#and now i’m back. and i’ve walked like 7 miles total somehow

[gobbluthbutagirl]

guess who walked 3 miles of hollywood boulevard today 👍

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 8

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ; Part 6 ; Part 7

Masterlist

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

Part 8 –

49 days of summer camp left

Caroline sat in her bed, hugging her knees against her chest. Her and JJ had the afternoon off and despite his attempts to lure her into hanging out, and her infatuation with the boy, she’d turned him down, wanting to spend a few hours alone with herself to compose her thoughts. It had been exactly two weeks since the night Madison disappeared. No one had bothered to mess with the campers since then, the bonfire area hadn’t been touched and no dead animals were found in anyone’s suitcase. To the rest of the camp, this seemed like victory; to Caroline – it seemed like the calm before the storm.

During their first day at Camp Willowdale, all of the counselors had been given a Willowdale-branded set of items they’d have to use during their stay. It came with the obvious STAFF t-shirts, sweaters and hats, but it also consisted of other things – such as the thermoses Caroline and JJ were still using to sneak whiskey into their daily routines, and notebooks in which they were advised to plan out their group’s daily schedules. Caroline however had been using her notebook for other purposes. She’d become so obsessed with Madison’s case, that every little thing that happened on camp grounds and seemed even a little out of the ordinary, immediately became a clue to her, which she’d hastily scribble down in her notebook. It had only been two weeks since the disappearance of Madison Hague and Caroline had already filled about a quarter of the pages of her hefty notebook with potential clues and leads. She kept rereading her notes, trying to think of something – anything – that they could do to help them solve the mystery, however nothing was coming to her. Ever since the dress incident, Caroline and her friends hadn’t found anything else that could relate to Madison, though Caroline was glad that none of them had given up on their mission.

Caroline was so deep in her own thoughts, she nearly jumped at the sound of a sudden knock on the door. She quickly closed her notebook and tucked it under her mattress and went to open the door, revealing a panting JJ leaning on the doorframe.

“Hey, C,” he breathed.

“JJ, what’re you doing here? I told you I -”

JJ cut her off by pushing past her and walking into her cabin, “Yeah, yeah, you wanna be alone, I know,” he sat on her bed, taking his snapback off, “but I was thinking… you’ve been so busy with the kids and with the whole Madison thing, and believe me – I really appreciate you for being like that, but -”

Caroline crossed her arms, “Where are you going with this?”

JJ sighed, “You’ve just totally forgotten how to have fun, C,” he said, “The primary reason that we all came here was to have fun and look at you – you barely eat, or sleep, or do anything other than your counselor duties and this whole Madison investigation thing…” JJ sighed again, looking at the hat in his lap and playing with its adjustable strap, “All I’m saying, C, is what if Madison really did go home and you’ve just wasted all this energy on nothing…Thing is,” JJ looked up into her eyes, “I miss you, the old you, and I know that that you’s still somewhere in there, it’s just this whole Madison thing blocking it.” he placed the hat back on his head and stood up, walking towards Caroline, “Hang out with me now,” he said, stopping directly in front of her and lifting her chin up so that she was facing him, “And I promise we’ll think about Madison later,”

Caroline couldn’t really process what was going on. JJ was touching her and standing in such an intimate distance from her, that she could basically feel his breath on her face. For a second she forgot all about Madison, and the dead owl, and the bonfire area. All she could think about was JJ Maybank, who had just told her that he misses her and wants to “hang out with her”. Caroline stood there, lost in thought. What if he was right? What if Madison really did go home and that dress never even belonged to her? What if it was Jenna Kinley’s all along and Sarah had just gotten the perfume wrong? What if JJ really did miss her because he liked her as more than a friend? No, no, that couldn’t be it. But what if –

“Um, Carrie?” JJ’s voice suddenly broke her out of her trans, “So d’you wanna do something together or -”

“Yes!” she said, a little too excitedly for her own taste, of course I’d like to hang out with you, JJ, she thought, “What do you want to do?”

JJ’s face immediately lit up at her words, “Well I was thinking perhaps a picnic?”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, “Don’t picnics require food? We don’t have access to anything unless it’s mealtime,”

“Yeah, but we do have whiskey,” JJ winked with a mischievous look on his face, walking towards the storage room of the girls’ cabin where they still had a few bottles of alcohol left.

Caroline rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless – this was going to finally be her first date with JJ Maybank. Well, sort of.

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

The afternoon sun was low in the sky, casting a beautiful orange reflection onto the peaceful water of lake Willowdale. Caroline and JJ had taken a seat on the lakefront, drinking their whiskeys and admiring the sunset, reminiscing the days when they were kids again.

“D’you remember that one summer when Rafe Cameron got food poisoning and ended up barfing on stage at the Will-all-hail banquet?” JJ laughed at the memory.

Caroline frowned, thinking about it, “Beats having Rafe Cameron as your counselor by a mile,”

JJ turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, “Rafe was a counselor here?” his tone almost sounding amused.

Caroline nodded, “Oh yeah,” she smirked, “For the same reason as Sarah – too stuck up for his own good so their dad shipped him over here as a punishment,”

JJ snorted, “I mean that family is pretty far up their own ass,”

“They have a sister too,” said Caroline, “I haven’t seen her around here though, so we at least know that one of them must be doing something right,”

The pair laughed at the thought of their spoiled friend and her older brother.

“Man, I missed this place,” said JJ suddenly, leaning back on his elbows.

His tone sounded different as he looked at the horizon and Caroline could sense that something wasn’t right, “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask -”

“Parents got divorced,” JJ quickly explained, “And unfortunately for me, my dad got custody,” he sighed, “Somehow my mom was deemed ‘incapable’ of taking care of me because she couldn’t financially afford to. Load of bullshit, if you ask me,”

“But my mom -”

“Yeah, they still talk,” said JJ, knowing what Caroline was about to say, “I still see my mom every other weekend, you know, it’s not the end of the world,” he smiled at Caroline reassuringly, “It’s just living with my old man meant working for my cut at home, which also meant summer jobs back in Kildare,”

“So that’s where you’ve been all this time…” whispered Caroline, mostly to herself, however JJ heard her.

“Yeah,” he responded, “Now that I’m old enough to be a counselor here and actually get paid for coming to summer camp I thought why not? Besides, your mom did tip mine off that you’d be here too,” he winked at Caroline, making her blush.

“Yeah, about that,” she said apologetically, “My mom likes to yap a lot, I wouldn’t take most of what she says seriously,”

“Well you are here, aren’t you?” said JJ, his face slightly leaning in towards Caroline’s.

Holy shit, this was it. Caroline was about to kiss JJ Maybank after a decade of fawning over him. Shit, shit, shit, she hadn’t really kissed anyone since that idiot from her class planted one on her at prom. What if she was a bad kisser? What if she’d forgotten how to kiss? As JJ closed his eyes and leaned even closer, Caroline decided to push the doubtful thoughts to the side as she closed her eyes too, leaning in towards him too. Their faces were inches apart, hearts pounding in their chests and, just as their lips were finally about to meet –

“There you are!” Sarah’s loud voice came from the hill behind them, startling them and making them both jump and immediately pull apart and straighten up. John B stumbled after her.

Caroline coughed awkwardly, trying to cover up the shame and embarrassment she was currently feeling, “Sarah… what are you doing here?”

With a knowing smirk on her face, Sarah put both hands on her hips, “Nothing,” she sing-sang, obviously finding the whole situation hilarious, “I’m sure it can wait,” she winked down at Caroline, while John B was waving around frantically behind Sarah at JJ, mouthing the words “DID YOU BONE?!” quite obviously.

JJ groaned as he stood up, helping Caroline up as well, “We’re all yours now, Sarah, what’s up?”

“Well me and John B had the afternoon free as well, so we went out front to his van and you’ll never believe what was taped to the door,”

“Wait, why’d you go to his van in the first place?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “That’s beside the point now, Carrie, look” she shoved a piece of paper in the girl’s hands.

As Caroline unfolded the paper, the group gathered around her to look at what was written on it - 41° 56’ 54.3732” N, 87° 39’ 19.2024” W.

“I have no idea what that means though,” confessed Sarah.

“Looks like coordinates to me,” said JJ.

“Hey, that’s what I said!” gasped John B, “But Sarah didn’t want to believe me,”

“Does anyone know how to read geographical coordinates?” JJ looked at his friends.

“Do I look like Google Maps to you?” asked Sarah.

“You’re right,” Caroline said as an idea sparked in her mind, “We can’t read coordinates, but I know someone who can,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“I’m just saying, Miss P,” JJ spoke confidently once the group was inside Pricilla’s office, “Now’s about the best time to host the traditional yearly treasure hunt,”

Pricilla squinted up at JJ through her pink glasses from where she was sat at her desk, “Keep talking, Maybank,”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that it’s already been two weeks and none of these kids can read a compass yet?” continued JJ, earning a slow nod from the camp director, “Think about it, Miss P – Willowdale ain’t Willowdale without its treasure hunt,”

As JJ spoke, the rest of the group were silently praying behind him that his charismatic way with manipulating will work on Pricilla, giving them an excuse to ask her to decipher the mysterious coordinates they had gotten their hands onto. The old lady leaned back in her old leather chair and looked at JJ skeptically for a while, adding to the already built up tension.

“Give me a few days to map out the course and set up the coordinates,” she finally spoke, causing everyone in the group to silently cheer behind JJ. As they thanked her and turned to leave, she spoke up again, “Oh, and Maybank,” she called, everyone turning to look at her, “No funny business,”

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

A/N: Finally some normal camp activities. Thank you for reading so far, I would greatly appreciate you letting me know what you think about the story and the characters xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04 ; @dumbasscorn ; @thrown-off-her-rhythm

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

I saw in your tags that there’s some old destiel fic you like on ffn. Do you have any recs ? :)

omg I haven’t been on there in years! like last time I read anything on there was like in 2014 lmao xD

32 fics total - I just checked and all of them are still up...there’s like 30+ more that I bookmarked that isn’t on the list cuz I’m not sure if they’re destiel fics or not so I gotta re-read them

all the ones below are fics that I’ve recced before in the past

1. All Angels Need Their Wings - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,784 (2012)

Dean never thought that Castiel would ever return. And when he did, he came in a very unexpected way, a very horrifying way. SLASH Castiel/Dean. Wing-Kink. Takes place in season 7. AU.

2. Heart Trouble - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 74,320 (2011)

Dean's having a harder and harder time of denying what he feels for a certain blue-eyed friend of his. And it's making him a little ornery, and a lot confused.

3. It Hurts - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,963 (2013)

Inspired by the S9 Trailer Cas had watched the angels fall and with them, his self worth. Now human facing the challenges of navigating mortality he also tries to find a place for himself in this new world. It is a hope he has to find without the Winchesters, without Dean. So now he runs, from both Heaven, Hell and from Dean. 

4. Small Problem - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 13,310 (2011)

A cursed artifact has made Castiel miniature, it's amusing for the Winchesters at first until they realize he might stay that way forever. Slash Dean/Castiel Please R&R

5 My Broken Angel - RATING: M | LENGTH: 24,999 (2010)

When Castiel disappears from his vessel, Dean is concerned. But when Castiel reappears and seems to avoid him, Dean is heartbroken. Set mid-season 5. 

6. A Hand - RATING: M | LENGTH: 23,474 (2010)

Dean/Cas, multichapter, slight AU. Dean's busy trying to re-soulify his brother, but Cas needs help. Maybe it's time Dean gave it to him. Ch. 15: Dean glared indignantly. "I find the term 'lovebirds' to be offensive. We prefer to be called 'sex-falcons.'" 

7. Saving Grace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 38,602 (2010)

With everything that was going wrong in Dean's life, it took him a while to realize that the person close to him that really needed the most help was Castiel. 

8. Candy - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 98,068 (2013)

The Fall from Heaven changed everything. The supernatural no longer hidden. Angels roaming the planet. Sam and Dean's immediate concerns were on a smaller scale. What do you do with the former King of Hell? Where is Castiel?... Destiel/Mute!Human!Cas/Angst!Dean

9. Dude, Dean Looks Like a Lady - RATING: M | LENGTH: 20,774 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

Sam's good, Cas has been found, and demons everywhere seem to be on hiatus. Seems like things are looking up for Team Free Will that is until Dean wakes up with his very own vagina anyway. Warnings: Fem!Dean, Destiel, female masturbation and S8 spoilers.

10. Evil Intent, Trials of Love, & Finding My Angel - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 36,729, 70,453, & 59,941 *rape, graphic torture, violence* (2009)

Anna rapes Castiel and uses a method that torments him more than anything imaginable. WARNING: Rape and Castiel/Dean makes sense when you read it . If you don't like then don't read!

11. Cascade - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 (2013)

"And if you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall in flames!" An 8x23 coda. 

12. Count The Cracks, Hear The Shatters, Feel The Insanities - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

They've walked miles on gravel roads that led to hell and back but the journey never quite ends. This is the story of Castiel and the Winchesters after the angels fell from heaven. Post Season 8. 

13. Damn Straight & Wait Wait Wait - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: about 21,000 (2010)

Humorous Cas/Dean, with multiple POVs. Slight AU. Fluffy. Ch. 5: Sam sat in the Impala in the motel parking lot, praying that three and a half hours at the library had been long enough.

14. Entertaining Angels - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 43,659 *gen/pre-slash* (2008)

A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell. Spoilers through 4.10. Not an OC. 

15. Happy Friggin’ Valentine’s Day - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 22,771 (2010)

SLASH. It all started with Dean's perfectly healthy hatred of frivilous holidays and a much-coveted sack of dust. Poor Castiel doesn't fully understand 'romance' to begin with, and this crash course is most unwelcome. 

16. I’m Just a Love Machine - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 29,200 (2011)

The Impala finally gets the chance to love Dean back. The problem is, Castiel seems to be in its way. 

17. It’s The Great Destiel Shipper, Sam Winchester - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 49,641 (2012)

What's Sam really doing all that time on the computer? Fangirling. Over Chuck's Supernatural books. Now Wincest might be a bit too much to deal with, but Destiel he might be able to get on board with... Especially after being around the two people involved for three days straight. 

18. Pain in the Head - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 78,771 *character death* (2011)

It started out slow. "Since when do angels have headaches?" "Since they become human." Established Dean/Cas. Sort of AU. PG-13. Complete. 

19. Sleep in Heavenly Peace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 45,517 *christmas fic* (2013)

Dean wants to have a nice, peaceful Christmas for once, but it seems like the universe won't let him. Dean/Castiel. Post-8.08 (Hunteri Heroici) AU. First in "Holidays With the Winchesters are Always Fun." 

20. The Shattered One - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 94,021 *grace mpreg* (2012)

When it struck Castiel, it dropped him out of the sky. He set down the first place he could find. He stood in a field in Switzerland, swaying on his feet and staring down at his body, dazed by what it had just done.

21. This Cupid Isn’t Stupid - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 41,572 (2012)

Dean receives a shock when he wakes up to discover Castiel has returned. Why is the angel suddenly back? Why have his powers dimmed? And.. Why are he and Dean joined together by an invisible rope!

22. Wild Horses, Cas - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 23,505 (2013)

(S8 Spoilers (story is set in S9), Sickfic! Destiel, Minor Sabriel). When Cas comes down with a bad case of Pneumonia it leaves Dean feeling more protective over his friend than ever, but will it also lead to Dean's admittance of his feelings towards his friend? 

23. Wrong - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 51,384 (2010)

Angels are not supposed to drop out of the sky into motel rooms, broken and beaten. They're not supposed to bleed like that. It was all wrong. 

24. The Reluctant Contestant - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 50,502 (2012)

AU When Gabriel is hired as a new host for a dating show, Cas has no choice but to follow his brother along as part of the camera crew. Forced at the last minute to be a contestant, he is shocked when Dean Winchester continually refuses to eliminate him. 

25. The Ugly Duckling - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 81,676 (2012)

Castiel: a nerdy, skinny thing with a crush on the the most popular guy in class. Being unpopular isn't easy and it's worse when the homophobic school figures him out. A small struggle to be noticed by his crush is turned into a huge struggle for himself and his dignity. But bullying can get the better of anyone. Slash. Destiel rated M for later chapters. 

26. Nameless - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 77,882 (2013)

AU. Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist at birth. Well, everyone except Dean Winchester. Complete. 

27. Cufflinks - RATING: M | LENGTH: 61,845 (2012)

The world is full of creatures that prey on humans. It is up to 'Hunters' to fight against the dark. Lucky Hunters rely on the help of angels they have bound to their service. Sam and Dean may be good Hunters, but they have yet to capture an angel. One day, Sam finds an angel and seizes the opportunity to bind the angel to himself. Little did they know what they were getting into. 

28. Angel Training - RATING: M | LENGTH: 95,700, Angel Training 2: Save Us - RATING: M | LENGTH: 76,888, & Angel Training 3: Uprising - RATING: M | LENGTH: 89,512 (2011)

In a world where angels are common and the most privileged or skilled people are able to own one; the world's angelic hierarchy is about to change when Dean Winchester receives a wild and recently caught angel.

29. Chasing Your Shadow - RATING: M | LENGTH: 92,077 (2012)

The prophecy says that when Castiel turns twenty-three winters old, a stranger will come into his life and bring a lot of suffering. But do prophecies always come true? Demon Dean/human Castiel AU 

30. The Holiday - RATING: M | LENGTH: 32,088 (2011)

Castiel and Sam are unlucky in both life and love, so they swap houses for the holidays. Both find the experience highly...interesting. Dean/Castiel Sam/Gabriel

31. And In Your Arms I Shall Find Shelter- RATING: M | LENGTH: 33,824 (2012)

Dean Winchester is a long forgotten painter who suddenly receives an order for a painting from a rich man - Crowley. He is about to start painting when Castiel - his personal reaper visits him. The main question is: Will Castiel give Dean enough time to finish the painting? 

32. Jar of Hearts - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 127,192 (2013)

February being the supposed 'month of love' people seem to forget that it's also one of the coldest times of the year. Valentine's Day themed events in a cafe turned bar is how Dean managed the courage to speak to the locally famous singer and somehow score a date, a relationship, and a man he didn't deserve out of the deal. Destiel college/uniAU some Sabriel 

[stressed-sunshine]

Hey could I please get a five x reader fix with the prompts 7 and 16 please 👉🥺👈

You, Me, and this city

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Five Hargreeves x male reader

Theme song: j’ai cherché by amir

Words: 1433 words

Warnings: panic attacks due to ombrophobia (fear of rain)

Author’s note: I’m actually ombrophobic and I included coping mechanisms that I use on a daily basis. So, please be open to that when reading.

Prompts: 7. “What? Does that feel good?” 16. “You’re trembling.”

Summary: Y/N meets with his favourite barista at the Starbucks next to his laundromat every week, but one day, he’s off for their usual rendez-vous and the two disappear together to a city thousands of miles away to “hangout”. 

____________________________________________________

writing request link

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Y/N has been living in New York City for a few years since he started university. He walked a few blocks to do laundry every week. His apartment building had one, but it was too creepy for his liking. He’d often go to the Starbucks next door whilst they were in the washing machine. It was just too weird to sit there on his phone the whole time and pretend the laundry attendant wasn’t staring at him the whole time. 

He preferred to just order a tall drink and sit there instead. The baristas there were very nice to him and he couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t totally because of that. There was never a time where he didn’t come in and have his order taken by this one really cute barista. The boy was about his age with dark hair and green eyes. The two often would talk when he had a break in his shift or when the barista would buy him his drink. 

The best part to him was when he’d order a tea and the boy would low-key drag his taste in beverages. The duo had a tendency to do that to each other and as offended as both would be, they secretly loved the running joke. It was something they had that others would only see the superficial part of it. Y/N loved it when he would say something like that to him and another customer would stand up for them simply because he enjoyed the look on their faces when he told them.

That’s how it was for a while until one break on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. Y/N had come in at his usual time and the boy wasn’t there. He looked around for him with no luck. He asked the other barista and felt a tap on his shoulder. 

“Dude! I was worried.” He hugged Five and he returned the favour. 

“I took the day off. Plan was to go out for lunch, but I didn’t account for the weather.” 

“We could still go.” He chimed in, ignoring the fact that Five hadn’t asked him beforehand. “It’s just water, right?”

Five didn’t look comfortable with that. He looked away.

“Are you okay?” Five didn’t respond. “Is something wrong?”

He was quiet for a minute, “I don’t like the rain.”

“What?” He tilted his head, looking at his friend.

“I’m…” he shrugged his shoulder, licking his lip. “You know.”

“Oh… Oh! We don’t have to go somewhere else. We can eat here.”

“Actually,” he linked eyes with his friend. “I’m vegan.”

Y/N just opened his mouth wide and nodded. He was surprised that he didn’t know that by now, but when he thought about it, he couldn’t pin a time that he could’ve. Five was the type of person to drink black coffee almost all the time. 

“Why not, like, ‘blink’ us to another city where it’s dry?” 

Five looked at him with a smile and whispered, “The holder of the one brain cell.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s do it! Anywhere in particular?”

“San Francisco?” he shrugged.

“San Francisco it is.” 

With a cheeky smile, he grabbed his friend by the hip. A second later, they were on the corner of Laguna and Waller Street. His eyes were filled with excitement in the warm California air. It was drastically different than back home and it was welcomed. A free escape with someone he cared about. It was perfect.

His eyes returned to his friend and a warmth built in his face with the lack of space between them. Each pulled away and chuckled in the awkwardness.

“So-” their eyes met again. “Where are we?”

His companion pointed to a street sign nearby. 

“Laguna and Waller. I thought it’d be nice to walk. You know, for the tourist experience.” He smiled widely gesturing for no reason.

“Sounds baller. Low-key, I’ve always wanted to come here. Well, like not right here, but you knew-that.” he chuckled. “It’ll be really cool to be here.”

“Do you think we could check out more stuff whilst we’re here?”

“Why not? What’s the point of travelling just to do nothing?” 

Y/N had never travelled with him before, but he liked how things were going so far. The sun dug through his windbreaker, but he didn’t care. It was better than rainy New York days. 

“I feel that. Lead the way, oh smart one.”

He chuckled and did so. Y/N loved that about him. His knowledge only went to their coffee hangouts, but he wanted to imagine that his companion was someone who liked seeing new things. His mind wandered into daydreams of what he would be like in different situations until he walked into something. 

He rubbed his forehead, “What the fuck?”

“It’s a crosswalk?” Five sounded confused. 

With a look forward, he felt like the dumbest person ever. 

“Yeah. I knew that” his voice got quiet. 

An arm wrapped around his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, ‘dude’.” 

His companion smiled at him, ‘oh my god, he’s using my lingo.’

The duo made it to the restaurant and got a table outside. Cackles and spilled coffee were the highlights of their experience, but that didn’t matter. It built character in their evening. Even after that, the two spent hours there much to the dismay of the waiters there. They weren’t kicked out, but the looks they were getting said otherwise. The two didn’t want to overstay their welcome so they left for the ferry station.

The sun had set by this time and the outside lights were all keeping them alight. They got aboard the ferry waiting for them and set off for Alameda. No plans between them. Only the night breeze keeping them awake on the boat. Y/N’s phone kept their corner bright enough for two. He opened his camera and snapped a photo of them. Five smiled cheekily and put up a peace sign with the doggy filter over them both. Y/N liked this soft side of him even if it was the only side he’d seen. His point still stood. 

Five never really opened up about his past before they met. His fear was the most open he’d been about himself. Other than that, it was his favourite and least favourite things. Very superficial. None of that bothered him though. He knew that some people didn’t want to talk about things and that was respectable and ok. Five’s voice broke the silence. 

“I love this one. Send that to me.” 

“Yeah. Of course!” and he did.

He totally didn’t notice Five setting it as his wallpaper. In all honest, he was flattered. It meant that they were close just how he wanted it to be. These feelings are totally not homosexual in any capacity. The rest of the ferry ride was a dream because they’d fallen asleep afterwards. The two huddled under a jacket too small for them both, but they didn’t care. Their warmth was all that mattered. That is… until the rain started.

His sleep ended with the shivers from beside him and the drops on his face. He lifted up the edge of the jacket revealing Five curled up underneath on his lap. His hands were over his ears. The shivers were small and sparse, but y/n was always a light sleeper.

“Five? You’re trembling.”

“I’m fin-fine.” 

“Five…” his hand hovered over his shoulder. “May I-”

He didn’t even finish when he felt Five nodding. His hand rested on his shoulder, rubbing his thumb. A coping mechanism he used himself. Y/N didn’t know how to help him. Everyone responded differently when they were like this. He didn’t want to overstep, but he had to help somehow. The only way he could think of.

He began to hum, hum louder than the rain. Hum to block out all the noises. If he couldn’t hear them, then they didn’t exist. It felt like if he wasn’t thinking of it, then it had no power over him. If he didn’t give it power, it couldn’t control him. Maybe not now, but building that would help him if he was alone.

“You’re in control,” he whispered. “You’re here with me.”

He repeated again and again until he had placed his headphones over the other’s ears. Block it out, he thought. It’s not real. He hadn’t stopped running his thumb over his shoulder. A warmth covered his fingers and a smile built on Five’s face.

“What? Does that feel good?”

“Thank you for this.” 

“Of course, Chive.”

Five ignored it, “Thank you.”

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [x] [8-9] [10]

PART 7 – Crustacean

They've been awake for at least an hour now, staring at the ceiling. It's dark all over, breached by apertures on the steel portal door of their room but the slits of light only cut into a broken ceiling fan and Yang's fingernail next to Jaune's ear.

Penny's voice comes muffled through the thick ceiling. Ruby's high-pitched cheers like distant whispers next to the megaphone voice of their android friend. They're all on a boat house for the sea and it's clear the girls are having a blast trying to steer the thing.

"They're having fun," Jaune says. He means nothing by it. Just an observation. Pointless conversation through the sleepy haze of a rocking ship. Jaune would have gotten sick were he not on a stable bed. He has pills for the motion sickness but they won't last him the entire trip. Sleep is the only way he can ration them.

Yang shifts over his arm and raises her hand, letting the light catch her nail again. It glistens like a solitary star off a cosmic trail. She giggles because the haze has caught onto her too and she's half-awake as it is. "He he, we could have fun too, y'know?"

He seizes, sitting up. "Y-Yang…?"

Yang does the same, huddling into a ball, clutching the comforter like it might shield her. "I-I meant by joining them! I didn't… I mean, I don't think I meant it that way…" Most of her is certain she didn't mean it like that but halfway through speaking, she wanted to take it back. She thinks she's ready, prepared to not freak out at the idea of exposing herself and seeing all of him. Her every uncertainty is truth, as honest as her apprehension to let him touch her.

She can barely see his face but his features soften in the dark, clearer when he gets closer. And for a moment it scares her to think he's taking that initiative. Her chest thumps like earthly tremors, cracking against her skin as it splinters like desert ground. Lips just as dry.

But he doesn't get any closer. He crouches next to her, facing away, but one of his hands reaches out for hers to close the rest of the distance. Her hands twitch when the warmth of his rolls over the back of her palm and hovers over her knuckles.

His hand stops and, instead, takes her fingers between two of his and a thumb. It's a gentle and quiet contact. He doesn't want to scare her. "I know you're having second thoughts," he says slowly, deliberately. As if knowing. Just like Saphron. "But how about we agree to do this when we're both one-hundred percent on it? Like when we have no doubt that this is how we take things going forward."

"Yeah… I think I'd like that." She clutches his hand fully now. Even shuffling closer. A warm breath tickles the hairs on his extended arm. "Look, I want it clear that it isn't you I'm apprehensive about. It's everything that comes after."

She can feel the heat of his blush from his hands alone.

"Uh… Yang, I hope I haven't somehow gotten you thinking I was going to do anything wild."

"No, no," she laughs, "nothing like that." She squeezes his hand and shuffles till her arm is flush against his. "I… I want kids."

"Um!" He tenses but doesn't let go of her as a sign of resolve.

"I don't mean now! Or anytime soon, I swear!" She lets him take a breath and unwind his rigid bones. "Really jumpstarted his heart, didn't I?" she thinks. Another squeeze from her, asking for courage he pours out of his sweaty palm.

"I'm afraid," she says finally, "of what comes after. If I don't try to stopgap how quickly things are going, sooner or later I'll have a kid of my own and I'll stare them in the face and… I'm worried that I'll be afraid. That, somehow, Mom running away would make sense."

He stares at her, eyes wide. "You called her mom."

An uncomfortable shiver runs down her neck and scrapes against her ribs. She shudders as she buries her head between her curled-up knees. "It's not about her. At least, I don't think so. I've caught myself calling her mom in my head when I think about it. Like I'm hoping I can still call myself a mother."

"That's a lot of thinking ahead, Yang. Who knows how long it'll even be till then."

She shrugs with a laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. "I've always been wired that way. I got a full life to live but I had to spend a lot of time prepping Ruby's future. If I don't prepare for the inevitable, I'll waste time trying to figure it out when it actually arrives."

"It doesn't sound like you're waiting to know if you'll be ready. Only that you worry if you'll ever be ready at all."

She nods, a touch of shame welling in her chest. "Is that bad?"

"I think it's human."

"That just tells me I could screw up like everyone else…"

"I like to think it means we're afraid of the same things."

Yang pulls her head out of her knees and blinks at him. Their hands are sweating and her nerves are mirrored on him too. She can see it on his face but it almost doesn't make sense. "Why?" she asks. "You'll make a great dad, Jaune. Hell, you'd make a great mom too!" She almost doesn't notice the little smile on her cheeks.

"Could say the same to you," he says, smiling again but there's a quiver in his hands. It's uncomfortably weak. "But it doesn't really matter that we think the world of each other. We'll probably mess up anyway. I may not share your fear of becoming like your mom but I'm every bit as afraid of not turning up like mine. My parents are storied huntsmen who raised eight proper kids. My grandparents before them were hard won veterans who were their children's heroes. That's a lot of legacy to live up to. And…" He makes a series of faces. All of them uncertain.

Her hand slides up his arm and the other knits between his fingers. Their heads lean onto each other before he speaks.

"Sometimes it feels like everything I'll ever do will be dwarfed by them. Short of saving the world and raising a dozen huntsmen–" Yang resists visibly wincing at the thought of raising twelve kids "–I'll never live up to them. And even if I do? I'm still not sure how to stop my kids from sharing the same fears…" He laughs. Not bitterly. There's a genuine hearty sound puffing out of his chest. "I think I know why Dad wanted me to be a doctor."

"Hm… Sounds like he was afraid of the same thing we are," she muses.

"I think so, too."

The sliver of light through the door passes them and, for a moment, the light is gone. The warmth and sweat of their hands are the only tangible things in the dark. And they cling to each other, summoning courage as fears drip away like melting ice.

"Jaune?" she asks.

"Yeah?"

"We should talk to your parents. I think there's a lot of easy-to-reach wisdom we aren't taking advantage of here." He's silent for a long second and Yang nearly calls him out until she notices the sheen of his scroll. "What are you doing?"

His Cheshire grin is mortifying under the pale glow. "Calling my folks."

"No! Stop!" she screeches, scrambling on top of him like a wild monkey. "I'm not ready! My hair's a mess!"

He pulls his hand away. "C'mon! They'll love you!"

"Can it, Arc! Sweet talking won't stop me!"

They wrestle for a while and Yang is so focused on getting his scroll that she forgets what she taught Jaune. They've wrestled in the past for training and something he's very broadly taken from those lessons has been going on the offensive. Tucking away his scroll, he manages to slink around her and grapple her arms.

"What? Hey!"

Trapping the length of her arms above her with his arm, he reaches around her with the other to grab his scroll. He pulls it up. It goes to call and the preview camera puts them both in view (strangely, like two floating heads from the dark).

With enough struggling, Yang knows she can break out even at a disadvantageous position, but the call answers quickly and she freezes up. Her awkward smile is automatic. Her panicked heart is full-auto.

"Hey, Mom, Dad! This is Yang, my girlfrie–" His mouth hangs open when their eyes meet in what can only be described as abject terror.

They hadn't exactly agreed on a label.

There's click from the scroll. "…And saved!" Jaune's mom sings. "Aren't you two cute."

-0-

They don't get a lot of answers. Jaune's parents, Apolian and Helia (she insists on Aunt Hess), tell them that this is the kind of discussion you have over dinner. Yang is promptly invited to see them over the Summer.

They do end up sharing stories, and by the end of it Yang feels confident that she's left a good first impression. Yet, by the time they walk into the morning light and find an empty spot together at the front deck, their nerves worm their way back in but for different reasons this time.

"So… labels. Yay," Yang cheers weakly against the railing.

"Yeah," Jaune drawls. "Fifteen percent off. This side up. Expires yesterday. Labels!" he cheers sarcastically, awkwardly. "Totally love 'em."

It's very easily something they can agree to discuss another time but it doesn't feel right doing so. Like it's not so big a deal that they can't hold off but not small enough to ignore for too long. Besides, people are going to ask questions (not that they haven't already) and just agreeing on something would work for a few more miles.

"Y'know, it's funny," Yang says, "I was fully prepared to just be boyfriend and girlfriend when this all started. Now that I've got clarity, I'm starting to wonder if we're even pacing ourselves right as friends."

Jaune hums agreeably. "But maybe we've worried so much about the pace that we've forgotten if it even matters… I mean, so what if things are going too fast? What should matter is if we want it or not."

"Do you want it?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I guess I don't mind telling everyone we're dating. And exclusive. But what are we if not that by definition? What's the difference with that and being an item?"

She sighs, pivoting around to lean her back against the railing instead. "What if the label's pointless to begin with? It just sums up what we are for other people. Like you said, it should only really matter to us."

"Maybe that's just it. The label isn't important to us and so it's only for them. If all they're asking is to sum up what we are, then we should just pick a label that answers enough questions and any nuance we need we can keep to ourselves."

"Yeah, we don't have change to fit it, even. We'll just be the way we are."

But the uncomfortable question of what they even are lingers between them. Not a label, per se. Perhaps a name truly is pointless, but what does it mean to be what they are?

When their hands meet in the middle, there's an air of comfort, a touch of romance. A quiet laugh and a knowing smile. They balk at the smell of salty sea air, laugh at the antics of an excitable Penny, gossip at some friends huddled a little too close. It's all friendly, familiar. Uncomplicated.

They decide that quantifying it is either too hard or actually impossible. And a quiet ambivalence washes over them – stinging and uncertain – and figuring it out will take a lot of testing.

-0-

It was supposed to be a little solitary date but Sun knows a guy with a boat house and Pyrrha has a sponsorship with an outdoor grill you can take to the beach (the sponsor feels that a photoshoot on the deck of a ship is an inspired take). The fact that there's a small, unfamiliar crew onboard is a little concerning but they're largely invisible and stay out of the way. Though Sun and Pyrrha have made it a game to hide away from them.

Yang has started wearing a red wig to throw them off and, stood next to Jaune who is a muscular blonde, from behind he can pull off looking like Sun at a glance. Most of the crew is understanding and they have a few good laughs.

Yang muses that she might look good as a redhead and posits to Jaune that she might dye her hair down the line.

"And here I thought those locks were sacred."

"Yeah, I don't think they can stop being immaculate," she says as she twirls in front of a mirror, trying to get a good look of it down her back. "Red's sufficiently bright. Maybe…"

"Well, bright colors will match your eyes," Jaune says sat across from her in a half-zipped wetsuit, "but I don't see you having many options with hair that long. You gotta get a hairdresser to cover all that thickness. You're gonna mess up trying to do it yourself."

Yang chews the thought like she does her lip. "I guess I could just cut it."

Jaune blinks at her. "I'm not the most religious man but even that sounds blasphemous."

"Heh. I might've thought the same thing last year."

"What changed?"

She bundles her hair in her hands, draping it over her shoulder. "I inherited my hair from my mom, but it's something I took and made my own. I took pride in that, but nowadays that just feels… petty. I mean, I still take pride in taking care of it, but I've started to come around to the idea that I could just like however I look as long as that choice is my own. Even if I end up looking ridiculous for a semester."

He comes up behind her, eying himself in the mirror. "Okay, but only if you let me do the same."

"Dye your hair?"

"Yeah, to match yours. Maybe I'll even grow mine out. Always wanted to try a wolf-tail." He turns his head and bunches up a few of his locks. It's not enough for a full tail since much of the length is lost in his fist, but Yang can kind of see it working.

But red?

"I can't put you through that."

"But you won't be," he says matter-of-factly, "I'll be putting myself through that. So, if I choose to stand behind you by experimenting with my hair the same way, that'll be my choice."

She sighs and backs up into his chest. "Why do you keep cheating? You know I can't argue with that kind of logic. And you'll just end up looking ridiculous by the end."

"At least I'll look like the bigger fool."

"Jaune…"

"I'm used to it," he maintains evenly, sternly. "I'm glad people don't look down on me anymore but being with me means you have to live with the fact that I'm still every bit that little spaz who threw up on your boots. Which I'm glad you forgave me for, by the way. Real quick on that too."

"Heh, well, my temper's never been about my style. An unfortunate dork just gets pity, and even a mild jerk might just get a glare. It's mostly about my pride. I worked hard on my hair back in freshmen year and… I hated losing. I mean, god damn does Yatsu hit hard. I guarantee that I'll start seeing red again if I get a repeat of last year's Vytal."

"You're competing again this year?"

She gives him gigawatt grin. "JNPR didn't need to compete but you all did anyway. If Jaune Arc can stand on international television despite obvious odds and harbor an unnecessary need to feel like he's somehow a burden, what's Yang Xiao Long to do but follow his example and beat her own demons to death?"

His cheeks are a touch red and she gives him the small mercy of not pointing it out. "I guess I can't argue with that either," he says.

Yang pushes off him and raises one hand while pressing the other against her chest before she announces before him, "I swear mercy upon my hair, that you might see fit to show mercy on yours."

"Even if things go horribly wrong and I decide that the only way to one-up you is to grow a mullet?"

She snorts. "I will shave you bald in your sleep, and don't think for a second that I won't do that."

They're laughing and he rolls his eyes but he's certain she'll make good on if it comes to that. "C'mon, we've spent enough time not getting ready. They're probably already in the water."

She helps him with his zipper. "Blake's probably already caught one," she says. There's an excited tingle that runs through her spine. "Now I've got an itch. Wanna see if we can catch more than she can?"

"Both of us against her?"

"She used to dive for clams with her dad. No gear either. Two against one is only fair."

They still lose to her, and they're not even in second place. Sun has been diving for seafood since he was kid.

They manage over two dozen lobsters and a handful of crabs, and unanimously agree not to boil the poor things alive. Still, they mess up a few times cause no one actually knows how to cook lobster even with Penny's encyclopedic knowledge but they manage a lovely dinner eventually with a few failed attempts.

Neptune and Weiss disappear at some point only to be stumbled upon below deck. They'd been drinking. Everyone respects their privacy and don't ask why.

-0-

Nora interjects on a Tuesday team meeting that – now that it's public that Jaune and Yang are basically a couple – people both see it and don't see it.

Jaune is confused for long enough to just outright ask what she's talking about.

Sometimes people will catch them getting a little close in the halls (they're starting to notice the stares), but they're not always together and you wouldn't have noticed that something was up if you didn't already know. They sit next to each other all the time but are frequently talking to the rest of their teams (there was rumor that Jaune was secretly dating Ruby after they laughed out loud during class a few times). Witnesses spot them boarding bullheads to Vale around the weekends but are as frequently found shopping for groceries, ammo, inspecting ingots, and once even at a car dealership (and they're surprised how most of the things they do together could only be classified as dates if you squint hard enough and pretend they're doing anything else).

They're never caught holding hands. The one kiss was even on the cheek and some people still believe they were seeing things altogether. It almost feels like fiction or outlandish gossip. Not because it's them, but because no one saw it coming and people are still refusing to trust their eyes.

Yang thinks it's hilarious. Jaune thinks they need to clarify things before they get awkward. Yang was already propositioned after she lied about there being nothing between them. Lies are only going to complicate things.

So, in that moment they decide, "We're a couple."

Sure. Fine. Give them a label when they ask but they aren't changing anything else. They'd already agreed on it anyway. Still, the societal pressure to look the part just didn't vibe with them and they hope the label is the last thing they ever give into outside of themselves.

-0-

They find out two things on the last week before the semestral break, the one they'll mostly spend in Patch with Yang's parents.

One, that lobster needs to be preserved damp and freezing with salt water. Fresh water off the tap ruins their last reserve crustacean. Shame. Guess they'll have to plan another boat trip.

And two, that – at least according to the crusty boatman – lobsters don't stop growing. They get bigger and bigger until they've outgrown their own shells. So, they shed it and grow a new one. Then, eventually, they outgrow that shell, too, and start the process over and over again until we find them, crack them open, and feast on their delicious insides…

The boatman forgets his own metaphor in the reverie of polishing off the last of his meal, plucking his lips over the last delicate morsels.

He tells them all, then, that the price of growth is to constantly find that what was once familiar will inevitably feel alien. That everything about you and around you will change, and adaptation is not only what makes it survivable, but it also keeps you sane.

When they think he's done, he coughs, wheezes, then speaks again.

You should always look out for the in-between, he says with a serious look in his eye. Thing is, after shedding their shell, lobsters have to spend their meantime being vulnerable. Squishy, ugly little things, he emphasizes with gusto.

Transitions in your life will be like that, often terrifying and tumultuous, and the scary part is that your worries doesn't stop there. You have to be careful about who you become when you come out the other end. That it's not only hard to make the transition, that your choices in that change will determine who you are moving forward.

A lobster will come out wrong if something unexpected happens in the middle of molting. Might grow another claw or bulge out somewhere uncomfortably. But the boatman, rather optimistically, says a lobster has the option to cut off an offending part of them and regrow it. It'll take a while though. Years even, but correcting your character is never as easily solved with an apology or an act of will.

Because you'll never undo your mistakes. You can only make things right. And sometimes you can only do that little by little.

For a moment, Yang thinks of Raven.

-0-

It's when they're out by the pier to try an egg sandwich that Yang is thinking about lobsters and metaphors. "So, what happens after the apartment?" she asks. "After Beacon?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I haven't thought that far ahead." Except he has, but it's all substitutions. He used to think of a future with Terra, but now Yang has replaced all those naïve, boyish dreams with a series of blonde heads bouncing on a couch. Still, these are fragmentary thoughts, and he doesn't think Yang would like it if he tried for the civilian life. No, right now – and for the past week – he's been trying to see where that future is now with Yang instead. "We should pair off, by the way."

"Uh, haven't we already?"

"I mean when we go hunting. I know you're only supposed to pair off with your own team but I don't see JNPR and RWBY splitting up… ever. I think we should get a head start."

"Okay, future proofing. Sounds like your next report for Leadership." It is, and Yang helps him figure out his bullet points while they chew thoughtfully on their egg sandwiches (it's really eighty-percent meat and cheese but it's got an egg inside and on top so it gets the name).

They talk about the car they're looking for. Jaune's racetrack savvy sister, Sable, it still swearing up and down about the Highway Aries being an ideal match. Yang still insists on a bike.

When they're packing up and driving home, Yang talks about her "cousin" Vernal and her estranged bedmate Shay. Jaune adds that he has cousins he doesn't remember because seven sisters are enough, he doesn't need to add another eight. (Yang reels at the idea of so many blondes at a single family gathering and those are just the grandkids).

When they're home they talk about another trip out to sea and inevitably segway back into lobsters.

Sitting on the couch, she's thinking about her future. Jaune plops next to her and laughs about something Ruby sends him on his scroll.

Yang's ignoring her messages from Nora – she's staring at her scroll on the coffee table and it buzzes but she can't register what's happening – and suddenly she blurts, "Hey, I know this is a ways off and I probably shouldn't be something you talk about it at eighteen in the middle of academy training but… if we get a girl, can we name her Summer?" There's no embarrassment blooming off her cheeks. Her face is completely neutral, and her eyes are searching for a response in his wide, vacant stare.

His typing hasn't stopped, only slowed. "…"

"Jaune?"

He sighs, and it's long and beaten like he's preparing himself for self-destruction. "Only if we agree to name our son…" he swallows uncomfortably. "…uh, Qrow?"

She's aghast, mouth opening and closing. "Did… did you lose a bet or something?"

He kisses her – his way of saying yes – but it's not cute this time. It's sad and piteous and his eyes scream an apology his lungs are strangling him not to say for fear of combusting in what is already volcanic embarrassment.

"Win the bet," she says sternly.

"What? But I already lost!"

"Then double or nothing! Short of him kicking the ever living fuck out of the bucket, I am not naming my son after my uncle." After his furious nodding, she summons a tiny strength in her lungs to speak, but not enough to look him in the eye. "So, you, uh, didn't answer my question."

The clatter of his flask on the coffee table almost scares her, but she can see that he isn't drinking at the thought of Terra. This time it's just about Qrow. It makes her feel less afraid. When he answers, there is no burden in his tone caused he'd downed his nerves in quarter-parts whiskey. "I'll agree to Summer if you let me name our next daughter Agrippa."

"Oh? Why?"

"Was set on it when I was kid. This was before Pyrrha, before Terra, even. I just remember crying at home during a storm. My bedroom door was stuck cause of a leak – y'know, cause water inflates wood – and no one could hear me call out to them under all the rain drumming the roof. I was soaking wet cause the leak got onto my sheets. Stupid thing was, I wasn't even afraid of getting sick or if my small boy body would get hypothermia. I just had a sleepover at a friend's place the morning after and I didn't want to miss it. Then, out of nowhere and probably from a fevered haze, I see a guardian angel or – as my sisters called it – an imaginary friend."

He pauses to look at her, to check if she thinks he's crazy. She doesn't. Yang doesn't judge. She listens.

"It was a girl just a head taller than mine," he continues. "The dark made her hair look brown or a dull red, so I can't recall that for sure but I remember her eyes. They were blue, like mine, only brighter. She said her name was Gri, short for Agrippa. She saw that I was cold and she knelt to my level and hugged me. Her body felt warm, but too warm like the way your hands might after holding freshly brewed coffee. I didn't notice I was dry until I was laid in an equally dry bed and already falling asleep."

She doesn't ask if he thought it a dream. "You weren't afraid?" she asks instead.

He shakes his head. "I just assumed she was someone from the neighborhood I neglected to meet. My hometown, Clove, is a community of retired huntsmen surrounded by their farmlands, and everyone outside of it knew not to mess with huntsman families. If anything, we kept giving passersby the spooks. Cause of that, I was taught to be friendly, not wary of strangers."

"Hm," she sounds thoughtfully. "That explains a few things, actually."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, just one thing. Ruby told me how you two met. You told her that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet. Thought you might've even been a little sketchy until I saw you myself. Seemed like the kind of guy who'd meet her in the middle. Vomit and all."

"Heh, I'm glad we hit it off. Ruby's a good friend."

"She makes a better sister," she says, winking.

"I suppose I'll find that out eventually, huh?" He gives her a suggestive grin.

"Eh?"

His grin drops. "Y'know, cause she'll be my sister-in-law if we…" He rolls his hands.

"Uh… Oh. Oh! You were flirting! Damn it, I missed my chance!'

He laughs because she seems genuinely upset. She decides that pouting is for suckers and proceeds to bite his neck. This time he bites back.

-0-

They wake up with the hickeys still on their necks and they opt to leave it there for all to see. The reactions from their peers at Beacon are interesting, and they take it as sufficient proof enough for everyone that they're an item. No one bothers asking about them after that.

When the week comes to an end, Pyrrha promises that they can pay her back for covering for the car's down payment and that – by the time they get back from Patch – that it'll be in the apartment's designated parking spot. Only slightly used cause, of course, she's going to cruise in it with Sun when he flies back to the city tomorrow.

They're surprised when Jaune and not Yang is the one that makes them vow to clean the stains. Yang is very proud of him.

On the pier, they hug their friends goodbye and Ruby promises to catch up once she's done meeting someone important from Mistral as per the headmaster's instruction. She says she can't tell them why she's nervous. They don't pry and tell her they'll listen when she's ready.

Jaune, also, promises not to look at her baby pictures (until she's there, he doesn't say).

Once they're in transit on the ferry, he tries to straighten out a crease in Yang's leather jacket. The shard of fire dust in a cup of water is his attempt to steam it straight. He spends the time talking about his mom's home remedies and his dad's jury rigging. She answers with talk of Summer's garden that her dad and uncle tend to. He scoffs at the idea of Qrow gardening but admits that it makes sense.

With Jaune busying himself, Yang wonders if things will stay this way. If all they have to worry about is down payments, creases, spoiled lobsters, and baby names. That all the big problems, like her mother's abandonment and his actual, biological son, might rear themselves instead and come back to haunt them in devastating ways. But just before any doubt sinks in, he holds her hand from his perch on the floor. He kisses her knee and eyes her from over her lap.

"Whatever it is," he says, squinting. Thinking of what else to add but settles with, "It doesn't matter whatever it is…"

She is prepared to eat up anything he offers. That he'll be there for her, that they'll work it out somehow, that he'll banish any ill thought or doubt, but he says none of those things. Instead, he leans up and kisses her – tender and brief – on the lips.

She blinks. "What are you saying yes to this time?" She's so bewildered that she doesn't even know why she asks such a thing.

"You," he answers anyway. "All of you. I can't fix everything and I can't right every wrong, but I'll take you as you are, or whatever you'll become. Even if you're in pieces. Even if you stop loving me. I don't have be your boyfriend to be with you every step of the way."

It's clear, then, that Jaune's been dealing with doubts of his own. Yang swallows as things bubble to the surface before she blinks a few times and…

"I love you," she says, and she realizes that it's the first time she has said it.

-0-

Down the line, she remembers this moment most vividly of her trip to Patch that one Autumn afternoon. The uncomfortable smell of sea water and steam off a heated cup, the rock of the ferry that forces Jaune to swallow a pill and drops a dozen more just to stop from hurling, and the way her shorts nearly catch fire from the dust shard spilling onto her lap.

Cause then he's stable and she's got a change of clothes (the small fire charred the color in an uncomfortable spot), and they try for the overpriced food court a floor above to mask the smell of all the water in almost lousy, reheated pizza.

The boatman told them that change is tumultuous, and that screwing up in the middle of growing their new shell is almost inevitable. Maybe they won't fit quite so well in their new shell, and maybe they'll take a few cuts and scrapes before they settle comfortably in their own skin, and maybe an old wound might not quite go away and leave them vulnerable there forever…

…but even if so, they decide – after a toast with pizza that tastes like the box it came in – that they'll always have these beautiful little imperfections, and that they can be ugly, squishy lobsters together.

[sammys-carhartt-jacket]

Preword: OK???? So i think I did a thing. This started off as me doing a little rant post but somehow now it’s a fanfictio? oops. anyways this is going to be a multichapter fic (I’ve never been able to follow through on this before, so we’ll see how this goes.

also should I make an ao3 account and post there?

——————— So anyways, just thinking once again about how much Sam must have stuck out at like literally any school he went to.

I mean, maybe not so blatantly, but the few that he gets assigned to sit next to in class or some kids that feel like making a friend in him, they get to know him beyond the reserved, smart, friendly but guarded kid they see at school.

In high school, the differences become more prominent.

Sam is invited to an end of school rager his freshman year. He’s new to this type of shit, but when it comes time for the drinking games, he decides to join in.

Sam downs 9 shots straight in a row standing one foot on the barstool the host brought out.

The previous record was 5.

When he’s hopped off and done, impaired only by a slight stumble, the classmates sober enough to process it are looking on in disbelief, a bit of awe mixed in- but as always, he can see if in their eyes.

god, this kid is some kind of freak.

of course, they don’t realize that he’s been drinking on a regular basis since he was eleven.

———————

Four months later in a different town, this time the trio tracking down a potential witch coven, Sam goes to get a drink during lunch period, a group of other sophomores loitering by the water fountains and in a world of their own. Sam had approached their spot to refill his water bottle, and glanced down into the lap of one of the guys’ lap (Cameron, he later found out). He was reading a book on montana history, and happened to be flipped to a page on the beartooth highway. Sam had been there once when he was about eight or so, when dad had taken him and dean scoping out the area for remains of a woman who had slipped off of the edge after a truck had edged her off, and remained to kill similar drivers.

“Hey,” Sam spoke to the guy, and he looked up expectantly at him.

“Uh,” Sam crouched down next to him, hoping this wouldn’t be awkward. “Y’know, what they don’t tell you is that there’s a small grouping of forts in the forest around mile 36.”

Sam should know. He built them.

“It’s pretty cool,” he said, giving an awkward grin. And it was cool. Sam had had a lot of downtime on that hunt, and hey, a kid had to occupy himself somehow.

He’d built them out of spare sticks he found, bark, some old rusted sheets of metal from the past crashes (even though John had told him not to go fucking around back there, lest Sophie-the-spirit decided to make a reappearance), and whatever spare tarp he could grab from bubmbling passerby campers.

They were wobbly and barren, teetering on its weak stick side supports, but for a week, it was Sam’s escape, where he could pretend that he was a normal kid in a normal neighborhood, in a clubhouse that his dad had made for him and his brother to spend time on while their dad was away at his normal, 9 to 5 job. Not a shitty stack of crap he used to escape his dad who was constantly in a foul mood, in the middle of god-knows-fucking-where, Montana.

Meanwhile the guy just looked up, a blink of intrigue in his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Sam gave another half-smile.

He stood up from the ground, his other girl friend with the dark brown bob and sideswept bangs giving a small wave from the grimy tiled floor.

“I’m Joline,” she greeted, extending a hand.

Sam shook it.

She nudged the girl next to her, who wore athletic shorts, a hoodie, and her thick black hair in a messy bun.

“This is Maria,” bun girl gave a small nod, which said hey, I don’t know you just yet, but I think we’ve got something to work with here.

“I’m Cameron,” floor guy supplied before Joline could beat him to it.

“You new around here? I don’t recall seeing you before.” Cameron asked, brows furrowed and eyes squinted a bit as if that would unlock any memory of meeting Sam before in his brain.

“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “My dad moves us around a lot. We just got here Saturday.”

“Oh, I guess you’ve seen a lot of different places then.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said, voice guarded.

Joline ignored the first half of what he said.

“Saturday? Oh jeez, I bet you barley know anything about Burkesville-,”

She was wrong. Researching witches meant a lot of traveling around and interviewing, and gossip, grits, and dirty laundry was often included in that deal.

“-we totally have to take you out and show you around then. Tuesday night work?”

Maria nudged Joline. “I’ve got volleyball practice tomorrow, remember?”

“Oh,” Joline scrunched up her nose. “Damn volleyball. Wednesday then?”

Sam went for the awkward nod and afterthought smile combo. “Sure. Uh, see you guys, I’ve got to get to class.”

Cameron gave a short nod. “See you dude.”

With that, Sam walked to Chemistry.

Two periods later he has Spanish with Maria and she slips him a note telling him to meet at the 7/11 on Marsh street at 6:00.

He pockets the note for later.

————————

Joline scratches her wrist impatiently, shiny green watch band doing nothing helpful except to itch the hell out of her. She needs a new one.

She’s standing underneath the neon 7/11 sign, Cameron beside her, watching the cars go by.

It’s about seven more minutes before Maria finally makes it to the parking lot to sit and wait for the last member of their small little party.

Maria is standing, arms crossed, looking particularly concerned. It was then 6:12, and Sam was still a no-show.

“Listen.” Maria bites her lip and faces towards the two. “My mama is cooking tamales tonight, so if he doesn’t show soon, I think I’ll just go home and eat there. I’m getting tired of waiting and hungry.”

Joline frowns, but nods her head in understanding nonetheless. Prospects aren’t looking great right now. Not even a minute later though, there’s the obnoxious growl of a gas-guzzler car, and Cameron perks his head up to try and catch a glimpse down the road. He lets out an appreciative whistle as he makes out that it’s a Chevy impala, then a soft ‘holy shit’ as the car turns into their parking lot.

“Dude!” He exclaims at Sam as he pops the passenger side door and stands up. “You have a fucking 1967 Chevy Impala and you didn’t tell me?”

Fucking car nerd.

Inside the sleek black vintage, a man, the driver, holds his hand out for a fist bump that

“Not Sammy,” he says, letting out a playboy smirk. “Yours truly, Dean Winchester.”

He’s cocky enough to even wink.

Sam just rolls his eyes in exasperation as he walks around the car and towards Maria and Joline. He mumbles a hey, and apologizes for his tardiness.

“He’s 20 now, but me, my dad, and him are still living out of each other’s pockets. It’s impossible for him to be on time”

Joline smiled politely, but something about what Sam had said made her take a moment and process. The lack of a mother, the nomad lifestyle- it was just a life so far from what she led, she had a hard time wrapping her head about what that would be like.

———————

thanks for sticking around I geuss! This is actually the second spn fanfic I’ve wrote (I guess I can post the other here as well!)

chapter two sometime next week maybe

[oooooocheshirecuntoooooo]

In the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere ..... Oh the adventures we had with a hooker. All. Night. Long. 😂

It involves me, my husband, our 18 & 3 year old daughters, a cop and the hooker ... oh and a store clerk and her son. And for real. All night from like 12:30am to 7 am. And now I am home, but without the van and three of the kids didn’t make it home with us.

The following story is absolutely, 100% true. Although it’s not the kind of exciting you’re used to hearing from me, it’s still pretty bizarre. 😂

Just to give a little back story to help paint a clear picture .... So, we always go to my in laws for Christmas but we usually only stay maybe 3-6 days or so depending on how things fall together. This year we decided to stay through New Years because of some drama back at our home. My mother lives on our property and is mentally ill, and we’re pretty sure dementia is setting in. She’s never been an easy person to be around and we have always fought constantly but I have tried to take care of her anyway because she’s the only mom I’ve got, ya know? The last couple years though she’s gotten a lot more aggressive. In July she assaulted her doctor over the mask requirement and even had to go to court over it. Then in august she assaulted me, tried to choke me to death in my own home and in front of my kids. Of course I over powered her and forcefully pushed her out of my house, so yes she sustained bruises and such from that but that’s the extent of it. (She told all of Facebook in a public post that I beat her up every day and that kind of thing. She posts almost every day that she’s being abused, etc. Shes called the police at least 4times in three months. She tried to accuse me of elder abuse and even said I neglect and abuse my kids. Four times they have come out and investigated and not only said they see no signs of child or elder abuse, or anything to backup her claims. They talked to the kids and quickly agreed they were all fine too.

So fast forward to Christmas Eve. We were trying to load up the van to leave for our trip. We couldn’t hardly get it done because she was hounding us so much. When we were done I sent the kids to the car while hubby and I grabbed the last few bags. I blinked and she was charging toward the kids and yelling things at them like “you’re going to be a whore like your mom when you grow up. You wanna suck dick for a living?” And “I hope you die slowly and are alone and afraid for hours before you die.” The oldest child there that day was 12. And no, I’ve never worked in prostitution before. She began to charge toward me when I yelled at her to get away from the kids. Hubby told her to go back in her house and she wouldn’t. Kept coming toward us. So he pulled out his pistol, didn’t cock it or anything, and said again to go back in her house. So she called the police again .... 🙄

So we stayed longer trying to talk to the family lawyer and get a game plan. We’re following through with pressing assault charges so I can get a restraining order, and we’re filing for eviction. So we got all packed and ready to go and noticed liquid under the van. The power steering pump went out and the line busted all over everything. So that set us back another couple of days but we got the line and the pump replaced and tested everything and it looked good. It was late but we decided to set out anyway. We knew we’d get in late but the advantage to that was my crazy mother would be asleep and we could at least get in and unload the van in peace.

About 12:30 the battery light came on and we weren’t near ANYTHING. Somehow we made it another 20 miles or so until we got to a small town we’ve never stopped in before. We stopped at a gas station and barely got in the lot when it died. Hubby tinkered with some things and it looks like the alternator. Apparently some power steering fluid got in it when it busted but we couldn’t see that at the time, including the mechanic neighbor friend helping with it.

So we’re an hour and a half from home and totally stranded in the middle of the night with, thankfully, only two of our kids - the 18 & 3 year old. We make the calls for roadside assistance and I begin calling everyone I know that might can come help us. It’s freezing and none of us packed coats because it’s not usually this cold down here this early in winter. Hubby was wearing shorts even. So we take turns going in the store and sitting in the van with our things - there’s a large fully loaded cargo bag on the roof and a bike rack with two bikes on the back. Figured if we left it alone for a long time those things at least would disappear, essentially given the atmosphere of the place.

In all the moving around and the cashier asking questions and getting to know us and the situation we were in, this big eyed, buck toothed, scraggly little older, black lady who looked like she hasn’t bathed in years starts talking to hubby about what’s wrong with the van. He goes back to tinker with it often hoping he’s wrong about the alternator or that he missed a loose connection - anything that might help us get out of here l, if not home. I am watching cars like a hawk because you wouldn’t believe how many would pull in, loop the parking lot while staring at us and leave again. It started feeling like sharks circling and a feeding frenzy building up. So I’m on edge and I make sure the pistol is within reach at all times. So this little trashy lady keeps talking to him about the mechanics and trying to troubleshoot it. Lemme pain a more accurate picture: this spun out little crack whore was chasing the dragon, looking for it inside the oil reserve, the transmission fluid ..... she keeps pulling out the dipsticks, shaking them like a Polaroid picture and slinging fluids everywhere and then says “I think it’s your starter.”

No doubt she’s trying to hustle some cash and once even asked for some gas money when’s we see the car she rode in pull away and leave her there. She said it was her brother. After awhile, hubby has had enough. He’s usually pretty patient with people who are too fucked up to reach reality but this isn’t the time for all that. Not only is she a hindrance, she keeps snatching his tools and once even his phone out of his hands. I was in the car and I heard him yell “carry your ass already!” If he’s talking to even an annoying stranger like that, I know shit is hitting the fan. Me? I’m Irish. I would’ve done popped off at her which is why I was avoiding her completely. So I got out and joined him and started yelling at her to fuck off. She will take a few steps away and come back but she does finally go all the way back in the store, both of us cussing her the whole way. I blink and she back in his face again. She keeps saying random shit like “anything you can do I can do better” and “I helped you and you just turn me away. That’s not what the Bible says” and “God got me. I don’t need you. I pray for you”

I’m beyond pissed. I’m cold —- and I loath being cold — and I’m tired, it’s now like 2:30 or 3, I’m feeling vulnerable just by being broke down and especially with the toddler who can’t do anything to protect herself or understand what’s going on and who is extremely sensitive to any type of anger or tension (she cries hysterically when her siblings tickle fight or pillow fight and are laughing) and with all I’ve been dealing with with my mom lately I just have no give a shit left in me. So I jump out and say loudly “should I get the gun for you?” He said “it’s starting to look like it.” And I handed it to him and he put it in his pocket - more just wanting to communicate and it wanting to draw on her because that could invite charges for him potentially and we already have enough legal drama waiting at home. She slowly starts walking backward and keeps running her mouth. I forget what she said but she flipped my bitch switch again and I found myself screaming “Don’t make me cut a bitch!”

She said “what did you say?” And I pulled out my pretty pink and Pearl, large and extremely sharp pocket knife and extended the blade, “I said if you don’t carry your ass I WILL cut a bitch!” She nodded that smug kind of nod and kept going, “aaaiiignt”

The car that brought her there and left came back. She got in it and it left, stopped about 20 feet from the parking lot and she appeared to be forcefully shoved out from the way she rolled in the grass. But she goes walking the other direction so we figured she was gone. Meanwhile though in that amount of time I already dialed 911. The operator connected me to the local station and I spoke to dispatch. I kid you not, less than 60 seconds later an officer was there. We later learned he parks in a dark spot across the street of this divided highway. He even saw some of the commotion but couldn’t tell from the angle that it was heated. He tells us all about her, how she’s the local “hooker” / crack whore, along with her sister and mother. When I said we could tell she was drunk or inebriated or something he said, “more like high as a kite in with a jet pack!” I have seen a lot of people high in my years but I’ve never seen anyone act like she was so I asked, “On what?” He just shrugged “likely a combination of things. She’s a non discernment, equal opportunity junkie.”

Would you believe she showed up again while he’s talking to us? She tried to act like they were friends “hey! I know you. You’re married to my kin ...” He kinda yells at her and smirks “you a damn lie and you know it. I’m not even married.” Tim and I both glanced at his hands, his wedding band plainly visible. I got back in the van because my teeth are chattering so bad I can’t speak anyway. He puts her in the back of his car and talks to my husband again. He tells him he’s use to her and is going to take her to a relatives house where she goes when she needs to sleep it off for a day or two. He leaves and about 20 minutes later he’s back. Apparently he almost ran out of gas and he wanted to check in on us again. The jokes flew about how awkward that would look if he ran out of gas and was on the side of the road with the town hooker and all. He was a really nice guy and stayed with us most of the rest of the night. He said he got off at 7 and if we still didn’t have any help to give him a call, giving us his cell number.

So, at the same time I’m trying to get something done about the tow truck that needs to come get the van and find someone to come get us. The first wrecker — BROKE DOWN ON THE WAY TO PICK US UP! I was starting to feel cursed! The second wasn’t informed this would be a “long haul” tow and he only does local. Third times the charm right? Apparently so this time. He was a nice guy as well and took extra steps to keep the bikes and things secure on the trip.

We even had talked to hubby’s parents when we very first broke down. They were asleep but I was able to text my kids that stayed behind to spend another day or two with them, and they were coming up anyway to do some work on the property up here and file the eviction. So the boy, who will be 11 tomorrow, and the 12yo girl woke them up and told them we broke down. Apparently the 8 year old had already gone to sleep. His parents got up and talked to us and they were like, we’ll work on it and let me know what you find out. What the insurance company will do. So when the tow truck showed up, at 4:30, we asked if one of them could come get us because all the insurance company said was “MAYBE a supervisor could make an allowance for a Lyft or something like that but it didn’t seem a highly probable option. I realize we were 3 hours from his parents but they got up and stayed up from the first time we called and father in law could’ve gotten us and most of our stuff in the van and gotten us home, and him back to his house, before lunch and then slept or done whatever work he felt was more important than our safety. I’m kinda ticked about that. So we get what things we can’t live without immediately and head into the store to wait for a solution to arise, or friends to wake up! I was the last one going in and I was shivering so bad I dropped the things in my hands. I bent down to pick them up when two large shoes stepped in to my view, directly in front of me.

I stand up and then continue looking up to find the eyes looking back at me - a huge ‘cornfed’ red neck man who almost is convincing at appearing to be tough as nails, but I see the gentle kindness in him immediately. However, when he named the itty bitty, no red light havin’ isolated little farm town we live in I was flabbergasted. I actually stuttered and just made noise instead of words when I tried to respond. He even chuckled and playfully’ mocked’ me but was even kind about it. It was more like he got a kick out of how taken off guard I was. He said “Do y’all need a ride to (hometown)?” in that extremely slow, drawn out way the redneck Southerns do. In a minute I nodded and said “How do you know that?” I continued walking in the store as I spoke and of course he followed and opened the door for me. Hubby had run back and flagged down the tow truck before it left, remembering the car seat was left in it and that would be essential to getting us home. He had already talked to the man but j didn’t know that. In fact, in all the in and out that night hubby and my older daughter had told the cashier bits and pieces of the situation and it hit a point where she realized help wasn’t coming very fast and didn’t want to see any more trouble fall on us like with the oh so classy hooker we had already met. So she called her son, knowing this was the kind of thing he was always looking to do. He kept telling us that he just really liked to drive and it was no big deal and that he had time to get us there and back home before work even. After debating over it for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes hubby and I decided it was probably the smartest option. He usually has a pretty keen sense of a persons character pretty quickly and so does my 18 year old - although it still needs to be fine tuned a bit but that will come with time, maturity, and unfortunately, heartbreak. We felt like we had a read on the kind, older lady cashier too and she even said “It’s ok. He’s my son. He’s not gonna hurt you or anybody that doesn’t try to hurt him first.”, laughing the last few words out and the glances between them revealing some inside joke / event. So we went ahead and got in his little car - which was more like a jumbo Geo Tracker and I honestly wondered how he ever fit inside. It wasn’t the best looking thing, kinda shabby and needing a lot of TLC, but for us it may as well have been luxury. It was a diamond in the rough, symbolic of the man who offered to drive us an hour and a half to get us home, and then back, before he went to work that day. By the time we got him we knew his life story - 33 and already a survivor of the heart attack they call ‘the widow maker’. We instantly fell in and we’re good friends. By the time we got home - at 7am - we hated to see him go. Of course we had a little Christmas gift cash on us and gave him a little something for his trouble, especially since he wouldn’t come in and let me make him something for breakfast. As I hugged him bye I told him “I will forever call you ‘My Angel Michael’. He said, “Well thank you ma’am. It was my pleasure.” and with that, he drove away.

[fletchphoenix]

You And I Have Good Chemistry

Hiya gamers - chapter three has arisen. As always, I love y’all and thank you so much for your supportive messages yesterday, it meant a lot. Anyway, enough of me rambling. Onwards with the chapter.

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

  “You came back-” Varian said with a tearful smile, cuts littering his face as he sat on the hard oak floor of the library. The very floor Hugo was sprinting across to slide against and pull the younger boy into his arms. He didn’t want to let go of the boy in front of him, not now, not ever. He muttered apologies - for what, he didn’t know - he just knew he’d hurt the raven haired boy he was currently holding in an embrace that was being returned just as passionately.

  “Of course I did, Varian. I’m not..gonna leave you here.” he confessed, his hands fixing Varian’s teal waistcoat, the other gently pushing his hands down to stop him. Loving eyes met his, the crack in his glasses slightly obscuring his vision. That didn’t matter though - at least the younger boy was safe. 

  He wasn’t sure who’d started it, but sure enough they were both leaning in, extremely close. “Hugo…” Varian’s voice was barely a whisper as his hand moved to rest upon the blonde’s cheek. Only a little more-

  “HUGO!” Donella yelled as she opened the door, startling the emerald eyed boy, before he groaned in annoyance and pulled his sheets over his head as Donella opened his curtains, letting in the sunlight which broke him from his VERY riveting dream about an Eternal Library. His brain neglected to remind him of the fact him and Varian were extremely close and how his rude awakening had interrupted a very intimate moment between the two - probably for the best. 

  “Geez, Don. I was getting up.” He muttered as he pulled the covers back to grab his glasses, pushing them up his nose before checking his alarm clock. One glance. Two glances. “It’s 7:15am. I’m not even late. Why are you waking me up?” he moaned and laid back, his head finding comfort in the pillows and his eyes watching the grey haired woman roll her eyes and fold her arms in annoyance, though an exasperated smile on her features said otherwise. 

  “Well, you need to start getting up earlier.” she stated, heading towards the bed. “Besides, your phone alarm has been going off since half six and I’m sick of hearing that hellish ringtone of yours.” Donella used a cold hand to push back his fringe and place a gentle, motherly kiss to his forehead before ruffling his hair gently and heading towards the doorway. The slight click of the heels on her boots created a comforting tempo, syncopated with the ticking of the clock on his wall. “Get ready, okay Hugo?” 

  “Yeah, alright mom. Oh! My study partner is coming over tonight by the way. His name’s Varian. He’s new.” he explained, his voice crescendoing into a shout as his mother descended the stairs. Once he was sure she’d heard him, he began getting dressed, selecting his moss green hoodie, jeans and some random shirt to go with it. Not as if it mattered anyway - he didn’t plan on taking off the hoodie today. After all, the only time he’d take it off was for chemistry, and that was second period. Hugo pulled on his clothes, strolling to the mirror placed on his desk and fixing his hair and glasses.

  The start of the day was a breeze - Donella had dropped him off at the entrance and as he walked down the hall, he could hear the usual gossip. Something about a kid called Leon getting suspended for homophobic slurs against Mr Crick’s kid - oh well, at least it wasn’t him, he noted as he pushed open the door to Room 106, Mrs Crick’s room. “Morning Hugo,” Elora called, not even having to look up from her book to know it was him, “Take your seat, you’re late, as usual.” 

  “Sorry Miss, can’t say it won’t happen again though!” he called as he took his seat before Isla, who was literally bouncing up and down in excitement. His eyes trailed up and down her body in silence, his right eyebrow slowly rising. Wow. She looked happy to say the bare minimum. Hell, she was even wearing her rainbow socks - ones she’d specifically told Hugo she was wearing if she was feeling especially happy. “Uh..hey there, Isla. Are you okay?-”

  “Yes! I asked Nuru out yesterday and she said yes! I honestly can’t believe it!” she giggled in her sing-song voice, each word sounding like a melody to an undiscovered song. A grin moved onto his face. So Nuru and one of his best friend’s were dating, huh? What an interesting revelation, he’d thought as he leaned forward against his desk, propping his head up with his hand. He just knew he could use this for blackmail against Nuru...or some form of teasing. Well, he was gonna have fun. 

  “That's interesting, Isla..tell me more..”

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

  “He did what?!” Nuru almost yelled, sitting bolt upright in her seat as Varian leant over to shush her. She couldn’t believe it. Hugo motherfucking Atkinson was simping over Varian Ruddiger? This was..a revelation! A hypothesis she just had to explore! The signs were obvious! Staring as Varian while he was talking, actually cuddling him after sharing their deepest traumas..it was just so unlike Hugo that she almost declared that Varian was faking it!

  “Please don’t yell.” Varian begged, sparing a glance over to Zander. The boy was clearly spooked, flinching away from the odd pair in his chair with a black eye on full display to them. Nodding gratefully, the other shuffled back into his prior position as Varian followed suit and sat back down. “But yeah, he was acting really weird and just..hugged me on my bed. It was..kinda nice if I’m being honest.” A slight flush dusted his cheeks, but it disappeared as soon as it came. No. No no. Hugo was his rival. His enemy. None of that.

  “Alright, but it’s almost unheard of that Hugo of all people would act like that. And I’ve known him for years.” she explained, her gaze fixing on Varian, “Trust me Varian, he’s up to something, I can just tell it. He isn’t the ‘good guy’ he makes himself out to be. I would know, okay?” her hand moved to rest on his shoulder, covering the small sun insignia of Eugene’s old Corona High hoodie that he TOTALLY didn’t steal from him. Silently, he nodded in agreement before the bell rang and the hallways flooded with people. “Well then, shall we?” She asked, her arm outstretched. Varian promptly took it and let her guide him through the sea of people in the corridors. 

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

  First period went way too fast, Varian finding himself standing outside the chemistry labs alone before pushing open the door and entering. Greeting him was Hugo, already standing at their desk and giving him a smug grin and wave as he made his way over. Ah. Back to square one then. “Hey there, hairstripe. It's good to see my favourite nerd after such a long, strenuous day.” Hugo lamented as he threw his arm around the other boy, the steel of his arm feeling like a molten iron poker due to the relentless August heat. 

  “It's only been one lesson.” Varian complained, pushing Hugo’s arm off him (much to the other’s dismay, as evident from the displeased grunt), and pulling on the ivory lab coat along with his own goggles he’d fished out of his bag. They were the last thing he had of his mother’s belongings - apparently she was a legend in the scientific field, making advanced progress for it before her sudden death. He would’ve killed to have been able to meet her. 

  “I know, but one lesson is too much without my beloved hairstripe!” the other whined as Varian’s face took on a frown. Did he always have to be so dramatic? What had happened to the soft, vulnerable man he’d seen yesterday? Still, he sat down and began to listen to Mr Crick as he explained the experiment. It was simple enough - make a compound of your choice - right?

  Well, he was obviously wrong considering who his partner was.

  He thought they’d been fine, Hugo taking the lead and showing Varian what to do. It almost felt like the sweet boy he met yesterday was back, until the compound blew up in his face. His hair scruffed up as Hugo laughed, Varian rapidly moving his hands to fix the absolute rats nest that was his hair as his partner’s cackles sounded in the background. He’d ignored Hugo after that, a frown covering his features as he pushed the boy away and slumped in his chair, pouting and sulking at the embarrassment he’d been put through. 

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

  Before he knew it, he was beside the blonde haired boy again and walking through town. He let Hugo ramble about something or the other, the blonde’s nimble fingers threading through his own locks as he ranted about some girl he liked. Varian didn’t pay attention, somehow a feeling of disappointment and something akin to jealousy bubbled in his stomach. He didn’t understand why - he hated the boy with his whole heart, so why was he jealous over some girl Hugo was frustrated about? He should be laughing because he was suffering so much, so why wasn’t he? He pushed that thought out of his head as fast as he could, his eyes fixating on the floor in silence.

  “You had your first kiss yet, hairstripe?” Hugo asked, it was an innocent question, but it caught Varian off guard. He didn’t want to admit to Hugo he’d never been kissed, all that would lead to would be relentless bullying about how he was destined to be ‘alone forever’ or how he just seemed to repel every girl in a two mile radius somehow. He pondered his answer for a minute, not even realising he’d stopped in his tracks. “You okay?” the blonde questioned.

  “Hm? Oh, i’m fine. And uh. Yeah, I’ve totally been kissed. By many, uh, many females.” he stuttered. Curse him for being so awkward. Hugo wasn’t going to believe him at all with a stutter like that. He knew he was a bad liar - but geez, this was REALLY depressing wasn’t it. It seemed Hugo thought the same, a look of suspicion taking over his face. “I swear I have!” he persisted as he jogged to catch up with the taller boy.

  “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

  “Yeah, but your face looked weird so I thought I had to clarify.”   “Your face always looks weird, but I don’t always clarify everything for you.” Hugo quipped, Varian gasping in offence and punching his bicep. Hugo let out a loud laugh before taking Varian’s wrist and guiding him along the street towards a small house. “Here it is. It really isn’t much, me and my ma aren’t exactly the most lucky people in the world.” Hugo added as he unlocked the door and pulled Varian up the stairs and along the hall to his room. “And this is where the magic happens.” He chirped, wiggling his eyebrows in a seductive manner, to which Varian responded with yet another punch to the bicep. 

  The room itself just had such Hugo vibes. Post it notes covered the walls with notes about chemistry along with little reminders on them (ones Varian couldn’t make out due to Hugo’s fancy yet unreadable cursive writing). An unfinished mechanical device looking similar to a mouse laid with his stomach facing upwards on the desk against the right wall with a wardrobe beside it, doors painted green and hiding the true color of the wood underneath. A bed pressed against the back wall sat against the left wall, the also green covers in a bundle on the floor, as though Hugo had fallen out of bed and forgotten to clean it. Slowly, Varian made his way towards the desk, before Hugo abruptly stepped in front of him to block his path. 

  “Ah. No working at the desk. There’s a surgical patient there at the moment called Olivia, so we’re gonna have to work on the bed. Lucky you.” He commented with a grin, taking a seat. Varian hesitated before perching beside him, taking the books out of his bag as Hugo’s eyes followed his every movement. As reassuring as it was to know Hugo was here, the staring was...really putting him off. It was excessive and happening everywhere - his room, the chemistry labs..hell, even the hallway today as they crossed paths while Varian made his way to math with Nuru dragging him along. It was strange and, according to Nuru, out of character for Hugo to be doing. Varian wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what was in character for Hugo, if he was being honest. Carefully he placed the books on the bed and the pair began to work on their presentation. 

  He hadn’t realised it, neither of them had, but by the time they’d decided to finish, Varian’s head rested on Hugo’s shoulder and had subconsciously cuddled against him on the bed. He flushed as Hugo brought this to his attention. “I’m sorry. I’ll just-” Varian apologised, trying to move away before a hand moved to hold him in place. Hugo’s eyes locked with his azure ones in a silent staring match, neither of them wanting to move until Hugo gained the courage. He tilted forward slightly before-

  “Varian! We’re here!” Rapunzel called from downstairs, the noise bringing both the boys back down from whatever alternate universe they’d created where it was just them. Varian moved away, Hugo letting him slide out of his embrace as he packed his books and their work into his backpack, slinging it over his back and rising to his feet. With his voice almost a whisper, he uttered goodbye before rushing out and down the stairs to meet Rapunzel.

  Hugo laid back on his bed, staring at the glow stars on the ceiling set out like constellations as his mind ran over what had just happened. What had gotten into him? What was the other boy doing to him to cause him to just..act like that? He let out a slight gasp at his sudden revelation. Oh no. No way did he have a crush on Varian Ruddiger. Absolutely no way would he have a crush on someone that was far too good for him in every way.

  He thought back to Zander and the rumours of him and his boyfriend. Of course he couldn’t risk that happening to him OR Varian. They had enough going on as it is, so the last thing he needed was for them to deal with that kind of torment at school. However…

  ..he couldn’t stop thinking about the other boy.

  The way that he couldn’t get enough of him. How he explained things so perfectly and not condescending in the slightest. The way he took care of everything around him and was gentle and careful when talking about potentially hurtful things. The way his blue eyes lit up the slightest bit when he smiled. The small snorts when he laughed. He really was falling hard for the other, huh. He was pretty sure his mom could tell too by the way she’d grinned at him from across the table at dinner in a way that told him that she knew whatever he was hiding, even though HE hadn’t known he was hiding anything at that point. 

  Huh. He really was in love. And this time, he didn’t hate it.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Baby its Cold Outside (PART 2)

Bakugo x Reader

Bakugo has feelings

*Angst *Fluff *Smutish *All the feelings

Words: 1894

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

Ever since that fateful day a month ago that you forgot your jacket, you and Bakugo had been all over each other. You basically lived at his place. Waking up every morning to a fresh cup of coffee just the way you like it and if you were lucky, maybe even some shower sex before you went off to work.

He loved having you over all the time, and if he didn't think it was too soon he'd probably ask you to move in. Hell you had known each other for over five years now. Just because you only now started dating doesn't mean he hadn’t thought about this for a while. He loved making you dinner and taking care of you. He found it adorable how you could never reach anything in his kitchen. You begged him to move some stuff down to a lower shelf but he refused. Saying it was more fun to watch you climb on the counters. In reality he just liked that you always needed him to reach things.

You were always popping back and forth between your apartment and his. He had learned that if he listened really hard he could hear the telling sound of whooshing air that signaled your coming and going. It was subtle but he grew accustomed to it and could now pick it out anywhere. Subconsciously smiling every time he heard it. He still acted surprised whenever you tired to sneak up on him. You were always so cute when you thought you had actually scared him.

You were nervous work would be weird now that you two were together. But it was the opposite. Your chemistry was through the roof, and you were kicking ass. I mean there was the one incident were you chased down a thief and totally kicked his ass before Bakugo could get there. First he was yelling about how you were reckless and should have waited for back-up and then the next thing you knew you were being pushed into a side closet and being fucked senseless.

Today had been a long day. Bakugo had the day off and spent the whole day with Kirishima doing whatever it is those two do. You had to be paired up with some random hero you had never heard of for patrol today and he bored you to death. You wanted your spicy nugget back.

You could hear Bakugo banging around upstairs so you knew he was home. Excitedly you teleported into his apartment which was something that had become quite the habit the last few weeks. You quietly snuck over to him as he cooked in the kitchen. You didn't know what it was, but it smelled really fucking good.

You slipped your hands around his waist as you hugged him from behind, “mmm smells good baby.”

“Keep making noises like that and I just might have to bend you over the kitchen table and take you right here.”

You playfully swatted at his stomach, “Such a caveman”

He continued to stir whatever it was he was cooking, “But I’m your caveman.”

You slowly pushed past the waistband of his pants and palmed him through his boxers, “And I’m all yours...”

And that's how Bakugo, for the first time ever....burnt dinner.

*****

You were walking around the apartment wearing one of his t-shirts looking for take out menus. You two had worked up quite the appetite. You returned to his bed, phone in one hand and a ramen menu in the other.

Bakugo put his hand on your thigh and rubbed soothing circles, “Hey I think we need to talk.”

You froze as panic started to seize you. No good conversation ever started that way.

He gently took the things from your hands and pulled you into his lap. Brushing his thumbs over your cheeks, “I think we need to tell our boss we’re dating. It's kind of unprofessional for us to be partnered on patrol if we’re romantically involved.”

You let our a huge sigh of relief, “I thought you were about to break up with me. I was seriously about to start crying.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, “Oh no! Dont be fucking dramatic. Of course not you idiot. You think I’d wait five years to make a move just to toss you to the curb. No you’re unfortunately stuck with me.”

You gave him a soft smile and leaned forward snuggling into his neck, “Is that why you want a new patrol partner? Because you’re stuck with me.”

You were just teasing him and he knew that but he still rolled his eyes. “No I love working with you. Honestly, I know I complained at first, but I love getting to see you in action. If anything it turns me on.”

You thumped him on the forehead, “We’re having a serious conversation here reel it in horn dog.”

He frowned, “I went to get some drinks with Kirishima and we got to talking about how scary it is to have significant others also in the hero business. Y/n if something were to happen to you I don't know what I’d do.” His grip on you tightened. “If it were to come down between saving you or catching a villain or hell even saving you or saving a civilian... I would choose you every time. Hero’s aren’t supposed to selfish, but how can I not be when my first priority is always going to be standing right next to me.”

He started to run his hands through his hair out of frustration, “And honestly I don't think changing partners would even help at all. Because I don't know if I could trust anyone on this earth to watch your back while your out there the way I do. I would be worried sick every day. And I know I can’t ask you to quit, that’s not even an option... I’m just freaking out!”

You cradled his head against your chest and you ran your fingers through his hair. You felt a single tear run down your cheek. You knew he cared, but you didn't know he cared this much. That was practically a declaration of love, especially coming from Bakugo. You two had known each other since UA, and you have never seen him show so much emotion that wasn’t rage.

“Oh honey nothing’s going to happen to me. When push comes to shove I can always teleport away. It may only be 50 yards right now but that's farther than I could at the begging of UA! Remember you used to make fun of me because I could only go about 20 feet. You pushed me every day to be better and look where I am now. That’s because of you! Who knows, maybe soon I’ll be able to go miles!”

He got very serious as he took your head in his hands, “Promise me y/n. Promise me that if it’s ever you or me you will always pick yourself. I need to know that if we ever get in a sticky situation you’ll teleport away.”

You could see the desperation in his eyes. He really needed to hear you say it. But you couldn't. It would be a lie. There’s no way you could ever leave him behind. Even before you two were together you still would have fought till the end with him.

“Katsu... you have to understand how impossible that is to ask of me. Could you do it? Leave me behind and run off to safety?” His eyes watered up but no tears spilled out. “I know you couldn't. We’re heroes... it’s in our job description to put others before oursleves.”

His hands left your face and settled in his lap holding on to yours. His eyes couldn't meet yours. You had never seen him so vulnerable. “Please y/n. For my sanity. Just promise me.” His eyes snapped up to yours and they looked so sad but so serious. “I tried so hard to not have feelings for you. For years I teased you and pushed you away because I had convinced myself being a hero would be easier if I did it alone. No matter what I did though I could never get rid of those nagging feelings. You don’t even know how many times I’ve lost my shit over you.”

He took a deep breath, “Once at UA, Mineta somehow had acquired a picture of you while you were changing and I beat the little shit to a pulp.” Oh Shit he really was opening the flood gates now. “All those times I pushed you harder in training was because I knew I wasn’t going to be there with you out in the real world and I wanted to know you could take care of yourself.”

He ran a hand over his reddening face“Shit just last month when we were on patrol! When that villain had you pinned I saw red. I fucking blew his face off. All those times I bitched about you holding me back when really I was just a nervous wreck on high alert all the time!”

He was really on a rant now. His face was flushed as he just continued to get himself worked up. It would have been cute if it wasn’t such a serious topic.

“Babe, I cant even begin to tell you how much I appreciate how much you care about my well being. I really and truly do. But like you said you pushed me so hard in training to make sure I was ready. And thanks to you I am...” You gave his shoulder a playful punch, “Besides you’re Ground Zero! Soon to be the number one hero. There isn’t a villain alive who compares to your power.”

You were just stroking his ego now but he did seem to calm down a bit. “I may not be able to promise I’ll always pick my myself over you. But I can promise that starting now I’ll try and be more careful with the risks I take. I promise I won’t intentionally put myself in danger, how does that sound?”

He groaned and started playing with your hair, “You fucking stuburn women! You never do what I ask and I mean never! If you were anyone else I’d pound some sense into you!”

You wagged your eyebrows, “I mean I’m always down for you to ah... pound... some sense into me.”

“Nope! NO! I will NOT be tempted by pelvic sorcery! You will not distract me...” You could feel his hands sliding up and down your thighs, “Like the biggest brat in the world once said, ‘reel it in horn dog.’”

You moved your hips to grind against him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just casually sitting in my incredibly hot boyfriends lap minding my own business...”

“Damnit women!... okay FINE! BUT THIS CONVERSATION ISNT OVER!”

He grabbed your ass with a hard squeeze as he pushed you harder into his growing erection. “Shit what are you doing to me. All you have to do it bat those fucking eyes and I lose my fucking train of thought.” You yelped as he flipped you over and pined you to the mattress. “Now for once just be a good girl and let me take care of you...”

[hopeless-lovex0]

I HAVE A DREAM (PART 17)

Kim Hongjoong Fanfic

Warning: Angst. Cheating. Heartbreak. Cursing. Fluff.

      Fellow Atiny and Kpop stans, I present to you guys Part 17 of I Have A Dream! (*^_^*) It’s a little bit short this time as I’ve been working super hard on the finally for this story which I’m sad to say is coming soon 😞 it might be the next one coming up as well so I want to make sure that the last part to this story is written well and that you guys enjoy it. I dont have much to say today other than I hope you guys enjoy this week’s update and without further ado I present to you guys, part 17 of I Have A Dream 🎉❤

      2 hours, that's how long the rest of Ateez waited in that boring, white walls, old movie playing in the background room. To say each and every one of them was beyoung uncomfortable was an understatement.

     The green ugly leather chairs scattered around the room were beyond uncomfortable, the support simply just not there. The rest of the guys gave Wooyoung and Mingi the privilege of sitting on the only comfortable furniture there was in the room, due to their back pains. A beige sofa (which Seonghwa and Yeosang swear was once white) placed against a white dull wall with some poor excuse of decoration placed on it.

     Placed on the end of the room, was a simple brown small table with a bunch of fashion and sports magazines scattered around the surface of it. Above the table was an old square tv mount with said tv hanging from it, old movies coming an going as their wait in the room moves into the third hour.

     Seonghwa knows that if it wasn't for the snacks and drinks vending machine a couple feet away from, every single one of the guys will eventually be driven crazy by the small dulled out room.

     By now half of the guys are slouching in their seats, Wooyoung and Mingi leaning against each other with an uncomfortable expression on their faces. Once in awhile, a couple of the guys would get up and walk up to the vending machine and take out various chips and candy to keep them awake.

     San, however, was active like a little kid on Christmas morning, pacing around the room with a bag of chips in hand. Seonghwa had told him multiple times to sit down, casting apologetic looks to other people sitting in the waiting room with them. The main dancer ignored him though, mind scattered with various thought and heart racing a thousand miles per minute.

     He also had a frown placed upon his face, the delicate smile he would usually be bearing gone from sight. He was cursing himself over and over again in his mind, thinking that it should have been him to be there with Y/N.

     The rest of the guys watched him from their seats, growing impatient with him as the minutes passed by. They know how he was feeling and they know he was blaming himself, but alas there was nothing to do especially when all of them got their phones taken away by the manager.

     Jongho was the one to finally snap, jumping off his chair and taking ahold of San’s shirt, pulling back and slamming him down on one of the chairs available. The rest of the guys watched with wide eyes, but they all knew that there was no point in scowling him when each one of them wanted to do the same thing. “ Sit down and stop pacing around. The other people waiting here are getting annoyed with you.” He says, not bothering to add any formalities as he similarly waits for the results with rapidly beating heart.

     San turns to look around the waiting room, just starting to realize the looks that some people are giving him from his constant walking. Giving them a small bow of apology, he sits back down and begins to nibble on his bag of biscuits, the rest of the guys doing the same.

     “ It's been almost 3 hours! How much longer is it gonna take!” San bursts out, breaking the silence that sat on them, the sound of the movie playing getting drowned out by San outburst. Seonghwa is about to snap at him for startling everyone and causing a scene when a doctor carrying a clipboard walks up to the doorway.

    Half of the guys don't pay attention as they think it's news for someone else, while San, Jongho and Seonghwa look at her expectedly fingers crossed that it's Y/N they are calling for.

    “ People here to see Miss (L/N)?” She calls out, getting scared when a total of 7 guys jump up from their seats and race up to her, calling out Y/N’s name in unison. “ Uh.. I'm not sure that all you guys would be allowed in.” She says, getting groans in response.

     “ Please, let us all go! We've all been waiting for almost 3 hours and we really want to see her and the baby.” Yunho says, whipping his hands out and placing them in front of him in a praying motion while giving the doctor his best puppy eyes. Mingi noticing this, follows his lead elbowing Wooyoung and getting him to do it as well.

    In the span of a minute, the doctor has 7 from men in front of her giving her puppy eyes while pouting at the same time. Shaking her head and sighing out, she looks at them one more time before finally nodding her head, causing the guys to yells out in victory.

     Walking away from them, she gestures for them to follow her as they walk towards the elevators. The ride towards Y/N’s room feels packed and tense, the guys barely fitting all in the small space. When the doors open, they blindly follow the doctor as she passes various rooms, turning left and right on different hallways before finally stopping in front of a closed door. Giving them a small smile, she gives them a quick bow before finally walking away towards a nurse standing at the end of the hallway.

     The guys stand crowding the door not knowing what to do and how to approach, Mingi shoving Wooyoung to the door and Yunho slowly creeping up to it as if the door will somehow blow open by itself. Jongho and San however didn’t hesitate to knock quietly on the door, Seonghwa and Yeosang waiting patiently behind them.

     What feels like 10 years when it’s actually 10 seconds the door finally creaks open, Mingi and Wooyoung stopping their childish arguing. There staring right back at them is Hongjoong, a small smile placed upon his pink chapped lips. He brings his finger up to his lips, telling them to keep quiet before gesturing them to walk into the room with him.

     All 7 of them slowly stride in, walking up to the big hospital in the center of the room. There in a pile of bedsheets lays Y/N with a white bundle laying on her hands, slowly caressing it with a gentle hand.

     Hearing them walk in, Y/N lifts her gaze towards the guys standing timidly a couple feet away from her. Her eyes search the faces of the guys before stopping on the maknae of the group, a big smile blooming on her tired still slightly sweaty face.

     Reaching her hand towards Jongho, she gestures for him to come closer, the maknae doing so with hesitant steps. Once he's finally within reach, Y/N gently grabs one of his hands and pulls him next to her bed.

     “ Jongho, meet baby Jongho.” Y/N says, letting out a small laugh when Jongho’s eyes grow wide with excitement. He carefully leans over the bed and takes a closer look at the sleeping baby, tears welling up on his eyes when the baby begins to stir.

     “ Can I.. Can I hold him?” He whispers out, not wanting to wake him up, Y/N giving him another beaming smile and carefully passing baby Jongho to grown-up Jongho.

     The rest of the guys watch in awe as Jongho turns around cradling the tiny baby in his hands, Seonghwa and Yunho taking out their phones and beginning to take as many pictures as they can. The guys crowd around him to take a closer look at the baby, cooing at the sleeping baby and at Jongho tearing up.

     San gives the baby a loving look, then proceeds to walk up to Y/N’s side, leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead. Y/N feels her face explode with warmth, 100% sure that her face is currently turning red, and she prays that the machine next to her doesn't start giving away her fast-beating heart.

     She gives him a small smile, way too tired to questions his actions, instead choosing to lean her head back and watch the rest of the guys fawn over the baby.

     “ How are you feeling?” San whispers out, attention still on Y/N as she continues to watch the interaction between baby Jongho. “ Like I just popped a baby out.” She answers causing San to let out a laugh, Wooyoung and Yeosang who were listening in to the conversation snickering to themselves.

     “ I'm sorry I wasn't there for you... It must have been scary when no one answered right?” San questions, holding onto one of her hands while slowly caressing it with his thumb. “ It's okay.. Hongjoong told me you guys got in trouble with the manager and Youngji was busy at work.” Y/N says, closing her eyes as she finally feels her tense body relax, San’s little actions doing a ton to help her.

     San let's out a tiny laugh, shaking his head when he remembers why they got in trouble. “ We got in trouble cuz Yunho and Mingi were goofing around and Yeosang ended up snorking water from his nose from how much he was laughing. The manger came in when Seonghwa was patting his back and Wooyoung, Yunho and Mingi were on the floor laughing their asses off.” San lets her, causing Y/N to open up her eyes in amusement and laughing along with him.

     “ HEY! I didn't do anything and I still got in trouble so don't laugh cuz it wasn't funny.” Seonghwa calls out face twisted in a game scold, but you can tell he was holding in laughter, Yeosang holding his nose in disgust when he remembers how the water shooting out his nose gave him an uncomfortable burn for a couple of minutes.

     They sit there for a couple minutes, taking in the scene of the guys taking turns holding the small bundle of joy. “ Are you not gonna hold him?” Y/N questions him, San’s head whipping back to her making her wince when she thinks that he might have cracked his neck. “ Can I..?” He timidly asks her, some of the guys holding in their laughs from how shy he’s acting all of the sudden.

     Nodding her head in confirmation, San gets up from his spot beside her and walks up to Yunho who is currently swaying his body to keep the baby from waking up. Slowly Yunho places little Jongho in San’s arms, making sure that he’s supporting the baby’s head well.

     They all watch in awe as the baby begins to stir in his hands, letting out a small yawn and snuggling closer to San’s chest, somehow between all that managing to grip onto one of the main dancers finger.

     “ Wow San! Baby Jongho must really like you! He didn’t do that to any of us while we were holding him.” Wooyoung explains, the rest of the guys nodding and humming in agreement. “ Not even grown up Jongho is that fond of you.” Seonghwa jokes with him causing Jongho to glare at him in annoyance.

     “ That’s not true! I like San Hyung! It’s just that he’s always hanging out with Wooyoung and they make a lot of noise so I always have a headache!” Jongho defends himself, causing Wooyoung to snap his head towards him and put him in a headlock.

     “ What do you mean we’re loud! You are always walking around the dorm belting out high notes like we’re in a choir.” Wooyoung says, giving Jongho a nuggie on his head, Yunho and Mingi in the background watching the “fight” while Seonghwa and Yeosang stand next to San watching the baby with close eyes.

      Y/N watches the scene from her bed, letting out giggles when the guys continue to goof around. Her little quiet bubble is burst once she hears the chuckles of someone else right beside her, and it takes everything in her not to yelp out in surprise. Right beside her in the once vacant chair, sits Hongjoong watching as the guys continue to talk amongst each other, she can't help but feel bad once she realizes that she forgot he was even there.

     Together they sit in silence, watching as San brings up the baby towards his face and gives it a small kiss on the forehead, the rest of the guys crowding him with their phones ready to take a picture. “ I can tell you like him y’know.” Hongjoong says, causing Y/N to choke on her spit in surprise.

     “ What do you mean like him?! I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N quickly says, composing herself as best as she can, getting thrown off by the sudden question. “ You don't have to deny it, unless you yourself didn't know and barely just found out.” Hongjoong continues, watching as Y/N refuses to meet his eyes.

     He hesitantly continues when she keeps quiet. “ The way you look at him... It's how you used to look at me.” He whispers out, not wanting the rest of the guys to hear their conversation. “ Now it's not the time Hongjoong so please just stop.” Y/N calmly tells him, looking at him with pleading eyes that tell him she's not up for this conversation just yet.

     “ You're right.. I'm sorry for bringing it up.” Hongjoong quickly apologizes, not wanting to ruin the happy atmosphere surrounding them. They sit there for a couple more seconds before he hears Y/N let out a sigh. “ I was planning on talking to you after I have birth and got out of the hospital, but I guess since we’re here already I’ll just make it short. I’m not planning on keeping him away from you.” Y/N says, causing Hongjoong to gape at her in shock.

     “ We still have a long way to go from here, and I can guarantee you that I haven't forgotten what you did to me... To us. But I always knew that no matter what, he is your child and I would never think about keeping you from seeing him.” She says, causing Hongjoong to grip onto her hand with appreciation.

     He looks at her with newfound hope, the thought of being able to hold his child, raise his child, love his child with Y/N causing his heart to swell with happiness. “ Thank you.. Thank you for letting me be apart of his life.” He thanks her, gripping onto on her hands with glee, Y/N smiling back at him then turning back around and continuing to watch the guys cuddle the baby.

     Everything seems to finally settle down, Y/N and Hongjoong watching from the sidelines as the rest of the guys beg San to let them hold the baby again. Wooyoung seems to be making fun of Jongho for crying while the maknae crosses his arms in annoyance with a pout on his lips. Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho are circling San with their phones in hand, taking a million photos per minute, Yeosang on the other hands seems to be looking around the room with a confused look upon his face.

   Turning back to Y/N, he tilts his head sideways like a little curious puppy.

    “ Where's Youngji..?” He questions, the rest of the guys finally noticing the absence of her overprotective, loud brother.

   “ OH! He passed out.” She says, the rest of the guys stopping in their tracks.

     “.... WHAT?!?!?..”

[rimmers-swimming-certificate]

Red Dwarf Fanfic - Comatose (17/19)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

“Hey bud, how’s it going?” Cat asked as he slinked into the room.

Lister looked up from his meal and shrugged. “Not bad, man. Not bad at all. Kryten reckons I’m nearly back to full health. I walked half a mile today.”

“Half a mile?” Cat said. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table opposite Lister. “Is that a lot?”

Lister shrugged. “It depends on your perspective, I guess. I mean, to a guy that can run a marathon, no, probably not, but to a guy that was comatose not too long ago, I’d say it’s a pretty impressive achievement. I mean, I was shagged out by the end of it, and I’m going to be feeling it tomorrow for sure, but I did it. And even better…” he held up a piece of garlic naan dripping with vindaloo, “Kryten’s cleared me to eat the spicy stuff again.”

Cat screwed up his nose in distaste. “Hey, so that’s what stinks. You need to warn me before you heat up one of those things!”

Lister sniffed the plate of curry. It smelled beautiful. His mouth was watering already. He had been waiting for this for months. “Oh, and I moved back into the top bunk,” he added. “I’ve built up enough strength to reliably climb a ladder. It’s the little things, you know?”

“Yeah yeah, I don’t care about that,” Cat told him. “I was just trying to start a conversation, so it wouldn’t seem so sudden when I laid into you about Goalpost Head.”

“Rimmer?” Lister crammed the piece of naan bread into his mouth. Immediately his mouth began to burn. He sucked in a sharp intake of breath in an attempt to cool down. “What about him?” he asked around the food, and took a large swig of water.

“Water?” Cat asked. “You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been cleared for curry, but alcohol’s still off limits,” Lister explained. “What about Rimmer?”

“He’s been in a bad mood for weeks!” Cat said. “It’s your fault, you know.”

Lister took another large gulp of water and held it in his mouth before he swallowed it, in a futile effort to cool down the burning in his mouth. He knew it wouldn’t work, but it provided some temporary relief. The curry seemed a lot spicier than it should. If eleven months in a coma plus recovery time had ruined the spice tolerance he had spent twenty eight years building up, he was going to be very, very unhappy.

Maybe it was just a particularly spicy vindaloo. That happened sometimes, you just got one where the chef’s hand and slipped when he added the chillies. He took another gulp of water, and noticed that Cat was still staring at him, waiting for an answer. “What do you mean?” he asked. “How’s it my fault?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Cat asked incredulously. 

Lister shook his head. He glanced over at the little fridge they had in their room. He knew for a fact that he had some lager in there, because he had checked earlier that day. “He seemed fine this morning,” he said.

“Yeah, well he would, wouldn’t he? With you. You’re best buds now, apparently.”

“What?” Lister speared a piece of chicken with his fork, scooped up enough rice to counter a little of the spiciness, and popped it into his mouth. “Cat, what are you on about?”

“Come on, it’s obvious,” Cat told him. “Ever since you lost your ‘H’ and moved back into your body, he’s been in a bad mood, and it’s only getting worse.”

Lister frowned. He’d expected Rimmer to be in a bad mood, honestly, and he’d been pleasantly surprised at how well he had handled it. “What do you mean? What’s he been doing?” he asked.

“You know, Rimmer things,” Cat told him. “Just now, he tried to make me move my suits. Said they were a fire hazard. They’re just hanging in my wardrobe where I’ve always kept them.”

Lister nodded. “Where’s your wardrobe?” he asked.

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Cat said. “Not after what happened when he found out. Fire hazard! I mean, my fashion sense is on fire, but not like that!”

“I’m trying to help you,” Lister told him. “Where have you been keeping them?”

He watched Cat consider his options, then shrug. “Fine. They’re near the fire escape,” Cat told him. “You know that huge room on B deck with the fire alarm and all the fire extinguishers?”

Lister nodded.

“That’s my wardrobe. I use the fire extinguishers to hang my ties on.”

“Right,” Lister said. He ripped off another piece of bread, and used it to scoop up more curry. “I mean, you can kinda see Rimmer’s point.”

Cat stared at him with a look of pure betrayal on his face. “You’ve changed, bud,” he said.

“Hey! No I haven’t!” Lister told him. “I’m the same old Lister I’ve always been.”

“Nuh-uh,” Cat told him. “Being a hologram changed you. Anyway, he told me that if I didn’t move them, he was going to make the skutters throw them all out the airlock! Can you imagine? What kind of a monster would do something like that? My suits are innocent! They never did anything to him!”

“Alright,” Lister said. “That’s not on, you’re right. So what did you do? Did you move them?”

Cat shook his head. “No way. Don’t you know how many suits I have? It’d take me a week to move all of them.” He grinned. “I outsmarted him. I locked the door. I’d like to see him try to throw them away now!”

Lister nodded. He could already see a fatal flaw in that plan. Namely that the door didn’t lock with a key, all Cat could have done was ask Holly to lock the door, and even if Holly wanted to take Cat’s side in this argument, there was a good chance that she would forget and let Rimmer in if he asked.

He decided to wait until later to share that piece of information, there was more that he needed to know first. “Smart,” he said “So what else has Rimmer been doing?”

“Oh, just generally trying to make my life a misery,” Cat told him. “I never heard so many Space Corps directives. And you know what else? He tried to make me work!”

Lister frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well I was minding my own business, eating some Crispees, and he keeps asking me to push buttons for him. And I did, for a bit. I mean, I made him wait ‘til I was good and ready, but I pushed them eventually, you know. And then out of nowhere the dude asks… no, not asks, the dude straight up tells me to go find Kryten so he can push the buttons instead! Seriously? Like I’m some kind of a dog that’s going to go fetch people for him! And when I said no, he got mad. Called me a useless moggy. A moggy! I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means ‘cat’,” Lister told him as he braced himself and shovelled in another forkful of curry.

Cat frowned. “Oh. Well, it was the way he said it, you know?”

Lister nodded. The curry was making him start to sweat. He drew the sleeve of his shirt across his brow to dry it, then ripped off another piece of naan. “You know, maybe you’re right,” he said.

“Of course I’m right?” Cat told him. “What am I right about?”

“Rimmer. Maybe it is my fault. He has been nicer to me than normal. Like, he never complained once when we had to switch bunks because I couldn’t climb up, even though he found it difficult to climb the ladder. And when I played my guitar the other day, he didn’t complain then either, he just got up and left.”

“That just proves he’s not a total idiot,” Cat said. “Anyone would leave when you’re playing your guitar.”

Lister shrugged. “But he normally shouts at me first, threatens to destroy it, tells me he’s going to have the skutters cut all the strings. That kinda thing. He just got up and left. Didn’t even wince like I was hurting him.” And now he came to think about it, Rimmer hadn’t complained about his snoring in… Actually, he wasn’t sure how long it had been.

“So?”

“So maybe if he’s not insulting me and threatening to throw my guitar out the airlock, he’s got to do it to someone else.”

“But he didn’t threaten to throw my guitar out the airlock,” Cat said. “I don’t even have a guitar.”

Lister shook his head. His mouth was on fire now. He got up, grabbed a lager from the fridge and opened it. What Kryten didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “I know you don’t have a guitar, but you do have a room full of suits,” Lister explained. “I mean, he’s a smeghead, right? Maybe he just has to let the smeg out somehow.”

“Yeah, well I’d rather if it wasn’t all over me, thank you very much. Maybe now you’re better he can start hating on you again.”

“I’ll have a word with him,” Lister promised. “I’d maybe think about moving your suits though. If Rimmer wants to get in there, he can probably just ask Holly to unlock the door.”

Cat’s eyes widened in panic. “Seriously?”

Lister nodded.

“Gotta go,” Cat said, and bolted from the room.

Lister sighed. He dunked his naan in curry sauce again, and washed the mouthful down with a gulp of illicit lager. It was no longer too hot, his tolerance for spicy food was unaffected. He relaxed.

Rimmer was a problem though, Cat’s theory might be partially right, but he was fairly sure that something else was bothering Rimmer too, and it was something that he couldn’t fix quite as easily.

(next)

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

warning: this a fucking LONG post. if you plan on reading it all, godspeed.

i typed all of this as it was happening on stream so this gets progressively less coherent as i grow more sleep deprived. prepare yourselves. i may or may not go off topic at some points

larry vehemently vomiting pure malic acid. we’re off to a great start

what the fuck the soggy ass popcorn in that ranch jesus christ

lindsay in the song from AH the musical. i love her so much

jeremy going YAAAAAAY after someone eats a cursed oreo

matt getting AGGRESSIVELY kissed by larry

“this kiss this kiss” before geoff and jack kiss

geoff “i’m from alabama” ramsey

THIS FUCKING RANCH SEGMENT HAS ME GAGGING

jeremy “the alcohol demon the whiskey goblin” dooley

alfredo “you wont believe what the white people did today” diaz

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS GET THAT DICK ESSENCE

wait why does it sound like wonderwall

they look like characters from the matrix

the speaking parts. make my teeth hurt

in conclusion: they weren’t kidding abt the tight pants 

okay everyone get ready for eric soundboard spamming YEAH BABEY

“hi i’m from broadcast and i don’t want to be here” they represent themselves well

also, let’s take a second to appreciate broadcast here!! they have a really tough job and don’t get a ton of credit. lots of love to all of broadcast!!! you guys are awesome

i am: foreseeing problems with this eric sound board

which one is eric?? will the real eric please stand up?? was the real eric the one we found along the way??

“i’m... just really worried that i won’t ever find love-” “i really don’t care”

WHY DO THEY HAVE THAT ON THE SOUNDBOARD (what does that apply to? whatever it is you’re thinking of, but mostly “daddy wants some”)

ooh someone’s about to get a fReE tongue piercing from a pineapple

god dammit i went to the bathroom for thirty seconds and now they’re eating chad’s chest hair

owie the shock collar and belly slap look painful, but drinking natty light from a shoe? that’s a true punishment

“and this roast was brought to you by meundies”

ah yes what better way is there to end a segment than people throwing up

“man action” oh no

THROBERT MULVEINY

K A R B is blind in T W O of her eyes

“my last name is cottagecheese”

I HAVE A PIECE OF METAL SHOVED UP MY A S S 

chris has somehow managed to lose 23 years of age and roughly 412 pounds

“just open throat like baby bird” who the fuck is writing this and why is it jeremy

jon. jon you’re breathing in adam’s ass fumes

a summary of this segment: ass and cottage cheese

BARB IS HERE I REPEAT BARB IS HERE

“to fitness” -starts choking-

final fitness coach: tad, here to workout your issues so they can beat you into submission

“will you buy my wet” well i don’t see that on the raffle items

we’re back folks & i’m loving this walk around segment

moonball wall and gavin&michael will soon be reunited can we get an F in the chat

jeremy getting a borderlands tattoo is very on brand

what’s extra life without a little satan

“starvation army, putting lead back into paint, increasing childhood obesity” people in chat: TAKE MY MONEY

chris “i’m doing a different hole” demarais

ah yes. the game we all play in hell: twister

nobody edit chris getting mustard shot down his throat. i’m scarred enough from the original clip

oh fuck. oh god. the mayo. oh god what the fuck is up with the misuse of condiments this year

this just in: a human soul costs roughly $12,700

D̷̯͑̆̈́͝Õ̸̲͎̥̬͈̬̙͕̲G̸̢̧̠͉͚̙̲̙̓̔̀̇S̷̥̀́͆̈́̇̀ ̶̣̞̗͚̬̭̖̦͇̈́̎̈́̿̓̈́͆̒̋D̷̙̟̩̫͉̺̐̊̚Ö̶̥́̋́̓ͅĜ̵̞̌͋̏̉̌̕͝͝S̵̤̹̣̫̮̻͛̍̑̕͝͝ ̷̧̨̞̙̥̟̜͍̉̍̑̏̇̀̾D̴̻̮̩̯͓͉̖͎̘͐̒͋̓̉͝ͅỎ̶̰͓̳̥͑̅͛͊̒͐͊͘̚G̵̩̻̦̥̠̃̔Ş̶̹͚̩̱͖̀͆͘ ̸̢̢͇̻͔̗̺̼͖̱̏̾̔̚D̴̨̨̫̙̃̾̋̾̆̓̓Ớ̷̡͓͎͊G̶̱̣̣̰̝̖̰̗̓͐̐̊͋̀͊̀̕͝Ş̷̩̺̬̖͙̺̟͗̈́͒͗̀̑́́̕͠ ̷̡͈̼̲͈̳̫̺̝̈́̋͌͗̒ͅD̸̨̬̞̪̗̘̄̑͆̿̈́͘͠͝O̸̡̡͇͕̻͎͍͉̅̌͗̄͌̑̉̔͂̎Ḡ̸͙̟̪̞̬̬͕͐̈̏S̶̝̪̼̮̠̜̭̳͖̘̑

urine: to help with aerodynamics

jon: maya, speak! maya: *the smallest arwoo*

today’s mvp: any dog. pick one. no matter which you pick, you’re right

how the fuck did blaine change back from satan so quickly

barb as a cat is... my new sleep paralysis demon

blaine: barbara speak! barbara: climate change is real

#dogsforkids

this just in: extra life killed my wifi

we’re back & kdin is in the business of killing people with spice. she is the spice queen

queue six thousand well-timed 1337 donations

HOLY SHIT THAT’S COLIN FROM WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY

hmm “questionable liquids” is very... questionable

trevor: oh there’s four of them! we all get to join in the Fuckkkk

“what’s your favorite kind of candy” “any meat”

i like pickles and i would rather rip my eyebrows off than drink the juice so i feel for trevor

the only thing worse than drinking apple cider vinegar is shooting it out of your nose

“can you feel the love tonight” “i used to and that’s the problem”

“flubs every word man” damn, really missed the chance to say captain hair

jeremy not being able to intentionally flub his words is so fucking funny

OK BOOMER 

wow i can feel my blood pressure spike just watching these shots

Xavier Woods is here and he wants to know if it’s Christmas

miles doesn’t know what a question is

WHERE’S YOUR HAIR

oh no. oh no helping hands is next. everyone clear a splash zone

CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

miles bossing around chef mike is priceless

“you leave that fucking dough on the floor”

“you wanna slam your hands down on the table” *pizza sauce goes flying everywhere*

HOEDOWN HOEDOWN HOEDOWN jesus why do i keep doing that

“If Colin Mochrie is listening, I’ll see you here next year” OH FUCK YEAH

--- this is when i take a break so my soul can return to my body (aka i have work to turn in. college will never not be a pain in my ass) ---

oh god dammit i missed all of Always Open. fuck college who needs a medical degree

so... we have some very interesting things happening in family feud and i’m not sure if i like any of them

hmm. is now the time to get drunk

oily twist feels very... ominous

what do you mean you don’t remember gandalf having a taser in lord of the rings?

someone in the chat said “big stupid sleeping thing is what my parents called me in high school”

i think i’m blacking out what’s going on i don’t remember the past two hours

ah yes. voldemort and snape having a talk show together sounds exactly like something J.K. Rowling would make a spinoff book or show or porno of

can we just talk about how much shit chris has been doing this year? what a guy. what a dude

“coldy with voldy” actually means getting knocked the fuck out cold because you only got three hours of sleep last night and you don’t want to miss chef mike and lindsay cooking

this snape poem is summarized by one phrase: “that was terrible sit the fuck down” (sorry chris)

“let’s destroy a weasley” enter chad

fucking called it

“you smell poor” i need a caffeine drip

heh the wheel spins are at 69 heh nice

i’m a grown ass woman

welcome to a section called: we torture chad for your entertainment

“who wants us to kill weasley?” *massive cheers from the audience*

“wait weasley step away from the wideshot so i can masturbate to this later”

“i’m not gonna rub my eye mom”

oh they’re really gonna kill chad on stream huh

i felt that chest slap in my soul

i think i felt my own ribs crack

oh fucking

tumblr deleted my thoughts on the fanfic section

alright. fine. brief summary: my teeth are burning

my mom lindsay is on next and i’m so excited but i’m nearing the point of loopiness so things will go downhill dramatically from here

this is my fucking fourth extra life, you would think i’d be smart enough to sleep the night before

LINDSAY LINDSAY LINDSAY THAT’S MY MOM

JEREMY JEREMY JERE- wait a second... did jeremy get taller

oH CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

i hope Xavier comes back next year because he’s funny as fuck

m y a t t

oh god the mcdonald’s shade i’m rolling

lindsay “who’s the chef here” jones

chef mike mentioned mayo and i involuntarily gagged

chef mike clowning the big mac. i’m crying

he made the right choice with ryan bc i’ve seen his cooking stream(s) and it’s nothing if not great content

i heARD A MICHAEL JONES

“lindsay you haven’t done anything but warm up cookies so far” “yeah and?? you’re welcome”

you know that classic snack. slightly warm oreos

JEREMY THE LIQUOR GOBLIN DOOLEY IS BACK

oh god him screeching across set is making me cry laughing

why does it remind me of trevor’s voice cracks in the one minecraft ep where they’re singing the lion king

the biggest spoon for the smallest shot glass

i just realized we’re not even halfway through yet and i’m scared for the length of this list i’m gonna end up falling asleep involuntarily at some point

lindsay no your teeth are going to errode from that shot in your mouth

well timed leet donation #1829495

this gorden ramsey bit is so fucking good

jack: what do you think of the arugala? matt: i don’t even know what you said

iT’s NoT jUsT tWo CoOkIeS miCHeAL

jeremy and michael just chillin amidst the choas is exactly my demeanor at any party i’ve ever been to

lindsay scores: ryan = 7 because diet coke, matt = still eating lindsay’s meal so it’s a 10, xavier = also still eating it so it’s an 8. total: 25

“deep fry everything but a remote control”

chef mike scores: ryan = 9 for no death, matt = greens are present, words were said, score is 8. xavier = Gourmet Mcdonald’s, food is edible, score is 8. total: 25

oh fuck it’s a tie

now they fight to the death. death = doing as many shots as possible

i think we’re all going to need liver transplants after tonight

no jesus please don’t vomit oh goD oh fUc k please- oh thank god

okay i’m making a part two this is too much

[nctstany]

⨀ chapter 7 ⨀  Play Doctor

Markhyuck {side Renmin} {side Jaeyong}

Summary- There’s always been a rivalry between camp 127 and camp dream but that changes once a newcomer arrives.

OR

Mark Lee was forced into joining a summer camp by his parents since he’s been wasting his last two summers inside away from kids his age.

!Warning! Mark Lee is a hothead !Warning!

The most NSFW content you’ll is like kissing or.....holding hands (maybe something but you’ll have to read it to know)

Just a solid couple of days were we couldn't look each other in the eyes. Someone always ended up looking away and that someone is always me, nobody noticed it somehow....not even us.

"I know it was you, Donghyuck." The boy’s name alone made Mark’s attention turn in the direction of the commotion. A camp counselor stood in front of Hyuck with his arms crossed on his chest. 

"Bullshit! I would never do anything petty like this." 

"Yeah sure, you're cleaning this up and you can kiss movie night with dream goodbye since you'll be cleaning." 

"Totally not fair! It wasn't even me!" Donghyuck threw the mop given to him on the ground and stood his ground with a little puff through the nose. 

“I’m getting real tired-” Before the counselor could get another word in, Mark popped out from the corner and stood in between them. He proceeded to do the dumbest thing he has ever done....in his opinion anyway.    

"He didn't do it!" 

"Mark-" 

"I did it." Mark’s eyes wondered as the counselor tried to see past his bullshit while the whole time a very confused Donghyuck stood behind Mark. 

“So you made this mess?” Mark looked at the so called mess beside them, finally taking a good at it since he actually doesn’t know the damage because, wow such a shocker, he didn’t make it. 

Eggs and the shells thrown onto the window of the counselor’s offices even the carts left behind on the floor. Mark’s confused face showed but quickly went away when he felt a glare.

“Yep it was me! All of it and Donghyuck had no help in it!” 

The counselor raised his eyebrow and shrugged while giving him the mop as he walked away, "Then you clean it up." Mark breathed out slowly and mentally punched himself in the face. 

Why the hell did I do that? 

"Why did you do that?" As if his thoughts came out of his head, Mark jumped at Donghyuck’s voice. 

"I don't know…" He did his best to look everywhere but in Donghyuck’s eyes and brushed him off when he got too close, "Just go do whatever you have to do." Mark began to clean while trying to hide his face in the handle. 

“Mark.” The other hummed in his face causing Mark to turn around and begin to clean with a harsh tone in his voice.

“Go before I change my mind.”

□●□●□●□

A bright light flashed in Jaehyun's face and he hissed as his head started to rush with blood. He looked around slowly as his eyes adjusted to everything. Once his vision became stable he saw Taeyong sitting next to him, his eyes not fixed on him but looking off with worry.  

"What happened?" Jaehyun’s voice stayed raspy, head pounding as he sat up a little. 

"You got overheated during the game." The game meaning a soccer match that Yuta really wanted to have even if it was 100 degrees out. 3 vs 3, teams even and always the same since they play soccer almost 24/7. The heat has never bothered Jaehyun before and it shouldn’t have started now, he’s blaming it on the 4 hours of sleep. Also the lack of breaks they took during each new game that needed to be take place because there was always someone accused of cheating.

"Did we at least win the game?" 

"Not even close." Taeyong giggled a little gaining a smile and chuckle from Jaehyun. He proceed to bottle feed some water to the dehydrated dummy and continued on with a worried expression. 

“You gave everyone a scare.” Taeyong’s voice small and body language showing off stress that anyway a mile away can see. He looked up at Jaehyun with a shake in his eyes, trying to calm down any sudden voice crack that wanted to leave his throat. “Even me.” 

Between the two Jaehyun stayed the most quiet in that moment. 

“Get some rest.” Taeyong said with a half smile and got up to leave the room with a even bigger display of stress. In an act of trying to comfort Jaehyun stopped him and pulled him down to be embraced. 

“You should be resting.” 

“Only if you stay here with me.” Taeyong rolled his eyes, bringing his hands to the other to be released but Jaehyun's grip under his waist only tightened. 

“Whatever.” They settled closer into the bed, Taeyong's back against the other's chest and arms tightly around the waist. This has never happened before... Jaehyun being caring and actually worrying about the other’s feelings, in Taeyong’s opinion it never has. 

“Hey Taeyong.” He looked over his shoulder and came into contact with Jaehyun’s lips. A sweet, slow kiss that made Taeyong melt in his arms. Still being a slow kiss Jaehyun climbed on top of the other and closed the space between them.

“No you need to rest.” Instantly Taeyong pushed the other away enough for the space between them to come back. 

"I'm just kissing you~" 

"That's all you ever want to do." It was meant to be a whisper but Taeyong's eyes widened once Jaehyun sat back on his calves and gripped his thighs. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing..." 

“No continue, say whatever you’ve been holding back apparently.”   

“It’s painful when we do stuff because I know I’m the only one with feelings and I’m tired of waiting for you, hoping one day you’ll love me back.” Jaehyun laid out on the other, chest to chest, wrapping his arms lovingly under the other and embraced him harder. Cuddling into his neck, hearing the other's heart beat and Jaehyun smiled with a deep chuckle. 

“Jaehyun?”  

"You have no idea how much you mean to me." His voice deep and serious that made Taeyong’s spine tingle. "I'll prove it." 

He reached behind Taeyong and his hand went directly inside the other's gym shorts. Grabbing and parting his ass, placing a finger on his rim causing his back to arch. Taeyong pushed the other back and sat up instantly. 

"H-how is that proving it?"

"I'm going to pleasure you and only you." His tone too serious and Taeyong’s face just getting too red as he continued, "Finger you until you cum-" 

"Shut up!" 

"That's not happening right now." Taeyong’s pitched reached higher since during his tantrum Jaehyun palmed at a certain area and brought his mouth closer to his ear. "The bulge in your pants says something different." 

"I'm leaving!" Yet again he was stopped and pinned down on the bed but this time he wore a pout looking away from the other. 

"Taeyong." Jaehyun rolled his eyes but once the other didn’t listen the first time, "Lee Taeyong, look at me right now." he focused his face to look at him.  

"I've been so scared to say this since the first day back here because I didn't know if you were ready or I don't know. You make me feel crazy and happy just when I think about you. I love you so fucking much and I was stupid for not saying it earlier but will you be my boyfriend?" It was everything Taeyong wanted to hear and everything Jaehyun in that moment but to be honest he could go on all day about the other. He’s everything to me. 

“Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me so I know you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!” This time Jaehyun’s pitch got higher and he cleared his throat to look deeper into Taeyong’s eyes. “Will you be my boyfriend?”  

"Yes." Taeyong was able to get out of Jaehyun’s grip and pulled him in for a kiss with more meaning behind it. "A thousand times yes."

□●□●□●□

Renjun had a bad day like usual and for this one he wished that he had just stayed in bed. Maybe even just skipped the morning and went straight to his free time in the late afternoon then maybe the headache wouldn’t have happened. The morning is for the worst kind of person to annoyed the most annoyed kind of person. Of course it was Jaemin that got on his nerves, why wouldn’t he? He just had to exist in front of Renjun, flash his cute annoying smile and talk to the other. Disrespectful. 

Nonetheless, Renjun spent his time away from the other and just other people in general because he would have burst. With the day ending Renjun made it way back to the room and was greeted to Jaemin right in his face as soon as he opened the door. 

"Get out of my way moron." 

"Why are you being mean to me lately?" Jaemin asked and Renjun hummed making Jaemin fix his statement. "You're mean to everyone but I feel like I'm being targeted more." Renjun tried to walk away and ignore the other but Jaemin kept his path filled, wanting his question answered no matter what.

"I'm tired of you."

"Yeah right." Jaemin laughed and pouted this time. "Tell me~" He got in Renjun’s face and closed the space between them. The whole time Renjun felt his face heat up and his eyes, hands started to shake. 

"Oh my god!" Rage just came over him like in any situation involving Jaemin and he went to push the other away but his shakiness didn’t let him. "Just-" 

"Just what?" 

"Get out of my face!" 

"Make me." Instead of showing a grin Jaemin puffed out his chest and hummed out with his annoyance. Two options, Renjun gave himself two options. He can actually deal with this whole Jaemin thing or just walk away like he always does and hate himself later for letting the opportunity blow over. 

"I'm leaving." Just as Renjun went to reach for the door Jaemin found his hand grabbing it to shut it. Renjun looked over with frustration, changing once he was off balance and thrown onto a bed. 

"Jaemin!" Once he realized what happened his mind started to get fuzzy as he looked up at the boy with a mischievous grin. 

"I'm not letting you go until you tell me the truth." 

"Jaemin- can you...this is stupid!" Renjun whined, he actually whined even Jaemin's ear couldn't believe it. It caused him to gulp down hard and tighten his grip around the other's wrist, pushing them more above him. 

"Tell me." 

"God fucking goddamn it! I like you, okay? I like you so fucking much and I hate being around you for too long because I might explode one day like how I'm doing now!" Even though he confused a couple years worth of feelings the embarrassment only showed on his ears but his face showed nothing but annoyance, "Let me go." 

"No." 

"J-" The name was swallowed by Jaemin stealing Renjun's lips. Hands still held up above his head and body pinned, it's everything Renjun dreamed about. His mind denied it somehow as he used some sort of strength to pull his mouth away from Jaemin. About to speak Jaemin sent kisses down his neck, sucking and licking above the collarbone. The only thing that came out of Renjun's mouth was a high pitched moan. Finally finding the strength he pushed Jaemin away enough to come in eye contact with him. They breathe heavily while burning looks into each other's eyes. The tension so thick Renjun couldn't understand what sentence he was trying to form to say. During it Jaemin went right back to the chase, placing his mouth on Renjun's neck again and hands popping open pants. 

"Wait!" Renjun pushed him away again, the other responding with a low growl that made Renjun speak with a stutter, "Wait...I just- we can't- you can't just kiss me like I didn't just spill my heart out minutes ago." Jaemin leaned into his face causing him to turn away, the other chuckled bright and planted a kiss to his cheek. Confused as to why Jaemin didn't try anything else he looked back at him to see him with a big smile. 

"I like you too stupid." 

"Since when?" 

"Last summer? Maybe a little more before that." Before Jaemin could finish his thought a holler made both of the boys look away from each other. 

"See I told you they were in here fucking." Chenle stood in the doorway and called out to others down the hall. He was quickly pulled out of the room with a sudden appearance from Jeno. "Don't bother them!" 

The two looked back at each other, red showing on both of their faces and Jaemin sighed with a giggle. He cuddled down into the other’s neck and made himself comfortable.  

"Um...Jaemin?" 

"I'm not getting up." 

[thewayiremember]

EPISODE 1

July 5, 7:20 PM – 4 DAYS AFTER THE INCIDENT

Nathaniel Blake is lying across from me. He’s 16 years old, 5.9, 154 lbs, has no allergies, and no chronic illnesses. At least that’s what his medical chart says. How I got access to that is not important. I don’t actually know the guy, but we’ve been practically inseparable for the last couple of days. Plus, even though he hasn’t regained his consciousness yet, I’m sure he complains as much as I do about being here. He just cannot express his frustration. I have it easy. I can roll my eyes and sigh as loud as I want to. But there’s no one to see it, so, what’s the point?

Nathaniel Blake was supposed to travel across the Pacific in a couple of days for his dream vacation in Australia. He has been preparing for that trip since last summer and it was kind of a big deal because that would be his first totally independent adventure. I know that because his grandparents lament about it every time they visit. He can probably hear you. It won’t make him feel better if you keep reminding him how sad it is he won’t be able to go. His left arm is encased with a cast. Luckily, the doctors said it should heal very nicely, and that he shouldn’t have any movement difficulties afterward.

I always pretend to be asleep when he has visitors, so I have a little trouble forming opinions about his friends. He has too many. They seem like good fellas, though. The guests usually come in the mornings, which works for me cause it’s easier to play dead when you’re still tired. I know they would feel a lot less comfortable talking to him if they knew I’m awake. Plus, I wouldn’t feel comfortable looking at their sad faces, either.

I talk to Nathaniel a lot. I feel a little guilty because I can’t know for sure he even wants me to talk to him, but the silence of this place really gets to me. So I made him my friend in spite of him being unconscious. He knows me really well. He can’t tell me to shut up, so, I never do. I try not to whine too much and keep it positive to cheer him up after all that sobbing he’s forced to listen to, but I can’t always help myself. My buttcheeks hurt from not really changing this half-seated position and the wi-fi dies on me every five seconds. I have plenty to complain about.

But he’s alive. And I’m alive. So, there’s that.

It’s nice to have a friend who listens so well, but I do hope he wakes up eventually. Keeping my fingers crossed.

There’s a TV hanging from the ceiling but I don’t know how desperate I’d have to get to turn it on. The ads play every ten minutes and they’re so loud it makes me even more hyper and annoying. We don’t want that. At least I have plenty of time to meditate. No… I don’t meditate, I just watch Netflix. Though I never realized staring at the screen all day could be so exhausting. Headaches are no fun. So I have to take brakes, and then I’m left with me, myself, and this beautiful ward.

And that is not sarcasm. It’s actually really pretty. Minimalistic, by budget, or design, who cares? We can see only whites, blues, and some pink-ish whites. And the light wooden window frames on the tilted wall complement those colors very nicely. There’s not a lot of space in this room, but in my opinion, it makes it cozier. We have our own bathroom that seems clean and doesn’t give you chills when you walk in. Not that we use it much, especially not Nathaniel. And for me getting out of bed is still very challenging so I try not to drink too much so I won’t have to go to the toilet too often. I have the smallest bladder on Earth.

The sun is setting and the whole mood starts shifting. I have a wide view of the lake when I look outside the window. The water reflects all the colors of the sky. A gradient of perfectly aligned hues is breaking through the clouds. It’s insane how sexy the sky can be. Lots of blues, yellows, and purples. Do you know what else has lots of blues, yellows, and purples? My chest. Not as sexy, though.

It’s been five days since I was brought to the hospital. I can’t tell if it’s a long time or not, but I feel like the recovery isn’t gonna be as difficult as I thought it would be at the beginning. When I first woke up in this bed I could barely breathe. It felt like my ribs were all shattered into pieces and my face was so swollen I couldn’t open my left eye. The bruises aren’t really fading away just yet, but I’d say half of the pain is gone. At least I can breathe, see and eat normally.

I used to be obsessed with watching medical programs. Plastic surgeries, body transformations, treating horrifying skin conditions, but they tend to be very repetitive and predictable, so I especially liked the ones when something went wrong along the way. Like that one time, the doctors were stitching up the patient’s toes and they couldn’t bring back the blood flow. And of course, it’s probably a little scripted for the sake of the show, but they did look genuinely terrified that the toes would turn black and fall out. That was exciting. Luckily, I didn’t need any surgeries. I’m pretty much just bruised up, I think. No internal bleeding, no broken bones, but they wanted to do some more tests on me and asked me to stay for a couple more days.

My parents come to visit once a day, but somehow they manage to make this place even gloomier than when I’m alone. I’m surprised they even care. Or maybe they just feel obligated to come. Like, we barely even talk. Why are you here? I mean, I DO get it. Not everybody has to like each other, not even people blood-related. And it’s fine. We’re just very different people. And if it makes them feel better when they come to check on me, that’s cool. I feel like I am understanding, but still, I’m not gonna lie, this whole situation is very frustrating.

I am aware that the problem is more on my side, cause most of the things they say wouldn’t bother me if they were said by somebody else. Today (like every day since I’ve been here) they asked me how I was feeling. Now, if any of my friends or nurses asked about it, I’d take it as an act of caring. But when the same question is asked by my parents, in my mind I go berserk. And how do you think I’m feeling? Have you looked at my face? Even though in reality I don’t feel that bad. I don’t know where that anger comes from. Maybe because they never cared before. Why now? But I just reply, as politely as I can, that I feel OK.

10:30 PM

I wear earplugs when it’s bedtime because once it gets dark and the rest of the hospital’s asleep, the heart rate monitor that Nathaniel’s still attached to, I swear, levels up in volume. I need something to occupy my mind. I just read 100 random facts on some website and did you know that by taking just one step you use over 200 muscles in your body? That means that today I used the same 200 muscles at least 20 times in three series while I had to use the bathroom. That’s a legit workout if you ask me.

There’s a group of friends skinny-dipping in the lake. I wonder how much time it will take for them to get in trouble. They are far away from any buildings, I can barely see them myself, and there’s a pretty dense forest spreading behind the lake, but that’s no less than half a mile away. Other than that, the space is quite open.

10:45 PM

I can hear dr. Gramm talking on the phone behind the door. I swear she doesn’t sleep. Or even go home, like, ever. She’s the one who takes care of me and Nathaniel. She and the whole staff… they really seem to care. It’s nice to see them coming in here so often to make sure that we’re doing OK. And here’s the thing, Nathaniel can’t complain, and every time they check on us, they make sure to adjust his body so that he’s comfortable. Sweet.

Since I can’t actually remember what happened to me and why I’m here, after long conversations and many check-ups on me to make sure there’s no any brain damage, dr. Gramm told me that thinking out loud makes your brain work more… efficiently. She must have read those 100 random facts on the internet as well. I’m pretty sure it was a fact nr. 48.

Well, I don’t know about thinking out loud. She probably wouldn’t be happy to hear that I traveled back in time. I think I’d be put in a different kind of hospital. So, I hope keeping a journal will do just fine.

[bymoonchild]

Set On You (M)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Genre | Fluff, smut / volleyball!AU, college!AU, setter Jungkook x manager reader

Warnings | Light smut, detailed thigh-riding, thirsty nsfw thoughts, alcohol consumption, swearing and a whole lot of hopeless pining and soft moments because it’s soft uwu hours 24/7 

Word count | 18.1k

Summary | Sports has never been your thing, so when you find yourself in a sports hall that reeks of perspiration and cologne and in front of a group of volleyball players whom you’re supposed to be managing (heck, you can’t even manage your own life), you know that you’re in Deep Shit™. 

Especially when Jeon Jungkook, the golden setter of the team aka the boy who holds stars in his eyes, starts to occupy your reveries, slowly becoming both the quiet and pandemonium of your heart.  

The repeated squeaks of sneakers and harrowing smacks from the contact of palm against ball reverberate across the court, sounding awfully similar to the erratic thumping of your heartbeats, but they do nothing to drown out the thudding in your eardrums. Cowering meekly behind the door of your school’s daunting indoor sports hall, the perspiration on your palms is getting way out of hand and your legs almost threaten to take you back to your dorm, but the palpable, icy-cold air that greets you halts you in your tracks.

Clad in their renowned black and red jerseys, you watch the volleyball players manoeuvre effortlessly all over the court, giving their all to keep the ball up in the air. They almost look identical – radiating with a peculiar charisma and indomitable grit – if not for the designated numbers on their backs.  

More volts of panic pulse through your veins. You’re intimidated out of your wits, but even for a person who’s allegedly allergic to sports, you can’t deny the ferocity of their match – it’s pretty enthralling. Thinking about it, this is actually your first time catching your school’s volleyball team in action and you have to admit that their teamwork is quite something.

Sports has never been your thing, let alone volleyball. In fact, you would very much rather be cooped under your quilt in the comfort of your air-conditioned room at this very moment. How you’ve landed yourself in a humid and stinky indoor sports hall that reeks of perspiration and cloying cologne, facing a group of really tall and sweaty college boys with that signature awkward grin of yours is beyond you, and something you definitely didn’t foresee yourself doing in your second year in Seoul National University.

You should have trusted your gut feeling when you thought that agreeing to be the student manager for the school’s volleyball team to earn extracurricular points for your scholarship would be a terrible idea. Gosh, this is all on Hoseok, your English Lit seatmate and also (surprisingly) the captain of the volleyball team. Curse him and his manipulative ways of convincing people.

According to your very wise friend, 1) you desperately need to join a club ASAP because the only club you belong to is the Sunshine Club – no, it’s not a real club, it’s just a pejorative term for students who alternate between home and school, and that certainly earns you zero extracurricular points, 2) you need to get out of your comfort zone more often because this is college and in college, you fuck things up for the fun of it, and 3) a student manager could really do good for the volleyball team because the new season is starting really soon and they’re gearing up for first place this season after their demeaning loss to Hanyang University last year, oh and also, the boys have been praying everyday to have someone (new and well, fun) other than their coach on the team because the old man sure can be a little grump.

You don’t question the last point because it’s a known fact that the volleyball team is your school’s pride and joy. When they were beaten at their own game last year, the entire school went in mourning for a whole damn week. It’s pretty hilarious, the more you think about it, that the competitive sport is basically just a more intense game of “don’t let the balloon touch the floor”. But almost everyone finds the sport cool because somehow or other, the players also happen to be naturally tall and also attractive – though the latter is highly subjective and does not include your terrible friend.

Albeit not knowing the players personally and being able to match their names to their faces, you’ve seen the gang in school, perpetually flaunting their black and red jerseys that can be spotted from miles away and drawing attention to their rambunctious selves.

The number of people who admire (and worship) them don’t escape your notice too, including your smitten professors who all have a mutual soft spot for Hoseok whenever he falls behind or sleeps in class. It seems like everyone is oddly bewitched by their charms – you’ve heard stories about the appalling number of girls who’ve confessed to them and hooked up with them at parties, only because Hoseok can’t stop gloating about the increasing count. But whether they’re just plain ole rumors or facts, you’d rather not be involved in their social politics because Hoseok is your own Gossip Girl and that’s more than enough, really.

“Guys, gather up!”

Coach Kim blows his whistle and literally the entire team comes scrambling to swamp the two of you. A wave of panic washes over you, draining colour from your face as they start to look you up and down inquisitively. You’ve never felt that inferior about being vertically-challenged before, but being surrounded by a group of volleyball players who could appear to be almost a good 2 meters tall? Definitely not up your alley.

“We finally, yes, finally,” you don’t miss the enthusiasm and relief in Coach Kim’s voice, “have a student manager on the team!”

At that, everyone explodes in loud cheers, their gruff voices filling up the court and you shudder at the resonance of their voices.

“Hi,” you give a little wave to the tall towers before you, trying to make things less menacing for you. “I’m Y/N, a second-year Psychology major. Nice to meet you! I’ll be the student manager from today onwards. Hoseok dragged me here—”

“Yay, welcome Y/N!” Hoseok interrupts your intention of throwing shade at him with an overzealous whoop of excitement and his teammates divert their attention to their loud captain. “You guys be nice to her or you’ll be catching these hands.”

They all roll their eyes, before grunting out an okay. After taking turns to introduce themselves – honestly, your brain could only be loaded with so many names, you’d definitely need more time to digest and remember their faces, the players soon disperse and resume their usual rotational drills.

Turning to you with an eerily wide grin, Hoseok then leads you to the perimeter of the court and hands you a clipboard. “Okay for today, just familiarise yourself with the positions and the guys. Easy peasy, I know we’re all good-looking—”

You interrupt his narcissistic statement by faking a gag.  

“Rude! As I was saying before I was rudely cut off, we’re all good-looking, but it’s easy to distinguish us. Unless you mix Seokjin-hyung and Jungkook up, which is fine because they look quite similar. Both ugly.”

“You just said—”

“The entire team is present except for Jungkookie. He’ll come later because he’s taking a test now. When you see a tall guy who looks like an overgrown, emo baby bunny, just mark Jungkook present.”

You hum mindlessly and glance over to the guys who’ve already taken their respective positions.

“Now, now, don’t gush over the guys. They’re fucking gross. They sweat a lot and stink like rotten meat after practice.”

“As if you don’t too! I’ve sat beside you in class after your practice before and I had to hold my breath the entire class.”

“Excuse you!” He clicks his tongue in annoyance, “I’m already pretty hygienic compared to the others… Anyways, it’s too late to back out.”

“Oh shit.”

“I’m kidding! We’re really nice, a little intimidating maybe because of our heights but that’s only because you’re short as fuck, but we don’t bite… unless you want us to. Come! Let’s go through the positions together.”

Being the volleyball neophyte you are, Hoseok walks you through the various volleyball positions. You learn that there are four main positions and only six players are allowed on the court, though the entire team is 14 members strong. There are three wing spikers in total – Hoseok, Taehyung, and Yoongi – and they carry the defensive workload. Namjoon and Seokjin are the middle blockers, while Jimin is the libero who wears a different coloured jersey since he can conveniently switch in and out of the game (usually with Seokjin) and lastly, the setter, who is none other than Jungkook. Hoseok calls him the backbone of the team.

“Okay, this isn’t that hard. I can do this,” you think to yourself after Hoseok leaves to join his teammates, a dry attempt to spur yourself on.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t done much besides committing their names and faces to memory and learning about the different positions, but the first thirty minutes of practice have been going surprisingly well, until—

“Jungkookie!” Hoseok shrieks while looking past your shoulder towards the door.

“The overgrown, emo baby bunny?” You quote your friend, before turning your head to look at the latecomer.

And damn, you wish you could take back your words. Standing before you is a boy who’s unfamiliar to your sight, but a dazzling one in appearance. His hair is a black mop of soft tousled locks, his onyx eyes are doe-like and his lips take on a soft rosy pink tint.

Upon your words, Jungkook doubles over with a boyish chuckle. “Hyung! What did you call me?”

Ignoring the latter and swatting him away, Hoseok continues with a beam, “Yep, this is Jungkook, our golden setter. Great, now you’ve met everyone on the team!”

He then turns back to Jungkook, while offering you a pat on the back, “Jungkookie, meet Y/N, our new student manager. Treat her nicely or I’ll break your fingers.”

Jungkook takes offense at the threat (his dearest fingers…) and glowers at his captain. He then turns to you and you notice that his facial expressions soften for a moment, before his face starts to scrunch up. With a contrived smile, he extends out his hand, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

You draw in a furtive breath, painfully aware of how he practically looms over you.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N.”

You instantly curse yourself, red threatening to dot your cheeks because Hoseok literally just said your name like 10 seconds ago.

Even from where you’re standing, it doesn’t take much for you to notice how his eyes take on a sharp, mesmerising glow. Like stars glistening in the velvet night sky, vying to out-glow one another.

And so, you panic.

“Nice to meet the overgrown, emo baby bunny,” are the words that follow your already embarrassing introduction and you grimace upon hearing yourself, wishing to swallow your stupid words back. Your mouth just lives to sabotage you whenever you’re nervous.

The awkwardness starts to saturate the air, uncomfortable in the way it clings onto the two of you, minus Hoseok who’s drinking everything in with confusion. Jungkook’s eyes rest on your embarrassed features, blinking owlishly and this is when you know that you need to leave, stat. Embarrassed, you bite your lower lip and mutter, “I have to go… help Coach. Bye!”

Spinning on your heels skittishly, you jog past hoarse hollers of nice serve and chance ball to join Coach Kim at the sidelines and you swear you’ve never speed-walked this fast in your entire life before. It literally takes every ounce of you not to freak out even when you can still feel holes being bored on your back. Not even an hour into practice and you’ve embarrassed yourself already? So much for beating your personal record.

“Well, that was painfully awkward,” the captain taunts with a smile full of mirth.

“Urgh h-hyung, stop it!”

Besides the brainwork of remembering the players’ names and positions, your agenda of tasks also includes physical labour, much to your dismay, of refilling water bottles, picking up stray balls from all corners of the court and being in charge of the dreaded grimy storeroom aka your new hiding place away from the sausage fest outside.

You don’t really get to watch today’s full six-on-six match, too busy scrambling all over the court to gather the stray balls and when you’re finally done, the boys have taken a five and are sprawled all over the floor, grumbling loudly in fatigue.

Joining Coach Kim on the bench, your eyes sweep quickly across the court and you see Jungkook lying on the ground with his eyes closed, chest heaving up and down rhythmically in tandem with his breathing, like an empty boat blobbing on gentle early-morning waves. What catches your attention is how apparent his jersey sticks to his abdomen, slightly exposing his torso and warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink. You can’t unsee it, but you desperately want to. Beside him, Hoseok has his shirt rolled up to his chest, baring his well-sculpted front, but you don’t feel a thing. 

As if on cue, a raven black mop of dishevelled locks rises up from the ground, swiftly meeting your eyes in the process. He freezes like a rabbit caught in a snare, eyes wide and shoulders rigid. But it’s not like you’re any better. You stare back at Jungkook blankly, trying your best not to panic because he just caught you staring at him like a creep and it’s only your first day.

Uh oh.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach, so you quickly pry your eyes away because you’re that good at pretending that you didn’t see shit.

From your periphery, you realise that he’s still looking straight at you and you shudder at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden.

Eventually, you decide to muster up some courage and turn back to him. You see that his eyes are still dead set on you and this throws you off kilter. Forming a thin line on his lips, he suddenly throws himself back onto the ground with a thud, causing his teammates to rise up instantly and wonder what the heck is wrong with their setter.

The way Jungkook stares at you remains etched in your mind even after practice. If this is what you’re going to face three times a week from today onwards, you’re going to need all the luck you can have and probably also some calming tea for your unsettling nerves.  

You arrive at the sports hall punctually the next practice, a tad excited, albeit the nerves in your stomach. Instead of reporting straight to Coach Kim, you decide to greet the few players who are already warming up, but almost retract your footsteps when you see Jungkook part of the warm-up circle.

He’s already staring at you with that same gaze of his, but the boys don’t sense your hesitance and beckon you to join them. It’s a little too late to back away, so you saunter over with a bubbly façade, ignoring the fact that Jungkook is still relentlessly boring holes onto your face.

“Hey!” Taehyung chirps and scoots over to make space for you. “Sit here, Y/N!”

“Hi Y/N!”

“Did you come from class?” Hoseok pipes, spinning a volleyball with his finger.

“Yeah, it ended 10 minutes ago.”

“H-Hi.”

You hear a soft murmur beside you and turn your head, only to meet Jungkook and his brown doe eyes. Seated only inches away from you, his breath fans out across your cheek and warmth scatters over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh at the proximity. He doesn’t break eye contact with you for few seconds, as if you two are the only ones in the court, before he blinks away and continues stretching like he didn’t just stutter.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you mutter in a slight daze of confusion, wincing when your words come off as a gasp, so you quickly turn back to somewhere safe – to the sight of Hoseok doing push-ups with the derpiest face ever. If Jungkook has heard your silly gasp, he’s sure being really nice for not laughing about it or bringing it up.

Once Coach Kim finally enters the court, you run up to him in relief because you’re dying to break away from Jungkook’s gaze, and Hoseok invites you to join their discussion about the strategies for their practice match. Foreign terms like “quicks”, “back-row attacks” and “jump float serves” are being strewn around vivaciously, but you dutifully scribble whatever you could decipher on your clipboard, though the technicalities are starting to get pretty overwhelming.

Mid-way into the discussion, a particular chuckle floats over to your direction and you can’t help but draw your gaze to the middle of the court. You see Jungkook goofing around with his teammates, spinning a volleyball deftly with his hands, and the edges of your lips curl up at the sight of him having fun. It’s strange how he’s so uptight whenever he’s around with you, all rigid limbs and awkward glances.

Practice starts promptly after the discussion and things start to change half an hour into practice, contrary to their chill warm-up session. Taking their respective positions, nobody’s cracking jokes or slacking off, all committed to ensuring that the ball stays afloat and honing their skills.

The shift in Jungkook’s demeanour is especially evident to you. From the shy and awkward boy he is around you, he’s now focused and charismatic. His gaze doesn’t break away from the ball, always on the lookout and poised to set.

The boys practice for another two hours, constantly refining their moves and providing feedback to one another. Besides listening to Coach Kim’s never-ending commentary and laments about the boys, you also move around the perimeter to observe each player and take notes on your clipboard.

You somehow find yourself standing near the net, where Jungkook is positioned in his fully immersed glory. Hoseok calling him the backbone of the team comes to mind. After researching more about the different positions, you’re aware that the setter controls the flow of the game and orchestrates the attacks, but what intrigues you more is knowing that Jungkook is one of the best setters in the zone. You wonder if he’s really that amazing as what they make him to be, so you decide to take a break from your clipboard and pay full attention to the boy in front of you.

The ball arches over the net from the opposing team and Jimin springs into action, diving on the ground without hesitation. He grunts loudly when he manages to save it, pumping it back up in the air. A rolling receive, you recognise. From behind, one of his teammates screams an exasperated “nice save”.

The ball glides over to where Jungkook’s at and he extends his arms, as if inviting it to rest in his cupped hands. You can’t help but be mesmerised by his figure that’s positioned at a breath’s gap from the net, his back arching into a parabolic shape and thigh muscles rippling as he uses just one hand to slightly push the ball over the net with great aplomb. His effortless move sends the ball diving straight onto the ground, untouched by his stunned teammates from the other side.  

“A dump!” Taehyung hollers excitedly, “Holy fuck!”

“What the fuck, Kook!” Namjoon from the opposing team shouts in frustration, but seems to be equally impressed by Jungkook’s sly move. “You’re a devil.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle at their dumfounded reactions and the edges of your lips quirk up involuntarily. His sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his dark eyes sparkle with intensity. He looks almost idyllic being on the court, phenomenal even – it’s like he belongs there, like he was born to play and shine on the court.

There’s something about his contented smile that’s enamouring – there’s something warm, soft and child-like beneath it. Something very much like a young boy playing hide-and-seek, hidden deep within him and hoping to be discovered and resurrected.

His smile is a nice sight.  

The match resumes and you continue to observe how the setter receives the ball and tosses it to his teammates with impeccable control and precision. The way his fingers cup the volleyball doesn’t go past your notice and you gulp when your eyes land on his veiny arms.

A warm tingling feeling courses to your own fingertips. You wonder how holding his hand would feel like and similar thoughts continue to invade your mind throughout the entire practice.

The following practices fly by in a blur.

You’re on the bench with Coach Kim, your clipboard in hand. You’ve soon found joy in analysing the skills of each player and coming up with strategies, and this is evident from your clipboard that’s now filled up with your messy handwriting. The exciting game of volleyball is really starting to grow on you, though what’s more captivating is watching the setter shine on the court.

Jungkook is a silent and calculating setter who pinpoints his tosses with an eerie tactical accuracy. He’s especially meticulous in estimating the average height of each spiker’s jumps and he knows how to change the speed and altitude of his tosses to complement each teammate, leaving no room for mistakes.

While you’re realising all these by yourself, the guys are still fighting it out on the court, engrossed in the last set of the practice match and Jungkook’s team is in the lead. It’s against his own teammates, but the setter’s competitive burn doesn’t seem to know when to stop, boundless when it comes to the things he’s passionate about. This isn’t exclusive to just him though – his teammates seem to have picked up his vigour too, all firing with extra vitality. It isn’t surprising as all of their efforts are dedicated to winning the championships this season.  

Seeing how the game is never coming to an end because they’ve been at match point for the last five minutes and neither team is letting their guard down, you excuse yourself from the game to refill their water bottles. Seokjin decides to join you when he watches you leave. Jimin has stepped in for the last few minutes of the set and you thank him for his help because carrying 14 water bottles is not an easy task.

From the corner of his eye, Jungkook sees you returning to the court with their water bottles hugged to your chest and he wishes he could run over to help you. But when Seokjin appears behind you, sharing a laugh with you, an unfamiliar feeling pools in his stomach – something about the sight of you laughing with his teammate puts him off. He doesn’t like it, but he softens at how brightly and effortlessly your face lights up. Seokjin’s probably telling you one of his overused dad jokes.

Sharp curses and flustered yells of Jungkook’s name fly through the air, but there’s barely enough time for him to process what is going on. He registers the blur of yellow and blue spinning in a few centimeters away from his face and before he knows it, he’s crashing on the cold hard ground from the impact.

A yelp escapes from the back of his throat. He feels like his nose just did a full-on pancake save on the ground. The middle of his face is throbbing in pain and his vision starts to blur from the tears at the edges of his eyes.  

“Jungkook, what the heck were you doing!” Coach Kim bellows and jogs over to check up on him, his creased forehead is evidence that he’s in disbelief that the golden setter is actually capable of being distracted during a match.

The blazing blur of blue and yellow is soon replaced with shadowy looming figures and gasps of horror.

“Gosh, your nose is as red as Angry Bird,” Taehyung pipes in and chortles with his phone in hand. “What the fuck, I need to capture this. This is blackmail material.”

“Dude! What was that about?” Hoseok kneels down, a tad amused by the situation. “You’re normally not like this, who were you looking at?”

“Guys, guys! Give him some space…”

A lulling voice emerges amidst the insults mercilessly thrown at his injured self and Jungkook relaxes a little.

Easing your way to the front, you squat beside him, wincing at the sight of the bloody gash. A single line of blood trickles down his jaw and then to his neck, causing a red seam on his jersey.

“Okay, kids! Thank god that we have a manager now. Y/N will take care of Jungkook and his bloody face, so get back to practice!”

You offer him a little smile as he stares at you wide-eyed silently.

“Jungkook? You’re okay. You’re fine, it doesn’t look that bad,” you coo reassuringly, hoping to lessen the pain that’s evident from his contorted expression.

Pressing the back of his hand to his nose to wipe away the blood, Jungkook flushes pink, as if his face isn’t red enough already. Besides the stinging pain on his face, he feels his heart beating a merciless staccato rhythm. He already has trouble breathing from the blood in his nostrils, but all air rushes out of him when you inch even closer to assess the damage and he shuts his eyes in panic.

“I’ll take you to the nurse after you’re all cleaned up.”

Jungkook grunts in response. With careful fingers, you cradle the back of his head and push away his sweaty bangs with your other hand, before gently wiping the area around his nose. Slowly reopening his eyes, he gazes at you quietly and you avoid eye contact with him at all costs, but you shiver involuntarily when the warmth of his breath graces your arm.

At this close of a distance, you can count the long eyelashes that frame Jungkook’s large orbs, the crooked bunny teeth that appear when he winces, the little mole under his lips and the faint scar on his right cheek that mars his otherwise unblemished and fair skin. His hair also feels soft as it tickles the back of your hand and you’re so tempted to thread your fingers through them. You have to physically shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts.

“Okay… Slowly…” You slip out of Jungkook’s hold as he settles on the edge of an empty bed in the school clinic and the nurse approaches you two without a word, as though injuries like these are an everyday occurrence.  

“Does it still hurt?”

“Not as bad as before,” he mumbles bashfully, peeking at you through his lashes and you instantly want to melt into a puddle on the floor, especially since there’s less blood, people and space. It’s just the two of you now.

Noticing that you’re standing awkwardly by the door, he pats the space beside him and you move over, actually tired from the whole ordeal.

You two make some small talk while waiting for the nurse to return. You learn that Jungkook is in his second year too, a Computer Science major, and you tell him that you’ve never seen him in school before though the Social Sciences faculty is right beside his.

“I think I’m kind of low-key?” He states and you raise an eyebrow. He is definitely not low-key. There are probably girls gushing over him at this very instance.

“I’m always in class or at practice. Okay, I spend 30 percent of my life in class, 60 percent at practice and the last 10 percent in my room,” he explains animatedly, flinging his hands to gesture how he divides his time.

You try not to sputter into a fit of laughter, but laughter pokes its way across glassy eyes and pink cheeks when Jungkook scrunches his nose at his words.

“But I think I’ve seen you in school before? Your faculty always has fundraiser activities going on. And you performed for a talent show before, didn’t you? My friend dragged me to your faculty’s talent show. You sang an Adele song right?”

“Oh,” you squeak, a little too high to your liking, red finding its way up your cheeks. You’re nonplussed and a little touched that he remembers you from the other talented and pretty female contestants because they’re so many girls around him and you’re just… well, you’re just you.

“Oh my god, I probably sounded terrible,” you grimace, hand flying up to cover your face in embarrassment.

“No, you didn’t! I remembered your performance because it was that good.”

“R-Really?

He hums in response. 

“Okay… thank you, I guess?” You look down at your fingers awkwardly. “That’s really nice of you.”

A chuckle escapes his lips. “No – thank you. Coach would have just left me bleeding on the ground if it wasn’t for you.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well. Before you know it, he has his hand up, gingerly ruffling your hair and your entire body instantly stiffens, as if zapped by electricity. Muted colours of soft pastels swirl in your head. You think that his touch on your head might actually burn more than his squashed nose.

“No problem, Jungkook.”

It’s been a month since you joined the volleyball team as their student manager and now your existence alternated between school, your dorm and the sports hall, but you’re actually enjoying every bit of it.

It’s a Tuesday, which means there’s no volleyball practice, but you’re heading to the sports hall to clean up the storeroom and do some administrative stuff for their upcoming friendlies.  

“Y/N!”

Looking up at the direction of the familiar voice, your eyes land on Jungkook who’s smiling at you and you stop in your tracks. You drink in the sight of him in a white T-shirt, ripped light blue jeans and a denim jacket. It’s nothing over the top, but he looks stunning regardless and you have to curb the lingering wisps of excitement brewing in your stomach.

This is probably the first time seeing Jungkook in school. Ever since his bloody nose incident, the two of you have started to become less uptight with each other and are now friends, if you choose to omit the awkward stares, flustered cheeks and sweaty palms. Just friends, nothing more or less.

You wave to him, trying your best to hide your surprised expression. He has never approached you directly during practice, let alone in the hallway. 

“Where are you headed to?” He breaks the distance between you and him in less than five strides.  

“I’m just going to clean up the storeroom. You?”

“Clas—oh actually, I was about to practice my tosses too.”

“Don’t you have class?”

“Um, no I don’t?”

“But you were just walking in the other direction, away from the sports hall.” You raise an eyebrow and tilt your head.  

This stops him cold. He can’t place your expression exactly – it’s a cross between amusement and confusion and this makes him even more torn between wanting to continue lying so he can go to the sports hall with you and dropping the act and running away to save himself from further embarrassment. He chooses neither.

“Okay fine, you caught me. Can we… let’s just go to the sports hall together?”

How and why is a mystery, but you find yourself nodding your head in acquiescence.    

Walking beside Jungkook is anxiety-inducing, as if you aren’t nervous enough around the said boy on a regular basis. As you pass through the hallway of blur figures, you pick up a whiff of Jungkook’s scent – it’s a comforting, clean fresh laundry scent that rests pleasantly on your nose. The soft material of his denim jacket is ticklish as it brushes against your arm, sending your heart ricocheting even more furiously in your ribcage.

There’s always been something about Jungkook that makes you feel… alive, you realise.  

It’s the little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours, be it casually and intentionally and the momentary halting of your heartbeat and the fluster that attacks you without a warning whenever he gazes at you. It’s the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he’s smiling and his mellifluous laughs – both soft and loud ones – when he’s cackling up with the guys that never fail to render you breathless.

You hate how you always magically transform into an incoherent fool every time you come in contact with him. But no matter how times he has caused your heart to stop for the briefest of moments, you don’t regret the lovely loss because you’ll gladly succumb to any pain, fuzzy feeling or ramification that Jungkook brings – just because, as strange as it sounds, you like it.

You don’t realise that you’ve held your breath the entire walk to the sports hall until you reach the storeroom and that was only possible after persuading the insistent Jungkook that you don’t need his help with clearing the cabinets.

When you’re done after spending an hour in the stuffy storeroom, you find Jungkook spiking the balls against the wall in his sports attire. You swallow hard when your eyes trail down to his accentuated butt that looks too good for his own good and his thighs that flex dangerously when he moves. Your cheeks sear with embarrassment that’s hot enough to burn away your lewd thoughts.

For someone who’s painfully shy and cannot toss a ball for pity’s sake, you cannot fathom where you get the sudden surge of courage, but your mouth decides to take matters into its own hands and blurt out something along the lines of “Hey, want me to toss the ball to you?”.

You hate how your voice rises in the end, turning into an awkward squeak, but he seems to find it adorable if his dazed look is anything to go by.

Eagerly taking you up on your offer, the two of you soon fall into a comfortable pattern – you’d toss the ball to Jungkook for him to practice his tosses and spikes and this continues till the volleyball crate is emptied out. Sometimes you don’t toss high enough and he’ll laugh at your fail attempts, but he’s always patient with you and even teaches you the proper way of tossing the way with the correct push. Heck, you didn’t even know that there was a correct way of tossing a freaking ball.

After what seems like 10 hours, you sit down to catch your breath, slightly embarrassed by your lack of stamina because Jungkook looks like he can go on for another 10, looking as impeccable as ever. When he runs a hand through his hair with that lopsided smile of his, it leaves you even more short of breath. It’s as though he’s doing this on purpose.

His fitted shirt is drenched with sweat, cruelly sticking to his abs and you gulp when your eyes trail down to his thighs. The fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin, revealing the harsh lines and sculpted muscles of his thighs. And you really need to curb your obsession for his thighs, because it’s getting way out of hand and you’ll skin yourself alive if he ever finds out about it.

“Hey, you tired?” Jungkook trudges over to sit beside the stoned you, playing with the ball in his hands.

“Oh no no, I’m okay,” you lie blatantly and begin to stand up, but he stops you.

“It’s okay, I’m pretty beat too. Want to grab some food? I’m actually really hungry.”

He looks at you with a painfully familiar glint swimming in his corneas and your breathing stutters violently at the sight.

Listen, you don’t know if you can survive being this close to him, but you decide to fuck it when Hoseok’s words echo in your mind: you need to get out of your comfort zone more often – go and fuck things up.

Deciding to heed his stupid advice, you shoot Jungkook a smile, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Somehow or other, you two end up eating at a convenience store near campus because ramen after practice is always a good decision.

“So, um, how’s school?” Jungkook starts off, picking up his noodles with regalement, but deadpans upon realising how lame he sounds.

“How’s school?” You repeat with a bemused tone, chuckling at his dry attempt at making small talk.

“I mean like… tell me about yourself? Like how’s school been like for you… Urgh, this is so embarrassing.”

He groans loudly and buries his head in his palms and then peeks at your face through the spaces in between his fingers. His heart swells like never before at your smile and the tinges of amusement dancing in your orbs.

A highly ranked and skilled setter he might be, but Jungkook knows no shit when it comes to his strange, burgeoning feelings for you. He wishes that feelings could be more like volleyball – systematic, clear-cut, and guaranteed a clear, satisfying view if you try hard enough. Human emotions bring along this ambiguity that he’s scared of approaching. He isn’t sure if he is capable of understanding it, but there’s always a first time for everything.

You laugh dryly, “I’m always clueless when I’m supposed to talk about myself. I guess I’m just a normal person with normal dreams and normal hobbies?”

He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, nervous as heck from the way he’s looking at you so attentively with a soft smile.

You continue, “Okay, I don’t really have a hobby and I spend a lot of time by myself in my room. I know I’m lame.”

“No, it doesn’t! If it makes you feel better, I feel normal too. With normal dreams and hobbies.”

A corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation. “Being the golden setter of SNU’s volleyball team and probably the best in this entire zone isn’t quite my definition of normal. Now I feel even more boring.”

“No! Urgh… You’re not boring. If you were, I wouldn’t be here listening to you – I swear. And I have a limited patience for boring people… like Coach. God, he is the most boring person in the world.”

“You’re just being nice to me.”

Jungkook shakes his head fervently and your heart gnaws at how disconcerted he is –he’s trying so hard to make you feel better about yourself that it’s endearing.

“Being normal is great, but there’s nothing normal about normal I feel? And you… you’re a special kind of normal. You’re nice, smart, funny, sometimes pretty awkward but still not as awkward as me, so you’re not that bad.”

You chuckle sheepishly, but your smile fades away when he shoots you a longing look before muttering under his breath, “And you make me feel normal.”

His brown eyes glimmer in the hazy streetlights, highlighting the caramel flecks in them. Your eyes dart between his soft expression and his fingers that are drumming against the table.

“Me?” You squeak, startled by Jungkook’s sudden confession. Your mouth drops agape, but it’s quickly overridden by a shy smile when you observe how the little blush on his cheeks has receded to make camp on his ears, the glint in his eyes brighter.  

“Yeah. When I’m with you, I feel normal. Not a volleyball player or the golden setter. Just me, Jeon Jungkook.”

Heat sits high on your cheeks as his words linger in your ears. The world seems to hang suspended, out of space and out of time. You try to find your voice but your tongue is suddenly terribly numb, so the two of you continue to sit in silence, staring at one another and enjoying the swim of your heads.

That night, Jungkook walks you back to your dorm and you give him a hug before saying your dreadful goodbye – a lilting whisper of good night Kook.

Hugging isn’t uncommon with the team because they’re strangely big on hugs and being their manager means that you’re their personal teddy bear that they can crush after a long tiring practice. But you don’t miss how you hug Jungkook a little tighter and longer compared to the casual ones you share with the others, relishing the warmth of the sweet honey gold that pulses through his veins. To your surprise, he wraps his arms around you as well and the two of you stay in that position for awhile in the quiet of the night. The way his broad chest heaves up and down alongside his slow, steady humming heartbeat serves nothing but as a solace to you.

You feel safe in his arms.

There is truth that you think Jungkook is cute, that you couldn’t deny, alongside the emotionally-constipated but quiet and sincere ways he cares for the people around him. He’s sincere, doesn’t sugar-coat his words and can also be quite the jokester. He doesn’t flirt excessively and make you feel uncomfortable nor does he do anything particularly extravagant to get your heart racing, but your heart still runs a fucking marathon nonetheless.

That night, you only manage to fall asleep after spending hours trying to counter your own thoughts and coax the erratic slamming of your heart against your chest. He’s a child of the cosmos. You wonder if he sings lullabies and waltzes with the stars in his slumber.

You wonder if the stars look at him in defeat, envious of the way he outshines them all. The effulgence he possesses beats the brilliance of all the other stars.

In between shy glances and awkward banter sessions, Jeon Jungkook has slowly become both the quiet and pandemonium of your heart.  

That night, Jungkook’s phone blows up with messages from his teammates and he’s this close to throwing his phone on the wall and strangling them with his bare heads, seniority and all be damned.

[minie hyung] [22:49] jungkookie is getting it [22:49] with y/n our lovely manager!!! 2 qt pies   [22:49] [Image]

[best captain in the world] [22:49] damn kid [22:49] it’s only been 2 weeks   [22:50] and i didn’t ask y/n to join the team so that you could hit on her??

[jungkook] [22:50] guys wtf I’m not hitting on her!!! [22:50] we’re just friends [22:50] and wtf jimin hyung where were you??? when did you take that pic?

[minie hyung] [22:51] when you 2 were busy staring at each other!! [22:51] i was just walking back home and passed by the store bcs I WAS HUNGRY [22:51] but you were too engrossed in looking at each other and being lovey dovey to notice me but what’s new

[yeontan’s dad] [22:51] y/n’s hella cute tho

[grumpa hyung] [22:52] yeah, really pretty and smart too

[jungkook] [22:52] lmaO say wAT [22:54] she’s mine, just saying [22:55] back the fuck off

[joonie hyung] [22:55] “we’re just friends” he said

[handsome hyung] [22:56] aww our kookie has a crush !! who knew that you were capable of feelings

[jungkook] [22:57] well someone has to take ONE for the team

[best captain in the world] [22:57] wrong interpretation of the phrase kid. [22:58] you just insulted y/n, i’m telling on you

[jungkook] [22:58] NO HYUNG PLEASE DON’T [22:58] I’M SORRY ☹ Y/N PLEASE ☹☹☹ [23:01] hyung????

“So… you and Jungkook, huh?”

Hoseok plumps his ass down dramatically onto the seat beside yours and you, for the nth time, regret choosing that seat on the fifth row on the first day of your English Lit class. Who the hell would have known that you’d sit beside the pesky and loud-as-fuck volleyball captain and end up being extremely good buddies?

“Me and Jungkook?” You tilt your head, though you already have an inkling of what he’s going to bring up. You just wish that he wouldn’t tease you too much about it.

“Yeah, you two have been awfully and shadily close nowadays. You know you’re all that he talks about, right?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach at his last sentence. You had no idea at all.

Hoseok catches the flush that runs all the way down to your neck and simpers at your speechless self who’s currently mindlessly picking at your food and avoiding all eye contact.

“And the sexual tension between you two is real. Don’t think the team hasn’t realised. It’s our favourite thing to talk about now. Besides talking about our sexcapades, that is.”

“What the fuck? I totally did not want to know that.”

Shooting him an incredulous glare, you throw a fry at him. The thought of Jungkook engaging in hook-ups bothers the heck out of you and you want to vent all your frustration on your meddlesome friend. You wonder if Jungkook’s as nice to other girls as he is to you, and if there’s another hapless girl who’s in the same plight as you. The thought of it makes you sick.

“Okay, but you must have noticed how intensely Jungkook looks at you. Like he wants to eat you up. Or out.”

“Oh my god, can you not say that so loudly?”

“I speak nothing but the truth, girl.”

“Shu—”

“Speaking of the devil, look who we have here? Your lover boy!” Hoseok guffaws.

Fate is really pulling strings to get the two of you together.

You tilt your head upwards and amidst the bustling students, you spot half of the volleyball team in the middle of the cafeteria – they probably decided to grab lunch together before practice – and then your eyes land on Jungkook, who’s already looking at you with his doe eyes and boyish smile. He’s dressed in his signature look – his favourite oversized black hoodie that practically drowns his physique and grey sweatpants – and damn does he look dashing.

“Guys, over here!”

Hoseok hollers as loud as he can, much to your dismay, diverting all attention to your table and you squirm in your seat with a defeated sigh. As they make their way over, you focus on stuffing your food in your mouth, so you can hurry get the fuck out of here. But before you know it, a tray is settled beside yours and of course, it belongs to none other than Jungkook.

You scowl at your tray, knowing that the guys have obviously left that particular seat empty for Jungkook. From your periphery, he slides into the seat beside yours and your entire body tenses up. Despite having gone out for a meal with him before, you still don’t think you can handle the proximity.

He greets you with a hi and you nod back in response. He has no idea of how his mere presence fills your veins with electricity.

The boys soon fall into a conversation about their rivalry with the other schools and throwing a party before finals to relieve some stress and frustration – you honestly wonder what kind of frustration they’re talking about here.

Sitting with the volleyball players – even just half of the team – for lunch makes you wonder how the heck you agreed to becoming their manager and how you’re still with them because they’re so rowdy and embarrassing. You’d probably feel intimidated by them if you didn’t know them personally, but look at yourself now: you’re part of the team and also hopelessly crushing on their setter, who happens to be sitting right beside you.

“Oh right, Y/N! I have something to show you,” Hoseok coos from across you, wagging his eyebrows suggestively with a sparkle of mirth in his orbs. Interest rekindled, you urge him to spill and he fishes out for his phone from his pocket. At this, you notice Jungkook tense up instantly.

After scrolling through his phone for a few seconds, Hoseok beckons you to lean forward with a shit-eating grin and you have a hunch about what he’s up to.

“The other day, Kookie said some things in the group chat that you might want to see.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook flares up beside you, lurching forward across the width of the table and snatching the phone from Hoseok’s grip before you could even look at the screen properly. “Fuck hyung, you’re such a snake!”

Hoseok only shrugs casually. You have to battle Jungkook yourself if you want to pursue the matter.

“Jungkook, what’s on his phone? Why can’t you show me?”

“Um, i-it’s a secret!” He panics, holding the phone high up and out of your reach.

Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you try to grab it, but Jungkook’s hand is so fucking long that you can’t get the phone within your fingertips regardless of how high you reach out.

“Kook!” You lament, leaning forward to weasel your way to find out why he’s being so shady, but he doesn’t let up and holds the gadget even further away from your reach.

Caught in a frenzy, you don’t realise how your boobs are pressed against his left arm and your other hand is propped onto Jungkook’s thigh. How and when it happened is nebulous. It’s only when your fingers find themselves kneading his thigh that you realise the dire situation you’re in.

Dragging your eyes down to where your hand is at, you halt when you realise that it’s centimetres away from his crotch. Any careless movement and you’ll be brushing against Jungkook’s dick and this very thought sends a small jolt through your body.

Fuck.

The fact that he’s wearing those grey sweats of his doesn’t make things any better as they’re proudly flaunting the distinct outline of his bulge prodding at his sweatpants. Gulping down hard, your whole body freezes up blankly.

Seconds stretch into infinity. When Jungkook realises that you’ve stop persisting, he absentmindedly turns to you and is met with a dangerous view of your cleavage conveniently pressed up against him. But he soon grasps that this isn’t the sole reason why you’ve turned paralysed. When his eyes follow your gaze and find that your hand is milliseconds away from his bulge, he flings Hoseok’s phone onto the table.

“Oh my god, fuck I’m so sorry Jungkook.”

You withdraw your hand away instantly and pry your eyes away from his crotch, though you can’t stop thinking about his bulge. Flopping back into your seat, your limbs turn into goo. You’re definitely going to hell.

He looks up to meet your eyes, fumbling frantically over his words. He wants to bury himself alive.

“It’s ok—I, um, it’s fine, Y/N. It’s okay. Shit—”

He trails off awkwardly and you almost choke at the congealing tension in the air. You swear you could slice it with a knife and then use the same knife to cut Hoseok apart because your friend sure is a devil.

“Gross. Can you guys stop flirting with each other in front of us?” Jimin pipes and you dart your eyes to across the table and see that everyone has their eyes fastened upon the two of you with amused expressions. You close your eyes and wince – maybe if you close your eyes long enough, you’ll disappear into thin air.

Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly and stares hard at his food. He takes a little peek at his crotch and dies a little more inside upon realising that he’s popped a boner in the fucking cafeteria just from your touch. Fingers tugging down the hem of his hoodie, he hopes that you wouldn’t look down and notice it.

The next few minutes of lunch pass by agonisingly with you fuming silently in your chair, looking more like an aggravated hamster than anything with your flustered face and crease on your forehead.

Every time Hoseok reaches over to pet your head, he’s attacked by an icy glare and a hard kick to his shin from the boy sitting two seats opposite him. But he also notices how Jungkook melts at the roses flaring across your cheeks. He’s so whipped. Their golden setter is so fucking whipped and he has no clue what to do about it.

It’s D-20 to the start of the season. The team needs to kick their training into high gear if they want to be ready in time for their first official match and that means absolutely no slacking and only two hundred percent during training and friendlies.

That goes the same for you too. You’ve been busy coming up with strategies for each player and organising friendlies with neighbouring schools. It’s hard to arrange friendlies due to time constraints and it took you tons of phone calls and paperwork, but you manage to secure a session with Hongik University just before the start of the season.

You’re just returning to the sports hall after walking the Hongik team to their bus when a loud bedlam from inside catches your attention. Rushing into the sports hall, you see the SNU players huddled in a circle, tension evident in the air. Arms are being recklessly thrown about and bodies are being shoved.

Squinting your eyes, you take in the breadth of the agitated shoulders and your stomach drops when your mind registers the number 9 on the jersey.

Jungkook.

A wave of panic hits you square in the chest. From where you’re standing, you watch Taehyung grab him on the shoulders to calm him down. The setter retaliates by flinging his arm, turning to your direction in the process. He is livid, cheeks flushed red with eyebrows furrowed as he proceeds to grab another teammate by the collar.

Number 1.

Hoseok.

This sends your stomach flying into a sequence of contortions.

You’ve never seen Jungkook this furious before, normally so composed with his feelings. This very sight gets your blood rushing frenziedly, especially how he’s this close to socking Hoseok in the face – Hoseok, his captain whom he respects so much.

Ignoring the fear that catches in your throat and freezes the breath in your lungs, your legs take you across the court as fast as they can.

Jungkook freezes and drops his fists instantly when he spots you approaching. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice and under your worried gaze, he feels the world crumble at his feet. He feels like he’s the shittiest person in the entire world.

You reach out for him with unsteady fingers, but he recoils at the slightest touch of your fingertips, distress and chagrin all over his face. A series of frustrated grunts and curses escapes his lips before he stomps off the court with heavy footsteps, ignoring the concerned looks of his teammates as he barrels out of the door and slams it shut.

You stare blankly at the door, bombarded with a tumult of conflicted emotions. You contemplate running after him, but you understand that Jungkook probably wants some alone time to cool down. So you choose not to, staying behind to check on Hoseok while the others fill you in about the argument.

“I kept missing Jungkook’s tosses and he got mad at himself for not tossing high enough for me, but it’s not even his fault,” Taehyung explains apprehensively. “He was in a bad mood throughout the match, so we lost. After that, Hoseok-hyung went to talk to him and Jungkook started lashing it out on him.”

His lips quiver at the thought of him causing the argument, so you put your hand on his shoulder and offer him a small smile.

“Y/N, check on him for me, please?” Hoseok walks towards you and pats your back softly. You could only nod, because knowing the setter, he’s probably beating himself up right now.

Torn ligaments, twisted joints and sore shoulders: they all heal with time, but disappointing the team is a heavy weight to carry, especially for setters.

It’s the setter’s role to bring out the best of their teammates, to know each of their strengths and weaknesses and adapt accordingly to each player’s skills. And it’s also the setter’s fault if his teammates keep missing his tosses. It’s his fault for their loss today.

Jungkook’s limbs feel so heavy that it’s as though he’s carrying the weight of the world. No one is blaming him. Not to his face, at least. But he knows that he has led them down and his self-deprecating thoughts are so loud that he can literally drown in them. He might look like a dense guy, but there’s a tenacious hurricane living in his mind.

Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth and locks his fists, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill. Maybe if he practices harder, maybe if he doesn’t fuck up that often, maybe if he disappears, the team will be better—

“Hey Kook.”

He snaps out of his trance when his ears perk up at the familiar voice. Blinking his tears away, he sees you with the same concerned gaze and feels a sharp tug at his heartstrings at the very sight of your worried expression.

You lower yourself to meet him and press a cool water bottle to his forehead. The sudden coldness makes him look up and the tugs soon multiply rapidly when you smile softly at him, moving to sit beside him.

You don’t talk for a good three minutes, letting the silence weave itself comfortably into the spaces between you two. You don’t really know what to say and you don’t want to force him to talk either.

“You’re always saving my ass.”

Jungkook shatters the unnerving silence with a sigh.

Your lips curl up at his attempt of lightening up the mood. “Maybe that’s because I’m your manager?”

All hardness of his features soon disappear and he looks like a scared bunny. Honestly, you just want to give him a tight hug until you take away all his sorrows.

“I mean, beyond being our manager… You always seem to be around whenever I mess up. You’re like my personal cheerleader,” Jungkook laughs.

His laughter is a sweet symphony to your ears, prompting a small bubble of laughter to escape your lungs too. “Out of all things, I especially don’t want to be your personal cheerleader.”

Your relationship with Jungkook has developed by leaps and bounds over the past few months. From being awkward strangers who could barely hold eye contact for more than two seconds, to a cordial manager-player relationship, and to the good friends (minus the bashful smiles, burning cheeks and occasional NSFW thoughts) who look out for each other that you are today. It’s amazing how much you two have opened up to each other.

“Y/N, do you think I’m self-centred?” He asks suddenly. “I’m sorry that you had to see me like… this. I wished I had a better control of my emotions, but sometimes it’s just really hard, you know…”

His words clog in his throat and he swallows them meekly.

Your heart gnaws at the way he views himself.

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re not self-centred, Kook. In fact, you’re one of the most selfless people I know. And I know it’s hard – it’s normal to feel frustrated. Everyone’s feeling the pressure, but your feelings are valid even on bad days.”

“So… you’re not going to scold me for picking a fight with my teammates? With Hoseok-hyung?”

“You think I came here to do that?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles and looks away glumly.

“Don’t be silly,” you nudge him softly, urging him to turn towards you. “I came here because I know that you feel responsible for losing today. You’re angry at yourself for Taehyung’s slip-up.”

“Y-You know? How?”  

“Hmm, I notice a lot of things about you, Kook. You just don’t realise it.”

An acknowledgment between a whine and a ‘hmm’ escapes from the setter’s lips, so quizzical and innocent that he sounds like a bunny.

“It’s just… I’m the setter and I’m supposed to be the core of the team so if we don’t do well, it’s on me. It’s my fault… I just don’t want to disappoint them.”

The remainder of Jungkook’s sentence dies on the tip of his tongue as he shuts his eyes, remembering the commotion he caused.

“But it’s not your fault, you know that right?”

“I—”

“Do you know how much the team looks up to you? You’re indispensable. The guys depend on your skills, your experiences and trust in them. Yes, the team could have done this and that – a lot of things could have been improved – but we shouldn’t be focusing on the could haves. This is why we practice and practice. You’ll do better next time, I’m sure.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because,” you turn to him, settling your hand on top of his. “You are Jeon Jungkook and all of your teammates have faith in you. Myself included.”

“You?” Stupefied, his voice comes out as a soft whisper.

“I’m your teammate too, right? Oh, and also your personal cheerleader. I mean, this title was kind of forced on me but I’ll take it if it makes you smile – just like how you’re smiling right now.”

Jungkook merely shakes his head with a soft smile and raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you. He chuckles when you jump slightly, displaying his bunny teeth in their full glory and though you would have liked to stare a little longer, you have to stop yourself, so you avert your gaze. The pink flush threatening to dot your cheeks is lethal and you can’t afford Jungkook knowing your true feelings.  

He then squirms closer, eliminating any space in between you two, and rests his weight on you. Before you know it, he’s lowering his head on your shoulder and your heart soars at the intimacy.  

He feels warm beside you. He’s always mysteriously warm and it’s the kind of warmth that brings you nothing but comfort. You resist the urge to press closer against him and tilt your head to match his, still too stricken to move a muscle. He continues fidgeting, until his nose finds the crook of your shoulder.

“It’s nice,” Jungkook murmurs and you almost don’t catch it.  

“What’s nice?”

“That you’re here.”

Golden stardust bursts within you upon his words, doing absolutely nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of your chest, but you try to conceal the joy in your voice.

“Well, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Until I get sick of managing you idiots, but I also need extracurricular points, so I’ll still be here, whether you like it or not.”

“I like it.”

Lowering his gaze to the ground, he repeats with an earnestness that wakes up the hummingbird of your heart with a gentle pat on its head. “I like it a lot.”

You can almost imagine Jungkook serenading it with a lullaby – you know he would.

There’s no denying the sudden lightheaded feeling you get from the sweet calm of his presence. You can’t ignore how your wandering eyes are always somehow meeting his sparkly ones and how they rest on you longer than they should, rendering you breathless every single time.

While Jungkook is energetic and burning with passion, slightly insecure and childlike in his own dumb Jeon Jungkook ways like a young fire, you, on the other hand, are perceptive and calm, like a soft breath of cool air on a hot summer day that sways the knee-high grass in the meadows. And maybe this is why he adores you so much, for you are each other’s opposite and complement.  

You used to be skeptical about the idea of love and hate all sorts of uncertainties, but that was until you found a new home in the galaxy of Jungkook’s eyes.

“Shall we head back?”

He stands up, looking as determined as ever. He offers his hand to help you up and you gladly reach for it. To your surprise, Jungkook slips his fingers into yours wordlessly and any hope of catching your breath fizzles out.

The two of you walk back to the court with comets dancing across your rosy cheeks and smiles brighter than the celestials in Jungkook’s eyes.

He’s hella whipped for you – that he will willingly admit defeat. There isn’t a definite time or date when he realised that he has his little crush on you, or when that little crush has graduated into a serious, ardent adoration for you. It’s a gradual plummeting; a peaceful and clandestine descent before his heart was willingly taken hostage by you.

You’re catastrophically beautiful, completely detrimental to the feeble defences of his heart. You never fail to soothe the storms in his mind with your lulling presence. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in him and to be very honest, he is utterly petrified, but he wants to try, if it’s with you.

The world around you is spinning.

As part of their team bonding efforts and to relieve some stress before the season, the team has decided to throw a party at Hoseok and Namjoon’s frat house, which only means: a fuck ton of alcohol and unruly volleyball players with no brain or mouth filter whatsoever.

After chugging seven shots of vodka and four shots of suspicious mixtures that were handed to you, you’re more than just out of it. Everything is fuzzy and ten folds funnier, liquid confidence smouldering within your bloodstream. The amount of alcohol in your system is enough to make heat pool in your stomach and send your thoughts into a frenzy.

You’re aware that you’re badly smashed, but for fuck’s sake, you don’t understand why you can’t stop having nasty thoughts about the boy sitting in front of you.

Opposite you, Jungkook is watching his embarrassing teammates sputter into a howling bout of laughter with an amused grin. From his half-lidded eyes, he’s a little out of it, but he still looks fucking good and this causes your chest to swell.

You’ve made eye contact with him for the fifteenth time within the past two hours. Much could be said in the language of stealth. It’s as though you two enjoy this little game of the push and pull attraction of two magnets. You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes that never fails to ignite a deep fire in your bones, washing your senses away. As you imploringly pry yourself away from his intense gaze, you turn to see Hoseok flashing you his most annoying grin ever.

“Fuck off,” you mouth, knowing exactly what your idiot of a friend is about to say, but this only urges him to tease you even more and you want to sock him in the face.

Without wiping that annoying smirk off his face, he leans forward and whispers into your ear, “You two little shitheads have been eye-fucking each other the entire time.”

“Wha—”

“He probably has a boner right now. Just look at him trying to cover it up.”

Your eyes search for Jungkook. Shifting uncomfortably with a cushion planted on top of his lap, his irises suddenly dart all over the room to avoid looking anywhere near you.

You gulp down.  

He has a boner?

The voice in your mind screams at you hysterically and you can almost hear the smile in her tone. He has a boner. A fucking boner! Fuck.

How your thoughts run from wanting to tape Hoseok’s mouth so that he’ll shut up for the first time in his life to imagining yourself taking care of Jungkook’s hard-on is beyond you. The mere thought of Jungkook’s hard dick strained against his jeans gets your mind whirling with images of you kneeling on your knees, kissing the head of his dick before taking him completely in your mouth and blowing him till he comes.

Between glowing cheeks and averted eyes, you abandon the righteous battle with your morals, knowing exactly what you want.

You want him. You want him to fuck you senseless until you forget your own name.

These thoughts send a bolt of heated pleasure straight to your core, causing wetness to pool between your thighs.

Frenziedly, your eyes trail back to the setter and you notice him fidgeting uneasily under your gaze. Fuck, you’re not freaking drunk enough for this. You reach out to grab the drink from Hoseok and down the deathly concoction that he probably made with the intention of getting downright wasted. Seconds after your brave and reckless act, you wince at the burn of your throat.

Hopes of washing your cacophonous, lustful thoughts away with the burning liquor go in vain because it’s just simply fucking impossible. This has morphed into a battle of brain and heart. Your heart definitely knows what it wants: for Jungkook to take you there and then, but your brain is screaming at you to stop being so concupiscent. But since when have you ever listened to your brain? Jungkook probably doesn’t even think of you that way. Poor boy’s probably going to be mortified when he finds out how ready you are to bend over for him.  

Shoving Hoseok away in embarrassment because you’re ashamed that that bitch has caught you red-handed, you decide to hide in one of the rooms to clear your head because the living room is an intolerable place to catch your breath and rid your filthy thoughts when everyone is raucously downing shots and screaming at one another. You may be a wreck, but this place is a breeding place for hell and havoc. So much for team bonding.

After finding your way through the maze of sloppy and rowdy drunks, you spot a bedroom down the hall – yes that’s right, Hoseok’s room. Hopefully, that will teach him a lesson for perpetually feeding off your misery.

In your drunken state, it takes you a few fumble attempts to ease the door open and when you see one of the boys sitting on the edge of the bed, you know you’re utterly fucked.

Jungkook.

With a cup of vodka in hand, looking as irresistibly riveting as ever.

A whimper finds its way lodged in your throat and you’re unsure whether to laugh or cry at the absurd situation, because ending up in the same room with the boy whom you’ve been trying to avoid the entire night because you couldn’t stop thinking about sucking his dick dry is truly ridiculous.  

His eyes widen when he finds you at the door and his lips can’t help but part to expose his teeth at your surprised and shit-faced expression.

“Y/N?” He slurs, voice raspy, and you grasp that he, just like you and everyone else in this apartment, is wasted as fuck, so you should definitely leave before you do something that you’ll regret. You’re about to turn on your heels and hide from him for the night and well, the rest of your life, but the alcohol pulsing through your veins screams at you to fuck it and go against your thoughts.

“Hey,” you mumble, closing the door behind you.

“You okay?” Even in your drunken state, you can still hear the worry burning at the edges of his usually composed voice. You nod as he pats the space beside him and you amble towards him.  

“It was too noisy. Had to take a breather in somewhere quiet,” he mumbles, raising his cup to his lips.

“Me too.”

The two of you continue to sit in silence, drinking in the moment of weird stillness and suffering from the whirlpool in your heads. At the speed that your thoughts are racing at, it’s a feat how your mind is still functioning – how it can still coherently form lewd thoughts and images of Jungkook buried in between your thighs.

You need to tame the fire that’s flaring viciously within you before you lose control and pounce on him. For what it’s worth, you notice that he has been anxiously fidgeting with his cup, downing it for the nth time in the past five minutes. You’re pretty sure that he’s drinking nothing and is probably just as nervous as you.  

Deciding that anywhere would be better than being stuck in a room with the boy whom you can’t stop lusting for, you break the silence, “Um, maybe I… should go—”

When you stand up to leave, Jungkook frantically leans forward and grabs hold of your wrist, pulling you towards him. He hasn’t meant to do it, but you somehow end up toppling over, bones liquefied by the booze.

The room starts to spin even faster, your orbs flickering back and forth. Your body is planted snug on top of his thighs, your hands and boobs pressed against his broad chest and your crotch against his bulge.

Arms firm around your waist, his body heat zaps your skin with a fiery warmth, flaring up your neck and ripening your features with an unbridled lust. For the briefest of moments, you swear you feel his dick twitch beneath you and the way he gulps down his saliva hard confirms that he bears the exact same thoughts.

“Oops, sorry,” you giggle, feeling an abrupt surge of high from the alcohol. You push against him to steady yourself, but he doesn’t let up, arms still locked around your befuddled self.

Another deafening silence descends. Even in your intoxicated state, you can still hear the thumping of your heartbeat blasting in your eardrums. You two look into each other’s eyes, unmoving. You can’t tell much from Jungkook’s eyes since they’re droopy and hazy, but he’s looking at you so intensely that it sends another zap of electricity down your spine and to your arousal. You subconsciously rub your thighs together and his lips curl up into a smirk when he realises the effect he has on you.

“Y/N,” Jungkook whispers hoarsely and he leans in till he’s dangerously close, till the delicate graze of his mouth transgresses the juncture between your jaw and ear and a familiar prickle of gooseflesh tremor moves along your neck at the sudden proximity.

“You’re so beautiful.”

A cascade of warmth starts to pour into your abdomen, the intimacy of the moment suddenly drawing upon you. You can even smell the alcohol from his breath and it’s inebriating, making you wetter than ever.

“Can I kiss you?”

He breathes into your ear and you jerk your head in bewilderment, eyes wide and ears ringing. You hesitate and wonder if he’s joking, but he shows no sign of teasing; just a look of patience and sincerity.  

“Y-Yeah,” your words come out practically as a whimper and you let your eyes fall shut as he slowly inches forward.

When he presses his lips against yours, a fizzle of electricity runs through your veins. His lips are everything that you’ve imagined – soft and warm. Intoxicating.

He parts them slightly, enough to capture yours nicely, and presses in a little firmer. The tip of his tongue shyly licks at your bottom lip, coaxing you in more, and you feel like melting in honey.

Greedy for more, you chase his tongue and he chuckles in satisfaction, tangling his tongue with yours. God, he can taste the vodka and sprite on you and as silly as it sounds, he thinks this is the best mix he has ever tasted.

You whimper against his mouth, fingers threading through his hair and tugging softly at them.

“Fuck. I want to do bad things to you,” he exhales with a little whine, hands smoothing up the expanse of your back.

Despite your drunken, flummoxed state, you manage to hear him loud and clear. A deeper surge of tabooed desire runs through your veins at the thought of Jungkook getting turned on by you. You imagine him getting off to thoughts of you, desperate for your touch. You wonder what kind of risqué fantasies he has of you and if they’re as filthy as yours.

“Like what?”

“Urgh Y/N, please don’t make me say it out loud. I’m drunk, but not drunk enough to tell you that I want to fuck you.”

“You do?” You ask, voice laced with a barely restrained frustration.

“I want to strip you bare and fuck you. Right. Now.”

“How badly?” You bat your eyelashes at him coquettishly. It’s almost impossible to curb the lingering wisps of excitement brewing low in your stomach.

“So fucking bad,” he groans, gnawing at his bottom lips anxiously. “B-But not today… I want it to be done properly.”

You sulk blatantly, tugging at his hair again.

Cupping your cheeks, he lowers his forehead to meet yours and chuckles, “It has to be somewhere perfect for you. N-Not in my captain’s dirty ass room.”

“But Kook,” you protest with a whine and press yourself against him. His entire body tenses up when your cold hands begin to roam, slipping underneath his shirt and tracing the hot flesh of his chiselled abs.

“God, you’re such a tease. Fuck you.”

The desperation in Jungkook’s voice is shameless and he’s this to close to surrendering at the hands of your intoxicated dirty self.

“Please do,” you whimper frivolously against his neck, licking at the tender exposed skin. The heat between your legs is so intense that it’s starting to ache with need.

“Y/N—”

“Fuck, I fucking love your thighs.”

It must be the alcohol talking, but fuck it. You’re going to follow your heart’s desire.  

“W-What?”

He stiffens underneath when your nimble fingers graze along the inside of this thighs.

“Do you know how distracting your thighs are when you wear those volleyball shorts?”

“You were staring at my thighs?” The teasing lilt caressing the edges of his voice doesn’t escape your ears.

“Your thighs are fucking thick. It’s too tempting to look away.”

The winning moment of liquid courage takes over your brain completely and you can’t help but moan unabashedly when Jungkook’s fingers slip under your dress, grazing your skin languidly.  

“I-I want to ride your thigh.”

There. You said it, embarrassment drowned in giddy anticipation and longing ages ago.

Jungkook grunts despairingly. Every single nerve-ending of his is aflame, skin tingling with ferocious desire.

You are going to the bane of his existence.

“Please?” You beg wantonly, aching to be touched.

In sly discretion, you press your thighs together, desperate for some sort of friction that will make your throbbing need easier to bear and Jungkook clicks his tongue in fake annoyance, shooting you a glare when he realises what you’re doing.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re trying to kill me. I’ve had a hard-on ever since you arrived.”

You giggle, noticing how his normally-doe eyes darken with rampant lust and you rub your thighs even more.

“You’re so fucking pretty. So beautiful. Fuck my life.”

He rolls his lower half suggestively, allowing you to detail the thick profile of his length – underneath lies a furious red begging to be touched and sucked.

“Ride my thigh,” he instructs, eyes glassy with lust and desire, inducing another wave of lechery to consume your insides.

Without any hesitation, you adjust your position on his thigh to make yourself at home, torso melding against his and this fucking turns you on like no other. Eyes rolled back into your head, you start to grind on his thigh, shuddering blissfully at the hard ridges of muscles against your dripping core.

Pleased with your reaction, he flexes his thighs with a satisfied smirk and a shiver traverses your entire body, leaving you with a spasm of nerves. You wail his name out loud – knowing that the others outside probably can’t hear it and your whimpers increase in volume and pitch when his fingers linger around the elastic of your panties, before palming your ass cheeks to anchor you closer to him.

You moan at his touch, begging for more. The wetness in between your thighs has long ruined your underwear and Jungkook’s jeans.

“Fuck, your ass,” he grunts loudly from the back of his throat, finding purchase on your ass cheeks and kneading them with a vice-like and desperate grip.

“The guys were talking about how cute your ass is and I told them to shut the fuck up. Do you know how fucking hard I get when you bend over to pick up the volleyballs? I always have to spend hours jerking off after practice.”

You moan in response, light-headed from the mental image. Jacking off in the locker room is not anything new or a taboo among the guys. But Jungkook always spends a longer time than the others in the cubicle to curb the pulsating urges between his legs. The mere thought of you, innocently batting your long lashes at him and being so intimate with him, has always been enough to make him cum.

Wiped over by another intense surge of lust, you grow an ardent urge to touch him more. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he wants to see in this world, it’s like a battle of waits between predator and prey, but you are lucidly aware of what you want.

Slipping your hand between your bodies, your fingers trail down from his toned abs to graze against the prominent outline of his clothed bulge and it grows to its full hardness almost immediately from your touch. You haven’t even seen his dick yet, but fuck, you really, really want a taste of Jungkook’s dick.

“I-I want your dick. So bad. Please, Jungkookie. Please?”

You’re so filthy that you don’t even recognise yourself. Moving your hand along his length, you stroke him through the two layers of material, but you can still feel the heat of his cock against your palm. Just as you’re about to unzip his jeans, he stops you to your disappointment.

“No, not today,” he manages to breathe out, nearly at his wit’s end. His voice is about to crack from his insatiable hunger for you, while you groan despondently in response.

Jungkook’s fingers trace along the length of your neck until they find their way into your hair and run through them as he leans down to the crook of your neck. You shiver when his breaths coast on the exposed skin of your throat before he nips gingerly on your skin, soft one moment and dirty the next, relishing how it makes you jump.

God, he can smell you at this proximity. Your favourite citrus and lavender scent. He stifles a laugh at how you can still smell so tantalisingly innocent when you’re so fucking needy for him. His dick grows even harder, turned on by the stark difference in your character and this makes it even harder for him to prevent blowing his load there and then.

He desperately wants to pin you down, strip you bare, explore your body in all of its magnificence, memorise every crevice of your body and then fuck your brains out till his name is the only thing you know. But he needs to hold himself back, not wanting it done sloppily at a party and especially not when you’re drunk, but he’s this close to joining the dark side.

White stars begin to dot the edges of his vision.

He digs his fingers into your waist to press you closer to him, thigh bouncing rhythmically so your clit brushes against a different area of his toned thigh each time. It brings a euphoric sensation to your core, the tingles spreading fast and sending you near delirious. A writhing wreck, you can only fall limp against his chest, muffling your stuttering whimpers. You wish he’d let you come apart with his fingers, but the way he’s grinding his thigh up against your clit is intoxicating enough, much more than the alcohol in your blood.

“That’s it,” he smirks, watching you grind your hips back and forth with a lustful gaze and you reach up to kiss his neck to exhibit your high.

“You like this?”

“Fucking,” you mewl wantonly, tugging at his tousled locks. The heat radiating from Jungkook’s body burns addictively and sharp intakes of air occur against your lips, leaving your throat to run dry. “Love it.”

He grins at your honesty, more spurred to make you feel good. Tonight, it’s all about you and your pleasure. Hovering over him, you let your mouth hang open and inhale each other in. His breath coasts on your cheeks when he pulls away for air, only to dive back into the pristine juncture of your throat, attacking the delicate skin, searching and starving. He doesn’t stop sucking and running his tongue across your skin till your neck is painted with lilac bruises, till he’s satisfied with his very own masterpiece.  

“J-Jungkook, please.”

With a predatory gaze, he watches how your breasts bounce with each rock of your hips and leans south to trail his tongue down your cleavage. You hook your arm around his neck, soft whimpers leaving your mouth when the pleasure overpowers you till you can’t even find your voice. Jungkook hums in satisfaction, burying his face into your chest.

Discovering the pleasant weight of your breasts and the firm peaks of your nipples against his calloused palms, he kneads them hungrily, fuelling the growing pressure that’s culminating in the pit of your stomach.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so hot.”

A combination of a hoarse moan and gasp is strangled out of Jungkook’s throat from the depths of his lungs. His spine straightens as his body locks up over the sudden onslaught of pleasure. The slick noises of your folds against his thigh are almost deafening now, filthy to the core, but not as erotic as your moans. He honestly can’t believe this is happening, after his many fantasies of being this intimate with you.

“Jungkook,” you moan shamelessly when the coil inside you grows tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter. “I’m cl-close.”

“Come for me, baby.”

The smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his mouth when he runs a finger down your clothed core, further tightening that coil in your belly. You feel so vulnerable under his command, but his dominance lights up your nerves like fireworks. You fucking love it.

Jungkook’s leg starts bouncing faster and the otherworldly sensation sends you over the edge. Your nails dig deeper into his biceps to stable yourself as your legs begin to shake, stomach knotting. You choke back a sob as you jerk your hips up, moaning an incoherent string of curse words and his name all mixed in one. The sight of your lovely face hovers over his, your swollen mouth hanging apart, eyes half-lidded in a torrent of bliss and neck messily painted in purple bruises.

Jungkook holds your hips down to help you with your high, whispering sweet praises into your ear as his hands stroke your sides. He lifts his leg ever so slightly, dragging the hard muscles against your core once again until you snap your eyes shut, your entire body briefly locked up and dispersed into a series of erratic spasms.

The idyllic blinding white fades to only a shimmer at the edges of your eyes. You slump forward, burying your face into his chest. Seconds after, he follows suit, coming untouched in his pants.

Head still buried in his chest, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to engulf you in a tight hug. He breathes heavily against his work of art on your neck and jerks up when reality hits him square in the face.

Your breath is still ragged in your lungs, forehead rested on his shoulder as he gently rubs comforting circles on your back. You’ve ridden off most of the intoxication, but you still can’t think straight. Not when Jungkook is nipping at the soft lobe of your ear, an attempt to coax you into relaxing.

“That was… wow.”

He breaks the silence with a sheepish smile as he pushes the messy strands of your hair away from your face, gingerly running his thumb over your rubescent cheeks. He leans his head down to meet your forehead, brushing the tip of his nose with yours.

“Yeah,” you breathe out softly and he can hear the gears turning frantically in your mind.

“You don’t… regret it, do you? Fuck, I’m so sorry… We’re both drunk and I shouldn—”

“No! Of course not,” you shake your head, “I-I liked it.”

“You liked it?” From the lilt that caresses the edges of his voice, he’s clearly enjoying this.

“Urgh, shut the hell up!”

Even in his post-snogging and thigh-riding state, he still looks incredible. He’s just so delicate and nice to you that it’s almost unreal – it’s like being in a dream. He looks at you like you hold the stars in the night sky with utter adoration, before pecking a soft kiss on your forehead.  

At this very moment, you realise that you’re irrevocably, hopelessly and unabashedly in love with him and there’s no turning back, not when the stars in his eyes are twinkling with nothing but love.

Jungkook and you aren’t exactly a thing. Not yet. Sure, you guys hang out exclusively and all like before, but neither of you has popped the question or sat down to delve into the daunting topic of Feelings.

The morning after, both of you wake up to tangled limbs, bad morning breaths, bashful smiles and memories of last night’s dalliance. He tells you to give him some time because honestly, he thinks he needs all the time he can have to ensure that he does this relationship thingy properly with you. The last thing he would want is to fuck things up with you. And you tell him that you’ll wait for him, because you know how hard things have been on him. Juggling between volleyball and school work is tough enough, so you don’t want to give him more pressure.

However, you realise that there have been several changes regarding the way he acts with and around you. Whether it’s because of that intimate night or stress from volleyball (or both), Jungkook has become so much touchier with you – he’s always wanting to hold your hand and keeping you by his side. Displaying of affection is also more common in front of his teammates, but it’s not like you have anything against it. He probably needs more attention and affection since the season is only days away.

After a series of friendlies, the season has finally begun and the boys have never been readier, all prepared to be crowned as champions. With your clipboard attached to your hand, you unwaveringly multitask between watching the semi-final match and taking down notes for the boys.

Their semi-final match is with Yonsei University. While you’re pale in the face standing at the sidelines, the boys are determined and embody a degree of calmness on the court, their nerves submerged by the jolts of adrenaline. They’ve got the upper hand with Yonsei and their win is guaranteed, but it’s impossible not to feel anxious.

The crowd cheers as Jungkook tosses the ball to Taehyung at a calculated height and precision and the latter spikes it down before their opponents even have time to blink. The incident from last month comes to mind. You’re glad that he has learnt to have more confidence and trust in himself and his teammates, though he dedicates this improvement to you and your calming presence.

"You're at set-point, so please focus. And don't do anything dumb," you tease, placing your hands on your hips and faking a scowl at him as he unblinkingly hovers over you. You remember how you used to be afraid by their builds, but you’ve grown slightly accustomed after awhile, though there’s one thing that you think you’ll never get used to: the way Jungkook looks at you with stars dancing in his eyes.

“I’m kidding, kiddo. You’ll do well like always, okay? I know you will. Now go there and kick some ass.”

He nods and downs the water bottle that you’ve handed to him before pouring the remaining over his head. His action doesn’t surprise you anymore as you already have a towel ready to wipe him dry.

But what takes you aback is when he grabs you by your shoulders and leans down to meet your eyes. You open your mouth, ready to lament about him touching you with his clammy hands, but retract upon seeing the change in Jungkook’s demeanour.

Despite the loud cheers from all four directions, Jungkook can hear his heart racing loudly in his ears. Just before the whistle pierces through the court to signal the end of time-out, he traces your jaw with his fingertips and whispers into your ear, his mellifluous voice softer than snow, “I have something that I need to tell you after the game.”

Tinges of affection waltzes with the stars in his pupils. He looks at you like you hold his entire world on the tips of your fingers, like he just needs you for everything to be okay.

Lacing your fingers together, warmth seeps from his palm into yours like a soft, comforting hum and you know exactly what he wants to tell you.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting here.”

With a sliver of hope, he jogs back to the court. It’s now his turn to serve. With that same palm that just held yours, he gallantly performs the best serve of his life, one that spirals off his palm to shoot through the hole between the other team’s back line, clinching a safe spot for SNU in the finals.

After five long sets, SNU wins Yonsei by a landslide and the team gets an evening off before they resume practice the next day. Jungkook seizes this chance to take you out for dinner, somewhere that isn’t at the convenience store.

The sky is already soaked in sparse hues of navy and black, and the silence of the night becomes even more endearing due to Jungkook’s mere presence by your side. He’s nervous, you can tell, even more than this morning, from the way he’s bouncing nervously on the balls of his shoes, as though he’s about to combust.

His vision zones in on how your bottom lip is caught between your teeth – a habit of yours whenever you’re unsure, so he takes you into his arms and intertwines your fingers together. You relax involuntarily when he starts rubbing circles onto your palm.

Jungkook cranes his neck up, lips grazing the shell of your ear and you shudder at his warm breath fanning against your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your neck.

He wraps one hand around your waist and looks deeply into your orbs, as though he’s spellbound by the iridescent glint in your eyes and the roses flaring up across your cheeks under the sliver of moonlight.

And in the velvet of the summer night, he gingerly whispers, with utter adoration swelling his chest to the size of the moon. The words that you have repeatedly dreamed of him to say. The words that you’ve been wanting to tell him. The words that have been trapped hidden behind his heart for the longest time.

“I love you.”

You feel the warmth of Jungkook’s palms cradling your blushing features, while he strokes your cheeks with his thumb.

“Kook,” you breathe out softly.

“I love you, Y/N.”

He repeats in a tone three notches deeper, paired with an earnestness that gets your heart ricocheting in your ribcage.

“I knew there was something about you when you joined us on the first day… And I confirmed it after sacrificing my own nose.”

“Sacrifice? You mean it was on purpose?” A sparkle of mirth glimmers in your eyes under the hazy yellow light.

“I normally don’t get distracted, but I couldn’t help but get upset when you came back into the court laughing with Seokjin-hyung. I was still staring at you when I got hit on the face.”

“You’re so silly, but at least your boopy nose is still cute. I love your nose.”

“And my thighs, right?”

You blush fervently at the memory of that night.

“Fuck Y/N, I just confessed to you and all you do is tell me that you love my nose,” he laughs, his thumb still rubbing circles onto your cheek.

Your lips curl up into a smile. “Kiss me?”

“I will give you the entire world if you asked me to.”

His whisper is so earnest and affectionate that it makes you feel like melting.  

In a graceful sweep, he pulls you closer by the hips, finding purchase on your waist. The first touch is similar to the caress of a feather, so light that you could barely feel it. The tip of his tongue skims over the rosy flesh of your bottom lip, eliciting goosebumps that tingle along the nape of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling like you’re plummeting into a bottomless pit.

Jungkook’s lips are soft, a little chapped, as they meld to yours. He kisses you like he hasn’t kissed you before, like it’s your first time being completely vulnerable to each other, like planets condemned by gravity to collide.

Images of him moaning shamelessly beneath you as you grind on his thigh and him kneading your ass get completely fizzed out of your memory. You can only think of him kissing you, how tenderly he’s holding onto you, how sweet his lips taste onto yours and how sincere he is on stealing your breath.

You can only think of how the objection of your affection is coruscating before you as he sprinkles his personal collection of stardust onto your lips, with a love so blazingly radiant that it rivals the intensity of the sun.

You feel golden.

Like you’re lying on a bed of sunflowers, drifting alongside the movement of summer’s light towards glistening honey.

A whimper lodges itself in your throat, bubbling against Jungkook’s lips and even in the darkness behind your eyelids, you can vividly picture the crescent of his smile forming against your lips.

The tip of his tongue prods at the seam of your lips and you part your lips to let him in entirely. You reach out and caress the nape of his neck to deepen the kiss, jumping slightly in surprise when his fingers splay gingerly over your waist, tugging at the hem at your shirt languidly. Your mind has long become a labyrinth of little streets that you have difficulty navigating, sent into a turmoil by how sweet his love tastes. It’s insane how much you yearn for his burning touch.

You inch away slowly and your eyes land on his, now glistening with solar debris that sends instant palpitations to your heart. He stares at you longingly, like he can’t believe that you’re really here in front of him, cocooned up against his body and adoration swells in his chest. He feels like combusting, but he also feels like hugging you and having you all to himself till the end of time.

“You know how I feel for you, right?” You mumble, looking deep into his orbs.

Jungkook notices how your bottom lip is taut between your teeth and the hint of a blush is still glowing effervescently on your cheeks. You’re beautiful. A visual spectacle, a sight to behold. You’re so beautiful that his chest constricts, lungs taking a sparse second to remember how to fucking breathe normally again.

“Remind me?” He whispers back.

You let out a giggle at how ardently Jungkook is gazing at you and how lovely he looks right now, exhilaration gleaming like a kaleidoscope of stars in his eyes.

This time, you lean in, planting your lips on the rosy flesh on his mouth and he softens. Kissing him is akin to drinking hot chocolate on a rainy winter day, snuggling under your warm quilt after a long day and dancing in the rain. It feels like weaving through time and space.

Pulling away, he lets out another one of his boyish laughs, tugging at your heartstrings for the umpteenth time that night before dusting kisses over every inch of your blushing features, exhaling words of love against your skin. You see galaxies sprawled all over in the darkness of your closed eyelids.

“I love you Jeon Jungkook,” you breathe out, gracing the shell of his ear. “I love you so much and I swear by the stars in your eyes.”

“Are you… wearing Jungkook’s jersey from last season or are my eyes playing tricks on me?” Hoseok quips, eyebrows raised.

“Oh.”

You look down at your attire – Jungkook’s old jersey and a pair of denim jeans. “Yeah, he made me wear it and now I feel like some frat boy’s hoe.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Hell knows what the kid did while wearing that jersey, probably jerked off in it like a million times. Oh and he also sweats a lot – I know it’s been washed and all, but it’s literally a sweat-drenched shirt. Unless you’re into that kink…? Like Jungkook’s sweat? Hit me up, baby.”

You throw the nearest object at him – your clipboard, clocking him square in the chest, though the boy remains unperturbed.

“Listen, I’m really happy that you’re here with us. You’ve been with us for only three months, but you’ve been of such great help to the team and we all really appreciate you being here. So yeah, thank you?”

“It’s so weird that you’re being nice to me,” you chortle. “But no worries, dude. I somehow like suffering, so I like being the team’s manager.”

“Well, you have Jungkook now – take it as a thank you gift from the team, won’t you? He’s a good human sacrifice for the satanic you,” Hoseok waggles his eyebrows greasily.

“Fuck off,” you sneer back, rolling your eyes.

“Jungkook is a great guy, really, even though he’s an overgrown, emo baby bunny,” he quotes himself and you recall what happened the first time you met Jungkook. “But I’m just really happy for the both of you.”

Time really doesn’t wait for no one.

Amidst a whirlwind of tiring training sessions, worn-out limbs and bottles of protein shakes, three months have come and gone in a blink of an eye. Your first season with the volleyball team is approaching an end.

It’s finally D-day and everyone has been waiting for this since forever – their final match with Hanyang University.

The game passes in flashes of white, alongside the voices of excitement and desperation, hand signs and bruises that stacked up quicker than their attacks. They're ferociously neck and neck with Hanyang – both teams are refusing to relent, tightening up their plays and leaving fewer and fewer loopholes in their game as they vie for match point of their fifth and final set.

Your lips are probably chapped from biting on them, bearing the brunt of anxiety, as you continue to chant please, please let them win to yourself.

A risky ball returns to your side of the court and your heart stops at the difficulty of receiving it, but Jimin slides across the court in time and manages to save it, hollering loudly, “Chance ball!”

He digs it towards where Jungkook is poised, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and everyone drops into their ready positions, all eyes on the ball and set to put an end to the intense rally.

It’s only a matter of milliseconds before the ball falls into the cupped hands of the golden setter who then pushes it back up in the air, quick and effortless, to an altitude that complements the height of Hoseok’s jump. Without even the slightest of delays, the captain is up on his feet and stretches his hand to slam the ball down ruthlessly.

His smack sends it rocketing towards the other side of the court and his opponents scramble to receive it. It brushes against their libero’s forearm, but it’s almost impossible to save it from the speed and force it’s flying at, and meets the floor with a satisfying thwack of finality. Everyone freezes all at once with hitched breathes, eyes glued to how the ball dribbles obstinately in a slow motion, before rolling away from the perimeter of the court.

The last whistle breaks the static silence to announce the finality. Everyone turns to the score chart – 28 to 26.  

There and then, the gym erupts into a positive torrent of roars and it takes a few prolonged seconds before reality hits Jungkook right in the face.

SNU won the championships.

They won the season!

Consciousness comes streaming back to the players after awhile. Yoongi is the first to scream, unexpectedly, with a loud fuck yeah and this snaps everyone out of their trance. Jimin’s reaction comes next, falling to his knees to do his signature slide, both fists pumped in the air as he snarls, “We fucking won!”

The players then tackle one another into a tight group hug, all smiling triumphantly and throwing their fists up in excitement. The sound of cheering from the crowd sends a tingle up their spines and it feels so fucking good.

Coach Kim is already on his feet, running towards them with the proudest smile you’ve ever seen on him and you’re about to follow suit, until you see Jungkook break away from the huddle and barrel towards you at a speed too fast for your comprehension.

Smiling at how his face is lit up like the stars in his eyes, you throw your arms wide open and he dives into your embrace, hot tears brimming at the edges of both your eyes. He engulfs you into the tightest hug he’s ever given anyone and you wrap your arms around his waist, heart swelling with pride.

He feels like the dew on a perfectly bloomed rose in your comforting arms as he nuzzles further into the crook of your neck, relishing the warmth of your lithe body against his.  

“Kook! You did it, oh my god!” You scream in joy, but your repeated words of congratulations get muffled by his broad chest.

He leans back to take a look, a really good look of your beaming face that screams nothing but pride and love, before scooping you up in a graceful sweep and twirling you around, simply because words cannot describe how happy he feels.

A soft, feather-light peck is then pressed on your ear and a blush makes camp on your cheeks. His warmth leaves your skin after a fleeting second, the cool air of the sports hall rushing back to stroke the flaming blush on your cheeks.

Still riding the high from their win, he then leans in to kiss the beam from your lips and the open display of affection makes your heart burst in your chest. Behind you two, the entire volleyball is wolf-whistling and applauding raucously. Jungkook scrunches his nose in embarrassment at how all his teammates and Coach are gawking at the two of you, but really, he cannot find any damns to give.  

Red-faced and bright-eyed, the champions of the season make their way out of the court with a steady, triumphant gait, their bodies pumped with a brew of adrenaline and slight exhaustion. Lagging at the back of the team is Jungkook and you in your own little bubble. His fingers are interlaced firmly with yours and he registers that his heart will forever and always be set on you.

In his eyes, you see stars. You see yourself. You see the two of you.

You see love.

For the nth time that day, Jungkook leans in to meet your lips and he knows very well that this is the sweetest victory he will ever taste in his life.  

Note | If you’re reading this, hi there love! ♡ Thank you so much for reading my first piece on this site. If you liked it, hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu with feedback or talk to me here – it’ll really make my day ♡ This was beta-ed by Ali @gukseuphoria and J @glitterjjk – thank you for being my first beta readers! There’ll be more stories coming your way, check out my WIPs for more! 💫💛✨

(A special shoutout to Ayv @piedpipers for being my first friend here and for always believing in me and hyping me up 👭🌞🌸💖)

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[twdxjess]

Hey There, Princess: A Negan Story ( Chapter 5)

Summary: After running into Negan in the woods. You agree to go on a spontaneous date with him, ending up at a location only Negan knows about. Will you get the answers you’re looking for while resisting his devilish charm?

Setting: Season 7

Pairing: Negan X Reader

Need to catch up?  Masterlist 

Interested in reading about the reader and Negan’s past-> click here

Tags: @khloekiddo @squidsart1910

All you could hear was the engine running and nothing else. You thought it was a little awkward for Negan to not say a word but maybe he was nervous right now too. Finally the awkward silence was broken by Negan saying, “ Almost there sweetheart...just a few more miles.” Negan squeezed your hand as if he never left you, just like the good ol’ days. But, you quickly removed your hand and placed it in your lap. Negan chuckled. “ Playing hard to get...just how I like it.” He then placed his eyes back on the abandoned road. Even though it’s been years since the world went to shit it was still weird seeing rodes with nothing on it. No cars, no roadkill, and no sign of life.

The car was slowing down as Negan drifted off the road into what looked like a driveway. You were stunned at the incredibly cute beach house in front of you.

“ Oh my god, Negan you remembered.. ” you looked at him with glee.

“ Darlin’ I knew you would like it.” He said as he got out of the car.

In this very moment you finally saw the old Negan. The Negan that saved you from that heard, the Negan who stood by you for what felt like forever, and the Negan you feel in love with and truly missed. And the Negan that remembered all those stories about your family and how you loved going to the beach. You even made a pact with him that if you were to ever find a beach house you and him would live there for the rest of your days. If only the people in Alexandria could see this side of him you wouldn’t have to choose who’s side you were on.

Negan interrupted your thoughts by saying, “ Whatcha waitin’ for let’s go in!”

You smiled and raced Negan to the door, “ I win!” You proudly boasted.

“ Nope I declare a rematch, I was distracted by your perky ass.” Negan stated as he leaned in for a kiss. You quickly opened the door avoiding his kiss, even though every fiber of your body wanted to kiss the handsome man you needed to set new rules when it came to Negan. Rule #1- Don’t fall for his dimple filled smile, Rule #2- whatever he does don’t kiss/sleep with him, and rule #3- try to convince him Alexandria is a great place to live so that eventually you can throw out rules 1 & 2!

After you agreed with yourself about the “Negan Rules” you let yourself explore the house. As you walked around, you could see this place was once a great vacation spot for a family. With 3 bedrooms, a huge kitchen, and a nice living room you instantly fell in love and could see yourself and Jax leaving Alexandria for this. With weekly contact of course because Aaron would hate you if you just left with no reason to come back. But, you also saw Negan here with you and Jax, and maybe another little munchkin or two. “God, why did he have to be the villain.” You thought to your self. Luckily the decorations on the wall got your attention and as if the universe was talking to you, your eyes landed on a sign that said, “ Life’s a beach!”. “ Ain’t that the truth!” you laughed out loud.

Negan soon caught your attention and said, “ (y/n) you haven’t even seen the best part of the house.” Negan grabbed your hand and rushed you down the hallway out the back door. In front of you you saw an amazing porch that you only saw in those Home & Garden magazines or on the HGTV Network. This porch had an amazing entertainment place with a bonfire, chairs, a bbq pit and in the corner it even had a juccuzzi which probably didn’t work, but still it was absolutely incredible. “Incredible, isn’t it?” Negan asked and you nodded your head in agreement. “ I found this place a while back, it actually saved me from some ugly ass walkers looking for something to eat.” You could tell Negan was nervous cause he kept babbling, which made you blush thinking you could still make him so nervous. “ Anyways, I decided for this place to be my secret getaway so I’ve been somewhat cleaning up the place hoping one day you would be here too!” Negan got closer to you but you were able to redirect his attention to the fire pit.

As the evening went on you and Negan sat by the fire pit sharing stories from when you both were younger and eventually Negan kept his promise and made you dinner which to your surprise was, rabbit stew. “Wow you can make something else beside spaghetti?” You teased Negan.

“ A mans got to survive somehow, darlin’.” Negan replied and he could tell you were getting colder so he offered you his jacket. You tried to refuse but Negan insisted and besides you were cold so you aren’t technically breaking your “Negan rules”. Negan did, however scoot closer to you for warmth.

Trying to kill the romance in the air, you commented to him, “ Can I just say this stew is amazing your chef will have to give me the recipe.”

“ This maybe hard to believe doll face but your looking at him.” Negan grinned and continued to say, “ but I’ll only give you the recipe if you tell me a little more about our boy...”

Speaking of Jax you were thankful you and the Wilsons made an agreement if it gets late than Jax will just spend the night. This came into play when you were on a supply run with Daryl and the two of you were trapped by walkers having to wait it out ‘til morning.

Refocusing on Negan’s question you answered, “ Well, he is very cute probably the cutest baby I’ve ever seen. But I’ve got to say he does take after his daddy because he gets all the ladies wanting his attention.”

“That’s my boy!” Negan proudly cheered.

You continued to say, “ Jax loves the color green, seems to like Disney movies his favorite being 101 Dalmatians, he has a best friend named spot, which is his stuffed dog, and he loves Cheerios. Let’s see what else....” you saw Negan smile at the thought of Jax and his favorite things which gave you another thought, “ also Jax has the cutest smile with dimples just like you. He’s definitely helped me get through the days I missed you the most because one look at his face and I could picture you right there with me.” Your eyes started to water making Negan get up to give you one of his famous bear hugs. “Shit!” You thought to yourself, “ remember the rules, stupid.” So to avert the situation you suggested to take this “date” inside for you were cold and it was getting darker, Negan agreed with you and to make sure you wouldn’t break any more rules, you sat your perky ass on the couch. Patiently, waiting for Negan to put out the fire pit and come inside.

When Negan walks into the living room you started to laugh because he had placed old glasses on his face making him look older than he was.

Negan then said, “ There’s that laugh I’ve been missing....but seriously do I look...like a college scholar?”

You contined laughing and replied, “ Oh Negan...let’s just hope you never need glasses in the future.”

Negan gasped as if he was hurt but then he threw down the glasses and plopped on the love seat next to you. His hazel eyes just yearning for your touch you just smiled at him and said, “ I have a question for you.”

Negan looked at you and replied, “ Shoot, I’m an open book sweetheart.”

This was your chance to ask Negan about the Saviors and Alexandria and all this shit that’s currently tearing you apart on the inside so you asked, “ What happened after you left me that night at the R.V?”

“Gosh damnit, out of all the questions I could have asked I ask this one...curse those hazel eyes getting me off track!” You thought to yourself.

Negan’s booming voice interrupted your internal conversation, “ Well...when I went back everything was on fire the hotel the cars, it was as if that group had no souls.” You could tell Negan was getting upset but he continued and said, “ not to get into the gross details but it was pretty horrific (y/n). Once I got there I started killing those bastards left and right. I just prayed they wouldn’t find you. After the bloodshed I found out that group was called “wolves” thats why they had the Ws on their heads.”

You squeezed Negan’s hand but you had to know one more thing, “ How many people from our community survived?”

Negan took a few minutes before he answered, “About 5, me, Simon, Fat Joey, Tiffany, and Mandy’s dad.” You started to burst into tears realizing that your favorite student Mandy didn’t survive, hell none of the children did. “This is why (y/n), this is why I’ve changed. Nowadays it’s better to be the leader than the follower because there is messed up people in this world and I’m not talking just about the dead. I honestly think the living is more dangerous nowadays because people will do anything to survive. ”

This was the perfect opportunity to let Negan know about how Alexandria is different but he already seemed defeated so you thought maybe tomorrow you can bring up you POV. But for now all you could think to do was embrace Negan letting him know everything is going to be okay.

“ Darlin’, and I spent days looking for you and when I finally saw that picture of you and I in your house I about jumped for joy!”

You smiled at him and said, “ So that’s why none of my things were taken...Hey, but then who took my dvds?”

“ Not I but I’ll get them back because I think I know who did and he’s a total ass..enough of this sad chick flick stuff, let’s play a game...who do you think lived here before the walkers came? Ready and go...” Negan quickly stated while pointing to you as if you were on a game show.

“ Oh shit.... Okay.... Well, I think it was a family of 5. I say the dad was a contractor who refurbished the house and then the mom was a teacher and they had 3 wonderful kids. Who eventually grew up and then the couple retired here having there grandkids visit.” You looked at Negan waiting for his answer.

“ I like that idea, but I think your wrong...” you gasped at Negan’s comment when he continued, “ from the looks of this house I’m pretty sure it’s worth a pretty penny so no way a couple could afford this place on a teacher salary and contractors .”

“ Fine then Mr. Smartypants, what do you think?”

“ Pretty sure the guy who owns this place was a porn star or director or both.” You looked at Negan and the both of you started to laugh at his comment. Negan waved his hand trying to settle down and said, “ the reason why I think so is because when I first went to the back left bedroom it had an ass load of porn movies directed by the same person and there was a camera and many costumes back there from those movies. Don’t worry I threw everything out....well except for one outfit.” Negan wiggled his eyebrows at you and grinned.

Negan convinced you about his theory but you replied, “ Fine but I still like my love story better and I hope that outfit fits you cause no way in hell am I gonna wear that nasty thing it has STD written all over it!” After a few more stories and laughs you were seriously holding it together to not kiss this man.

“It’s getting pretty late do you want me to take you home? I’m sure our baby boy is missing seeing his momma. ” Negan stated.

“ No it’s okay Jax is most likely asleep anyways and I have this deal with the Wilsons about watching Jax over night, so he’ll be fine before morning. Unless you gotta be somewhere.”

That’s when Negan got within kissing distance from you and said, “ This is where I want to be.” Out of nowhere you finally initiated the kiss. Screw your stupid rules you thought, so that’s exactly what you did.This was the Negan you longed for all those years.

So you finally gave in and that was literally the best kiss you ever had. As you come up for air you read a sign on the wall that had said, The best things are worth waiting for! , with a picture of a surfer enjoying a wave. And that’s exactly what you where doing at this exact moment enjoying the ride.

Negan stopped the kiss and sweetly told you, “ Now I know things have changed, hell even I have a bit but (y/n) one thing that hasn’t changed is my love for you!” You two continued kissing when eventually the kiss lead to more and sooner than later Negan carried you to his bed and the rest was history.