe, you can carry the food and water first and leave the rest. Or you can try to fight the zombie off with your bat?? But your arms shake from carrying heavy luggage around the whole Target. Your aim might be messed up; you can't risk that, can you?

While you're scheming in your head, Jungkook's managed to get the others to open the door of the bus. The coast is clear now. You gulp.

If the Target alarm sounds and it wakes up any zombies that are nearby, you're dead. You can see the scared faces of the other men peeking out from the door. Jungkook bravely steps back, waving his hands as if to tell them to keep the door open. Then, he rushes back inside the Target, hoisting up the bags.

On cue, you grip your bags too—so tightly that your hands feel numb.

"On a count of three, okay?" Jungkook says.

"No, let's go now!" you whisper as you begin to dash headfirst out the automatic doors. The moment the bags cross the invisible line, the alarm blares. Your heart nearly stops at the racket, but you don't dare to pause. You don't cease your running until you've zoomed right into the bus, collapsing on the floor and throwing the bags away from yourself. Jungkook's right behind you, gasping for breath from the short sprint before whirling on you with a look of frustration on his face.

"I wasn't fucking re—"

"Shh!!" Yoongi says, draping the locked glass door over with a blanket. "We're going to stay very, very still."

You can hear the alarm still blaring in the background, shaking on the floor of the bus and clutching your hands together. Jungkook gives you the side-eye but he crouches down with you and holds you in his arms.

You shouldn't have left earlier, but you couldn't risk waiting for a second more in the empty Target, anticipating for disaster to come. Jungkook must've panicked with you too. But he can't stay mad at you for long, not with another crisis on its way.

"Uh, I think we should go right now," Taehyung whispers.

"Shh!"

"No, seriously," Taehyung says, lifting up the cloth off the windows and pointing.

Oh no. Looks like this is where your luck runs outs. Zombies are slowly making their way towards the entrance of the Target where the stupid alarm still hasn't shut up. If you don't leave now, you might drown in a sea of those monsters. And one rule of thumb—you never let zombies begin to hoard.

"Dammit!" Yoongi curses. "Hold on!"

The zombies are still several yards away, but Yoongi slams on the gas, lurching the car forward. There's no time to think. No time to talk. Yoongi tears away the cloth in front of his window and begins to drive with sickening speed.

"Where are we going??" Hoseok yells over the screams of the engine.

"To my house!" Yoongi screams back.

"WHAT??" the businessman shrieks. "WHY AREN'T WE RUNNING AWAY?"

"Running away attracts more zombies!" Taehyung says. "That always happens in the movies!"

"Does your house have a good kitchen??" Seokjin yells.

"Does it matter???" Yoongi yells back.

"Why can't we go to my house??" Taehyung shrieks.

"Shut the fuck up!" Seokjin tells him.

Yoongi continues to bump over mystery speed bumps (no doubt, bitten people) as zombies slowly try to follow the vehicle. But they're way too slow for Yoongi's speedy driving. He manages to throw them all off track as he drives away from the city.

And when there are fewer buildings and more grassy fields, things almost look... normal. As if you hadn't just seen a zombie apocalypse unfold in the city. Until you notice the blood splattered on the windows and the survival luggage that you and Jungkook had hauled on the bus. That's when you realize this is still very, very real.

But now that you've escaped the city, the roads are ironically smoother without the undead scattered on the ground. As a result, Yoongi begins to drive comfortably, the bus no longer threatening to tip over at every turn. Finally, it seems like the chaos has calmed down.

You take the time to apologize to Jungkook. "Sorry I just left like that," you say.

He shrugs. "It was stupid for me to countdown anyways."

And that was that.

He sits down next to you at the back of the bus as the other men (except Yoongi) crowd around you to ask questions about the risky trip.

"Were there zombies inside the store?" Namjoon says.

"We didn't encounter any," you reply. "But we're not sure."

"Do you think we could go back in there when we need more supplies?" the med school student asks.

"I mean..." you trail off, looking at Jungkook.

Jungkook shrugs. "We'll have to see, I guess."

"Make do with what Yoongi has in his house?" Seokjin says. "Hey, Yoongi, you got a big house??"

Jimin gasps. "You can't just ask people that, Seokjin! Hey, Yoongi, do you have eight bedrooms?"

You feel like facepalming. And if your hands weren't so wet with sweat, you would've done it too.

"Do I look like I'm made of money??" Yoongi scoffs. "I live in a one-bedroom house."

"One bedroom?!?!? One bedroom?!" Taehyung shrieks.

"Would you like to live outside the one-bedroom house?" Yoongi shrieks back.

Taehyung shuts up.

Sure, Yoongi's being extremely generous right now. He could've dumped all of you out the moment the chaos hit. But he had chosen to bring everyone along with him. Still... eight people in a one-bedroom house? You're not so sure about that.

"We'll make it work," the bus driver grumbles.

"As long as there's a kitchen," Seokjin says, "I'm all right."

Ten minutes later, following Yoongi's lead, everyone quickly piles into the one-bedroom house.

It looks modest but poorly decorated. A shaggy rug with mysterious stains, zero decor but a single couch and a small television is set in the living room. The only bedroom in the house isn't very spacious either, with just enough room to fit one full-sized bed and a couple of other sleeping bags on the floor. Yoongi keeps his humble collection of clothes in his bathroom sink. The bathroom is standard and looks barely used. But the worst part of the house is the kitchen, much to Seokjin's despair. There's more dust than counter space.

"I don't cook," comes Yoongi's simple answer when Seokjin gives the man a bewildered look.

And just like that, the house tour is over in a couple of minutes.

"Do you have a car?" you ask cautiously.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Left my bike at the bus parking lot." He shrugs. "But we have the bus."

You bite your lip. Buses use way more gas than cars do—you don't even have to be a mechanic to know. It might've even been better to have a bike.

Everyone is silent for the most part, taking in their new surroundings and unsure what to make of it. Yoongi collapses on the couch. "I have beer somewhere in my fridge. Help yourselves."

Hoseok makes a face—as if he's never had a cheap beer in his life.

You and Jungkook make faces because neither of you is of legal age to drink yet. Yet another reminder that you're stuck with actual adults.

Once those who want a beer get a beer and all the canned foods and water are stashed in the fridge, everyone gathers around awkwardly in the living room. With so much afternoon chaos, the evening seems eerily quiet. It's like all of you are waiting for disaster to strike again.

You, yourself, begin to think about your safety. The thing about Yoongi's house (no matter how small and shabby it is) is that it's out in the open without any other houses nearby. For one, that's a good thing because there's less chance that zombies will make their way out here. But there's also no barrier either.

And suddenly acquiring seven male roommates out of nowhere? Seven men you barely even know? Sure, you've spoken to Jungkook a lot of times, but never outside of the bus or the practice field.

But you guess you have to sacrifice comfort and privacy to survive.

Finally, when the silence stretches on for nearly thirty minutes, Hoseok speaks. "We have to talk about the elephant in the room," he announces.

Everyone raises their eyebrows.

"What elephant??" Jimin says. "Where's the important question? Did I miss something?"

"No," Hoseok sighs. "What are we going to do about the sleep situation?"

"What do you mean?" Yoongi scoffs. "I get the bedroom, everyone else sleeps out here." He gestures at the living room.

"At least four people can fit in that bedroom," Namjoon says. "I suggest you can choose who gets to sleep there."

"You have to take in count that we have a lady present too," Seokjin says.

"Shouldn't she automatically get the bedroom then?" Jungkook says. "And she chooses who sleeps in the bedroom?"

"That's not fair!" Taehyung says. "Why does gender matter in this situation?"

"Yeah, and you're only saying that because you know she'll pick you!" Hoseok scoffs.

"Well, I'm sorry I want to make her feel comfortable in a male dominant household!" Jungkook shouts.

You feel awkward, biting your lip and looking back and forth between Jungkook and the two other men.

"Um, if you'd let me choose, I'd have to go with Yoongi, just because it's his house, Jungkook and Namjoon..." you say.

"Goddamn!" Jimin exclaims. "What did I ever do to you??"

"Nothing!" you protest. "I'm just—"

"My house, my rules!" Yoongi shouts over everyone. "I get to choose! And I pick Y/N, Namjoon and Jungkook. That's final!"

While Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung are grumbling, Seokjin seems rather happy. "I'm closer to the kitchen in the living room," he grins. "And besides, it doesn't matter whether you sleep in the bedroom or in the living room. You get the same sleep." He pauses. "Unless you get the actual bed."

"We can take turns with the bed," you tell the three other men.

"Nah," Yoongi says. "Never liked that stupid thing."

"I also prefer sleeping on the ground. It's good for my back," Namjoon says.

Jungkook shrugs at you. "You can take the bed."

You're left gaping at them. "Are you sure...?"

"Just take the offer before they change their minds, honey," Seokjin laughs.

"O-Okay."

"Now what?" Taehyung says, exasperated. He seems let down that he doesn't get to sleep in the bedroom. Nor does he seem keen on the idea of sleeping in sleeping bags. Hoseok looks equally annoyed.

You suppose you can understand them in a way. You don't exactly have many things to lose. In fact, now, you probably don't have to pay off student debt. But Hoseok and Taehyung, well, they're not used to living in cramped up places. It's not really their fault that they're being so whiny. But at the same time, you wish they can shut the fuck up and stop complaining.

"What do you mean, now what?" Yoongi says. "We're gonna sleep. I think I have an extra blanket or something..."

"Sleep?" Hoseok says. "It's barely 6 o'clock."

"Well, what else do you suggest we do? Go outside and hunt the zombies??" Yoongi says. "Excuse me, I'm gonna go to bed."

"Wait!"

Yoongi turns around and glares daggers at the rich businessman. But Hoseok doesn't budge. "Do you have a phone charger?" He holds up his phone, the latest model of the iPhone—the one that costs more than some laptops.

The bus driver cocks an eyebrow. He holds up his own phone in the air.

Everyone else gasps when they realize Yoongi's phone is a battered, out-dated Nokia. The model that is so old that you swear you had that same phone when you were in sixth grade.

"A Nokia?!" Taehyung shrieks.

Everyone pulls out their own iPhones in rapid succession.

"Oh, god," Namjoon mutters.

"I guess it's goodbye to our phones," Seokjin says. "A pity..."

"We should've grabbed iPhone chargers at Target," you sigh, shoving your phone back in your back pocket. A forgotten necessity...

"Yeah, you should've," Hoseok agrees.

You give him the nasty side-eye when he turns his back to you.

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "it's not the end of the world. Besides, I think I have an iPhone charger somewhere..."

"You used to have an iPhone?? Why the switch?" Jimin says, twiddling his one iPhone X in his hands.

"No, never had an iPhone. I hate Apple products," Yoongi scoffs. "I'm a die-hard Samsung fan, but I had to switch to Nokia to pay the bills. I just had an ex-girlfriend who left her iPhone chargers at my house. I might find more than one if I dig around, I guess."

Everyone whoops with joy.

After a hunt that lasts for an hour, two pathetic, dirty iPhone chargers sit in the middle of the shaggy carpet while everyone else crowds around them.

"I call it first!" Hoseok and Taehyung say at the same time.

No one dares to argue.

"Now can I sleep?" Yoongi sighs.

"You don't want dinner?" Seokjin says.

"You're going to cook?" Yoongi raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I'll make do with the canned foods," Seokjin says.

"We should also probably try to watch the news or something," Jungkook says. "To see if they're calling for any survivors..."

The mood suddenly becomes dim.

Right. The past hour had been so busy that everyone had somehow forgotten about the zombie apocalypse.

Jungkook senses the mood and quickly changes the topic. "Just kidding. Let's play a game."

"A game?" Jimin says. "I love games!"

"Depends on the game," Taehyung says. "I call beer pong."

"I'm nineteen," you say.

"So? I took shots when I was eight," Taehyung argues.

You roll your eyes.

Amongst the commotion, Seokjin manages to sneak his way into the kitchen. No one really cares.

"Okay, then does anyone have game suggestions?" Jungkook says. "Just so we can get to know each other better. We don't know how long this will last, right?"

"I think I'm too old for games," Hoseok grumbles.

"I don't think I've played a game in my whole life," Yoongi says.

"Can I study for my exams?" Namjoon pipes up.

Jungkook sighs. He looks at you for some help but you shrug. If they don't want to play games, then they won't play games. You don't want to force them into it and end up having no fun at all.

"Maybe we should just let them do what they want," you whisper to Jungkook.

He gives you a look of incredulity. "That's it!" he yells. "We're all in a shitty mood, but you know what? I don't give a flying fuck. We're going to play fuck, marry or kill!"

Seokjin groans from the kitchen. He pops his head around the corner while holding a big container full of food in his hands. "Will the game mess with everyone's appetite?"

"What even is that?" Jimin points at the bowl.

Seokjin shrugs. "A bit of beans. A bit of corn. A bit of sauce. I don't even know, but it tastes good." He grabs some spare plates and bowls and sets them down in the living room along with an array of plastic utensils.

"Where did you even get the sauce and utensils?" Yoongi scoffs. "I swear I don't own any of that."

Seokjin grins. "I carry a good sauce and extra utensils everywhere."

And you have to compliment Seokjin's cooking skills because the mystery mixture is actually delicious.

"Um, hello??" Jungkook says while everyone else is scarfing down food. "Fuck, marry or kill??"

Namjoon looks up from his bowl. "That game's hardly fair."

"And why is that?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side.

"Y/N's the only girl," Namjoon says.

"That's true," Jimin pipes up. "We can't really play unless... you know, you suggest we fuck each other. No homo though, bros."

You scrunch your nose. "Yeah, Jungkook, that's a bit—"

"You got a better idea?" Jungkook says. "C'mon."

Yoongi grumbles. "I thought this game was supposed to make us get to know each other better."

"It will!" Jungkook says.

"Yeah, it'll let everyone know our sexual preferences," Taehyung sniggers.

Everyone groans.

"I agree with baseball boy," Taehyung says. "I used to play this game all the time. I'm hella good."

Hoseok frowns. "How the fuck can you be good at this game??"

Taehyung completely ignores the businessman and whirls around at you. You nearly spit out your food in surprise. "Y/N! Yes, you. Fuck, marry or kill? Jungkook, Namjoon and me?"

Everyone groans again.

"He's just saying that so Y/N can pick him to fuck," Jimin giggles.

"You're way too obvious," Seokjin snorts.

You sigh, shaking your head. "Well, I guess I'm killing Taehyung off just for asking me the first question." At that, Seokjin leans across from you and gives you a triumphant high-five. "As for fuck..." you trail off, looking between Namjoon and Jungkook. "I'll fuck Jungkook and marry Namjoon."

Jungkook gasps. "You've known me for longer and you'd rather fuck me???"

"Yeah, what does that have to say about your personality?" you tease.

All the men—except Jungkook—erupt in laughter. In just one sentence, you become the most popular person in the room, everyone complimenting you for putting Jungkook in his place.

"Y/N, you've officially become my new favorite person," Seokjin declares.

"Really?" you laugh. "Okay, then Seokjin. Fuck, marry or kill: Hoseok, Taehyung, Jimin."

"Ouch," Yoongi mutters.

"Ouch??" Jimin huffs.

"Ouch," Seokjin repeats. "I can't choose whether I want to kill Hoseok or Taehyung."

"Hey!" Taehyung yells. "Don't kill me again! Y/N already did that!"

"All the more reason for me to kill Taehyung," Seokjin sings. "I'm fucking Hoseok so I can get a limo ride or something from him the morning after. And Jimin's cute. I can work with that. I'd marry him."

"Yes!" Jimin yells, pumping his fist up in the air. "I'm husband material!"

Taehyung groans. "I've been killed twice," he mopes.

"Okay, then you try," Jimin says. "Yoongi, Seokjin, Y/N."

"I'm killing Y/N for revenge!" Taehyung declares but when he looks between Yoongi and Seokjin, he changes his mind. "No... wait, uh... I'm killing Seokjin for revenge! I'd fuck Y/N and marry Yoongi but it would be a sexless marriage."

"You only chose to fuck Y/N because she's a girl," Hoseok snorts.

"What?? She's hot."

"I'm right here!"

The game goes around in circles for hours and by the end, everyone is engaged in it. You win for getting the most marries. You also tie with Jungkook for getting the most fucks. Hoseok and Taehyung tie for getting the most kills. And Namjoon gets an honorable mention for being neutral in everyone's minds.

By the end, it becomes very clear that you and Jungkook are the most likable people, followed up by Yoongi and Seokjin (for knowing how to cook). It feels good to be liked by complete strangers. Normally, you wouldn't give a shit whether strangers like you or not. But... you might be stuck with these seven men for a very long time.

They're not so bad once there is nothing threatening their lives.

You don't mind being here that much anymore. With just a little bit of time, this place could feel like home. And these strangers can be your friends.

But right now, your first priority is to survive.

Okay, so, fast forward four months, and now your priority isn't exactly to survive. Pretty strange, to be honest. In over 120 days, things have taken quite a worse turn—the city is becoming more dilapidated and there are more zombies roaming about, but truth be told, you and your seven friends are doing just fine. In fact, you are doing great. More than great.

Now, your priority is to live comfortably. Ironically in an environment that prioritizes survival.

It's genuinely because of the advanced system Hoseok bestowed upon the household one faithful day. (He wasn't the successful CEO of a rising company for nothing.)

The businessman gave everyone a designated job to work depending on their skills. You think he especially thought of this system when Taehyung and Namjoon somehow managed to set the kitchen on fire back when kitchen duty was rotational. Seokjin had grieved for days because the fire left ugly burn marks on Yoongi's counters. And now the intern chef's the only one allowed in the kitchen. Seokjin faithfully cooks three meals every day—enough for everyone to have seconds. Enough to even have leftovers.

In turn, Namjoon takes care of all the medical stuff. He claims that he can cure anything except a zombie bite. When Taehyung challenges him that he can't cure all cancer, Namjoon gets unreasonably pouty and the whole next day, he decides to study. But he comes up with nothing, to Taehyung's delight. But to Taehyung's distress, Hoseok assigns him as Namjoon's medical assistant (only because Taehyung had ditched nursing at one point to pursue law). Now Taehyung's right back where he started.

But the two of them manage to get along. Sometimes. And they are responsible with the medical supplies. Sometimes. And they remind everyone to take their vitamin supplements. Sometimes. Namjoon's also crazy good at taking splinters out. That's an always.

Jimin's assigned to keep a lookout on the news through the rather spotty radio. So far, there's been nothing. But the cop in training is persistent and hopeful. Well, everyone is. You all hope that someone announces the apocalypse is over and there's a safety station not too far away from here. But the announcement never comes. No problem. You're in a situation where you're not that desperate—you can wait it out.

Hoseok gets to order everyone around and makes sure all the household duties are fulfilled. Strangely, after you get to know him for a while, he's actually a pretty chill guy. Just a little uptight when it comes to serious business. He's a huge scaredy-cat with a big heart and only becomes irrational when he's in fear.

Arguably, you and Jungkook are in charge of the most dangerous job. You are what everyone else calls the 'suppliers.' At least once every two weeks, the two of you hop on the bus with Yoongi (who drives) and go to Target to pick up groceries or anything else the others needed. The job is dangerous all right, but you and Jungkook haven't come across a major zombie attack yet, so the bi-weekly outings are a bit of a joke. (The two of you fool around in Target and spend a bit too much extra time in there than necessary.) But what can you say? It serves as a little escape from the cramped house!

Yoongi doesn't really have a job except to drive you and Jungkook anywhere you need to go. Hoseok decided to let him slack off—only because he sacrificed his house for the crew.

In four months, you're able to get to know the men better. In normal circumstances, you doubt that you'd ever come near a rich businessman. But here you are, cracking jokes with Hoseok every night. You wouldn't even have gotten to know a cop in training either. Or a law student. Or a med student. Or an intern chef who's actually talented. Maybe you knew Jungkook from before the apocalypse. But you never really connected with him on another level. Now, you know a lot about the seven men you're forced to live with.

A bit more than you would like, too.

You know that Hoseok likes his soup cold, which convinces you that he's a total psychopath, but whatever. Seokjin secretly likes to bake more than he likes to cook. Namjoon still studies for his medical exams (that are very obviously never going to take place) because he can't stand having nothing to do. Jimin's actually really insecure about his physique (despite his sassy and confident nature) and constantly needs someone to tell him that yes, Jimin, your ass looks fan-fucking-tastic in those tight jeans. Taehyung—you think—watches porn when everyone's asleep. So he might kinda be a porn-addict but you're not really sure. You don't wanna find out. And Jungkook... You know that he likes to read romance novels. Which you found out when he dragged you down the literary romance aisle in Target and suggested you save space in your bags so he could take some back to home base.

But no one else in the house likes to read, so Jungkook doesn't get his books in the end.

It's hard to believe that you're in the midst of a zombie apocalypse—especially with the comfortable way you're living—but still, you and Jungkook only try to take home what's necessary. To save time and space, of course.

A couple of months into living together, all of you had even celebrated Namjoon's 25th birthday. He didn't get a cake, but Seokjin managed to make cookies in five minutes in Yoongi's old microwave. The rest of the day was spent relaxing in the tight living room, playing what Jungkook liked to call 'family games.' Games that you should probably not play with your actual family (because of the level of inappropriateness), but games that bring friends together to the point that they feel like family.

So, in conclusion, the seven men aren't as horrible as you thought in the beginning. Sure, they have their strange and eccentric quirks, but it's refreshing to see so many different personalities in one house. You can't imagine how shitty life would've been if you were stuck with seven men with the same character as a doorknob. It's nice to live with people with such... unique personalities.

And at this point, they're like your friends—if not—best friends.

And best friends are not afraid to call each other out.

"WAKE UP YOU FUCKING SLOTH!" Taehyung screams.

You can hear Yoongi let out a dead groan from the bedroom. But it doesn't look like he's going to be barging out anytime soon.

"WAKE UP!!!!" Jimin shrieks.

Everyone covers their ears. Jimin's voice is definitely loud and shrill enough to burst someone's eardrums. But none of you want to find out, of course.

"I didn't haul my ass out of bed early in the morning to break my back cooking for everyone for you to not fucking wake up!" Seokjin yells. "Wake the fuck up!!"

From inside the bedroom, Yoongi groans. And then: "SHUT UP OR I'M KICKING EVERYONE OUT!"

You snort. Everyone else rolls their eyes, picks up their utensils and begins to scarf down the scrambled eggs.

Yoongi tends to get very cranky when he's woken by the sound of yelling. When the man is cranky, he makes empty threats that he never really means. Of course he wouldn't kick everyone out of the house. Though he doesn't like to admit it, Yoongi loves the company of the others.

The bus driver stumbles into the kitchen with his hair up in the air and his eyes barely open. "I hate you all."

"Really?" Seokjin smiles, handing the cranky man a plate of still-warm breakfast. "Love your hair."

"Shut up." Yoongi ducks his head down and begins to eat with vigor.

"Hey, chef?" Taehyung sighs, pushing his half-eaten plate of eggs away from himself.

"What is it, lawyer boy?" Seokjin says, crossing his arms. "Do you want escargot to go along with that? Or caviar?"

Taehyung is the designated picky eater of the bunch. But no one blames him. If you grew up eating filets and caviar, you'd probably be picky too.

"The eggs aren't salty enough," Taehyung says. "Do we have salt?"

"Nope, we're out," Seokjin says.

"Ugh," Taehyung groans. "I can't eat this. It tastes too bland."

Seokjin frowns. "Just appreciate what I made for you, you ungrateful swine."

Of course, it isn't a normal breakfast in the group if there isn't an argument. In the beginning, it had been annoying, but now everyone is so used to it, they let it fly.

"Y/N and JK? Can we get some salt today?" Seokjin sighs as he turns to you and Jungkook. "Someone's being a picky bitch again."

"Hey!" Taehyung says.

Hoseok just talks over him. "Anyways," he says, "Jimin, any new reports?"

"Nothing," Jimin sighs. "Radio's basically dead. Honestly, we might be the only ones alive in the whole state at this point."

"That... is not exactly statistically possible," Namjoon points out. "If you really think about it, the probability that—"

"Shut up, please," the cop in training says, exasperated. "Let us go one day without your lectures. God."

You and Jungkook give each other a 'here they go again' look.

"Can we have at least one day where we don't bicker like big babies?" Yoongi scoffs, throwing down his fork. He still looks half dead, his voice gravelly and deep.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him. "No, bitch," he answers. "The bickering is what makes us such a great motherfucking team."

"Actually—" Namjoon starts.

"Everybody just shut the fuck up and eat!" Seokjin yells.

Just like always.

This is a very typical breakfast in the household. Where everyone yells at Yoongi to wake up. And then the arguing commences up to the point Seokjin can't take it anymore and screams at everyone to shut their traps. That's when everyone obeys him (because Seokjin can be quite scary when angry) and eats silently.

After breakfast, Hoseok calls a meeting in the bedroom. You and Jungkook sit on the bed as everyone else sits around the floor; Hoseok stays standing.

"Look, guys," he says, "it's been four fucking months. We're lost."

You cock your head. Lost was the last thought in your head right now.

"At least we're alive," Jungkook snorts. "At least none of us have been bitten. At least none of the zombies have turned up around this area yet. At least—"

"Okay, okay, we get it, Jungkook," Hoseok sighs. "It's just that we're in a tricky situation right now. It's been four months..."

"Yes, we know," you say. "But haven't things been going smoothly? I mean, look, we have enough food, we're safe here and we're happy. What more can we ask for?"

Seokjin hums thoughtfully. "Well, Hoseok might be right, Y/N," he says. "It's only been four months, right? So the utilities are still working. There's still gas in the gas stations, the fridges are working... You know?"

Namjoon nods. "Exactly. But when will that run out?"

"When will the food run out? When will we have to live off of rationed canned foods because the fridges in Target broke? What if our fridge breaks?" Seokjin says. "We're in a tough spot."

"But we're not lost... yet," Jimin says, "right??"

"But we don't know when the doomsday will come," Taehyung sighs. "That makes this whole situation shittier."

It's not very often that the group sits down to have a serious conversation—it's not often at all that everyone can be serious in one setting. And it's a bit unsettling.

Especially when you had thought you were doing fine. But what would you know? You're only nineteen; you've yet to experience hardships that the others have gone through. So you know what the others are worrying about is valid.

"So what do we need to prepare for?" Jungkook asks.

"That's what I wanted to talk about today," Hoseok says. "How are we going to prepare for a potential zombie attack if we had minimal contact with zombies so far?"

"That's true..." you murmur. "Kook and I are the only ones who've seen zombies without a barrier separating them and us... But even then, they were several yards away."

"We don't know their weaknesses at all," Namjoon says. "We just know that once you've been bitten, you'll die and then become undead after some time. But we don't even have a specific number on that either."

"I mean, do you really want to find out?" Taehyung snorts. "Why would any zombie come around here, anyway?"

"But this is all a 'just in case' situation," Hoseok says. "We just want to prepare for the worst possible scenario."

There the businessman goes again, thinking ten steps ahead of everyone.

"I feel like we'll have the best solutions when we actually face the problem," Jungkook says. "We definitely don't feel threatened right now. We're not gonna get an effective solution." He shrugs. "I say we go with the flow."

"And wait until it's too late and one of us gets bitten?" Namjoon says.

"Have you ever heard of procrastinating?" Jungkook says.

Namjoon and Hoseok gasp like they've seen the devil.

"If we wait until we're threatened, we'll do ten day's worth of work in ten minutes," Jungkook says.

"And if we try to force a solution now, we'll probably do ten minute's worth of work in ten days. Or worse," you add. "Trust me, as a procrastinator, I would know."

"They kind of have a point," Seokjin says. "I guess if we run out of food, we can always... grow it? I don't know, we can be self-sufficient. There's always a solution, no matter how late in the game we find it."

"Are you saying we should wait until we're actually in trouble before taking action...?" Jimin says slowly. "Because that sounds dangerous... I mean, I don't uh, work well under pressure."

"I think we should invest in a gun," Taehyung says. "'Cause in the movies, they totally gun the little shits down."

"None of us knows how to shoot a gun," Yoongi says. "And I don't trust any of you with one."

"Hey! I'm a cop—"

"Cop in training, I know, I know," Yoongi says. "But I don't care. You get scared easily. You're gonna accidentally shoot one of us while you're at it."

Jimin can't argue with that.

"We can't live like this forever," Hoseok says, shaking his head disdainfully.

"Who knows? Maybe this will lead to the extinction of the human race," Namjoon says. "We might have to live like this forever."

"See? If we go on forever, then we won't have to come up with solutions right away. We'll make them up as we go," you say.

"Procrastinating is a horrible—"

But before Hoseok can go on a lecture-rant for two hours straight, Yoongi stands up.

"Well, I'm done with this conversation," he says. The man gestures at you and Jungkook. "C'mon, you two. Let's get to Target."

You silently thank Yoongi for helping you escape Hoseok's long life lectures. Swiftly, you and Jungkook grab your weapons—your bats—before cautiously stepping out of the house and climbing into the bus.

The bus ride to Target is silent as usual. Yoongi likes to drive in complete silence, observing the city's hollowed-out, empty look. Sometimes, zombies lurk about in the shadows, but they're always too slow to catch up to the bus. And they rarely swarm around Target for reasons that are so lucky that you don't even question it.

Once Yoongi's bus pulls up to the Target parking lot, you and Jungkook cautiously tug back the curtains draped around the windows to check if the coast is clear. Usually, it is. Yoongi always murmurs some sort of subtle words of encouragement before the two of you leave. But you and Jungkook never need it.

Swinging your bats over your shoulders and walking side by side in Target, you feel like you're the Harley Quinn to Jungkook's Joker. Not that the two of you are romantically close. Ew.

It's just that you spend a lot of time with him. Going on supply missions, sleeping in the same bedroom, listening to music together during otherwise silent bus rides... Jungkook's a great shoulder to cry on when an existential crisis hits you at 4 a.m. in the morning. He's always able to wake up and calm you down before the others are awoken from the sounds of you sniffling under the covers.

Granted, the two of you still tease the living hell out of each other, you think you make a great team with Jeon Jungkook.

Sometimes, zombies will creep into Target and roam about with their limping legs and horrible posture. You and Jungkook aren't very scared of them because at most there are only two or three at a time and that's a number you and Jungkook can easily beat with your bats. Plus, the two of you have trained short-distance running for years. You're fast. If you ever get in a position where you have to run for your life, you think you'll survive.

Besides, the zombies are stupid. There are too many ways to outsmart them. I.e. throw a noisy kiddy toy in the opposite direction and have them hobble towards it while you can run away. Seriously, how dumb can you be to let a zombie best you???

Despite being overly confident about your survival skills, you and Jungkook still take safety precautions. (It's always better to stay safe than be sorry.) The rule of thumb is that you're only allowed to carry one shopping bag each, which leaves the other hand empty to handle the bat.

Today's Target trip is just like any other. You get some salt for Seokjin and manage to salvage the gummy bear vitamin supplements that everyone raves over.

You're just about to call it a day and suggest you go back to the bus when Jungkook tugs at your shirt and points at the sports section. Your eyes fall on the baseball bats and softballs in the corner. Nostalgia hits you hard.

"Oh..." you breathe.

"Yeah..." Jungkook sighs. "When's the last time you even had a game?"

"It feels like it's been years," you sigh. "But probably four months and a few weeks."

"We should really start working out again," Jungkook says. "I heard it's bad for athletes to suddenly stop."

You snort. "Working out's the last thing that should be on our minds in the midst of a zombie apocalypse though."

"True." Jungkook grips his baseball bat in his hand and stares forlornly at it. "I really can't imagine trying to hit something that's not a ball with this bat."

He makes a sad point. "Me too," you agree with him. "I'd never want gross zombie guts on it."

"You know, I wish I could swing my bat and hit a ball right now," Jungkook sighs. "That's literally my only wish at this point."

"It's a risky wish..."

"I know..."

The conversation is sad—too sad for you to handle. Too sad to be talking about with fun-loving Jeon Jungkook.

"Whatever, right?" you say, trying to lighten the mood. "When all of this ends..." Even you can't finish your sentence. You find yourself wondering, but when will it end??

Jungkook pats your back. "When all of this ends," he continues for you, "we should come to each other's games."

You smile at him. "Promise?"

"Promise."

It's silly to be so caught up in playing a goddamn sport in the midst of an apocalypse. But softball had been your life, and it had been stripped away from you. It's worse to have to carry around your bat all the time—not to hit a ball, but for protection. Protection against monsters.

"We should go," Jungkook whispers, nudging you. He points his head in the direction of some zombies who had caught sight of the two of you in the sports aisle. Neither of you panic, but Jungkook grabs your hand anyway. "Wanna make a run for it?" He grins as if nothing is wrong at all. "It'll be like a mini-workout."

You smile back. Four months ago, you would've been terrified if a zombie was within even a twenty feet radius around you. But you've grown now. You're used to a couple of zombies. And Jungkook's never terrified, so you have no reason to be terrified either.

"Let's go!" you say, returning Jungkook's smile.

The two of you begin to dash away, hearing the inhumane moans of the zombies echo in your ears as you run not from fear but to exercise. Maybe you are living in more comfort than you've bargained for.

Survival just isn't a priority anymore.

"What the fuck happened to your arm?" Taehyung shouts the moment you and Jungkook walk into the cramped house again with Yoongi trailing behind the two of you.

"Who, me?" Jungkook says, turning his head to inspect his arms.

"No, Y/N," Taehyung sighs, rolling his eyes. "You have blood running down your arm, dude. Does it not hurt?"

Now that Taehyung mentions it, your right arm begins to throb with sudden pain. When you turn, you see a small gash coated with blood; the droplets are rolling down your arm in a dramatic fashion, but the pain is tolerable.

"DID YOU GET BITTEN?!" Jimin screams.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "If she was bitten, she would've dropped dead." He picks up the plastic bags and carries them over to the kitchen as everyone trails behind him. "As you can see," he gestures toward you, "Y/N is fucking fine."

"I must've cut my arm on some cardboard or something. I don't know," you say. "We were running away from some of those creeps, so..."

"Are you okay, at least?" Jungkook says. "It looks like it hurts."

You snort. "I mean, it's only a cut. Hey, Tae, a little help over here?"

"Only a cut? Dude, nothing's ever only a cut in a fucking apocalypse," Taehyung says. "I'll take a look." He disappears into the bathroom to wash his hands and comes out holding the first aid kit.

While Taehyung treats your little wound, Seokjin begins to serve lunch—grilled cheese that's crunchy and flavorful and definitely not bland. Taehyung gives his compliments to the chef, which almost makes Seokjin break down in blissful tears.

But then the bickering commences as usual.

"I'm not trying to point fingers here," Namjoon starts, but he very obviously stares Taehyung down. "But I haven't touched my phone since the apocalypse began. Yet it seems like Taehyung can't get enough of his phone the whole day."

Taehyung takes a ginormous bite of his grilled cheese sandwich and shrugs. "It's important stuff," he grumbles with his mouth full.

"How, though? We've already established that none of our relatives are answering our texts or calls ages ago," Hoseok says.

"What could possibly be so important on your phone, I wonder," Seokjin says. He raises his eyebrows, but everyone already knows that he's suspecting.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. "It's good leisure time."

You make a face. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I can confirm it," Jungkook says. "He watches porn."

Taehyung scoffs. "You don't??"

"Well, jacking off is the least of our worries," Jimin adds to the conversation. "Though I'm sure it feels good."

Everybody groans. You especially.

"I can do whatever I want with my fucking dick," Taehyung announces.

"Please," you say, "can I eat in peace without having to think about dicks?"

"Thank you!" Taehyung says. "Everyone please shut up and eat Jin's delicious grilled cheese."

Seokjin smiles proudly. It seems as though Taehyung's learning a thing or two from Seokjin.

"I really go through the mill every day to cook for you guys and Taehyung's the only one who's complimenting me?" the talented chef sighs, shaking his head. "Don't be surprised if I accidentally spill dirt in your dish the next meal. Seriously, guys. I think I deserve some standing ovation or something—"

But before Seokjin can go on one of his famous self-esteem raising rants, you excuse yourself and make a mad dash to the only bathroom in the whole house. Even the talkative chef stops his ranting when you disappear behind the locked door so quickly.

Jimin's the first to speak. He giggles, "I think she's getting diarrhea from your delicious meal, chef."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "You're an idiot, Jimin. She's definitely not taking a shit."

"I am not an idiot!"

"What are you trying to say?" Yoongi says, feigning disinterest, but he's obviously curious about your sudden escape to the toilet.

"It's her time of month," Jungkook whispers to the men. Their eyes turn large at the relayed news. "You guys better not get on her bad side in the next few days. Or let her be in a bad mood. Run it with me, guys," he says quietly. "She gets cramps in the first three days. She gets bad cravings on the fourth. After that, we should be safe. Anyways, just be especially nice to her. She wasn't exactly having the best day today."

"How the fuck do you know her cycle?" Hoseok narrows his eyes.

"I accidentally might've... um, grazed my hand against her ass one time um, and... I heard a crunch... Turns out it was her pad," Jungkook sighs. "It was a total accident. But I almost lost my head. Ever since then, I've been keeping track in fear for my life."

"Must kinda suck being a woman in these times," Yoongi says.

"Yeah, respect for Y/N for sure," Taehyung says.

"She's a strong woman," Namjoon nods. "I agree. Imagine trying to live with seven males you barely know in a world where there are so many dangerous predators—cough, men."

"I know, I know," Jungkook sighs. "I feel bad because she totally switched from pads to tampons because of me..."

"Tampons are better for active girls, anyway," Namjoon says. "I think."

"I never really notice when Y/N's on her period though," Seokjin says. "I mean, she doesn't have mood swings at all!"

"That's 'cause she has mood swings all the time," Jungkook snickers, bending the truth to earn some laughs from the boys. But it doesn't become very funny when:

"I can fucking FEEL you guys talking about me!" you shriek from the bathroom, and though the door is closed, everyone else can hear you loud and clear.

It becomes completely silent; the men suddenly become very invested in eating.

A few seconds later, you walk out of the bathroom looking a little peeved already. You sigh as you pick up your leftover grilled cheese. "Hey, Jin, can I get something warm to drink?"

"Warm water?" Seokjin says. "Of course, honey."

You raise your eyebrows at Seokjin's sudden sweetness, but you don't question it.

Meanwhile, Jungkook looks at the other men and gives them the 'I told ya so' look. Cramps 101, warm water helps ease the pain and so do hot packs, which unfortunately aren't available at the moment. Jungkook's done some extra research himself. Maybe on your birthday or something, he can surprise you with one of those cute animal-shaped hot packs or an extra supply of painkillers. (You never waste a precious Advil on period cramps, no matter how bad they get.)

The rest of the day, the men surprisingly keep quiet. And it's doing wonders for that headache that's creeping in. Normally, you try not to make a big show that you're on your period, so everyone tends to treat you the same. But today... well, it's almost as if they know they're walking on thin ice. You can't say you don't like this special treatment. Especially when dinner is actually civil for once, with no one calling others out or displaying horrible table manners.

It's even hilarious how after dinner, Jungkook takes you aside and very, very cautiously asks, "Hey... I don't know if you're down or not for family time today... but—"

You cut him off, laughing, "I'm always down!!"

On your cue, the group gathers around in the living room and Yoongi even offers you the single couch that he always claims is his. You gratefully take his offer and hug your pillow in front of you to keep your stomach warm. Jungkook sits next to you (as usual) but perches upon the couch arm.

"Anybody have a nice, tame game for tonight?" he says.

"Tame??" you say, raising your eyebrows. "Why tame?"

"Er..."

Luckily, Taehyung comes to the rescue. "Never have I ever!" he shrieks. "But the nasty version, how about that?"

"Tae—" Seokjin starts, but you interject.

"Nasty never have I ever!" you say, gripping your pillow tightly against your stomach. "Sounds like a plan! The ten fingers version please." Jungkook notices you biting your lip in discomfort and offers you his hand to take. Though you raise your eyebrows at him, you take his offer. No one else notices.

"Okay, I'll start," Namjoon says, crisscrossing his legs and looking smugly at everyone—almost as if he knew he had a good question. "Never have I ever had a friends with benefits."

"Oh, come on!" nearly half of the group screams.

"You've really never had a friend with benefits??" Jungkook gawks at Namjoon. "Seriously dude. Harsh first question."

"Don't have time for friends with benefits," Namjoon answers, grinning.

You, Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon laugh triumphantly as the others lose their marbles over already having nine fingers left.

"I don't have friends to benefit from," Yoongi snorts, looking proudly at his ten still-standing fingers.

"I'd get attached to the 'friend,' which wouldn't be good for my mental health," you giggle. "So no. Never had or never will have friends with benefits."

Seokjin just shrugs, grinning rather innocently.

"Fine. I'll go next," Hoseok grumbles. "Counterclockwise, right? Hm..." he trails off, scrunching his eyebrows. "Ooh! Okay, never have I ever sexted the wrong person. Almost did, once."

"Dammit, Hoseok!" Jimin yells.

"You sexted the wrong person?!" Jungkook doubles over in laughter. "How???"

"My ex's contact was dangerously close to my mother's," Jimin grumbles. "I had to do a lot of explaining that day."

"Oh my god," you deadpan. "I'm so sorry, but that's just fucking hilarious."

Jimin huffs, puffing out his cheeks and angrily putting another finger down to have a total of eight fingers left. "I'm losing now."

"Relax, you haven't gotten to zero just yet," Taehyung teases.

"My turn!" Seokjin announces, "and I got a good one. I'm gonna get everyone out." He puffs out his chest and smiles a devilishly handsome smile.

"I doubt it," Yoongi says, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's hard to get everybody but yourself out," Namjoon says. "Especially with more people. You're looking at getting seven people out with one statement. Not impossible but very unlikely."

"Okay. Bet," Seokjin laughs. There is a dramatic pause (wherein it's so silent you could probably hear a pin drop) before he speaks: "Never have I ever had sex."

The whole group goes berserk.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE A VIRGIN?!" Hoseok yells.

"I HATE YOU!" Jimin screams, now at seven fingers.

"HE LITERALLY STILL HAS TEN FINGERS LEFT!"

"HE WASN'T FUCKING KIDDING!"

Seokjin just relaxes and enjoys the chaos unfolding before him.

But the next round, Yoongi says something on the lines of "Never have I not had sex before." So Seokjin loses a point because of that—but not until at least seven minutes of arguing back and forth.

Taehyung, though, comes up with an interesting question that's very obviously targeted at you.

"OOH!" he giggles, eyes turning wide. The law student grins at you specifically. "Never have I ever held hands with the opposite gender during a never have I ever game!"

"What?!" you and Jungkook shriek in unison, but keeping your hands intertwined. Instead, Jungkook squeezes your hand in response.

"That was so obviously aimed towards us!" you complain.

"Oh, then go on, aim something at me, then," Taehyung giggles. "We're tied in points anyway."

"Okay, fine," you sigh. "Never have I ever had a dick."

"You just did not—"

"That's not fair!"

"I can't fucking help what I was born with."

You shrug. "Let the aiming begin. Sorry boys, I wanna win this game."

Even Jungkook looks offended that you had attacked him.

"If you're playing dirty, I can play dirtier," he grins. "Never have I ever had a vagina."

"You stole mine!" you complain. Jungkook just laughs and pats your hand.

"Never have I ever slept with a guy," Jimin says.

"Never have I ever played softball," Namjoon says.

"Never have I ever been penetrated," Hoseok smiles at you angelically. You want to slap them.

"Never have I ever inserted a tampon," Seokjin sings.

"Never have I ever worn a bra," Yoongi says with a shrug.

"Never have I ever held Jungkook's hand," Taehyung laughs.

"That's double-dipping on the last one!" you argue.

"Too bad!"

Now it's your turn. And you only have one finger left. Well, this took the disastrous route.

"Never have I ever kissed a girl," you sigh defeatedly.

Though everyone else puts down a finger, you're still losing big time. One more blow would mean you've lost.

Jungkook smiles, turning to you. "Ready for the finale?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. Bring it on."

"Never have I ever had a period."

"I hate you guys," you grumble, sinking into the couch and letting go of Jungkook's arm. "You really ganged up on me."

Though you've lost the game, you're not that mad—not as mad as you thought you'd be. When you see your friends laughing their asses off and high-fiving each other to celebrate your defeat, it ironically makes you feel better. Good to see them get along.

Four months ago, they would've done anything to rip each other apart in shreds. Now, it looks like they've gotten close to the point they'll gang up to spite you.

While clutching your stomach to numb yourself from the pain, you can't help but smile. They've come a very long way. Now they don't really seem like the annoying man babies you knew. Granted, they're still man-babies, but less annoying and slightly more caring and thoughtful. But you'll take any kind of man-baby as long as he respects you and his friends.

Being on your damned period makes you want to sleep in the whole day. Except you're in a zombie apocalypse and sometimes, you have to sacrifice your wishes for the good of the group. Which means, getting up when Seokjin calls for breakfast.

But it's just so hard to get up... You end up ignoring Seokjin and everyone else yelling at you to come eat. Seokjin has to knock on the bedroom door, telling you that you can't skip breakfast or else it'll be bad for your uterus. You're not really sure that's how it works, but since he asked very nicely, you comply.

Groggily, you slide out of bed and make your way to the restroom. You feel heavy, bloated and just plain gross. You quickly change your tampon, scrubbing your hands with soap and water before finally walking out.

Whoever's the last one to wake up usually gets to walk the walk of shame with everyone else yelling at them. But it's silent today.

The moment you join the group and Seokjin hands you your breakfast, Namjoon's considerate enough to ask you if you had a good night's sleep.

"No," you answer, gesturing towards your whole face. "I'm bloated. I have dark circles under my eyes. And I feel ugly."

"N-No, you're beautiful!" Jungkook says quickly.

You give him a look. "Don't lie."

"Do you want me to tell you that you are ugly and bloated?" Jungkook asks in confusion. "I mean, I'll do it if you want, you know."

Oh god. His ignorance makes you want to strangle him.

When Jungkook notices that he's stepped into a dangerous zone, he backs away. "I-I mean, no, I wasn't lying! You're always beautiful, Y/N. I swear!"

You huff but don't respond.

It's obvious that you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. You don't even know why you're so cranky today, but you guess you have to blame it on the fact that you're bleeding out quite uncomfortably. Apparently, your uterus is extra mad this time around that you didn't try for a kid again. And it's getting its revenge by releasing its wrath on your body, which aches about everywhere.

"It must be inconvenient to change your uh, menstrual... products every day," Yoongi says, supposedly trying to cheer you up. "I would be too lazy to do that."

"Yeah. It fucking sucks," you sigh. "Part of me wishes I just had an IUD so my period would stop altogether for a while... or at least lighten it. But then we wouldn't have a doctor to get it out of me after a few years."

Namjoon clears his throat, "Excuse me, I'm a—"

"No, you're not," you cut him off. "You're a med school student. Huge fucking difference."

Namjoon looks a bit hurt, but he dares not to say anything else.

"Whatever," you say bitterly. "Since we're on the topic, I need to get more tampons."

"At least use pads, Y/N... Much safer..." Namjoon tries.

"Yeah, pads are rad," Taehyung snorts.

"Period," Seokjin adds on.

"Oh god. Did you just make a period joke?" Hoseok groans, shaking his head.

"Why, yes," Seokjin grins. "Why yes, I did. I'm just going with the flow."

"Please shut the fuck up," Jimin says for you.

"I second that," you say. "And I'm not switching. Pads annoy the shit out of me. I don't wanna be more annoyed than I already am."

Nobody bothers to argue with you.

The day flows on as usual—with barely anything to do inside the house. The summer heat washes over everyone; it's nearly impossible to go outside because of it. Oh, and also, zombies. No one dares to step foot outside unless you, Jungkook or Yoongi have to get on the bus to get supplies.

But it's days like this where there's not particularly anything to do that makes this whole thing so much harder. The zombie movies make it look so easy, Taehyung points out.

And he's right. There's always so much action going on in apocalypse movies. Guns, knives, cults, blood and gore... But in reality, an apocalypse is much more... boring. It's a waiting game, really.

The eight of you just lie around, counting the fibers of the rug or daydreaming about how the world used to be. Jungkook manages to convince you to work out with him, so the two of you work on your core muscles, which ache by the time you finish because of the lack of use. You finish the work out much earlier than expected. It pisses you off that your stamina has dwindled down to nonexistent in just a few months. If it weren't for the stupid apocalypse, you'd still be one of the star players on your team. Now you're not even sure everyone on your team is still alive.

You call it quits and take a refreshing shower.

With your hair still wet and your clothes clinging onto your body, you lie on the bed right next to Jungkook whose eyes flutter open. "Back from your shower?"

"Mhm..." Instinctively covering your stomach with your hands, you turn your head to look at Jungkook. "I barely got through that workout."

Your friend laughs, clearing his bangs from his eyes at the same time. "You'll get better once we start working out more regularly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know, though..." you sigh. "What's the point anymore?"

"The point?" Jungkook asks. He shifts his body to look at you, but you don't meet his eyes. "The point is to... survive... Right?"

"...I guess." You wince when your stomach cramps get worse. For some reason, the shower had left you with depressing thoughts and being skeptical of survival. "I dunno. What's the point of living now? We're just stuck in this house. It's cramped. We can't go outside unless we really need to... And I feel like absolute shit about myself. There's just no... purpose."

"Yeah, it sucks," Jungkook agrees. "But hey, you made a purpose by doing something you wanted to do yesterday. Remember? You finally worked out! And even during your period. You should be proud of yourself."

His enthusiasm and kind words make you feel a bit better. "I guess I did accomplish something pretty worthy today."

"See?" Jungkook grins. He sits up on the bed and smiles at you. "You did good."

You laugh, sitting up with him. "You mean, I did well."

"Literally no one cares about grammar."

"Oh, really?" you giggle, nudging Jungkook so hard that he almost falls off the bed. He grabs onto the sheets in a frenzy, and the two of you begin to laugh uncontrollably.

When the laughter dies down, you can't help but keep smiling at Jungkook. He must be having a hard time himself. (Either that or he's just a rock with no feelings.) But it's nice that he actively tries to make you feel better. Even if he jokes about inappropriate things all the time. Thank god there's someone your age living in the household. You doubt that anyone else would understand your PMS-ing and arbitrary existential crises as well as Jungkook.

"I'm sorry I've been such a grouch," you tell Jungkook. "If you guys were meaner to me right now, I'd stop whining. Coddling does bad things to my attitude."

"Nah, if I was bleeding out of my nonexistent vagina, I'd be pissed too," Jungkook says. "C'mon, let's go grab some lunch. I smell Seokjin's cooking."

During the meal, Hoseok sets down his silverware and sighs very loudly. "Everyone," he announces authoritatively. "This place is a pigsty."

Yoongi looks up from his dish. "Excuse me, this is my house. You can't say that."

Hoseok just rolls his eyes. "I'm just saying if I had my secretary, this place would be spotless."

"Well, your secretary isn't here though," Jungkook snickers.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Hoseok glares. "We're still going to do some... summer cleaning."

Oh no. Everyone groans.

Once the dishes are washed and put away, Hoseok starts giving out the cleaning assignments. Seokjin is excited to get the kitchen. You get the bathroom (because your feminine hygiene products are there). Hoseok, Taehyung and Jimin get the living room area, while Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook get to clean the bedroom.

It's rather organized, but cleaning is not very fun. Back before the apocalypse, you'd probably clean your desk and room maybe once every six months. Or a year if you were particularly lazy.

Hoseok keeps yelling at everyone to "Put your backs into it!" Jungkook's ordered to scrub the floors and Taehyung gets to wash the rug. You just shut the bathroom door to drive a partition between the loud men.

But the repetitive scrubbing motions help soothe you. And you have to admit, it's a little bit satisfying to see all the muck wash down the drain when you scrub extra hard. However, after a while, it becomes a bit lonely to clean by yourself. Through the door, you can hear the others joke around and prank each other. Somehow, they're making cleaning sound fun.

You finish the last of your part in the bathroom and walk out with a PSA in mind. The men look up when you clear your throat. "Ahem, ahem. Please, for the love of god," you say, "put the fucking toilet seat down."

Jimin cocks his head at you. "But there are seven men and one of you."

"Oh, shut up!" Seokjin slaps Jimin. "Don't be a dick about using your dick."

"Uh, yeah, and it's just not fair that I have to clean up after your horrible aims," you say, shrugging.

"Oof," Jungkook whispers, nudging Taehyung and giggling.

"And I need to go to take out the trash..." you say. "...Anyone wanna come with?"

"Nah, Yoongi and I'll take care of it," Jungkook says. "You can stay and rest."

He doesn't need to say it twice. "Really? Thanks!"

While Jungkook and Yoongi go off to go to the local school to dump the trash, you decide to help Seokjin out in the kitchen. He normally doesn't let anyone around his precious workspace, but he found that you're significantly less clumsy than the other men.

The two of you end up making some soup from scraps and heating up bread. By the time everyone gathers around the living room with their bowls of piping hot soup, it's already dark out. Another day is nearly over.

And what better way to end the day than spend it with family time?

"I had so much time to think about this today," Jimin says. "What about twenty questions?"

"Oh, the thing where we ask twenty questions to come up with an object?" you say. "I'm down."

Everyone else mumbles their validations.

"I have a word," Jungkook snickers. "Shoot the questions." He downs his bowl of soup until there's nothing left.

"Okay, first thing's first," Namjoon says. "Is it alive?"

"No," Jungkook answers. "Is it not. The purpose of it is that it is not alive."

"Hmm..." Yoongi says. "Okay, then is it... um, a household object?"

"Well..." Jungkook pauses. "Yes?"

"Why'd you say that in a question?" you laugh. "Is it a weird household object?"

"Wait, that doesn't count as a question!" Hoseok says.

"Oh shit, sorry. I meant to say, have we ever used it in this house?"

"Um, I hope not," Jungkook snickers.

"Yes or no?!"

"No?? I think?"

"You don't know for sure??"

"I don't know if Yoongi has one of these! And if he uses it!" Jungkook says.

"Okay, fine. Then is it something essential to survival?" Yoongi asks.

"Oh, definitely not."

"Did you use it before the apocalypse?"

"Oh, hell no," Jungkook laughs. "But some of you might've."

"Some of us??" Seokjin says. "Wanna waste seven questions and find out who?"

"No!" everyone else choruses.

"So we know that it's kind of a household object, but we haven't exactly used it in this house... But some of us may have used it before we got stuck here..." Namjoon says. He hums thoughtfully. "Do you think it'd be smart to try to find out the general size of this object?"

Jungkook stifles a laugh.

"Why? Why was that funny?" Hoseok says. He narrows his eyes. "Hm, okay, is it larger than my hand?"

Jungkook laughs out loud. "I mean, it depends, really."

"You need to start giving better answers," Taehyung groans. "You're so fucking vague."

"So the size varies..." you say. "A shit ton of things have varying sizes!"

"I got a question!" Taehyung announces. "Would you typically let this object out in the open?"

"What kind of dumb question is that?" Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"What?? I'm sensing that this object is a weird one and I just wanna confirm it!!"

"No!" Jungkook exclaims. "Never. You would not wanna leave it out in the open."

"Money???" Namjoon guesses. "Do you guys think it's money?"

"How could some of us have used money before the apocalypse?" Hoseok laughs. "It's not money... We have to figure out which people would've used it before."

"Or we can ask where most people would keep the object," you say. "Here's my question, would it be in the kitchen?"

"Not typically, no. I also hope not," Jungkook says.

"Oh god, I can't help you guys now," Seokjin shrugs.

"Would it be in the bedroom, then?" Jimin asks.

"Oh, yes. Yes."

"What would you wanna keep hidden in the bedroom?" Namjoon scrunches his forehead.

Taehyung sniggers. "My mind is going places right now."

"Oh god," you groan. "Please don't—"

"Is it related to sex?" the law student blurts out before anyone can stop him.

There's a dramatic pause before Jungkook nods. "Yes."

"I KNEW IT!" Taehyung pumps his fist in the air victoriously. "It's a sex toy. I can feel it."

"Something that only a few of us would use..." Jimin trails off. "Is it for both sexes?"

"Um..." Jungkook says. "Yes? I mean, you would think it's for women... But I think some men would use it too... Aw man, I just gave you guys a huge hint."

All of the men turn to you. "What have you got for us?" Yoongi says.

You try to rack your brain. "Um... maybe a vibrator?"

"Is that your answer?" Jungkook says.

"Um, yes?"

"Nope!"

"How many questions do we have left?" Hoseok asks.

"Eight," Jungkook answers, grinning. "But I'm pretty sure you guys will get it right."

"Um... um..." you try to think, but nothing's coming up in your head. "I don't know! I don't really use toys in the bedroom!"

"I got it!" Namjoon shrieks. "I got it!"

"What is it??"

"Butt plugs!!"

Jungkook throws his head back to laugh. "N-No!!" he wheezes.

"Oh, wait," Seokjin says. "I think I know."

Everyone holds their breaths as he prepares to reveal the answer.

"A dilidio."

"A WHAT?" you nearly fall over laughing.

"NOOOO!" Taehyung screams, slapping his thighs and doubling over.

"Did you fucking mean dildo???" Hoseok yells, his face turning red as he laughs.

"Oh my god," Jimin giggles.

"I-I choked on my soup," Yoongi coughs, but he's laughing so hard it seems as if he doesn't mind.

"Oh no," Seokjin says. "I suppose I did mean dildo..."

Jungkook seems to be at a loss for words. He's laughing so hard that he's completely silent, his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut as he gasps for air. "Y-YES!" he finally screams. "You guessed it!"

"Your word was dildo the whole time?!" you shriek. "And you thought some of us used it??"

"Wait, you never used one?" Jungkook gapes. "I thought all girls—"

"No! Not all—I am not talking about this in public!"

"I've considered it before," Taehyung giggles. "But I backed down before things got serious."

"Oh my god," Namjoon wheezes. "I almost lost my lungs thanks to Seokjin."

Seokjin just shrugs. "I'm just here for comedic relief."

"Did you really not know how to say dildo??" Taehyung says.

Seokjin laughs nervously. "I mean... it slipped from my mind for a second... C'mon I'm a straight male who's a virgin. Cut me some slack."

"Sure," Taehyung giggles. "...dilidio," he whispers.

That results in another loud friendly argument, and by the time things are settled and everyone's abs are hurting from laughing, Yoongi decides to call it a night.

You slip into bed after changing tampons and try to drift off the sleep. But the worst thing about being on your period is that sometimes, you get bad insomnia on top of cramps. Curling up into the mattress, you hold your stomach protectively as you try to count the sheep to bore yourself to sleep. However, in your visions, the sheep turn into mutated zombies, so you have to force yourself to open your eyes to get the hideous image out of your head.

Sighing, you turn over so you're on your side and facing the side that Jungkook's sleeping on.

"Still awake?" comes a hushed whisper from below the bed. You can recognize the silvery undertone of Jungkook's voice anywhere.

"Yeah, just some insomnia," you shrug. "And cramps."

"Sucks," Jungkook whispers.

"Yeah..."

"Want me to help?"

"What??"

Before you know it, you hear rustling and Jungkook slips under the covers with you. "Here, I'll big spoon you," he says. "Some extra heat might help, right?"

"O-Oh, y-yeah..." You're so caught off guard that you can't help but stutter. "Are you sure this isn't some plot to just sleep in the comfortable bed?"

Jungkook laughs quietly. "Something like that," he jokes. He puts a reassuring arm around you, and you can't help but flush when he whispers, "Comfortable?"

"Mhm... T-Thanks," is all you can manage. You're so caught up in the fact that you're spooning with Jungkook that you completely forget about your cramps. He smells like Yoongi's soap—clean and a bit minty—like his usual spearmint cologne. It brings back old memories of the Jungkook you barely knew but was still attracted to. The Jungkook you know now is infinitely better.

A part of you knows he actually, genuinely cares for you. But another part of you worries that he's just being nice to get into your pants. You're usually good at spotting the typical ding-dong-ditch boys, so you hope your good judgments about Jungkook are correct as well.

But what kind of bad man cuddles platonically with a girl to help her with her period cramps?? Exactly. Jeon Jungkook is a saint.

And that's the last thought you have before you drift asleep in his strong arms.

When you wake up, Jungkook's not in bed with you; nor is he in the bedroom. It seems as if it's just you and Yoongi left sleeping. The others must be awake.

Waking up without Jungkook next to you almost makes you feel like yesterday had just been a miraculous dream. But you know it had happened. Why else would Jungkook's sleeping bag be arranged so neatly? He'd definitely fallen asleep with you. The thought makes your cheeks blush and you try to shake the feeling away.

You rub your eyes, yawn and carefully maneuver out of the room, avoiding sleeping Yoongi. Making a quick stop to the restroom to change your tampon, you walk out, stretching your arms and yawning. The cramps seemed to have ceased early this time, so you're feeling much lighter and happier.

The others give you their salutations.

"Feeling better?" Jungkook says. He sits up from the single couch to let you sit down.

"Thanks," you say, smiling at him. "Yeah, the cramps are gone at least."

"Sounds good, Y/N!" Seokjin sings from the kitchen. "Can someone wake Yoongi up??"

"I'll go," Hoseok sighs. "I swear, that man could sleep through the world ending."

"He already is," Taehyung laughs.

You smile at Taehyung's joke, turning to Jungkook to see if he had found it funny too. To your shock, you see Jungkook already looking at you, smiling softly.

"The worst's already over, right?" he says. "Maybe we can snag some painkillers for you one day."

"Oh, we shouldn't bother—"

"Come on, lovebirds!" Namjoon says. "Breakfast's ready!"

"Lovebirds?!" you and Jungkook shout at the same time.

"As if you guys don't make it obvious enough," Yoongi grumbles, scratching his back and squinting at the bright lights. "Didn't you two play footsie last night in bed?"

"We did not!" Jungkook scoffs.

"Wait, does that mean I get to move into the bedroom?" Taehyung asks hopefully.

"Why would it be you? What about me?" Hoseok says.

"Yeah! And me??" Jimin argues.

"Whatever. Whatever!" you shout, effectively silencing everyone. "Let's just please eat breakfast."

After another meal consisting of everyone talking over each other and making hilarious jokes, Seokjin announces that he's in need of more eggs. More vegetables would be nice too.

You and Jungkook immediately stand up and Yoongi just groans. "Do we really have to go today?" he grumbles. "I just wanna stay home."

"You've been staying home for over a week," Taehyung says. "Hey, can I tag along this time? I'm not afraid of a couple of zombies."

"Why so suddenly?" Yoongi raises his eyebrows. "It's not a fairytale, you know. It's serious work."

"I mean, Y/N and Jungkook make it look so fun..."

"Yes, we're pretty cool, we know," Jungkook laughs, scrounging around for his baseball bat and picking it up. "We're every zombie movie director's dream."

"As long as you can run really fast, then sure," you say.

"Yes!!" Taehyung exclaims.

Jimin shudders. "I still don't understand why you would want to go outside into the zombie-infested world..."

"One wrong move could get you killed," Hoseok says. "It's dangerous."

You shrug. "We've survived every time. And besides, zombies are the lesser species. They're stupid. Slow. And incredibly weak."

"Careful. Don't get too cocky," Namjoon says. "You sure you need an extra pair of hands to carry everything?"

"The more people we have, the more supplies we can get at a time," Jungkook answers. "Tae can come and that's final."

Taehyung won't shut up about how cool it would be to have zombies chasing after him as he ducks heroically around obstacles and wacks a few of them with makeshift weapons. It's like his head's stuck in the movie world.

Yoongi ends up putting his earplugs in.

You and Jungkook patiently listen to Taehyung's fantastical visions, wondering if the two of you should break it to him that yes, being a supplier is cool, but no, it is not action zombie movie cool.

When Yoongi announces that you've arrived at the destination, Jungkook cautiously pulls back the curtains on the bus and then frowns.

"Yoongi, this is Costco, not Target."

"Yeah, I know," the stoic man answers. "Figured the eggs came in larger packs here. And they have a special section for their fruits and vegetables to keep them fresh."

"Fresh after four months?" you raise your eyebrows.

"You can see for yourselves," Yoongi answers. "If not, there's a shit ton of food there anyway. Thought we needed a little upgrade from Target."

"Right..." Jungkook says. "But we also don't know how many more zombies are roaming around here."

"Seems like none to me!" Taehyung exclaims as he scans the perimeter. "Uh, at least none on the outside."

"Well... we have each other's phone numbers just in case. Ringtones on silent, right?" you say. "We'll call you if we have any trouble. And you'll call us if you're in trouble too. Though I doubt it." You shrug. "The most zombies we might have to encounter might be ten. And we can take ten easily."

"Exactly," Jungkook says. "But we'll still exercise caution."

"Right," Taehyung says. "We must exercise caution."

"And try to talk in a low volume," you say.

"Then everything will be just fine," Jungkook says, puffing out his chest.

Five minutes later, things are looking out to be... quite... not fine. But it's also too late to back down. The three of you are already deep in the large Costco building, and though it looked like there were no zombies outside, there were a shit ton inside. All sleeping.

You try to signal Jungkook and Taehyung to go back to the bus just in case, but the other two are firm on going through with the mission. The three of you tiptoe carefully across the building, making sure to speak sparingly or stay silent altogether.

Unfortunately, Costco doesn't have plastic bags, so you end up having to carry the carton of eggs. The vegetable section stinks of rotten food, so you avoid it completely. There aren't that many fresh foods in Costco that you can hold without making a complete racket, so the three of you gravitate towards the canned foods sections once more. You admit, there are way more options in Costco than in Target, but you quickly find out that it's hard to carry multiple cans at once without a bag.

You ditch the canned foods and pick up boxes of waffle, pancake and cake mix. In the midst of choosing how many of these boxes you should bring with Jungkook, Taehyung interrupts the quiet conversation by whispering aggressively: "Look! Look at this!"

Jungkook puts his finger to his lips. "Not so aggressively," he whispers. He nods at the couple of zombies sleeping in the same aisle, just several feet away—the closest you've ever been to those limping monsters. And all of you know there might be tens and tens more scattered around the store. No one wants to find out what would happen if they all woke up.

Taehyung pouts and twirls around in—

"A leather jacket?" you say. "Where the fuck did you get that?"

"It was literally lying on the ground somewhere. Pretty neat, huh? Makes me feel like I'm the star of a zombie apocalypse movie!"

"That's half true," you say. "You're not a star in a movie... Also, that's a woman's jacket. See the details on the side?"

"I don't care! It's still fucking cool—"

"Shh!! Shut the fuck—FUCK!" Jungkook shrieks.

The zombies in the aisle have opened their eyes and have seen the three of you. They slowly get up from the ground and begin to limp toward you, but surely, gaining speed.

"Ohhh no, oh no, oh no," you panic, gripping Jungkook's arms and nearly dropping the eggs in your arms.

"S-Stay calm," Jungkook says, but his eyes are huge and he looks panicked. "Um... run!" he whispers.

Taehyung grabs an extra box of waffle mix before dashing away, catching up to you and Jungkook. The three of you dash for your lives. You take a look back to see if the zombies are still following you, but you wish you hadn't. There are way more than the two initial ones who had spotted you. Now there's a gigantic hoard of them limping after you.

And man, the movies got it all wrong! These motherfuckers are kinda fast.

Maybe they can't exactly run, but they can definitely speed walk. Your feet pound against Costco's floors and the impact vibrates from your foot to the top of your head. The bat wedged between your arms has never felt so useless. The eggs held tightly against your chest are threatening to crack under the pressure of your hold. But you don't care. You've never been more afraid in your life.

One or two zombies is a joke. But at least thirty?? Wanting to bite your neck off? No fucking thank you. You cannot possibly fight that.

The only solace you have is Jungkook, who constantly looks over to make sure you're next to him. Though you know he can run faster than this, he keeps his running at your pace, and Taehyung runs behind both of you because either he's willing to turn himself into a sacrifice or he's willing to prove he's not afraid of zombies.

It might be the latter.

There's no time to text Yoongi; you'll just have to pray that he'll be waiting on the bus, ready to zoom off the moment the three of you get on. But when you finally run out of Costco's confining walls, your heart sinks. Jungkook puts his arm out in front of you to stop you from running any closer to the hoard of zombies bumping their heads on the very walls of the bus.

But there's little to no time to think.

Taehyung gestures violently and leads you and Jungkook to hop into Costco's food court kitchen, where thankfully, the windows are open. Jungkook slides into the room first and double-checks that it's completely safe and empty before helping you in. Taehyung comes in last, just before the zombies spill out of the entrance of Costco. They look confused, wondering where their three meals have vanished off into nowhere. But they don't seem to mind, wandering off to the bus where the rest of their ugly monster friends are.

You're breathing hard, so hard that you can barely breathe. All you can do is clutch your carton of eggs and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet as you squat down on the ground. Even Jungkook, the brave, seems a little fazed as he tries to comfort your shaking body by patting your back.

Only Taehyung doesn't look affected at all. He shrugs, setting down the boxes of food and pats his newly acquired leather jacket. "Everything will be fine," he whispers so quietly you can hardly catch his words.

"I-It's not!" you manage to whisper. "Yoongi's on that bus! A-And... I—what if—"

Taehyung pats your leg, helping you put down the eggs. You just hold your bat—as if it'll save you from the at least fifty zombies waiting outside. "Yoongi will be fine..." he reassures you. "Things will work out."

Jungkook shows his phone to the two of you, and there are several texts from Yoongi that indicate not to go near the bus right now.

"Tell him that we're fine," Taehyung says quietly. "That we'll wait for the zombies to go away or something."

Thank god Taehyung's here. It always helps to have someone who is unafraid. Someone who is still able to think straight after being chased by a hoard of flesh-eating zombies.

You decide to check your suspicions and open the carton of eggs to find eight of them cracked and leaking. You don't know what washes over you, but you're suddenly crying silent tears. Something about being stuck in the Costco kitchen with zombies guarding the bus you're supposed to go into and not exactly knowing what the future holds for you is fucking terrifying. And even worse, you had one job. But you'd managed to crack the eggs.

Taehyung and Jungkook are surprised to see your tears—especially Taehyung because he had never seen your vulnerable side before. Jungkook just hugs you, and you try to focus on the scent of mint clinging to his hair, while Taehyung lets you hold his hand.

No one dares to speak after that.

The zombies are pretty far away, but you're not willing to take any chances when the kitchen is a closed space. There's nowhere to run. And you obviously don't want to stay here all night. Night is when the zombie numbers multiply—at least in the movies.

You try to take silent, deep breaths to calm your rapidly beating heart. Jungkook's chest rests against your back, and you can hear his thumping heart as well. You know that he's a lot more scared than he lets on. But he stays calm for your sake.

Meanwhile, Taehyung just looks bored.

He taps meme song rhythms against the back of your hand and frequently (but also carefully) looks out the window to check if the zombies are gone. But they are not. They continue to rack their heads against the walls of the bus, and there are so many of them that sometimes, with a particularly hard knock, the bus leans to the side.

Maybe they can smell humans...

You just hope if they can, they won't be able to smell you three. If worse comes to worst, you'll actually have to fight for your life.

It's been nearly five hours.

Your legs are sweaty and your thighs stick to the ground, and it's gotten so stuffy that you, Jungkook and Taehyung have all given each other some space. There's still not much to say and it's too risky to talk, though.

The silence is horrible.

You start to think about everything. All the people you've wronged. All the people who hated you and would probably kill to see you like this. All the people who love you and would be heartbroken over the deadly situation you've entangled yourself in. All the people who you loved and are dead now, after meeting a tragic, zombie-ridden death.

It's worse that you're still on your period, and you've still got the tampon in—for more than eight hours too. But you try to forget about it; it's the least of your worries now.

At this point, you're not sure if you should just accept your fate. It already feels like you've lost a big battle. Why not just give up? The five hours you've stayed cramped up in the small kitchen felt like five days.

The others must be worrying at home. And oh god, Yoongi... He must be even more terrified to be alone on the bus and surrounded by zombies.

"H-Hey..." Jungkook whispers, placing his hand on yours. "Maybe we should go now..."

"What??" you exclaim in a low voice. "What do you mean go now??"

"Jungkook's right. There're fewer zombies surrounding the bus," Taehyung says, he crouches down but levels his eyesight to the parked vehicle.

"If we can manage to push them away from the doors and get in..." Jungkook starts. "Um..."

"We'll be totally fine," Taehyung says. He's got a small smile on his face—not a hopeful smile but a confident smile. You wonder what it takes to be so unafraid and unbothered.

But they're right. What used to be about fifty zombies have dwindled down to a measly ten to fifteen. Possibly twenty-five since some of them might be out of your line of sight. But it's much better than fifty. Still...

This would totally be asking to get bitten.

"I've already texted Yoongi. He says he'll keep a close lookout for us, and when the coast's clear, he'll let us in," Jungkook says. "C'mon..." He squeezes your shoulder. "It's better to try now than later, right?"

"You two can swing your bats around like mad," Taehyung says. "And I'll just, you know, try to stay alive and hold the supplies."

You twirl on him, your mouth gaping. "You're not gonna fight??"

"Someone has to hold the groceries," Taehyung laughs. "It's better for me to hold everything so you two have more mobility."

"Oh god. Oh god," you mumble. "We're going to have to do it..."

"Duh," Taehyung snorts. "C'mon, it'll be fun. Like in the movies."

Fun?? You could think of a billion counterarguments, but you shut your mouth.

"Just pretend the zombies are that creepy sexist male baseball coach you had in high school," Jungkook says. "Does that help?"

"I'm not very imaginative—"

"Okay, the goal is not to beat them up, anyways," Jungkook says. "Just enough for us to get into that bus in one piece..."

"Right," you say with a curt nod. "Just enough to survive..."

"They're just a couple of idiots with mangled bodies," Taehyung grins. "We'll survive."

"Of course," Jungkook snorts. He looks over at you as if to check up on your mental state. Though you're screaming on the inside, you manage to put on a stoic look on your face.

"Okay, well I'm ready," you finally whisper, gritting your teeth. "We'll uh... yeah, survive..."

"Exactly," Taehyung says, he pats your back before beginning to pick up all of the supplies. "You guys got my back, right?"

"Sure," Jungkook grins. "We'll keep you covered."

You nod along, though biting your lip nervously. "So we're just going to... make a run for it?"

"We're not really in the position to make up a battle strategy," Jungkook shrugs. "I'll be in the front, you can be right behind me and Tae'll be right at the back."

"Sounds like a plan," Taehyung says.

It's a simple plan that seems to be effective, but there are still a million things that can go wrong. Jungkook grips his bat tightly in his hands before looking back at you. He looks a little apprehensive himself, but he offers a tight smile.

"On the count of three, right?" Jungkook says, he looks at you specifically. "And no running off before."

You manage to smile nervously. "Yeah..."

"One..."

You take in a deep breath.

"Two..."

You breathe out.

"Three!"

You hold your breath as you charge, right behind Jungkook. Your feet pad silently against the ground; your surroundings are blurred. You can only see straight ahead.

You raise your bat above your head, ready to strike. Your grip around it tightens.

The zombies are still oblivious, but there are so many of them. Your ears can't seem to comprehend sound anymore. Your eyes narrow in on the monsters, and you make a mental target of the ones you're going to go after first. It's almost in slow-mo. Right before two opposing sides meet in war and clash.

Jungkook lets out a muffled gasp when he hits the first zombie across the head.

It's enough force for the monster to stumble back and fall to the ground. The other zombies notice and begin to charge slowly. You hesitate for just a second, watching Jungkook lash out at the monsters to clear the way for you and Taehyung to get into the bus. Then with revitalized vigor, you move, swinging your bat with all of your strength at the nearest, blood-thirsty zombie.

It growls before flinging backwards. The impact of the hit has your arms shaking uncontrollably, but there's no time to pause and recuperate. In fact, there's no time for you to think. One wrong move can get you killed.

You swing your bat over and over again. Never hitting the same zombie twice. Knocking down as many as you can. Helping Jungkook protect Taehyung who has no weapons at all.

Blood splatters everywhere, but you don't dare close your eyes. And it's too much of a risk to scream. You pant quietly, sweating profusely but gritting your teeth and fighting for your life. Literally.

But the zombies won't die the second time around. They manage to stand straight again and hobble towards you and the two others.

"Y/N!" Jungkook hisses, hair wet with sweat and eyebrows furrowed. "Knock on the bus door!"

He swings his own baseball bat around, subsequently knocking down three monsters. He's offering you and Taehyung protection while your backs are turned.

Following his order, you frantically knock on the bus door covered by curtains. As soon as your knuckle hits the glass, Yoongi peels back the curtain, his eyes wide and lips parted.

You know he can see the hoard of zombies still trying to maul Jungkook. He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing in the process. Nevertheless, in just a few seconds, the bus door opens.

"Hurry!"

Taehyung's the first one in, and you only stay to kick a zombie away from the entrance. Its hanging guts explode right on your shoe, making a disgusting mess.

"Jungkook!" you shriek.

He turns around, cursing as he knocks down more of the monsters.

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, looking between the safe insides of the bus and your friend struggling to fight the zombies. More of them are ganging up on him, definitely more angry that he'd tried to hurt them. There's no time to think at all. It's all instinct when you jump out, unexpectedly knocking one zombie over. But it creates a miracle domino effect.

Jungkook doesn't hesitate. He grabs your arm, turns around and runs toward the entrance of the bus. The moment your foot is in the door, Yoongi slams it shut.

Loud thumps can be heard from the glass as the zombies angrily protest against the loss of a meal.

Just when you worry that the glass might crack from their vicious head-butting, Yoongi gets in the driver seat and slams his foot down on the gas. The bus lurches forward, definitely crunching over some of the zombies and subsequently flinging you, Jungkook and Taehyung to the back of the vehicle. The gathered supplies fly every which way, but Yoongi continues on, jerking the steering wheel left and right to throw off the zombies.

Your heart is thumping so loud, you can't even hear the skids of the bus wheels against the concrete. Hell, you can barely even see straight.

Even after Yoongi pulls out of Costco's parking lot and continues to speed out of the city, you're unable to speak, completely frozen. And no one speaks another word until you can see Yoongi's modest home several yards away.

Safety is close.

The anxiousness is just about dissipating within you when—

"Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" Yoongi curses, repeatedly slamming his foot on the gas pedal only for the bus to slow down, sputter and come to a complete stop. "Well, shit," he sighs, turning around to face you, Jungkook and Taehyung. "Bus broke down."

"Welp!" Taehyung sighs, standing up and brushing the dirt off of his clothes. He's got a few bloody smudges on his cheap Target t-shirt (he had to give up Gucci ever since the apocalypse), but he's in a much cleaner state than you and Jungkook. The law student shrugs, gathering up most of the supplies in his arms. "At least it didn't break down back at Costco."

"Do you think we can fix it?" you say, eyebrows furrowed. "And is it safe outside?"

"Zombies don't really come here... I think," Jungkook says, frowning. "Um, but I'm sure we won't be ambushed out there."

"We'll have to see if the bus is fixable," Yoongi says. "But I'm no mechanic." He looks more on the worried side, fidgeting with his hands. "Let's get out of here."

With your knees still shaking and head still light, you stand up, nearly wobbling over if Jungkook had not supported you. Yoongi carries the rest of the supplies, unveiling the bus door and busting it open. You and Jungkook carry your bloody bats, you especially distraught over the violent mess that had been made of your precious sports equipment.

Taehyung's the first one out, stretching his back leisurely before taking a look around the surroundings. "Zombie-free!" he exclaims. "Damn, look at the bus! Didn't know zombies could even bleed that much!"

You make a disgusted face at his comment. I definitely don't want to be reminded of fighting those monsters anytime soon.

Taehyung's right, though. The bus windows are splattered with now dried droplets of blood, and the sides are even worse, harboring the brunt of the zombies' remains. You have to look away.

Though there are seemingly no monsters roaming about in the vicinity, Jungkook ushers you towards the house as quickly as he can. It's not worth the risk. Not worth the extra trauma.

Before any of you can get to the front door though, it swings open with a very worried looking Jimin nearly in tears.

"I thought you guys were dead!" he screams, tugging everyone in the house before slamming the door shut. When he pulls back, Jimin's jaw drops open. "Blood?!"

"Oh god..." Namjoon gasps, quickly rushing over to check up on you and Jungkook. "Anyone bitten?"

"What the hell happened?" Hoseok cries. "We couldn't even call! Our phones died and you took the chargers!" He points at Taehyung.

"Oh, Y/N..." Seokjin gasps when he realizes you've started to cry. "Hey... hey..."

"We had a little bit of a problem," Yoongi says. "Went to Costco instead of Target. It's my fault... And they had to deal with it."

"It's cool, bro," Taehyung says. "Got this cool leather jacket out of it. But also almost died in the process."

Seokjin embraces you, making you cry even harder. The stoic façade that you had put up inside the bus and all throughout the afternoon had broken apart.

"I-It was," sniff, "n-not c-c...ool," you manage to get out against Seokjin's chest. "I... I've never b-been s-so... scared."

"You've made it out alive," Seokjin whispers, patting your head. "It's okay..." He pulls back and murmurs a quiet "Yikes," when he sees blood splatters across your face and even down to your neck.

"Y-Yikes?!" You cry even harder. Everything you'd been holding in for the last four months, all the times you missed everyone you'd known in your life, all the times you'd had a major existential crisis—it all comes crashing down on you. Leaving you broken.

Seokjin awkwardly holds you, not sure of what to say and do. The rest of the men seem at a loss for words as well.

Finally, Jungkook's the first to take action. He walks forward, wiping off the dried blood from your chin before sighing. "You're a professional zombie fighter," he says, crouching down to meet your eye level. "You were brave, calm and collected when you needed to be, and you survived. Plus, you saved me. You should be proud of yourself. You did good."

You manage to scoff amidst your tears. "Y-You mean," sniff, "that you did w-well."

"Yeah, whatever," Jungkook snorts. He just pats your back and helps you sit down on the couch in the living room.

"What's that about Y/N saving your life?" Jimin says.

"Um... well, how about we start from the very beginning?" Jungkook suggests, sitting on the couch ledge. "It's a long story."

"Man, it was bad fortune after bad fortune after bad fortune!" Taehyung exclaims. "Like literally, just when we thought we survived everything and could live to see another day, the bus fucking broke down!"

"Wait, the bus broke down??" Hoseok shrieks. "And eggs and what the fuck is that—cake mix—are the last things we got???"

When you look like you're going to start crying again, Namjoon cuts in. "Cake mix can last for months. And eggs are delicious!"

"We're doomed," Jimin groans. "How are we gonna get our supplies?"

"And the eggs are cracked," Seokjin says as he frowns at the opened carton of eggs. "Thirteen out of twenty-four."

You shake your head in disbelief, biting your lip to keep yourself from crying tears of frustration. Nothing had gone right today. Nothing at all.

"I'm so sorry," you mutter. "I was holding them so tight... I didn't think they'd..." You can't even continue on, losing your voice mid-sentence.

"Hey, no," Seokjin says. "I uh, didn't mean it like that. Um, I can still totally cook with what's left!"

He tries to lighten the downwards spiraling mood, but it's no use.

"You guys could've died," Jimin gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. "Like, Jungkook could've really been a goner."

"I can't even imagine myself being in a rocking bus," Hoseok shudders. "And zombies are the ones rocking it."

"I'm just glad no one got bitten," Namjoon says. "We were worried sick!"

"No, seriously," Jimin says, "we thought you guys died."

"Yeah, it felt like I was close to death," Yoongi snorts.

"Every day we're out here means we're closer to death," Namjoon sighs, shaking his head.

"Oh, man, I don't wanna die... and then become undead," Taehyung grumbles. "Then what's the point of dying??"

"Actually, though," Hoseok grumbles. "You're right. Would we still be conscious if we were bitten and turned into monsters? Or would we be stripped from our personalities and minds?"

"I'm not sure about you, but I personally don't think I have the 'I want to bite your head off' personality within me," Jungkook snickers.

"Ew, stop talking about death," Seokjin complains. "It's stinking up the whole place." He looks at you, Jungkook and Taehyung. "And you guys need a good shower," he says as-a-matter-of-factly. "I'll make some omelets for dinner. Jimin? Hoseok? Help me, please."

"Wait what about m—" Namjoon says.

"No," Seokjin says abruptly. "You're not allowed in the kitchen."

Namjoon pouts but he soon finds something to do in his study binder. Yoongi trudges into the bedroom saying he needs to sleep the terror off.

That leaves you, Jungkook and Taehyung amongst yourselves.

"You can go first, Y/N," Taehyung says, taking one look at the tears staining your cheeks and the state of your clothes. "You look like you really need that shower."

"Agreed," Jungkook says. "We might have to throw our clothes away too. The blood on it is disgusting considering that it's not even ours..."

"Wait... blood?" You freeze as horror dawns on you. "Oh no. Oh fuck."

Before either Jungkook or Taehyung can ask what's wrong, you dash into the bathroom and lock the door.

With all the stupid commotion, you had totally forgotten about your tampon. Cursing under your breath, you manage to get it out—though with a bit more struggle than usual. But no matter, right? It's out now. Albeit, it had been inside for way longer than eight hours.

But nothing feels wrong down there, so you shrug. You've lucked out; you just won't be as reckless again.

Hopping into the shower, you let the warm water caress your skin before scrubbing your body from head to toe. You leave the shower a bit early (so the others have warm water too), but you leave feeling more refreshed, alive and relaxed.

While Jungkook and Taehyung take their turns in the shower stall, you meander into the kitchen to help Seokjin. (Jimin and Hoseok had come up with elaborate excuses to not cook, leaving the intern chef to do everything.)

By the time everyone is gathered in the living room, dinner preparation is finished. Normally, there's a lot of chatter, but the mood is solemn today. Everyone eats in silence.

In the beginning, you're unable to conjure enough of an appetite to eat. But the omelet smells heavenly and watching the others scarf it down helps a lot. You're able to ignore all the horrible images of blood and gore and zombies from your mind, picking up your fork to finally dig into the food. The omelet is delicious, but you don't have the guts to compliment Seokjin's efforts. Even the normally talkative people are quiet, preferring to dine in silence to succumb to the somber mood.

You're not even sure family game time will progress like this. Everyone's too preoccupied with the fact that half of the group could've died today. From just a simple mistake. And the fact that you broke down crying multiple times has made everyone cautious of their word choice.

"...Maybe we shouldn't play a game today," Jungkook says, looking carefully at you to check your reaction.

You bite your lip. "I don't know... It's almost like tradition."

"I know..." Jungkook sighs. "But is everyone in the mood, though?"

There are quiet murmurs; no one's feeling like they have to outwardly voice their opinions, but everyone's nodding subtly. Even so, an awkward silence befalls upon the group. You fidget with your hands, unsure whether you should just go to bed or not. There's an unsettling feeling taking over your stomach, which you're pretty sure has something to do with the traumatic events that had unfolded earlier today.

Finally, Namjoon clears his throat.

"I never really told anyone this..." he starts, playing with his fork. "Um... but I guess I can say it now... Not that there's any way the secret'll get out..."

"Secret?" Hoseok raises his eyebrows. "Did you start the damned apocalypse?"

"Oh my god, movie plot twist!!" Taehyung gushes.

"What?? No!" Namjoon says. "It's just a small secret I've been carrying with me since I was six."

"Oh?"

"Yeah..." Namjoon sighs. "I know I'm supposed to be the face of intelligence, but I suppose I wasn't a bright child... Um, well... You see, when I was the ripe age of six, I genuinely thought the moon and the sun were the same thing..."

"No way," Taehyung gasps.

"Yes way," Namjoon shakes his head. There's a pink blush on his cheeks, signifying that he was already embarrassed. "I just thought people called the same circle in the sky different things depending on whether it was day or night! C'mon, I was six."

"Um, when I was six, I definitely knew the difference between the sun and moon," Jimin snickers. "That's like, common sense."

"Oh, I doubt you've never had a dumb moment in your life," Namjoon says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"I've had plenty, actually," Jimin says—almost as if he's bragging about it—"you see, there was this one time—"

"Wait, are we just going to share our funniest secrets?" Hoseok cuts in.

"Yes!" everyone except him choruses.

"Anyways," Jimin drags out, "okay, so starting with the bad news first. I think it was back in high school or something. Junior year, maybe? I totally forgot we had a test in the middle of the week so, of course, I didn't study. Bombed that test. Like to the point that I was the lowest score."

"How can you have any good news after this?" you gape.

"You would not believe it," Jimin cracks a smile. "I got my test back and sure enough, I got a 43%. But the best part!!" Jimin pauses dramatically. "My class grade went up!"

Namjoon's jaw drops open and you wonder if it could've unhinged if he had dropped it any faster.

"What do you mean your grade went up after scoring a 43%?!" the med school student roars. "How low was your grade?!"

Jimin just grins. "One secret at a time, my man. One secret at a time."

"You think that's bad?" Jungkook chimes in. "I used to hold my breath in front of the microwave so I wouldn't get hit by the fucking electromagnetic spectrum microwaves."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how that works," Yoongi snorts.

"I know," Jungkook sighs. "That's why it's so embarrassing."

"Oh, really? I broke up with the love of my life because she didn't know who Gordon Ramsay was," Seokjin admits. "And now she's with a better man."

"Sucks, dude," Taehyung shakes his head.

"I know, it was some rough times," Seokjin shakes his head. "I really clowned myself on that one."

"It's okay," Jimin says. "Single people are superior people."

"That's what single people say to make themselves feel better," Jungkook snickers.

"It doesn't make me feel better. It's a fact!" Jimin protests.

"Where's the evidence, though?" Namjoon says. "Facts need supporting evidence."

"Oh my god, can we please go back to the confessions?" you say.

"Oh! I have a funny one from law school!" Taehyung volunteers.

Everyone shuts up and becomes all-ears.

"Okay, so in law school, sometimes, the prof cold calls you. You know, where they basically call on you in front of the whole fucking class to brief a case. Which basically means you're supposed to summarize the details of a case, right?" Taehyung laughs at his own memories. "But guess who didn't read about the case at all?" He pauses just a bit before declaring the obvious answer: "Me! That's who! Too busy getting hammered the night before. And guess who the fucking prof cold called? Also me!"

"Oh no..." you groan. "What happened?"

"I had no idea what the case was even about," Taehyung snorts. "So I made one up on the spot. A criminal case—just because those usually get so much more exciting. Everyone around me was confused as fuck. So was the professor. But I briefed such a good imaginary case that the prof let it go. I would've been the best lawyer ever if it hadn't been for this stupid apocalypse."

"What the fuck? Your professor didn't even get mad?" Jimin says. "What was the case about?"

Taehyung grins. "Oh, I put in a little bit of this, a little bit of that. A hybrid of a Ted Bundy, Jack the Ripper and Zodiac Killer did the trick. Also the story of a heroic woman who escaped the mad man and made it alive to press charges. It was insane. I loved every single second of it, and I was making it up as I went!"

"Sometimes, Tae, I think you're a different breed," Jungkook says.

"I think we all agree with that," Hoseok says. "I mean, imagine having the nerve to completely disregard important college assignments!"

"Everyone makes mistakes!" Taehyung argues. "You probably did a couple of stupid things in your life. Why don't you share some with us?"

"I don't think I've done anything stupid in my life," Hoseok says. But he freezes. "Well, I was only thirteen then... It shouldn't count."

"Thirteen-year-old boys are idiotic," you say. "That's tea. Continue."

"I-It's not uh, very dramatic at all," Hoseok says, suddenly turning a bright shade of red. "It was no big deal, actually..."

"Spill," Jimin threatens.

Hoseok sighs. "Fine. One faithful day in junior high, I got in a fight with my mother. I told her I never needed her help with anything ever again. So she told me she wouldn't drive me to school that morning. I said I didn't care and proceeded to put on my rollerblades and skated to school to show that I was an independent young man."

"Where's the catch?"

"Um... I forgot to bring an extra pair of shoes to change into at school," Hoseok says. "But I didn't want to call my mom because that would mean I would've lost. I voluntarily walked in my socks for the rest of the day."

"I mean, at least you went through with it," Seokjin laughs. "I kind of have respect for that."

"Well, thanks," Hoseok shrugs. "I thought I was an idiot. Looking back now, I guess we all made stupid mistakes."

"Not all of us. Y/N, do you have something to share?" Taehyung asks.

"Hm..." You try to wrack your brain to come up with something. "Oh yeah. Once, I got fired from my barista job because some dude tried to hit on me."

"Why would you get fired for being attractive?" Jimin squints his eyes.

"Uh... Well, he was rude when he tried to get me to go on a date with him. Think he was some fucking incel or something. Super sexist. Anyways... I might've lashed back and said something that really made him get mad."

"What did you say?" Jungkook says. "Did you put the pig in his place?"

"Well, kind of. I did get fired for it," you shrug. "After I refused his offer to go on a date, he scoffed and told me he was too good for me anyway. And that a woman's place was in the lowly kitchen, so I was just on the right track."

"Woah," Seokjin gasps. "That is not cool. That is disgusting."

"How did you react?" Yoongi says, raising his eyebrows. "It's not easy coming back from something so rude."

"I think I have a special talent for that," you smile. "I told him, 'you are absolutely right sir, lemme go grab a knife while I'm at it.' He got really pale and called the manager. I lost my job."

"That's unfair!" Namjoon shouts. "And he didn't get in trouble whatsoever?"

"Nope," you sigh. "I had to starve myself for a few days just to save up money after I lost that job. Tough times."

"Oh, wow... I'm sorry," Jungkook says. "Some men are just not... it."

"I figured," you snort. "But I know how to put bad men in their place."

"I think you also know how to put good men in their place," Jimin whispers under his breath.

Next to him, Namjoon laughs. "As she should."

"So? Yoongi? Have you got anything?" you say, turning to the sleepy man who was mid-yawn.

Yoongi shrugs with a blank face. He begins to stand up, stacking everyone's empty dishes and taking them to the kitchen sink. You think he has nothing to share and is done with the confessions, but you're proven wrong when he comes back to the living room. He only pauses for a second to think. "I don't regret bringing the seven of you here the day the zombie breakout hit our city."

And then without a second glance, he walks out of the living room and into the bedroom, mumbling that he was tired and needed some sleep.

The rest of you blink at each other, unable to believe your ears. Usually, Yoongi is quiet and when he does speak, it's often without much emotional input. But this...

"That was weird," Jimin says. "He dropped the bomb on us and then just... left."

"I think it was sweet," you say.

"I agree," Jungkook smiles. "It was a nice way to end the night, anyway. Yoongi must've been so tired... I know we were out there fighting off the zombies, but he was on the bus, waiting and waiting, barely sure if we could get out alive."

"The stress probably got to him," Hoseok says. "We should all go to bed early. After today, we all need a good night's sleep."

"Yeah..." Namjoon agrees.

"Can I sleep in the bedroom?" Taehyung asks hopefully. "It's the only way I can actually get to sleep tonight," he pleads, though everyone knows he's lying through his teeth.

You and Jungkook look at each other, wordlessly communicating that the two of you would share the bed again. Your cheeks warm even at the thought.

"Fine," Jungkook answers. "But the bedroom policy's strict. No talking after lights out."

Taehyung laughs. "Don't worry. I'm so tired, I'll fall asleep before my head even hits the pillow."

You'd gotten in bed with Jungkook, him holding you tight in his arms and playing with your hands until he'd heard your soft, even breaths. He helps you calm down. Helps you escape.

But in the middle of the night, you wake up shivering violently. Jungkook is still embracing you and there is a blanket encompassing your body, but you are uncannily chilled. Almost as if you can't breathe. You struggle against the blankets, kicking them away, much to Jungkook's sleepy groaning protest. And when Jungkook complains too much, you end up kicking him out of the bed. You just feel too suffocated.

And when you wake up in the morning, you dash to the bathroom and vomit last night's dinner in the toilet.

The moment Namjoon sees you looking barely alive, he declares you need to stay in bed. You comply, trying to fight off that stupid headache you have. Crawling back under the covers, you attempt to focus your mind elsewhere to ignore the pain burning throughout your whole body.

Even Namjoon and Taehyung are stumped.

"It can't really be something you ate..." Namjoon says. "Because we eat the same things. If you caught it, we all should've as well."

"And we've had literally zero contact with other people, right?" Taehyung says. "Where could she have gotten it?"

Nevertheless, Namjoon rules your illness as the stomach flu—especially when you'd started to get severe diarrhea. No one else is allowed around you, even though Jungkook tries to talk to you from the other side of the bedroom door.

And for two days, you're given the stomach flu treatment. Seokjin cooks up rice in the kitchen to feed you and Jungkook and Taehyung follow Yoongi on a walking trip to a small but local convenience store to get some Gatorade and frozen bananas. Namjoon even finds some antibiotics that might work.

Although you feel like shit, you know that with your friends nurturing you and making sure you eat all the right foods and get proper rest, you'll be up and at it in no time.

Except on the fourth day, you pop a 103-degree fever with symptoms that include but are definitely not limited to delusion, fatigue, redness and irritation.

Namjoon sighs, looking at Yoongi's old, outdated thermometer. "I really hope this is broken and the numbers are far off."

You're almost in no state to react.

"She's burning up, though," Taehyung says. "We've tried everything..."

They sound worried and unsure of what to do next. But you can barely comprehend their words, head lolling tiredly to the side as you try to shut out everything in the world and rest. It's a hard thing to do too—your body feels like it's burning in the pits of hell and your head spins even though you're lying completely still. Whatever cold you caught, it's the worst you've had in your whole life.

When Jungkook worriedly peeks his head through the bedroom door, Namjoon crossly waves him away. He lets out a frustrated grunt, looking between you and Taehyung with a frown stretched across his forehead. "Maybe it's not... stomach flu...?" He says it like a question rather than a sure statement.

"These are stomach flu symptoms, though," Taehyung sighs, pointing at you. "What else are we supposed to do?"

"I'm not sure..." Namjoon trails off. "Stomach flu symptoms usually call for a low-grade fever. 103 is something else. 103 is..." he trails off. "That's really dangerous..."

"Is she..." Taehyung bites back his words. "Is she going to be okay?"

Namjoon looks at you again. He reaches over with a moist rag and pats it across your forehead to clean up the perspiration. "Y-Yeah," he says in his shaky voice. "She'll be fine..."

The mood is quiet and solemn. It's hard for the two men to watch you suffer, but they're supposed to supervise you, so it's their job to stay put and tend to your every need. But Jungkook suddenly barges into the bedroom with wild hair and crazed eyes. He's panting, sweating even.

"I don't think that's stomach flu!" he yells.

"Shh!" Namjoon shushes Jungkook aggressively. "Keep it down!"

"Not stomach flu??" Taehyung gasps. "How do you know??"

Jungkook tosses Taehyung a blue box, which the law student catches with quick reflex. "Read the fucking box, guys. Read it."

"J-Jungkook?" you groan. Your eyes flutter as you try to get a clear vision of the man. "Kook?"

He just shakes his head repeatedly, unable to walk any closer to you. "Y/N..."

Taehyung holds up the blue tampon box, frowning. "So you're saying she has Toxic Shock Syndrome?"

Namjoon gasps. "Oh god."

"According to the internet, Y/N's showing the exact symptoms of it," Jungkook says. "We have to get her to the hospital."

"We can't be 100% about that, though," Namjoon says. "TSS requires a medical diagnosis... you know, with medical equipment."

"The hospital has medical equipment," Taehyung points out.

"We'll have to figure out a way to get there safely, though," Jungkook says. "Because the damn bus broke."

The others begin to pour into the bedroom, all looking extremely stressed and worried. "I told her tampons were dangerous," Seokjin says.

"Not really," Jungkook sighs. "Apparently, TSS is rare... but like... it kind of happens when you leave the tampon in for too long."

You deliriously shake your head. "A-Am I... Gonna d-die?"

"No," Namjoon says firmly. "We'll get you to the hospital."

"Yeah, and the nearest one's about a five hours walk from here," Yoongi says, crossing his arms. "And the box label right here says that TSS is a serious disease that may cause d—"

"Shut up," Seokjin scoffs, giving Yoongi a meaningful glare. "Serious or not, we'll cure it."

"We should leave right now, then," Taehyung suggests. "I mean, look, she's been like this for four days..."

"Right now??" Hoseok says, raising his voice. "We're not prepared! It's a five-hour walk. And we don't even have a bus!"

"Hoseok's right," Jimin butts in. "We need to prepare for this."

"So we prepare now, rest and go tomorrow morning," Hoseok says. "It's a plan, right?"

"We??" Namjoon counters.

You manage to turn your head to stare blankly at Jungkook. "Is... everyone gonna go...?"

Jungkook kneels down and grabs your hand. "We're all going to go. I promise."

"What??" Jimin hisses. "I thought when we were saying we, we meant—"

Namjoon shushes him.

"It's okay..." Jungkook whispers, resting his forehead against the back of your hand. "We'll get you treated," he says. "You'll be okay..."

It's the last thing you hear before you fall into a painful slumber.

—part 1 | part 2

—masterlist