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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

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Highway to Heaven - Ch. 6

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Just some swearing

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar @sleep-is-all-i-seek (send me a message if you want to be tagged)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A/N: No smut in this chapter, sorry :)

You woke to someone whistling, and looking over you saw Johnny packing his suitcase. When he saw movement from you he sighed dramatically.

“Well look who’s finally awake!” he said sarcastically, “come on and pack up, Y/N, time to head home.”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, feeling amazingly well-rested. You were in the middle of piecing together what happened the night before when Jaehyun emerged from the bathroom. He saw that you were awake, but then averted his eyes.

“I’ll go pack up the car,” he said quickly, grabbing Johnny’s suitcase right out of his hands, picking up his own on the way by, and sprinting out the door. Johnny looked at his retreating figure quizzically.

“What’s up with him?” he wondered, and then it hit you. The hazy events of the night before started to come back to you, but in flashes, like an erotic movie on fast forward. You felt the blush creep up your neck and onto your face, mortification the weakest description for what you were feeling at that moment.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath. What the fuck is wrong with you, you reprimanded yourself. You covered your face with both your hands, wondering if you could spend the rest of the trip like that and not have anyone question it.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Johnny called, walking out the door. You got out of bed and quickly packed up, taking a deep breath before you opened the door to face your fate. Your heart was pounding when you got to the car, and it absolutely sank when Johnny called out to you. “Hey if you don’t mind I’m taking the backseat, I didn’t sleep well in that bed last night so I wanna take a nap.”

You looked at Jaehyun, who was sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead. He didn’t turn to you when you got into the car, just put it in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

---

There was a heavy silence for the first part of the drive, just the sound of Johnny softly snoring in the backseat. You couldn’t stand it anymore so you finally spoke up.

“Is it okay if I play some music?” you asked. Jaehyun nodded, his eyes never leaving the road in front of him. He also kept a death grip on the steering wheel, not his usual one hand on the wheel, one hand on the console between you. You could see his knuckles turning white. You had to address this before he combusted.

“Listen Jaehyun, about last night…” you couldn’t look at him as you spoke, but he didn’t respond, so you looked up at him cautiously. He looked like he was in pain. “I’m really, really sorry for making you do… that.”

“You didn’t make me,” he responded quietly, “I agreed to it.”

“Yeah, well, it was wrong of me to put you in that position. I’m sorry.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders finally slumping and his hands slackening a little on the steering wheel. “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. It felt nice to make you feel good like that.” He hazarded a careful smile as he finally looked over at you.

Again you didn’t know how to feel, should you be insulted that he enjoyed it, or should you be flattered that he wanted to make you feel good? It was all so maddening to you. His entire existence affected you in a way you’d never been affected by anyone or anything before in your life. Just his presence mere inches from you had an exhilarating effect that you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yeah, well, thanks then, I guess.” You really didn’t know what to say at that point.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely.

“Let’s forget about it then, okay? We can pretend it never happened, and I promise I won’t ask you to do anything like that ever again.” You looked at him expectantly.

His face fell slightly, his smile faltering, but he quickly regained his composure and nodded. “For sure, not a problem.”

Wanting to change the subject and also to fill the silence you picked up your phone. “Hey, what’s your instagram?”

He looked over at you in surprise, before he turned back to the road and smiled. “It’s just my name, I’m boring like that.”

You opened instagram on your phone and quickly found him, pressing the follow button. You scrolled through his page, filled with pictures of the night sky, and not much else.

“Wow, you really are boring,” you teased, but as you scrolled you came across a picture of him. He was sitting at a table, probably in a restaurant, the person taking the picture sitting directly across from him. He had his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the picture taker with a soft expression. “Hm, this is a nice picture of you.”

He looked over to see which one you meant, and just nodded. “My ex took that picture.”

“Which one?” you scoffed, and you instantly regretted your words when you saw how his face fell.

“Sorry,” you said in a meek voice.

“No, it’s okay, I deserved that.” He sighed. You should have left it, it really wasn’t your business, but you were dying to know.

“What’s the story anyway? With all those girls that you date. Are you really a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type of guy?” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing the subject itself was anything but light. He was quiet for a long time and you thought he might be mad at you for asking. “Forget it, sorry I asked.”

He blew out a breath, and you really thought he was going to lay into you, but instead he poured out his heart.

“It’s, um, it’s a problem, for sure,” he began, and you involuntarily leaned closer as if he was going to tell you the secrets of the universe, “I thought I could find, you know, ‘the one’ as they call it, but it turned out to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it would be easy, but I figured she was out there, you know? But with each person I dated, I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“Were you being too picky maybe?” you offered.

He nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, yeah? I thought maybe I should give it a chance sometimes, but why prolong something that you know isn’t going anywhere? I usually knew by the end of the first date.”

“So wait, all of these women were just first dates?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So…. you weren’t, you know,” at this point you made a hole with one hand and the motion of your finger going through it with the other. If Johnny were awake he would have smacked you upside the head for being so juvenile.

Jaehyun just shook his head. “No, I didn’t have sex with them.”

You were floored. All this time you thought he was a sex machine, thinking he was bringing these women home to bed them and that’s why you and Johnny couldn’t hang out at their place.

“So when you were bringing them back to your apartment and Johnny and I were banned from hanging around, you weren’t banging them?” you had to ask.

He laughed. “No, I was cooking for them. It’s my thing.” He shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had the wrong idea about him all this time, just like Johnny had said. You could hear Johnny’s voice in your head: you have the wrong idea about him, Y/N. Your mouth dropped open in shock. You could already hear Johnny gloating: told you so, told you so!

“It’s so lame, I know,” he chuckled humorlessly, “the last one really threw me though.”

“Why?” you asked, sincerely curious, “Did you have feelings for her?”

“No, it was the same story, but this time I decided to give it a chance. It got to the point where she really fell for me, but I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings and I felt terrible. I had to break it off, and she was furious. She blamed me for leading her on, told me I was a ‘lost boy who would never find love’ and threw me out of her house. I was at my lowest point and Johnny felt bad for me, so he suggested I go on this trip with you guys. So that’s why I’m here.”

You instantly felt like a sack of shit. Not only did you misjudge him so badly, you treated him like crap when all he needed was a fun time with friends.

“Oh fuck, I’m so lame,” you cursed yourself, “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled weakly. “Johnny told me what you thought of me, he said I should explain myself to you but I figured people believe actions over words, right? So I thought I could charm you but that backfired magnificently.”

You could only laugh. The two of you were like two dumb peas in a pod. “We’re both lame,” you lamented dramatically, at which point he threw his head back and laughed, a sound so beautiful to your ears you wanted to bottle it and keep it forever. Not to mention that when he laughed like that, the dimples in his cheeks got impossibly deep and his nose scrunched ever so cutely. You knew you were in deep trouble now.

“What’s so damn funny?” Johnny had woken up and clearly was not happy about it.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun looked in the rearview mirror to address Johnny, “Y/N was being funny.” He looked over at you and winked, you stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Johnny watched the two of you, the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“Wait, does that mean the two of you are-” here he slapped his hand over his mouth in shock, “friends now?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, “I know this was all part of your plan. Go ahead and gloat, I’ll just ignore you.” You put in your airpods and pretended that you were listening to music.

“Finally!” Johnny yelled, clapping Jaehyun on the shoulders, “Told you she wasn’t a stuck-up, judgmental, annoying little brat!”

“Hey!” you turned around and punched him hard in the shoulder, “I heard that!”

---

For the rest of the drive Johnny alternated between expressing his relief at the two of you finally getting along, and teasing you about Jaehyun’s charms.

“You know that Jaehyun can cook, right? That means he’s good with his hands.” Johnny stated, smirking at the innuendo. If he only knew, you thought. You looked over at Jaehyun and his ears had turned red.

“I’m sure he is.” You couldn’t help yourself. Jaehyun shot you a panicked look, before he laughed nervously. “Maybe I can come over one day and you can cook for all of us.” You looked over to see his reaction.

He smiled widely and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Look at this! We’re all one big, happy family!” Johnny put his arms around both you and Jaehyun’s shoulders. You looked at your best friend and smiled. He was genuinely happy. You could only imagine how upsetting it was for him to have two people in his life who were very important to him, not be able to get along. You felt bad for putting him through that just because you were stubborn, and just as you were about to open your mouth to apologize he dropped a bomb.

“And since we’re all so close now, we can all share the one king size bed in the motel tonight since it was the last room I was able to get.” He winked and shot finger hearts at you, and you wondered if there were any good places nearby to dispose of a body.

---

He was true to his word that night, climbing into the bed on one side and motioning for you and Jaehyun to get in with him.

“Come on in, I don’t bite. But I can if you want me to.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jaehyun played along, giggling and covering his mouth demurely with his hand. You rolled your eyes. They really did belong together.

“You get in the middle then,” you addressed Jaehyun, “so you two lovebirds can be together.” Jaehyun laughed and got into the bed, and you followed, turning off the lights. With the lights on the mood could be playful and fun, but as soon as it was dark the seriousness of the situation hit you. You were so keenly aware of Jaehyun’s body beside you. You could hear him breathing, could see his chest rise and fall in the dim light. You could smell the faint musky scent of his cologne. There was no way you could fall asleep.

Jaehyun seemed to be having the same problem. Because of the lack of space, he wasn’t able to bring in an extra pillow to hug to help him fall asleep. He tossed and turned, sometimes kneeing or elbowing Johnny in the process, but Johnny slept like the dead and would only grunt and then turn over. This wouldn’t do.

“Do you need to hug something?” you whispered.

“It’s okay, there’s no space. I’ll manage.” He reassured you. But he sighed, and so you mustered up your courage.

“You can hug me, if you want,” you offered, “Just hug.” You felt like you should specify. He was quiet for a while so you thought he’d fallen asleep, but then you felt him turn towards you, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he whispered in your ear, and you involuntarily shuddered at his proximity. He felt good. His arm around you felt good. His body firm against your back felt good.

“Yeah,” you answered him, closing your eyes and finally giving in to the feelings you had been trying to hold back. “I’m really sure.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines

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kbstories · 4 years

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Hegemony

he·ge·mo·ny (n.) A dominant influence or authority over others.

One cell, two captains and an uncertain future ahead.

(Or: Kidd’s prison makeup is flawless. Here’s why.)

Tags: Captivity, Enemies to Friends, Bickering, Fluff (?)

Read Chapter 1 here. Set in Wano. Spoiler warning for Act Two of Wano.

***

Kidd is awake before Strawhat, that first day.

Time is a nebulous concept, measured by shades of grey and shifting shadows. A mouse scuttles by, looking for scraps, and Kidd lets it nip at his boot for a bit before he shoos it away.

Outside, not a single soul moves. The stone pit will be busy soon enough.

Strawhat snorts in his slumber and turns around, sleeping off his clash with Kaido one snore at a time. He’s a mess, hair plastered in place with blood long dried, the yukata he wears torn and drenched in it, too. Blue from his fingers to his wrists, and Kidd didn’t even know a rubber man can bruise. It makes him wonder whether his metal fist would withstand whatever punches the brat dished out to get those.

Kidd smirks. Something to keep in mind for the day the shackles come off.

He leaves Strawhat to it; the guards are still a while out anyways. Instead, Kidd twists in his chains, far enough to wipe his lips against his fur coat. The thing is done for anyways, crusted with dust and filth of all kinds. There’s a handsewn pocket on the inside that Kidd reaches into, straining his wrist to grab what’s inside.

Despite the encounter with an Emperor (among other things), his lipstick has yet to break. The case is a little dented, sure, bullet worn almost to the nub – Kidd didn’t exactly count on being imprisoned for a week – but it’ll do. After years of daily use, Kidd has no need for a mirror or any sort of diligence for this, the shape of his mouth traced in one fluid motion.

Finding this shade of red in the New World was a pain in the ass to say the least: The rest of his stash is on the Punk and that’s another reason his ship better be fine and not on the bottom of the ocean. Lives have been lost over much, much less.

Kidd smacks his lips when he’s done. Repeats the process with the trusty kohl pencil he takes to each of his eyes, the black lines surrounding them reinforced with easy precision.

Much better.

His nails are a whole other story. In the dim morning light, Kidd runs his thumb over their smooth, lacquered texture; he doesn’t get very far before hitting scratches and the odd hole where crimson polish has chipped off entirely.

On any other day, it would be a quick fix. Just a matter of nudging Killer awake next to him and watch him paint on another coat with patient hands. Return the favor in Killer’s favorite blue, if needed.

Now, the bottle of nail polish is an odd weight in his hand. Kidd frowns. It’ll be impossible to get the right angle like this.

“What ya got there, Spikey? Food?”

Kidd doesn’t as much startle as throw a glare over his shoulder – only to realize that Strawhat is right next to him. Big, curious eyes are all the bigger mere inches from his face, and Kidd jerks his hand away before Strawhat can finish grabbing for it.

“Paws off or I’ll bite them off”, Kidd barks between clenched teeth. Who knew the little shit could be this sneaky? Strawhat straight up ignores him, climbing over Kidd to get to his chained hand.

“C’mon, share! I’m so hungr– Ah!”

Even clad in Sea Stone, the guy tastes like rubber and sweat. Urgh. Kidd bites down all the same, only letting go when Strawhat pushes at his head and scrambles for swift retreat on flip-flopped feet.

His arm comes away bloody, teeth marks a perfect half-circle on his skin.

“You bit me!”

There’s a grin on Kidd’s lips, growing wider when he wipes at the corners of his mouth and nothing comes away smudged. “Told ya”, Kidd spits the words out along with the dirt on his tongue. Disgusting. “This ain’t even food, you stupid fuck.”

Strawhat tilts his head at him and Kidd rolls his eyes, shows him the tiny flask held between two fingers.

“Oh! It’s that stuff for the nails. The one that smells bad.”

Look who’s talking. Kidd huffs. “Yeah. Stop bothering me.”

A moment passes and Strawhat actually stays away, sitting cross-legged and slumped with his elbows on his knees. That should’ve been the end of it: By the time Kidd has shaken and opened the bottle and balanced it somewhat precariously on his leg, Kidd’s full attention is focused on the wet shine of the delicate brush.

But so is Strawhat’s. It’s unnerving.

“What?”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re staring. Fuck off.”

Strawhat doesn’t fuck off. “Isn’t that kinda hard? With, um…”, a vague gesture towards what remains of Kidd’s left arm, “that. How are you gonna do your thumb and stuff?”

Kidd turns his head slowly. His pulse thrums hot in his veins. “You looking for a fight?”

“What? No.” The brat has the nerve to look annoyed. “Jeez. I’m just saying, this place is boring as hell and there’s no food. It sucks.”

Kidd stares. Waits for the connection between one and the other to make sense. “And?”

Chin on his hands, Strawhat’s eyebrows draw into an even deeper frown, cheeks puffed out. It’s… a pout. Strawhat is pouting.

“I can help with that, y’know. Robin and Nami let me paint their nails all the time.”

A laugh bubbles up before Kidd can stop it. He shakes his head, “You’re so full of shit”, turns back to the task at hand. The tip is dipped in again and–

The cuff jerks at his hand. Kidd freezes. The bottle wobbles dangerously without anything to steady it, its precious contents on the precipice of spilling all over the dirty floor.

Breathless seconds later, it stabilizes enough to screw the lid back on.

A defeated sigh. “Monkey.”

“Hm?”

Kidd tells him, “This is my last bottle”, slow and deliberate. “Break it and you will die.”

Strawhat blinks, lifts his head. A smile is quick to burst on his lips, all sunny and delighted, damn him. “Gotcha!”

A rather clumsy shuffle to Kidd’s side makes him regret his decision almost immediately but Strawhat’s fingers are careful as he takes the nail polish from Kidd, handling it like one would a fledgling bird or perhaps a rare butterfly. When Strawhat gets to work, he does so with his tongue sticking out of his mouth and a look of concentration on his face that Kidd has only seen in battle before.

Huh. Perhaps there are worse things out there than having Strawhat Luffy as a cell mate.

That first day in the stone pit ends with a veritable feast for both of them.

By the second, Strawhat has managed to piss off the guards enough that they hook his shackles to the wall, too, and the twisting and pulling and gnawing on the chains for hours on end had provided some form of entertainment.

On the third, Kidd catches heat right along with him for helping that old fart with not-starving, and they’re locked in two separate cells right next to each other instead. Which, as much as Kidd doesn’t care, means he can kiss the semi-functional plan he’d come up with goodbye. Strawhat attracts trouble like shit does the flies – it’s… not exactly new information. Sabaody is a little hard to forget, even two years later.

(This is the reason why Killer’s the one with the plans.)

Fuck it. He has never been the guy to shut up and follow another, no matter how many times the world will go tits up in Strawhat’s wake. No, Kidd has his own path to walk: One that will lead him to a crew to be saved and a ship to be recovered and traitors to be hunted and there, at the very end of it, to One Piece itself.

The fourth day sees Queen return to Udon under thunderous applause. By then, Kidd has slipped the guards and climbed his way to freedom without a single glance back.

The Wasteland is ahead, Flower Capital beyond that.

Sea Stone weighs heavier with every step, the sun too-bright in his eyes. Over and over, Kidd runs his thumb over his nails and smiles grimly.

There’s not a single crack in the polish.

#one piece #eustass kid #monkey d. luffy #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #this didn't go where i thought it would but hey #the new chapter slayed me so i'm off to write some kidd/killer recovery fic ASAP #this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff

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jimlingss · 7 years

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Student Council Prez [5]

Episode 4 - Episode 5 - Episode 6 Words: 5.9k Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, High School!Au

“WOO! I AM SO EXCITED!” Taehyung suddenly slams his hands down on the table and Namjoon shakes his head with a smile.

“Settle down, settle down.” Yoongi clears his throat and clasps his hands together. He turns to a nervous Jungkook, staring down at his lap. “How are the funds this time around?”

“Oh-uh, um..” Jungkook frantically flips open the files and then stares blankly at them. Yoongi slides it over to take a look himself, huffing out tiredly and Jungkook shoots an apologetical look for not understanding the calculations.

“Well?” Jin’s brow lifts.

“Good. Better.” Yoongi looks to Jungkook, nodding his head. “We’ll probably be able to supply everyone with snacks and water…”

“Is that it?” Taehyung pouts.

“What’s the prize going to be?” Hoseok inquires.

Jin hums for a moment, contemplating. “How about a picture with the Student Council members?”

Jimin scoffs. “Don’t think of yourself so highly. Do you really think anyone wants that?”

“Hey. People love us!” Jin defends exasperatedly.

“Ooh! Ooh!” Taehyung’s eyes flicker and everyone turns to him. “How about a retreat day? With just their class out to a summer villa? That would be so nice, like the ocean and the beach and the stars at night and a barbecue an-”

“That’s too much.” Yoongi interjects.

“Well….” Namjoon tilts his head and slides over the accounting records that are in front of Yoongi, pulling out a calculator from his bag. He stares at it for a moment, punching in some numbers. “Actually……..it’s possible.”

“Actually?” Jimin’s eyes double in size. “A retreat to a summer villa?”

“Hm...I mean why not? It’ll get the students excited and participation will be higher, our sponsors will grant us more funds if they see our results, morale will be high and we might make even more profit from our booths.” Namjoon tosses the calculator onto the table and turns to Yoongi. “It’s your call…”

“Can we, can we?” Taehyung grins, leaning towards said Student Council President.

“It sounds pretty awesome…” Hoseok glances at Yoongi and he sighs.

“Fine.”

The teacher approaches the whiteboard with a big smile, the students rambunctious behind her. “Quiet down everyone! Quiet!” She calls out and a few seconds later, the chatter simmers to a few murmurs. “As everyone knows, the sports day is coming up and this year it seems as though the prize will be…..drum roll please!”

The excited students begin to pound their desks with their fists and you roll your eyes, staring out the window. “A two day and one night retreat to a summer villa!”

“Woooah!” The kids gasp, turning to their friends instantly and babbling off.

The teacher proceeds to write down the events on the board, the kids raising their hands and shouting out what they want to do or who should do what. The sport team members are the most popular, their names being called the most but unfortunately by rules, there’s a maximum amount of how many one can participate in. “Now who wants to be part of the relay race?”

A few of the smiles fall and those who are standing, sit immediately. The relay race is the worst, the one where all the nerds and unathletic go to, the joke of all the sports; unwanted and childish compared to the other ones. Running around on a track field with a baton isn’t the most entertaining or intense to watch after all. Hardly anyone shows up when they’d rather watch the swim team, shirtless guys and all (at least that’s where the girls flock to and wherever there are girls, there are guys).

“Minah, you should do it.” Hara nudges her and she shys away.

“No…” She whispers softly. “I don’t really want t-”

“Mrs!” Hara suddenly shoots out her arm in the air, gaining the attention of the teacher. “Minah says she’ll do it!”

“Oh that’s good!” The teacher scribbles down her name and Minah manages a small smile.

“See, it’s good.” Hara snickers.

Hyeri shoots Hara a dirty look, scowling at the manipulation and taking advantage of the timid girl, but she unfortunately misses it. “I’ll do it too.” Hyeri raises her hand and Minah instantly smiles brighter, thanking her with her eyes.

The teacher nods and writes down her name. Suddenly she turns to you, quieter and the class slowly cranes their neck over. “Y-Y/N...is there something you’d like to do?”

Ever since the whole ordeal with Hara having drugs in her bag, most people became afraid of you. There wasn’t any concrete evidence that it was you but rumours quickly passed around and they weren’t far from the truth. No one bothered you though and you didn’t care about the dirty looks that Hara’s group shot when you walked past or the whispers that carried behind your back. Everyone knew better than to mess with you, teachers included. And you liked it that way.

“No.” You answer shortly and she opens her mouth to protest but shuts it a moment later.

She clears her throat awkwardly, moving onto a different topic and you stare out the window again.

Once more, your hands are wrapped around a mop’s handle and you’re relentlessly scrubbing away at the tiled floors. Yoongi, on the other hand, is lying on his stomach on the couch, chin perched in his hands as he watches you intently with a disinterested expression - as if he were a cat and you were an uninteresting toy.

Clicking your tongue with annoyance, you swivel your head up at him with a scowl.

“Do you have nothing better to do?”

“Nope.” He quips with a growing smirk. You shoot him a sharp glare before focusing back on mopping and after a long drawn out silence, he calls your name.

You hate how you like the way he says it.

“Y/N…”

“What?”

“What are you doing at the Sports Day Festival?”

“Nothing.” You slosh the mop back into the bucket, staring daggers into his eyes. “I’m skipping.”

He scoffs. “You can’t do that.”

You freeze and this time you’re the one who scoffs. “Are you really going to tell me what to do?” You jab your finger at him. “Listen Min Yoongi. I, L/N Y/N, don’t do sports or take orders from anybody.”

He’s silent, the both of you holding a long staring contest. “I’ll give you an extra two thousand.”

It takes only three heartbeats for you to answer.

“Deal.” He smirks again and you roll your eyes at him. Dignity or not, money was still money. “But why do you even care?”

“Well…” He sits up, stretching his limbs with a grunt. “You are our precious scholarship student...” He exaggerates with a small smile. “...so it would look pretty bad but...we also need another student to run the relay race in your class. They’re short one.”

“Relay race?”

“Yup.”

“No thanks.”

“.......two thousand dollars...” He reminds you in a light voice.

You groan out, tilting your head to the ceiling. “Fine! Fine!”

“Fine?” He lifts a brow.

You grimace, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yes, okay? Yes.”

He moves out his hand, gesturing for you to continue. When you stare at him blankly, he whispers. “Master.”

You turn back to the bucket, sloshing the solution so much that it spills all over the floor. “The day I call you master is the day when we’re in hell, Yoongi.”

He chuckles, back falling onto the couch and his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll be waiting then.”

The week rolls by quickly and before you know it, you’re at the back of the gymnasium, cursing under your breath as the principal says some kind of inspirational (shitty) speech. The students cheer enthusiastically, some crouching down to tie their shoelaces again, others tightening their team headbands. Everyone is wearing different coloured shirts, each grade split into two teams and when you look down at your own shirt, the bright yellow burns your eyes.

The moment Jin steps up to the podium, the chatter ceases; girls fawning over his handsome looks and the both boys admiring and envious. He hypes the crowd up, vocalizing on how it’s the first sports festival for many and the last for others; how important creating unforgettable memories are and that victories aren’t everything, encouraging everyone that anything is possible.

You yawn, looking out at the exit door and if you could quietly step away, find a tree somewhere to take a nap under. “To the Academy’s twenty-seventh Sports Festival...” A husky voice rings over the speakers and instantly your ears perk, turning your head to the stage.

Yoongi’s there with a bright smile, that you know is all too fake, leaning over to speak in the microphone. “Pride, honour, victory and embracing challenges - these are all fundamental core values within our prestigious Academy. With that being said…” He leans in closer, lips falling in a line and voice falling a pitch. “We will not tolerate any cheating or manipulation of scores. Consequences will be dire and entire teams will be disqualified…” He smiles again. “So please play fairly and have fun.”

You roll your eyes when the boys around whisper how cool he is and the girls gush over how angelic and puppy-like he looks. It’s ironic.

Maybe they’re blind.

Jimin steps up to the podium shyly, holding a piece of paper in his hand and raising his hand, reading out the athlete’s pledge while everyone happily recites after him. Bored, your eyes trail away and they ‘accidentally’ land on Yoongi...only to find him already staring right at you.

The both of you hold eye contact for a long time and you wonder why no one’s noticed. As a full minute passes by, you curse when your cheeks begin to burn but that’s only because you’re in a gymnasium full of sweaty teenagers….there’s absolutely no other reason. Obviously.

Nonetheless, you don’t give up without a fight even when his eyes are burning holes into your skin. You tilt your head, wearing a blank expression and matching his, emotionless - that is until his lips tilt up into a smirk and you roll your eyes, finally tearing your head away.

“Let the games begin!” Jimin’s voice echos suddenly over the speakers, nearly making you flinch. Everyone cheers, fist pumping the air and you waste no time rushing out the doors.

The other side of Yoongi’s lip tugs upwards as he watches you leave.

Hoseok wonders why he’s grinning like an idiot.

You’re resting against a tree trunk, the leaves rustling in the wind and providing a cooling shade. Every so often, you have to flick off some ants that manage to crawl up your arms and you grimace at the loud noises. Though the school was a good distance away, the track field was pretty close and you could still hear the cheerleaders and shouting of students.

You’re slightly surprised at how athletic the rich kids are, everyone abandoning their pristine uniforms for coloured shirts and gym shorts but you guess that Jin and Hoseok did a fairly good job at promoting the event, firing the natural competitiveness in the wealthy kids. After all most of them grew up with ambitious, business oriented parents who nurtured them in order to fight the competition of the real world.

Judging from the announcer's voice that booms over the speakers, the teams are all neck and neck. Long distance running, high jump, baseball and fencing victories have been distributed equally amongst the classes.

You do open an eye to watch the archery game since they set up the range fairly close to where you’re resting. Taehyung (who’s on your team) completely misses the target and Jimin (who’s on the opposite team, wearing a red shirt) bursts out into laughter. But he, himself, only manages to score two points in three rounds.

The sound of footsteps coming closer and closer makes your eyes open again. “What are you doing here?” Yoongi asks with a lifted brow and slightly amused glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know…” You nag sarcastically. “Take a guess.”

He scoffs, plopping down next to you and it only makes you frown. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He quips with a shrug. “Take a guess.”

You sneer at him. “What? Were you looking for me?”

“No.” He says simply. “I’m here for the shade. It’s too hot. I hate the sun.”

You look at him for a second, somehow not believing his words. “Uh huh...sure.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond and just uncaps the fresh, new bottle of water that he brought with him. When you feel a sudden coolness against your skin, your eyes open again and you shoot him a suspicious look. He’s holding the lid in his hand, arm extended to you with the water bottle and his eyes are casually looking out at the field.

You stare down at the water bottle and he clears his throat. “Drink it.”

“Why?”

“It’ll be a pain in the ass if you faint from dehydration.” He says lightly, eyes still avoiding yours.

Your lips twitch, wanting to lift but you take the bottle, quickly lifting it to your mouth, holding back. The water quenches your dry throat and you never realized you were even thirsty. Yoongi watches in slight amusement as you down half of it.

“Thanks...I guess.” You chirp out nonchalantly while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He smirks and hands you the cap of the bottle. As you twist it back on, your brows lift at his bold shirt.

“Nice red.” You nod your head to it and he follows your eyes.

“You have a nice yellow yourself. It really does the job of hurting my eyes.”

You scoff. “At least I’m not a damn stop sign.”

“Well, I’m not a school bus.” He surveys you closely and you roll your own eyes, not being able to suppress the giggle that slips through your lips.

Yoongi thinks it's slightly cute. He doesn’t say anything though.....just staring at you with a soft yet blank expression.

“Who even chose these stupid colours?” You grumble, pinching the cotton fabric.

“Taehyung and Hoseok. They’re actually the colours of the rainbow...all six teams. They thought that bold colours would be more….encouraging and bright.”

“Oh yeah...it’s bright all right.”

“Hey, at least this way if you decide to run away, I can spot you and catch you.” He smirks and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Demon…” You curse under your breath and he laughs. “What makes you think you can outrun me?”

He does a quick sweep of you from head to toe. “I can definitely outrun you.”

You scoff. “Keep being blindly confident Yoongi….it’s almost attractive.” You tilt your head at him and his smirk returns.

“Are you running the relay race?”

“Yeah.” You lean in closer, voice dropping a tone. “...for two thousand of course.”

“Everything’s just money with you, isn’t it?”

You shift back into your comfortable spot. “You bet it is.” After a moment, you turn to him again. “What about you? I don’t see you getting off your lazy ass.”

“I’m playing basketball after your relay race.”

You tilt your head at him with a smirk. “Are you gonna win?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs with a repressed grin. “Don’t come though. If you come, you’ll curse me and bring me bad luck.”

Your brows quirk and a small smile takes hold on your mouth. “You’ve tempted me now...but we’ll see...maybe.”

Yoongi grins and you shut your eyes, resting more under the cool shade as the announcer's voice booms over the intercom again.

The two girls watch as the swim team emerges from their locker rooms, tight shirts sticking to their skin and they sigh helplessly at their visible muscles. Seungkwan huffs out and rolls his eyes. “You wanna go watch the relay race after?” He asks, trying to draw away their attention.

Minzy scrunches her face up in distaste. “But it’s so boring. I’d rather get a head start on lunch break. The concession stands are always busy and the lines are always long.”

“Oh.” Hina finally peels her eyes away from the boys to look at her friend. “Isn’t that scholarship girl participating though?”

Seungkwan’s eyes twinkle and he leans in closer with a laugh. “Isn’t she the one who nearly got Hara arrested?”

Minzy rolls her eyes at his sudden excitement. “She’s also the reason why Choa and Yura have bald spots now.” Hina whispers quietly and the three can’t help but giggle together. “Have you seen their wigs?”

“It’s just rumours.” Minzy shushes her but then smirks. “They’re bitches though, so they deserve it.”

“Anyways, you wanna go to the relay race?” Seungkwan asks the two again and Hina shrugs.

“Sure, I mean why not?”

Just then the boys stand on their platforms, peeling off their shirts to reveal muscles and washboard abs. Hina and Minzy dart their eyes over instantly, following the rest of the girls with their shrieks. Sungkwan, like the other boys, sigh helplessly at the crowd of girls.

You jolt suddenly the moment ‘relay race’ gets called over the booming intercom and you’re violently shaken awake from your nap. When you look over, Yoongi’s obviously gone but...whatever. It’s not like you care.

You pick yourself up and head towards the track field but to your surprise, the bleachers and benches are all full of students, divided up by their teams and holding bright signs while shouting enthusiastically. It’s annoying but only because they’re too loud and you’ve just woken up.

You head towards the front where all the other participants are.

Minah’s head is downcasted and her hands are trembling. “Wh-why are there so many people?”

Hyeri frowns, looking around. “Yeah...everyone told me it’s suppose to be really empty…” The moment she sees you coming, she smiles softly. “Hey…”

You don’t get to respond before a hand suddenly slaps your shoulder and you almost turn around, pummeling whoever’s face with your fist. But instead you’re met with Taehyung’s boxy grin. “You’re pretty infamous.” He quips and scans the crowd.

“What?”

“I think they’re all here to watch you.” He hums and you frown. “For you to fail, trip, fall...or maybe win. You’re a wild card!”

“Uh huh. Thanks?” You nod and he turns to the other three.

“Have you guys all decided your order yet?”

“Umm…” Hyeri looks at you, glances at Chan, a shy boy who’s standing behind her and then to Minah who’s still staring at the ground. “No...not really…”

She turns to you. “I don’t care.” You immediately answer.

“I’ll go first then.” She decides with some hesitance. “Chan can go second, Minah third and..”

“I’ll go last.” You sigh out.

“Okay!” Taehyung grins and then scribbles something on his clipboard. “Make sure to pass the baton! Good luck!” He flashes you another smile and a pat on the shoulder before marching up to another team.

“Good luck.” Chan speaks up.

“G-good luck.” Minah stutters with a tiny smile.

Hyeri returns it, patting her back comfortingly before turning to you and Chan. “We can do it! ...let’s at least try not to make last place!”

You almost let out a snort at how unconfident they all are. “Yeah sure. Good luck.”

Everyone’s cheering, clapping as the first runners get into stance, exhaling and inhaling evenly. You lift a hand over your eyes when the piercing sun is too blinding. “Get ready...get set....GO!” The whistle blows and instantly they’re launching off.

Hyeri’s not too shabby, making it third place consistently through the entire run. Chan quickly gets into position and after a minute and a half, everyone’s pushing their legs for the last dash. The minute Hyeri hands him the baton, he’s off and she collapses onto the grass, Minah passing her a water bottle and complimenting her. She flashes a thumbs up, too breathless to speak and then Minah gets into position. She’s far too nervous, the way she’s visibly shaking and biting her lips. You wonder if you should say something….you don’t.

It would be generous to say Chan is a good runner, he lags behind a bit and falls to fourth place but no sooner he’s looping back around and hands the baton over.

The cheers become more intense as the second and third place are head to head. Minah is slow, becoming fifth place and you sigh out before getting into position.

Your shoelaces are tied, team fabric headband is wrapped around your arm instead of your head and your ponytail is tight. You kneel into position with the others, looking behind you to see Minah’s closed eyes and scrunched up face, pushing herself for the last stretch. You bring out your arm behind you, ready to take the baton but just then, over her own shoe, she trips and faceplants the ground.

There are some gasps in the audience, others pointing at the girl who just fell on her face. Hyeri and Chan shout encouragements from the stand and you curse under your breath. “GET UP!” You shout at her as the other teams pass their batons and fly past you.

She listens and a second later, she’s up again with her nose trickling blood. With a grunted scream, she hands you the baton, cool to your fingertips and you’re off.

You’re in last place. But you could give less shits, casually jogging - that is until you see a familiar face in the crowd.

He’s wearing a bold red shirt, arms crossed and one side of his lips are tugged in a familiar smug smirk that you hate so much. Time slows down. You hold his stare. And maybe you’re really going crazy because you can almost hear him inside your head; taunting you, provoking you, ridiculing you.

Fast, huh?

I can definitely outrun you.

The last straw is when he subtly but so clearly sticks out the tip of his tongue at you.

The three seconds end and you’re sprinting off, as hard and fast that your legs can possibly carry without collapsing. Your eyes narrow and you see nothing but the track, your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the beads of sweat forming at your forehead.

The cheering hushes down several notches, people pointing and sitting on the edges of their seats as they watch you pass, fifth place...fourth place...third place...second place.

You’ve ran from the police, from psychotic addicts and you’ve chased down those who stole from you. Just two months ago, if someone were to tell you that your talent of running away would one day be put to good use, you’d probably swear at them.

But now your lungs are on fire and your arms swiftly move back and forth in motion as your sneakers pummel against the ground. The last stretch comes into sight and you hitch a breath as you’re nose to nose parallel with a tall, blue shirted guy. Your eyes shut and you grit your teeth, tearing a scream through your throat as you pass him by a single centimeter and the red ribbon tugs against your abdomen.

Cheers erupt from the stands and when you fall to the ground, the entire yellow team comes stumbling off the bleachers. Your vision is blurs but you can still hear the loud cheers of your name, Chan gaping at you with disbelief, Minah bursting into tears of happiness while mumbling apologies and Hyeri shaking you with a huge grin.

“You just beat a member of the varsity team!”

“Holy shit! Holy shit! We won!”

“From sixth place to first?! OH MY GOD.”

“That was amazing!”

You’re dragged up by some students, others happily patting you in the back roughly. A water bottle is shoved into your hands, another person wiping off your sweat but you shift your head upwards, still breathless but trying to search for the red shirt boy. Unfortunately, there are too many people crowding around and too many wearing red.

The intercom booms from above. Taehyung’s voice rings and you can even hear his grinning. “Year one, yellow team’s victory in relay race.”

People you don’t recognize flash you thumbs up, the others on your team grinning from ear to ear and the boy who won second place even praises you, offering a position on the track and field team, to which you politely decline.

You’ve finally found a moment to yourself after lunch officially begins.

You’re at the back of the school, drinking water. “There you are.” A familiar voice calls from behind you and you almost spit out the liquid.

“What the…” You wipe your mouth, turning on your heel. “Yoongi.”

He smirks and you notice his black jersey, the letters of his name in a contrasting white. He looks good….really good. “I’ll admit…” He sighs out with a smile. “You’re good. Maybe you’d be able to outrun me.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What made you run so hard? I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t….” You answer nonchalantly, closing your water bottle. “Just wanted to prove you wrong.”

“Are you playing next?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“I hope you lose.” This time you’re the one who smirks and he scoffs.

“I know we’re on opposite teams but you can’t even wish me a ‘good luck’?” He raises a brow, amused.

“I hope you don’t fall on your face.” You sass him and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t break your legs.”

“Why does it sound like you want me to? Are you using reverse psychology? Some sort of new witchcraft to curse me?”

This time you can’t help but let your smile slip and you shrug. “I don’t know. Think what you want to think.”

He grins. “You better hope I won’t break my legs or else you’re going to pay and really become my slave.”

“Hey! It wouldn’t be my fault.”

“You just jinxed me.” He says seriously despite his gummy smile. “I’m your responsibility now.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks numb from smiling but just then someone comes stumbling from the corner of the school. “Yoongi w-” Jimin stops in his tracks when he sees the both of you together. “Uhhh……..” He nervously begins to step backwards. “Am I interruptin-”

“Nope.” “No.” You both answer simultaneously without even a glance at each other.

Jimin lets a long second pass, staring at the both of you before nodding his head. “Okay...Yoongi, they’re calling you down a-”

“Okay.” He interrupts before needing to hear more and starts walking away. Your lips fall into a straight line, watching his backside for just a mere moment.

“Good luck.” You mutter but he manages to catch it.

“Don’t need it.” He answers sharply and you scoff before turning away, walking off yourself.

Nonetheless, there’s still a smile on his lips.

The moment you shuffle into the gymnasium, you notice the serious atmosphere. There’s not a lot of cheering but rather muffled chatter and whispers. The crowd on the benches are mixed with boys and girls, all of them watching as the basketball team finishes up their warm up.

You’re standing at the very back row, behind everyone else when you notice Yoongi shooting some hoops and getting them in perfectly.

“MIN YOONGI! MIN YOONGI!” Jimin’s voice rings and you laugh at how the boy is across the gym from you, leaning over the railings and holding an obnoxious, neon sign with Yoongi’s face glued to it.

He passes the ball to his teammate and then slowly treads up to Jimin, doing some kind of hand motion, maybe telling him to get down or stop. For a second Jimin’s lips fall but then he - “MIN YOONGI!” - shouts even louder and holds the sign up higher with a mischievous smile.

A moment later, a whistle blows and the team gathers up. Much to Yoongi’s dismay, he rips his eyes off of Jimin and jogs up to the other students with matching jerseys. The game starts soon after, a loud sound emitting from the score board.

You’ll admit it. He’s good...really good.

You can’t tear your eyes away.

Yoongi steals the ball swiftly from the other team, his sneakers squeaking against the floor with every turn. His passes are flawless, shoots are perfect and not one misses, always landing in the basket. The crowd seems to think so too and though they’re not screaming obnoxiously with cheers, they’re all on the edges of their seats, gasps and anticipation letting them hang off the edge. They follow the basketball with their heads and eyes in synchronization, like pigeons, only some of them whispering to their friends briefly. When someone scores, they clap and cheer before the game starts again.

Yoongi however, doesn’t seem to mind the crowd or the murmurs of ‘how cool he is’, praises being showered from left to right. He is purely focused on the game, lips tight together and eyes narrowed. But you can’t help but swear through the game he notices you and steals a glance; his lips raising to a smile for a split second; gone when you’ve blinked again.

Maybe your eyes are playing tricks for you.

BEEEP. The scoreboard blares, signaling that it was down to the last minute. The red team was still in the lead and he didn’t even let the other team take a last shot, stealing the ball and avoiding the players. As merciless as Yoongi is, he shoots from half across the court and as the scoreboard blares once more, signaling the end of the game, the ball shoots through the hoop with ease.

The crowd erupts into cheers and standing ovations. Jimin runs onto the court, grabbing a breathless Yoongi in a hug. He’s squeezed to death but still too tired to push the boy away and when he looks over at the back of the stands, he sees you with a tiny smile, tilting your head at him with interest.

Suddenly your hand lifts and you’re giving him a thumbs up but after a second, your hand dramatically flips downwards to a thumbs down. You scrunch your face up, sticking out your tongue briefly.

And as he watches you leave, behind the rambunctious crowds where no one notices, he chuckles breathlessly.

“Hey….did you hear?” Choa leans over to Hara who’s stretching.

The both of them are participating in the gymnastics match and afterwards, the volleyball game with Yura. Said girl is beside them, fixing her makeup in the practice room mirrors. “What?”

“Apparently Y/N won the relay match.”

“Ugh.” Yura rolls her eyes. “She’s such an- UGH!”

Hara pouts her lips. “Hmph. She’s not our problem anymore.” With any other human, Hara would’ve cursed them to death or tattled to her overprotective father. But for reasons she’d rather die than admit - she’s petrified of you, intimidated and scared shitless. “I don’t care.”

“But apparently she’s going to play in the soccer match.” Choa frowns at Hara’s odd indifference. “One of their team members got injured so they replaced them with her.”

Hara turns to her with a huge frown. “I said I don’t care about her!” She yells out and Choa takes a step back.

“Oka- okay.”

All the way on the other side of the school, you’re tightening your shoelaces.

When some kids you didn’t recognize approached you and pleaded with you to replace their teammate, you declined. But they begged you knowing full well your running capabilities and when Jungkook stepped in; with his big doe eyes, you couldn’t reject the plea.

You hated how these rich kids got so close, so quickly. It seemed like they completely forgot about your social status or about scorning you. They offer bright smiles instead, pats on the backs, words of encouragement and thumbs up whenever you pass. Perhaps they pushed all the differences aside for the sake of victory but you preferred it when they feared you. It was much less….feely.

The whistle blows and you’re off in the field.

You’re not a pro at soccer by any means but you do know you’re way around the game. Excluding the ten minutes where Jungkook was explaining to you frantically of what to do (his sudden competitiveness startling you), Sungjae really liked soccer and would get you to play with him. So, from previous experiences, you aren’t shabby in the least bit.

You make a couple passes, score once and the game goes by smoothly. By the end of the match, your team’s won yet again and you detest the way you’re dragged into a huge group hug, sweaty kids jumping up and down simultaneously.

“She’s getting along with everyone pretty well, huh?” Jin turns to Yoongi who’s standing a distance away.

“Yup.”

Jin hesitates before asking curiously. “Are you jealous?”

Yoongi turns to him with a disgusted expression. “What?”

“I mean...it seems like you two have gotten pretty close.”

“She’s just the scholarship student. I was assigned to watch her closely.”

“Uh huh.” Jin nods.

“She’s psychotic, a brute and all she does is curse me.” He grumbles, turning on his heel to walk away. “Stop wasting your time thinking meaningless things. Focus on making the event a success.”

Jin sighs, following Yoongi and teasing him. “Yes president.”

You step up onto the stage by the time the last students have filtered out of the gymnasium. Yoongi’s at the podium, shuffling the papers.

He had just announced the winners and unfortunately for you but fortunately for them, the seniors stole the victory. It was pretty close, neck and neck, counted to the last scores but being the last year and last chance of being as one class, the seniors were like beasts; absolutely determined to win and they did. They obliterated people, intimidated their underclassmen and competed like they were at the Olympics. It was a well deserved victory.

“So…” You cross your arms. No one’s around but the custodian sweeping the floors, still meters away and out of earshot distance. “Am I still coming over?”

He scoffs. “My house is still dirty. Just because today wasn’t a regular school day, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on your duties, slave.”

You narrow your eyes at him, leaning on one foot. “You know I’ve been wondering...if you live alone why is it that your house is a mess every single day? Don’t tell me that you make a mess on purpo- what?”

You interrupt yourself when he suddenly scans you from head to toe. You quickly glance downwards to see if there was something wrong. You had changed back into your uniform but everything was in perfect place.

He holds your stare for a second and then mumble something under his breath. “Jealous?Jealousofwhat?I’mnotjealous.”

“What?” You frown, not able to make out what he’s saying.

He suddenly sharply inhales and then turns, striding off. “Let’s go slave.”

“I’m not your slave!”

“Yes. You are.”

“Fuck off Yoongi.”

“It’s in section two of the contract. I can call you my slave.”

“Since when?! I never saw anything like that!”

“Yes, it’s there. Do you really want proof?”

“Yes I want proof!”

As your voices fade away, the custodian can’t help but laugh tiredly. He wasn’t eavesdropping - you two were just being too loud.

Somehow he’s reminded of his relationship with his wife.

#bts scenario #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi scenario #bts yoongi fluff #bts yoongi fanfic #LOL oh Yoongi.....

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