#does it make sense for him to butt heads with his own students as they grow into their own? yes
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cocoabubbelle-newblog · 9 months ago
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My personal opinion
Spoilers
Marvel Writers: Hank McCoy/Beast is irredeemable. He is a despicable villain. The version you will see in the upcoming comics is a clone of himself with only up to his mid-1980s memories/portrayal. If original Beast does come back, it will still be as a villain and he can never come back to the original team as a hero. He has no one to blame but himself.
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konigbabe · 1 year ago
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PEACH
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader Word count: 1.7k Tags/warnings: no y/n; domestic Satoru Gojo; Gojo being a menace of a boyfriend in public; eventual smut (part V only) Summary: Gojo's an ass man. Part of my JJKS2 writing week; also written after being inspired by @greycaelum's ask.
event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi
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I.
It starts off innocently enough.
Even before you’ve got together, Satoru makes it a habit of his own to give your ass an amicable pat for "good luck" or "to bless him". Make it obvious that the young teacher’s rather fond of his fellow teacher’s backside, going as far as openly making up compliments. Spreading heat through your cheeks when his little game of teasing starts.
("Nice derriere, that skirt’s doin’ you wonders," he says, grinning from ear to ear while watching you walking down the hallway with Ijichi, discussing recent curse spirit’s activities.
Your companion’s breath hitches, a blush spreading over his cheeks when you turn around, "what does that mean?")
But you know Satoru too well, and his quirky sense of humor never fails to amuse you; even when you try to keep your face blank whenever he starts talking. Satoru's compliments are akin to a playful serenade. He isn’t holding back; not even in front of his own students.
("Y’know," forearm resting on your shoulder, he leans closer to you, "your tush deserves its own fan club and I'm officially the first member."
You don’t even look at him, rather starring blanky at the fighting students on the field, "Tush?")
II.
As your relationship with Satoru turns intimate and romantic, his playful teasing takes on a new dimension; it becomes a form of worship.
Lying sprawled on the couch, your head cradled by a pillow nestled beneath your chin, you watch the flickering TV screen with a mind adrift, sometimes diverting your gaze to scroll through your phone. Days off are a rarity amongst jujutsu sorcerers. The teachers especially. So you use the day to relax, unwind and let your body mend and rejuvenate after the latest mission.
The tranquil ambiance, however, is fleeting when Satoru returns. Discarding his shoes and jacket with a careless thud, he drops a small paper bag onto the nearest drawer before making a beeline for your relaxed form.
With a wordless playfulness, he plops the full weight of his body onto your back—or more accurately, the back of his head lands snugly on the supple, rounded globes of your butt.
"Satoru," you whine, neck straining as you try to turn around, "you’re way too heavy."
His arm restrains you, slithering around your lower abdomen like a sinuous serpent, fingers kneading the squeezable flesh of your hip. The other hand lands right at the apex of your back thigh, kneading the subtle build before moving upwards on the lower part of your butt.
"Mmh," he huffs, engrossed in massaging your body, too preoccupied to offer a proper response.
You can’t complain either; Satoru is skillful with his fingers, always knowing which spots to apply the right pressure and leaving you in a state of pure relaxation.
"You want me to stop," he asks after a second to which you promptly deny; letting out a contented sigh, prompting a small chuckle from Satoru. "Then I'm glad you're enjoyin’ it," he says, voice carrying a warm sincerity.
III.
The plates clash with each other, sound loud enough to make you think he broke it instead of washing it. A soft, gentle hum swirls around the air as Satoru moves the sponge in circles.
You watch from the arched doorway. Tall, lean frame covering your view of his task, yet the clanking confirms your initial suspicions. Satoru, focused on the chore, wears a well-worn apron over a simple, black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms that move with practiced precision.
Staying in place, you shamelessly marvel at the sight; watching him set another plate in the drying rack. Eyes gliding over the broadness of his shoulder to the contour of his waist, they land on their target.
Simple grey sweatpants, a black ribbon belt holding them in place, hide your target from your eyes. But you know where to aim when you start taking cautious, quiet steps toward Satoru.
The attack is quick. Calculated. The impact of your palm sends a loud slapping sound throughout the kitchen. A lively laugh escapes your lips at the same time Satoru’s head turns to the side, eyes locking yours in a frozen stance.
You take off.
He doesn’t rush. Calmly continuing to hum the song, he finishes the last dish and puts it on the rack. One hand turning the faucet off with a dangerous nonchalance, the other reaches for the washing cloth. Drying his hands and taking the apron off, he turns to where you ran off.
You make it to the stairs before you feel Satoru’s grip on your wrist, firm but playful. Tugs you backward; gentle force turning you around, bending you at the waist. Arm deftly sneaking around your shoulders, locking your arms by your sides as he stands tall by your side.
"You really thought you could get away with this, peach?"
His fingers, long and slender, dance over the small of your back. Barely grazing the surface of your skin over the material of your shirt; tracing a tantalizing path down your body.
As you squirm within his firm however gentle grasp, a soft and brief laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervousness and delight. "I didn't mean it," you admit jovially, the words imbued with a tinge of mischief, "I didn't know it would lend so perfectly."
"You didn’t know," Satoru chortles, leisurely placing his palm flat upon the rounded curve of your pants-covered butt, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh, exerting a measured pressure as if savoring the feeling, "Think you can win this?"
With that, his hand leaves your body–
"Wait, Satoru," you try to swat him away but his hold over your upper body remains unyielding, steadfast, allowing him to orchestrate the next move, "Gojo!"
–and he delivers the first slap; earning a surprised yelp from you, body jolting forward. The sound of the impact reverberates throughout the open space, accompanied by Satoru’s contagious laughter as he lets you go. Hand supporting your weight, making sure you don’t fall flat on your face, you still end up on the ground.
The skin of your butt stings as you palm the flesh.
"You’re in for it now, Satoru Gojo," with a daring grin, you prepare yourself to retaliate. Not now. But the time will come.
The man in question throws his hands in the air, smiling brightly as he takes a step back, "Oh, I’m scared."
IV.
"We just need some edamame, more pickled ginger, and white miso," you list the items from your phone, taking the lead as you and Satoru both stroll through the aisles. He holds the basket, staying a good step behind you with his gaze focused on your back, a smile playing at the corner of his lips–eliciting a suspicious feeling out of you.
Even with the obsidian-tinted glasses covering his eyes, the glimmer of amusement in his gaze hasn't escaped your perceptive senses. A whisper of suspicion trails through your mind; you know he's scheming something.
As you approach the edamame section, you start searching for the perfect bag, seeking the one with the right plumpness and vibrancy.
But before you can grab one, Satoru unexpectedly announces “butt-five” before springing forward with playful exuberance, the resounding clap of his hand meeting your butt reverberating through the store like a percussion note, commanding the attention of nearby shoppers.
Involuntarily, you release a startled, high-pitched yelp—a symphony of surprise and embarrassment entwined. But before any further fallout can unfold, Satoru suppresses the escalating situation, covering your mouth with his warm, large hand, and steering you behind an aisle. Out of sight from curious onlookers.
Holding back his laughter, you feel his chest pressed tightly against your back, vibrating as he silently laughs, palm flat against the lower part of your face, muffling the remnants of your outburst.
"Sorry ‘bout that," he manages to stifle his laughter, an undercurrent of amusement still evident in his voice. "Couldn't resist, y’know?"
Through the slight crack between his fingers and your lips, you muster a muffled threat, "I’m gonna kill you.”
He releases his hand, feigning innocence, his eyes wide with mock surprise.
"What?" he questions you, knowing full well the extent of his antics.
"You’re a dead man walking, Satoru Gojo."
V.
Satoru has you in a vice grip; arms encircling the fat of your thighs with unrelenting strength, fingernails making deep crescent moons into your sensitive skin, setting your whole body aflame. Every inch of your being screams for more as you sink into the mattress, burying your face into the pillows to muffle all sounds of pleasure his mouth is drawing out of you.
He’s merciless. Relentless. Ruthless.
Tongue teasing your soaked slit, lapping hungrily at you like a man starved. The tip of his nose gleaming with your juices as he expertly fucks his tongue inside of you.
In and out. Going as deep as the position allows him.
Pulling your body more into him, burying his face into you; so close that it seems as if he wishes to be swallowed by your cunt whole.
You can barely concentrate before he pulls away; especially when another wave of pleasure washes over you. Wet lips worshipping your hungry bud, thin strands of wetness glistening around it, something he greedily laps up before moving upwards. His wet tongue leaves trails of fire along the fleshy swell of your ass, teeth soon following suit as they bite lightly into the plump globes.
Satoru nibbles at the flesh, one hand sneaking back between your legs to cup your sex, tease the entrance with his fingertip, collecting the wetness before pushing in two fingers. He fills you up, soon adds another finger as his mouth continues its sweet assault on your ass.
"Could eat this ass any day–"
He drives his fingers in and out of you. Fast and unrelenting; massaging your walls while making you gasp as he moves his mouth down, licking and biting at your back thighs before concentrating back on your asscheeks.
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milykins · 2 months ago
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TMNT Headcanon: Owning a Business
I was inspired by @thelaundrybitch with her post about the turtles having jobs so this is my version.
If the turtles managed to successfully integrate themselves into society, I could see each one owning their own business. These jobs are based on an RP that I’m in with a friend of mine. The idea is that Donnie had invented cloaking devices to allow them appear human and also had gained a sizeable income by marketing and selling his inventions.
No TW needed for this
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Mikey
Easily the owner of his very own comic book store.
He has to learn how to run it though.
He’d be determined to learn, he may act scatterbrained but when he really applies himself, watch out.
Donnie can’t watch his little brother fail in this endeavor and gives him a crash course on how to run a small business.
Once he has the basics figured out, he loves it. He’s finally around likeminded people and he can finally put his geek knowledge to good use!
He’d give the best comic book recommendations, having read as many as he could get his hands on.
There would also be a table section for TTRPGs and card games.
The store would become a popular hangout for Magic the Gathering and Dungeons and Dragons.
Mikey would schedule themed days where people could dress up as their favourite characters for discounts.
He’d host live action role-playing events, board game nights, trivia contests and movie nights.
He would thoroughly let his geek flag fly and his store would be his pride and joy.
Raphael
Runs a motorcycle repair shop that also deals in custom paint jobs.
Co-owner with Casey Jones.
Raph has always loved fixing up and working with his bikes so this is an easy choice for him.
Casey still does vigilante stuff on the side but April is very relieved when he goes into this partnership with Raph.
It’s Casey’s idea to add the customization of bikes alongside the repairs.
The two of them do butt heads initially while learning how to run it but once they have it down they become a good team.
Difficult customers have no chance when dealing with these two.
Shortchanged? Have fun getting your bike back.
"You could’ve fixed it better? Be my guest and don’t come back, asshole."
"Yeah, we can get the part, no we aint’t gettin’ it from your shady buddy’s backyard business."
Besides the odd jerk-off customer, Raph thoroughly enjoys his work.
He also uses the garage to work on his own custom bikes. Occasionally he’ll sell them and it becomes hugely popular.
Eventually he starts auctioning them off and donating a part of the proceeds to charity.
He’ll take a lot of pride in his work and finds he really enjoys making an honest living.
He’ll still do patrols with his brothers and keep up with his training.
Leonardo
Owner and Sensei of The Green Dragon Dojo.
This just made perfect sense for Leo. He loved training and all things martial arts so why not pass on his skills to those who wanted to learn.
He teaches adults and children alike.
He secretly prefers teaching the little ones though.
He loves their eagerness to learn and how they call him ‘Sensei Leo’.
He does end up creating a small team to do martial arts competitions.
His students almost always win.
His classes become so popular that Leo finds he needs to hire more help.
In my headcanon he’s made peace with Karai and The Foot Clan and decides to go to them.
Karai is very pleased he’s asking for her help and agrees to teach classes alongside him.
Leo still leads his brothers in patrols but is more relaxed than he used to be, due in part from getting older and now having an outlet to teach.
Donatello
Donnie creates his own company.
Owner and CEO of Hamato Tech.
It has a research lab with a whole section dedicated to his inventions.
He’s dedicated to the betterment of mankind and creates patents for all of his inventions.
He finally has the resources and funding needed to complete his many projects.
Super nice guy to work for, loved by all of his employees.
He accepts students for paid internships.
He has a preference for underprivileged students. The ones that wouldn't normally receive this kind of opportunity.
He wants to give keen young minds the opportunities he never had while growing up.
It would take many years but he would eventually have a huge discovery that would result in him getting nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.
He’d win it too.
@iridescentflamingo
@thelaundrybitch
@danceingfae
@redsrooftopprincess (I hope this is okay, I know you agreed to put me on your list so I thought I'd return the favour)
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kimbap-r0ll · 2 years ago
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Hi there, I have a request!
A reader who is also half-fae, but unlike Sebek, they tend to reject their fae side more and prefer being treated as human. Maybe they try to pass off as a normal human all along. How would Diasomnia react to that?
Thanks and take your time!
Ooh this is interesting, thank you for the ask!
Diasomnia reacts to a half-fae!reader who embraces their human side
Malleus
He never found it to be a bad thing for you to embrace your human side. In fact, he quite likes it that you are comfortable with it, as a lot of half-fae find themselves pushing the human side of them away. Some may view it as a weakness, but to him it's a strength
Being human is something faes see as being magicless, being less skilled at spells, but you were proving them wrong by making it into NRC, achieving high grades, and becoming a top student at Diasomnia. A lot of students can tell he sees you as one of his favorite Diasomnia students
If you were trying to hide the fact that you were fae in front of him, it will fail miserably. He can tell you're half-fae from just seeing you. If you ask him why, he'll say that there's an aura he senses from you, but that's all.
Overall, I feel like with his curiosity of humanity and his overall interest in making friends, you would quickly become good friends and maybe more with Malleus. Also if anyone tries to bully you for your background, you show them that you're stronger than they are or Malleus steps in and just gives them a mean stare haha
Lilia
Similar to Malleus, he knew you had some fae blood in you when you stepped into the Diasomnia dorm. He doesn't say anything, but when you tell him that you're human, he laughs and says that there's nothing to be ashamed of being both fae and human.
"You're like the best of both worlds!" He would joke. If anything though, he does find your skills in magic and your overall vibe to be super nice. It makes him happy that you aren't ashamed of being mixed, something that some more conservative fae don't like
You and Sebek might butt heads often, but it gets diffused when Lilia steps in and tells Sebek that he should try dueling you and seeing who wins. Lilia also reminds you not to be ashamed of being half fae: it makes you you anyways.
He might ask you about certain human norms or human media. He's really into video games and music, especially those outside of fae culture. Because of this, be sure to share your own interests with him or maybe help expand his video game library by playing some with him
Silver
He's one of the only humans in Diasomnia, something that he doesn't mind but sometimes gets picked on for. You showing up to the dorm was more or less a sense of relief for him, but even more so when you showed everyone how strong you were
He didn't know you were half fae until Lilia told him one day. Silver was telling Lilia about how strong you were and how he was planning to train with you. "Yes, and they're super open about being fae and human too, it's refreshing to hear such nice things for once about that," Lilia might respond and that's when Silver just blinks a few times and goes "Wait. What?!"
You don't have to worry about getting into any arguments with him since he really doesn't mind your background. You might have to teach him some human culture stuff though since, while human, he grew up with fae.
I feel like he would tell you to embrace your fae side more too. Though he's fully human, he wants you to know that you should love yourself from both perspectives.
Sebek
He's someone you would definitely argue a lot with. While he's ashamed of his human side, you're ashamed of your fae side. Silver might say that you two should merge and become one person so you guys can just like both sides equally haha
Sebek does admire your strengths, but he wants to know what it is that makes you want to be human. Also if you wanted to pass off as human to him, it's impossible because he's half fae and he could sense a similar vibe from you. He also reminds you of how good being a fae is as well
Though there's a lot of arguments, I feel like you two would get along. If there's any students that try to make fun of either of you for being mixed, you two have each others' backs. He might not agree that being human is better, but he would rather not hear negative comments on either of your backgrounds
He might develop a quiet crush on you at some point. This is mainly because of how kind you are but also with how talented you are in magic. With this, he might open up to being human more, which is something you should help him with. You two might end up helping each other embrace both fae and human sides together.
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g-o-bs--fanfictions · 21 days ago
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Jealous M! Whitney
A/N: I'm not preparing y'all for shit in this one. All you need to know is that the Trigger Warnings for this are canon typical and the reader is completely gender neutral. Enjoy. :)
A/N 2: I can say with certainty that I fully hope Vrel sees this, lol.
You rush out the school gates, swearing under your breath. You'd fallen asleep in class and had earned yourself a detention. It seems, however, that Leighton could sense that you were anxious to leave because she decided to subject you to 30 minutes of menial tasks before allowing you to leave. You still need $300 to pay Bailey and you'll be damned if you're gonna miss peak time at the brothel. Lost in your thoughts, you fail to notice Whitney and his cronies tailing you. You grimace as you feel an arm wrap around your waist and relax only slightly as you realize who said arm belongs to.
"Where's my favorite slut running off to? You're not avoiding me, are you?" He asks, blowing a cloud of smoke into your face. You frown in response.
"Whit, I really don't have time for this today. I need to get going." You try to pull yourself from his grip, only for him to pull you even closer. His friends laugh at your plight.
"You can't possibly be too busy to spend time with me." Whitney responds stubbornly, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground. "Seriously, where are you headed?"
You sigh, briefly closing your eyes. You already know that he's not going to leave you alone without a satisfying answer, however, you also know that his friends won't let you hear the end of it if they knew where you were going. No fucking way are you letting that happen. You give Whitney a pointed look, shooting a quick glance towards his friends before raising an eyebrow. In response, he rolls his eyes before turning his attention to his flock.
"Fuck off for a bit, will you?" He says. "The slut's feeling shy."
To their credit, the group does back off, but not without snide remarks and snickers at your expense. You'll kick their asses for it later, but at least you have a semblance of privacy for the moment.
"So, you gonna tell me now, or what?" Whitney asks, impatient as always.
"I'm going to the brothel. Gotta shake my ass for pocket change. Peak time." You answer bluntly. "If you want to come with me, fine. But I really need to get going."
The look on Whitney's face switches between confusion, shock, and pride so fast you can barely register it. He apparently settles on giving you the goofiest grin you have ever seen on his face.
"Holy shit. You actually work at that shithole?"
"Yes, I'm quite popular, actually. And don't call it a shithole. I'm pretty sure Briar would have you shanked for that."
Whitney lets out a loud, barking laugh that forces you to wince. His friends glance over, confusion written on their faces, but return to their own devices right after.
"Oh my god, I've gotta fucking see this. Hold on." He turns to call his friends back over before you quickly stop him. He looks back at you, confused.
"Mm-mm. If you want your friends to see me in action, it'll have to wait until the weekend. If a group of students is seen entering the brothel in the middle of the week, a raid is sure to follow." You shoot him a grin. "I can only evade the police for so long. But seriously, you need to decide because I've gotta go."
He lets out another laugh at this but does seem to consider your words. With a groan, he complies.
"Fine." Whitney begins to guide you down the sidewalk. He calls to his friends over his shoulder as the two of you begin making your way to the brothel. "I'll catch up later. Fuck off somewhere." The sounds of frustrated groans and complaints grow faint as you continue on your way.
As you walk, you answer Whitney's multiple questions. Part of you is surprised he's taking such an interest in something you have going on in your life. However, considering the subject matter... What else did you expect?
The brothel eventually comes into view and a gleeful shiver runs up your spine as you see a large group be granted entrance. You take in their attire, noting the crisp suits adorning their bodies. Your knees almost grow weak at the faint glint of a gold cufflink standing out among a sea of navy blue.
"Jesus. Get ahold of yourself, slut." Whitney teases, amused at the almost predatory glint in your eye. "You really get paid that well here?"
"When groups like that are in, I absolutely do." You answer, picking up your pace slightly. "I've gotta get in there before someone else can snag them."
Whitney chuckles, keeping pace with you. As you approach the door, a bouncer you've come to recognize well greets you with a nod.
"You've got that look in your eye, kid." She says as the two of you enter. "Go get get 'em, hon." She winks at you.
You smile at her and lead Whitney into the brothel. You spot the group settling in right in front of your favorite stage. Perhaps they're here to see you specifically? A glimmer of hope and a dash of dread fill you at the thought of the possibility. It seems you're getting more popular than you previously thought. You're not quite sure how happy you are about that.
"I'm gonna go change. My favorite stage is over there." You say, pointing it out.
"Looks like your 'friends' are parked there. You got fans?" Whitney says, giving you an almost proud glance.
"I sure fucking hope so." You say, beginning to make your way to the dressing room. You stop briefly and turn to face him once more, looking him up and down. "If you're gonna fuck anyone here, just stay away from Big Red. She'll break you."
You leave a bewildered Whitney behind as you turn and head into the dressing room.
Whitney couldn't quite place how he was feeling. You were an amazing dancer. That's without a doubt. He'd have to remember to ask you to dance for him sometime. But, that's not the problem.
You worked in a brothel, what else did he expect to happen here? He shouldn't be angry that you spotted a raised wallet in the crowd. He shouldn't feel such burning rage at the fact that you strutted off stage, weaving through the crowd of gawkers toward that fucking piece of leather. He shouldn't have wanted to storm down that hallway and beat the shit out of the man you led down it.
Whitney didn't do shit like that. It shouldn't fucking matter. He's sold your services to people before. Then, why the fuck is this bothering him so much? Well, yeah, it's been happening less often now, but still! What the fuck is wrong with him?
The realisation dawns on him as he spots you exiting the hallway, a smile on your face and the man a few steps ahead of you.
No, no. Whitney doesn't do sappy shit.
He tries to deny it as he sees you begin to make your way back to the stage, a woman spotting you as you do.
He refuses to let you make him feel this shit.
The woman leers at you. You give her a wink.
Don't you fucking dare.
The woman begins to approach the stage. You've almost reached the steps. Whitney hesitates. For once in his life, he's genuinely weighing his options.
He doesn't care. He knew what to expect.
Your foot hits the first step. Whitney blinks and, suddenly, he's next to you, his hand gripping your wrist. You look at him, confusion etched on your stupidly perfect face.
Fucking recover.
"You're my slut." Whitney says. "I pick who you fuck next."
You smile at him. Did his heart just flutter? No.
"Look for the thickest wallet." You kiss him and walk on stage. He tries to tell himself that the sudden thumping in his chest is from the music that fuels your second dance.
He turns, leaning against the wall. His eyes scan the forming crowd, eyeing pockets and purses. He spots the target and locks in, waiting for her hand to slip into her pocket.
Whitney doesn't do sappy shit.
But maybe, you'd start to be an exception.
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shakespearean-snape · 2 years ago
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There's also another component to Percy Weasley I always found interesting. He's very ambitious. This is typically a Slytherin trait, which makes Percy another very good example of how house traits intersect and were never intended to be clear definers of a student's personality or nature. And it makes sense that Percy is ambitious, he grew up in a large family that always struggled financially and were often subjects of shame and ridicule because of it.
Importantly, Arthur Weasley turned down promotions to remain in his job at the Ministry because he felt very passionately about it and saw the job as very important. I don't think he should be treated harshly for that. In many respects, the Ministry of Magic regarding the issue of Muggle artefacts being misused by magical folk and the danger or shock it could cause for unsuspecting Muggles (not to mention the threat it could pose to their own Secrecy Laws) is indicative of the larger institutional prejudices that even made the rise of someone like Voldemort possible. Choosing to remain in the job with little respect or worthwhile payment because you believe in something is admirable, it just also had the unfortunate consequence of leaving his family in a tight spot financially.
Percy was perhaps a little too young to see it that way. All he saw was the effects it had on his family, the shame he and his siblings internalized and dealt with at school and the fact Arthur seemed content to consign his family to abject poverty because he had no real drive or ambition to rise in the ranks at the Ministry. So, Percy was ambitious. The secondhand book he checked out on how to build influence, it was all about taking a path different from his father and gaining influence and respect because respect and recognition was something he so clearly craved.
He preened over being a prefect, and then being Head Boy; it was recognition, a sign of status and respect and authority. Percy and Hermione were similar in some respects, in that they both had something they felt they needed to prove. Hermione wanted to prove that as a Muggle-born she belonged in wizarding society as much as any half-blood or pureblood did. Percy wanted to prove that he was a somebody of consequence; not just another of the numerous Weasleys that people snickered about because there were so many of them and "Why in Merlin's name does a family so poor keep multiplying? Maybe if they stopped having children left and right they could all afford new clothes and books and ...har har see how this pureblood family have fallen led by their joke of a father who won't network within the Ministry and turns down promotions?"
I would wager Percy resented being poor and mocked by society in the same way Ron was always sensitive about it (tragically he and Ron had far more in common and could really have understood each other if not for Fred and George setting the tone and perceptions about Percy) and then he came home and was a subject of mockery for his ambitions to do more than what he felt his family had managed for themselves. Molly didn't help by constantly comparing his achievements, it painted a target on his back and helped create the tension and rifts between him and his other siblings (aside from Ginny, it seems) but I don't believe she did it out of malice anymore than Arthur remaining in the job he felt passionately about was done to harm his family. All the same, at school or at home Percy was often the butt of the joke and no one wants to be that.
Then there's the Harry of it all. From the outside, it's easy to envy Harry if you're an ambitious boy like Percy who craves respect and financial independence and an ability to rub elbows with the important people. All his best efforts of impressing the right people and Barty Crouch Sr. can't be bothered to remember his name correctly, meanwhile, Harry is treated like a person of consequence by the Minister of Magic and offered a seat beside him. Harry is constantly being praised by his family and the rest of wizarding society. He was made Seeker his very first year as a reward for breaking the rules, he drags Ron into danger and is praised for defeating their possessed DADA professor, and helps win Gryffindor the House Cup for the first time the very first year he was a prefect, the next he saves Ginny when she's taken (again taking Ron along with him into danger with yet another incompetent and dangerous DADA professor) and wins them the House Cup again, he gets to participate in the Triwizard Tournament on a technicality and WINS, etc. etc. Harry is beloved, the hero, The-Boy-Who-Lived and who his family never stop gushing over.
From an outsider's perspective, entirely unaware of Harry's trials and tribulations and human struggles, Harry is the Gary Stu that came crashing onto the scene with everything he ever wanted. Respect. Access to people of influence and importance. Independent wealth. The absolute love and adoration of all his family.
When he tries to talk about his work and relate a bit to his father that may be a subject of mockery by his siblings and his father might tune out but when Harry is around Arthur is all ears because Harry has access to the Muggle world and that is of more interest to him than lengthy conversations about cauldron thickness with his son. And again, I don't believe it's in malice, merely that very human habit we all have to focus on what is interesting to us and fail to sometimes see how we're hurting someone by tuning out what they have to say about what is interesting to them or maybe even just a gateway to trying to relate and build a connection to you.
So, Percy's anger is multifaceted. All year he was left to juggle responsibilities well above his pay-grade and it's not like he didn't mention more than once how important he had become to Crouch Sr., it's only that his family had tuned him out because he was an ambitious boy who wanted to be important and often exaggerated his importance or tried to volunteer himself for bigger things (for instance, the way he tried to insert himself in the conversations between Dumbledore and Snape after Sirius broke into Hogwarts on Halloween in POA) because he was literally employing the "fake it till you make it" strategy to his life well before the slogan caught on as a thing. So when the fallout comes and he's the fall boy he's once again back to being the joke until....the tides of favor turn.
Suddenly the Minister is helping HIM out and Harry is the one out of favor. Only his family don't side with the Minister (or him) they side with Harry and that's the blow. He just can't win. So he chooses the side that seems to value him. The one willing to choose and respect him and promise him status and something other than the life of abject mockery and belittlement his father always seemed to settle for that left him struggling from the bottom to begin with.
Honestly it's a pity Percy didn't see Snape in a better light because I can only imagine how hilarious the conversations could have been had these two gotten together and waxed on about the woes of Harry Potter being in their lives. They were also both ambitious boys for understandable reasons who made the wrong choice and burned bridges with people they loved in their youth only to see the error of their choices and attempt to right that wrong (and still tragically lose someone they loved in the process).
Post-war Percy is interesting because we caught a glimpse of more of his personality just prior to Fred's death and I think it was just enough to be great fodder for speculative fiction on what he may have been like after the war and his relationship to his family. Alternatively, I won't shame people who felt that narratively Percy having a redemption arc that also ended in his death would have made a tragic kind of sense. I can see that too, given that is exactly what JKR did with Snape, but definitely if the only reason is because they hated Percy and loved Fred it is a pity to look at these two young men and treat Percy's life as something acceptably interchangeable because they didn't like him and he could be a prat in what was quite honestly a very relatable way (and which he acknowledged himself and I did love him for that too) if you've ever been a sibling with terrors for younger siblings or dealt with a lot of mockery because of your family's financial circumstances or reputation.
The whole Percy storyline in GoF really gets me now that I’m older because the kid is 18. He’s…an infant, and he talks like he’s just So Much Older, and he’s DOING things that a kid straight out of school should not be handling. 
Which when you’re young, you’re like, “what a tool” but now I feel like…how are Arthur and Molly not having sirens going off in their minds as Percy is like, “oh yeah Mr. Crouch put ME in charge of everything!” 
How…is no one?? Concerned??? And if they are concerned, why aren’t they DOING anything? 
I don’t think this year gets the credit it deserves in setting the stage for everything else that happens with Percy the whole series. The Ministry lets Percy flounder and fake this whole year, basically–and then tries to throw HIM under the bus for it, if I remember correctly. Because he “should have noticed” (because entry-level assistants are SO trained and paid to like…investigate whether their bosses are having mental breakdowns okay sure sure sure). 
He’s already been taken down a peg and kind of saved by Fudge. And THAT’S when his dad wants to tell him something might be up and he has to rethink everything? 
It’s too late. The intervention, the discussions…they should have been happening now. Right now, as Percy starts finding himself in WAY over his head for CLEARly suspicious reasons, and he isn’t noticing. Because he’s too excited and too proud and too self-involved…and too YOUNG to have a frame of reference for what’s happening and how utterly abnormal it is.
Someone needed to step in HERE. Not when their feet are to the fire six months from now. 
They lose Percy in Goblet of Fire, make no mistake. 
11K notes · View notes
jungkxook · 4 years ago
Text
—the love bug. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut
⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you 
⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex
⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog! 
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You see Jungkook every night without fail.
When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.
Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.
You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.
This night isn’t any different.
You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.
You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.
“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”
The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.
“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”
Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”
Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.
“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”
“No thanks.”
“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”
Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”
The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”
“She said she’s not interested.”
The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”
Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.
“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”
“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”
You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.
“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.
“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”
Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”
“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”
You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.
As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.
“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”
“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”
The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”
Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”
“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”
“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.
Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”
He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.
“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”
Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.
“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.
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As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.
You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.
Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.
You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.
You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.
You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.
You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.
“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”
Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”
Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”
Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”
“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”
The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.
“Well, anyone, for that matter.”
The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?
“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”
The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”
Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.
“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”
You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.
“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.
But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.
Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.
“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”
“It’s you!” You exclaim.
“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”
Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”
You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.
When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.
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The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.
Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.
Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.
“Jungkook!”
He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.
“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.
“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”
“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”
“You have? Who told you?”
This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”
A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.
“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”
Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”
“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”
“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.
“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”
Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.
Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”
Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”
“Hey, Y/N!”
Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.
“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”
“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”
“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”
Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.
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That night you can hardly sleep.
You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.
It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.
A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.
“You again?” You ask humorously.
“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”
“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”
The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”
“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.
“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”
“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”
“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”
“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”
“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”
“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.
“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”
“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”
You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.
“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”
“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”
He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”
You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.
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The days pass in a very typical blur.
Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.
It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.
“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”
Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”
Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.
“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”
“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”
“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”
As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.
“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”
Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”
And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.
Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.
If only he could be so brave without that mask.
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On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.
Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.
“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”
As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.
“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”
You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”
He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”
“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”
When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.
“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”
“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”
“You think so?”
“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”
“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I can name a few. Like the police.”
“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”
Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.
“Go ahead.”
Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”
You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.
“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”
Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.
“Jungkook, I━”
But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”
“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.
You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━
“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”
You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”
“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”
Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”
The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.
“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”
“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”
The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.
“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”
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You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.
Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.
In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.
On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.
You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.
You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.
“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.
His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”
“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”
His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.
“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”
“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”
You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?
It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.
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Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.
You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.
“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”
“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”
You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.
“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”
“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”
The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.
“To add to the mystique?” he says.
“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”
“They would never be able to catch me.”
“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”
You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.
“What fame? People want to lock me up.”
“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”
“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”
“How does that make you feel?”
One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.
“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”
A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.
“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”
“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”
He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.
“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”
When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.
“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”
This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.
The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.
Jungkook.
It’s Jungkook.
The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.
The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”
“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.
Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”
“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”
He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.
“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”
His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.
He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.
“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”
The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.
“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.
He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.
“Can I show you something?”
You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”
“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”
You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.
You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.
You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.
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You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.
It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.
The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.
You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.
You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.
A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.
“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”
His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”
He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”
The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”
“Well, if you insist.”
He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.
He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.
There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.
You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.
You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”
Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.
“What’s up?”
Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”
Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”
Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?
“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.
“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”
Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.
“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”
Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”
“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”
“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”
A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”
Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then you’re kissing him.
You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.
You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.
“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”
“I’m fine,” he says weakly.
You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”
“No.”
“What?”
You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.
“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”
You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”
“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.
Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.
“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”
Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”
When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.
“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”
“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”
“It’s not that simple━”
“It sure seems like it is.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”
Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.
“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”
“But I can handle it,” You insist.
“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”
“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”
Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.
You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
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You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.
In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.
It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.
There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.
“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”
Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.
“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”
Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.
“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”
“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”
“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.
“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”
You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”
You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━
“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”
Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.
He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.
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You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.
Red and blue.
Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.
Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.
“Oh my god! Jungkook!”
Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.
“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”
His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.
“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”
“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”
“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”
A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”
Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.
Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.
When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.
“I’m sorry.”
He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.
“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”
Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”
He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.
There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.
You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.
Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.
Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.
It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.
“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”
You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.
“Come here,” he mumbles.
You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.
“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.
You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”
“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”
You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.
“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”
“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.
“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”
He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.
“Really?”
Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”
He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man is cool.”
“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”
A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.
“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”
“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”
The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.
“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.
“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”
You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.
“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”
“I’m listening.”
“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”
He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”
You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.
Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.
“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”
The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.
“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”
God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.
Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.
He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”
His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.
“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”
Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.
“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.
He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.
“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”
Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”
He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.
“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”
For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.
“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”
You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.
“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.
He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.
Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.
Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.
“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.
“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”
And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.
“Like this?” You gasp.
He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”
“Tell me,” You breathe.
Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.
“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”
You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.
You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.
So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”
He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.
Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.
He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.
When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.
“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”
He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”
Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”
“I know that,” he chuckles.
“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”
Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.
Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years ago
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May I ask for headcanons about First Years’ (including Grim if you could) reactions to an MC who seems oblivious to danger to the point where they seem a bit too eager to throw their life away, and when they asked the MC just answered, “Oh, I thought you guys knew already!” Then removes their own head! “I’m a zombie! Can’t be afraid of a little danger if yer already dead!”
I just thought it would be funny.😆
I skipped writing for Grim because the maximum number of characters I write per headcanon request is 5!
Curiouser and Curiouser...
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Ace has generally been pretty nonchalant when you rush off into dangerous situations. He makes little effort to stop you, claiming that your dumb decisions are your own. “Your life, not mine,” he’ll often say with a shrug. “Have fun, and try to not die, Ramshackle Prefect!”
The moment you detach your head and introduce yourself as a zombie, Ace takes a while to recover from the shock. His jaw just hangs open for several seconds while he stares at you, so your headless body has to lean over and close his mouth for him.
He starts to act like he knew all along that you were a zombie. “Duh, that’s why I let you do all those dumb things. It totally wasn’t because I wanted to save my own butt... obviously!” (In truth, Ace really didn’t know beforehand, but he almost has you convinced that he did, because he embraces your zombieness quite quickly.)
... And by “embraces your zombieness”, I mean that he uses your easily detachable limbs to carry out pranks on the NRC student body. He’ll ask to borrow your head for practice, then show up to Basketball Club with you tucked under an arm and introducing it as “the ball”. (This freaks Jamil out, but gives Floyd a good laugh.)
Other times, Ace will ask you for “a hand” or to “break a leg”--and you tear the body part he calls for clean off and toss it to him! He loves to do this in spaces with lots of witnesses around (the cafeteria, the courtyard) just to watch them panic and scramble to make sense of it.
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Deuce can be just as reckless as you—but at some point, he does become concerned and tell you that you need to draw the line somewhere. “I’m just worried about you. You need to be a little more aware of the value of your own life!”
When Deuce learns that you’re a zombie (and you pop off your head to demonstrate), he recoils and gives a bloodcurdling scream! He’s so visibly shaken that you need sit him at a bench and let him calm down on his own. You set your head in his lap and hold onto his arm all the while, in case he feels faint!
Once he comes to terms with reality, Deuce immediately apologizes to you. “Sorry, (Y/N)! I shouldn’t have reacted like that...! Sure, it was unexpected to hear, but it shouldn’t change anything between us. You may be a zombie, but you’re also still my friend!!”
In the days to come, Deuce approaches you with a number of questions. It turns out, he’s really curious about what life is like as a zombie! (“Do you actually eat brains? I heard that eating brains makes you smarter, so do you think I should start doing that, too?”)
He takes extra care to control his bad boy side around you. Deuce knows that if he loses it, a good, misaimed blow could send your head or your limbs flying off--and he wants to do what he can to minimize the trouble he causes for you.
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Jack tends to keep to himself, but the more and more you throw yourself in harm’s way, the more quietly concerned he becomes. He always seems like he has something he wants to say to you, but manages to hold himself back from blurting it out at the last second.
Of the first years, Jack’s the most calm about discovering your true nature. In fact, he seems surprisingly relieved the moment you remove your head. “I was waiting for the right moment to say this, but... I’ve been smelling something rotting whenever you’re around. It all makes sense now that I know you’re a zombie.”
He acts unfazed by the revelation, but actually goes about adapting to it in his own ways. For example, that rotting smell? Jack will keep an extra stick of deodorant or a small spray bottle of cologne (Vil’s work, not his) in his duffel bag and offer it up to you on warm and humid days, when the weather accelerates your decay.
Jack also keeps rolls of athletic tape on hand, in case you ever need your limbs affixed to you! He’s always willing to take a few minutes out of his day to help you out--now stay still while he ties this arm down!
If it’s raining, he’ll offer his umbrella or strip off his jacket and toss it at you. “... Take it,” Jack grunts. “You need it more than me. Extra moisture isn’t good for you, right? Even if you’re immortal, it wouldn’t kill you to look after yourself better.”
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Epel admires your spunk, but he can’t hep but think that maybe you should be more tactful about who you challenge. He knows from his own experience getting the crap beat out of him by Vil that it’s smarter to pick and choose your battles instead of rushing every single one that comes your way.
When you come clean and pop off your head, Epel squeals with delight. “Th-That’s... so... METAL!!!” He thinks it’s so cool that you’re a zombie--monsters and the undead are concepts he has always loved since he was a little boy, so he’s really excited to be able to meet one himself!
Learning this really makes Epel look up to you! You’ll often find him trailing after you with sparkling eyes, hoping to catch you doing something cool or tough! And if anyone bothers you? Epel will holler at’m to buzz off, or else you’ll eat their brains! (Okay, technically he’s putting words in your mouth, but he’s also defending you.)
If he’s too short to reach something, no problem! Epel can usually turn to you and ask to borrow an arm, which he then uses as an extension of his own to pick an apple or to high-five someone. He returns your arm with a bow and a grateful thank you every time--never treating you like a tool, but as a friend to whom he owes a favor.
He puts the sewing lessons Vil puts him through to some use! Since your zombie flesh is pliable and lacks flowing blood, it’s easy for Epel to sew decorative patches for your skin. They’re like temporary tattoos made of fabric--and you and Epel have hours and hours of fun talking about what designs he should make for you next.
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Sebek encourages your confrontations, no matter how weak (or nonexistent) the reasoning for it is. It shows that you have a spine and the courage to fight for what you believe in, even if you’re at a disadvantage!
He lets out the most unholy of screeches when he discovers that you’re a zombie! You’d think he just discovered a dead body (well... technically, that’s a half-truth) with how loud he’s being. Sebek sputters incoherently while his eyes whip back and forth between your severed head (that casually rests in your hands) and your headless body.
“T-To think that you were not a mere human, but among the ranks of the undead this entire time...!! YOU’VE HAD ME FOOLED!!” he bellows, clenching a fist and slamming it against his chest. “ACCURSED BEING, UNHOLY SPIRIT!!”
There’s an awkward period of time where Sebek keeps his distance from you (no less than 6 feet). Every so often, he casts suspicious looks in your direction, and as the days pass, he slowly piles on the paraphrenia! Garlic necklaces, old talismans, silver amulets... (Just how superstitious is he?)
It takes him a while (and a loooong talk with Lilia)) for him to relax his guard. Sebek meets you again, extending a hand and giving an apologetic smile. “I confess that it was rash of me to jump to conclusions regarding your character. For this, I deeply apologize. Let us start over, human--er, no... zombie... No, that’s still not right.” He takes a deep breath, ands looks you right in the eye as he delivers his next words. “Let us start over, my friend.”
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monthofsick · 2 years ago
Text
High Tide
Nov(emeto)ber 2022, Day 27: Beach/pool setting
OCs: Corey, Jesse
I was so determined not to be late with any submission, but here we go. This was inspired by a similar video and I couldn't get it out of my head. Vomit + water is just such a nice combination.
TW: Vomit, alcohol
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He shouldn't have touched the alcohol. Corey had known from the very beginning that it was a grave mistake. He never drank. Being as obsessed with sports and an overall healthy lifestyle as he was, it just didn't fit into his strict diet and exercise regime. Problem was – how was Corey supposed to be the only abstinent one in the entire team without losing face? Especially in front of Dexton and his minions.
Needless to say, Dexton chugged the stuff like it was water. His wannabe gang was mainly responsible for smuggling in the alcohol. The track and field club had been allowed to throw a beachside party to celebrate their successful season. It was still warm enough to go for a swim and hang out until late at night. Of course, the high school students had promised to behave and stay sober – they adhered to that rule until the trainer left, then the hidden bottles came out.
With everyone carelessly downing pre-mixed cocktails, beer and hard liquor, Corey couldn't possibly refuse. Even Jesse was sipping on a vivid blue drink, and he was a year younger than him. Trying to act all casual like he was used to it, Corey picked a creamy looking cocktail that smelled sweet enough to stomach. The bitter taste still came through, it burned in his mouth and caused a disgusting warm feeling in his belly. Corey hated it, but he pulled through.
Things were looking up when Corey had the chance to hang out with Jesse. They sat on the edge of the wooden dock, let their naked feet dangle into the water and talked. After Corey had taken care of Jesse when the younger boy had been sick during their trip to a meet, there was a new sense of closeness between them. Corey had held up a bag for Jesse when he had thrown up at least five times on their bus ride back home and he had snapped at anyone who dared to make fun of him. It must have been a nightmarish experience for Jesse, but Corey had tried anything to make it a little more tolerable.
"I'm so jealous of you", Jesse sighed, looking out on the ocean. The low-lying sun cast a warm glow on his big blue eyes. "Wish I could leave this shitshow behind."
"Okay, wanna deal with exit exams for me?", Corey grinned and took a swig of his drink. As bad as it tasted, at least it helped to calm his nerves. Being this close to Jesse, watching his radiant smile and the adorable dimples on his cheeks, never failed to make Corey's heart beat faster.
"No way!" Jesse pulled a face and let out a deep sigh. "School sucks so bad. I wish every day could be like this."
"If you find someone who pays you for staring at the ocean, go ahead." Corey didn't mention that he would probably pay Jesse to watch him while he gazed at the waves dreamily. He had never liked someone the way he liked Jesse, and it kind of turned him into a creep. Good thing no one could read his mind. "But then again, it wouldn't be special if you had it every day."
"Guess you have a point." Jesse turned towards Corey with that one of a kind look of his that could easily melt ice. "It's weird when you think about, right? Why does flattening your butt on some rock hard wood and getting your feet wet feel so nice?"
"That's what he said." The words escaped Corey before he thought twice about it, but they made Jesse laugh, so he didn't regret it. Caught up in the conversation and Jesse's eyes and the occasional touch of their arms, Corey didn't keep track of how much he drank. Jesse got them new cocktails after they had finished their first round. Of course Corey thanked him and kept on going. He already had the reputation of being a killjoy in his own grade, it was not how he wanted to be seen by a cheerful person like Jesse.
After a while, Jesse headed off to take a leak. Corey leaned back and suddenly noticed how dizzy he was. The dock felt unsteady, like it was moving with the waves that softly lapped against the wooden pillars. Was he already drunk? Corey was pretty sure he hadn't consumed that much alcohol, but the burning sensation in his stomach, paired with the vertigo, flooded his body with nausea. It lingered in the back of his throat with a nagging pulse.
Corey wasn't well, and it kept on getting worse by the second. His insides were clearly upset at the attempt to poison them with a toxic chemical. The pungent, yet overly sweet taste of the cocktails returned to Corey's mouth with a throaty burp. He broke into a sweat, and it wasn't just a side effect of the unfamiliar substance he had downed so recklessly. Being ridiculed for shying away from alcohol was one thing. Proving everyone that he was a first-time drinker that also happened to be a lightweight was a whole different beast.
And still, Corey's stomach was churning like an out-of-control washing machine that was about to overflow. He cursed himself for giving in to the peer pressure, but it was too late. Corey pushed himself up and staggered towards the end of the dock like a landlubber on his first boat trip. If he had to lose his drinks, at least he wanted to grant himself the tiniest bit of privacy.
With his whole world spinning around him, water and sky switching places as they pleased, Corey needed all of his usually excellent body control to prevent falling into the sea. Stopping at the very last moment before the wooden planks ended, Corey bent at the waist and puked up an opaque, slightly viscous liquid. It came up just like that without any retches, shooting out of his mouth like water from a garden hose.
Just as Corey's stomach muscles were about to clench again to defy the rules of regular peristalsis, he was suddenly pushed from behind. Being already hunched over and anything but steady on his legs, Corey had no chance to prevent a fall. Face first, he plunged into the milky cloud of vomit he had expelled into the ocean.
Paddling with arms and legs, Corey struggled back to the surface. Under normal circumstances, he was a good swimmer. Right now, his head spun out of control and he felt miserably sick. His body had been interrupted mid-heave, but it wasn't done purging the harmful substance. A harsh contraction in Corey's belly propelled his stomach contents up his esophagus and out of his mouth. Light brown puke poured straight into the water in front of his face. The next gush followed immediately, spreading out and diffusing into a blurry haze at the edges.
Wincing in disgust, Corey kicked and moved his arms to get away from the buoyant barf. He didn't come far before another wave of regurgitated cocktails spilled from his lips. It brought up chunks of the chicken strips and salad he had eaten for lunch. The sight of his upchucked meal, combined with the sour, alcoholic stench, was enough to make Corey gag up even more of the rich and creamy drink, speckled with shreds of green and scraps of white meat. The bigger lumps sank into the warm water.
When the violent bout finally gave him a break, Corey looked up to see Dexton, Birch and Chuck towering over him on the dock. Birch was in swimming trunks, still dripping wet. He had probably been splashing around nearby as Corey spewed his cocktails into the sea. Dexton and Chuck had been hanging out at the campfire, too far away to get to the end of the walkway in time to give Corey a push right after the first eruption.
"Look who's swimming in his own puke", Chuck cackled. His red nose and cheeks gave away that he wasn't quite sober himself.
"That's what the asshole deserves for hurling all over me", Dexton growled. "How long I've waited to take revenge on barf boy."
"The fucking pussy couldn't even handle two drinks." Birch's smug expression gave another clue that he was the prime suspect.
Corey wanted to reply. He wanted to scream that he had only thrown up on Dexton because the idiot had been right in front of him, shoving a phone in Corey's face. Right after Corey had already been sick twice, which should have been a decent enough warning. But as soon as Corey opened his mouth, thick vomit gurgled out of him, creating bubbles on top of the ocean surface. Unsurprisingly, the reaction was hysterical laughter.
Coughing and gagging, Corey fought to stay afloat. Even the soft waves were enough to leave him disoriented and dizzy. He felt weak and nauseous and drained. Climbing out at the dock wasn't an option with his self-declared arch nemesis and his guard dogs waiting for him. They would most likely push him back, and Corey wasn't even sure if he had the strength and coordination to get up there in the first place. The brainless idiots seemed to find this hilarious, but Corey was gripped by panic.
Just when he tried to scream for help without instantly starting to puke again, his classmates from hell were hit by a huge flood of orange liquid, ice cubes and lemon slices.
"Are you fucking insane?" It was Jesse's voice. Corey could barely see him behind Dexton, Birch and Chuck and he didn't sound like himself at all. Each of his words was spat out in anger, trembling and menacing at the same time. Not to mention that he had just drenched his three seniors in an entire bowl of sticky, sugary fruit punch. As they spun around, Jesse dove into the water, fully clothed. He swam towards Corey, hugged him from behind and tilted back his head, making sure it was resting on his shoulder above the water surface.
The smaller boy struggled towing Corey along, but he fought through. The shift in position and the unusual motion were enough to force a spatter of vomit out of Corey. It ran down his cheeks and made him choke. Jesse turned Corey's face to the side to let the liquid flow out of his mouth.
"We need help!" Corey flinched as Jesse screamed right next to his ear. "Someone, please, we need to get him out of the water!"
A dark haired figure approached – it was Andrew, another one of Corey's classmates. Corey's eyesight was so blurry that he only recognized his fellow student when the sturdy boy was right in front of him. Andrew put his arm around Corey from the other side and with joint forces, they swam to the shore. When they were close enough to reach the ground with their feet, Andrew took over and embraced Corey's upper body. He dragged him onto the beach and laid him in the sand, carefully rolling him to the side.
Helplessly surrendered to his wasted body, Corey expelled a thin beige fluid. He felt a gentle hand stroking back the wet strands of his hair and caressing his cheek.
"It's okay, you're safe now", Jesse soothed him. He lifted up Corey's head and placed it on his lap, not caring about the runny vomit that spilled over Corey's lips in a series of small dashes. "There you go, get it out of your system."
"So-sorry", Corey panted, breathless and completely exhausted. The thought of his own puke soiling Jesse's leg was horrifying, even in his worn out state.
"Wait, what are you talking about?" There was subtle change in Jesse's tone. He still tried to remain calm, but he failed to hide a slight shudder. "I'm the one who's sorry. I… I didn't notice you were drunk, I should have never left you alone. Then I searched for you at the beach like a moron until someone told me what these bastards did."
"You saved me." A weary smile lit up Corey's face until he remembered what he had just tried to apologize for. "I'm sorry for… you know… I didn't mean to throw up on you."
"I don't care." Jesse began to stroke Corey's head. It felt good. Comforting. "You didn't drown, fuck the rest. I can easily wash it off. Don't try to hold it in if you need to be sick again."
Overwhelmed by fatigue and a wave of emotions he couldn't grasp, Corey closed his eyes. Someone was yelling, not far away from him, but still sounding distant.
"What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed him!"
"Is this funny to you?" Another voice, equally outraged. "Would you still laugh if he had drowned?"
"You crossed a line here, dumbasses. Stay away from him, you've done enough damage already."
Corey was confused. No one was laughing about him – quite the contrary, there were several of his teammates jumping to his defence. He didn't have to worry about Dexton and his goons anymore, he could finally get some rest. Corey knew he should take off his wet clothes first, but the evening was warm and it felt so nice to rest on Jesse's lap. Before he knew it, Corey had fallen asleep.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Archive of our own: Up all night to get Bucky
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junowritings · 4 years ago
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Hello! I just saw your Kalim x reader and my heart went boom!
Is there any chance that I can request a Neige Leblanche x Fem NRC student Reader?
*Where Neige falls for her quite literally and romanticly when she is setting up for VDC. But turns out his love is somewhat forbidden in a sense.*
please and thank you! Also, question! Have you seen Yuuekn for the twst manga? He's really cute in my opinion! Have a good day!
I’m so happy to hear that you liked that hun I had a lot of hun with it~! Also I feel like writing Neige on Vil’s birthday’s gonna get me cursed but it’s fiiiine~
Also HELL YEAH I’VE SEEN YUUKEN. That man threatened Crowley with a kendo stick what a legend I can’t wait for the next volume! --------
You were only supposed to oversee the others working as VDC was being set up, to go around checking on others progress and non-too-subtly marvel at all of the booths as they were being built and arranged in the appropriate locations. 
Admittedly, you were probably only allowed free reign so you didn’t get in the way of the performers as they got in some practice for the final show. If the sharp look Vil had given you when as he’d practically herded you out was anything to go by, making yourself scarce till things cooled down was your best course of action, so you’d taken to keeping track of the backstage team, if only to see all the work that went into making this long awaited event happen. 
It was just pure chance that one of the second years had caught you wandering between equipment and mistook you as part of the team. Before you knew it, he was handing you an imposingly large set of speakers and asking you to get them moved back to the stage, and perhaps if you’d been more firmer about refusing, then you wouldn’t have been scrambling towards the main area, weighty equipment in tow as you hauled them alongside you. 
Fortunately, the work you’d been dragged into suited you just fine; you’d worked a few backstage gigs during previous school events, thanks to the headmaster’s brilliant idea to leave professional work to a bunch of minimally trained students (seriously, what does Crowley even spend the event budget on?). Thankfully, you were well prepared, and it looked like the other ‘volunteers’ were grateful for the extra set of hands too, as before long you were being approached by some of the first year workers, asking for your advice or help because they weren’t sure what to do.
You’re overseeing one such first year as he sets up the wires for the overhead lights, peering over his shoulder from where he’s crouched and guiding him when needed. When he plugs in the last of the cords he turns to glance up at you, wordlessly seeking your approval.  
You grin and flash him a thumbs up. “Hey, great job. Told ya you could do it.”
At your response the student visibly relaxes, standing up and rolling off the stiffness from being stuck in such an awkward position for so long. He gives the lights a quick once over before shuffling back, releasing a sigh as he muses aloud. “Looks like that was the last of the tech setup; do you think we’ll be needed anywhere else?”
You give a noncommittal shrug. “Probably not; unless we’re needed down by the clubs I think they’re all set.” 
Honestly, the work’s pretty much done by this point, and you’re sure that sooner or later you’ll be getting a call from Rook letting you know it’s time to rejoin the group. You’ve got to admit, you’re looking forward to seeing all of the boys’ hard work pay off - you know they’ve been busting their butts to polish their routine and you’re sure their nerves are kicking in right about now.
Maybe you could bring them something back from the stalls? A good luck charm or something to snack on to ease their nerves a bit - you’re sure Ace and Kalim would appreciate some of those ‘pick-me-up’ treats from those food stands they’d been eyeing near the entrance...
Something catches your attention from the corner of your eye mid-musing, and you find yourself pausing as you cast your gaze towards the stage. There’s several people on stage, and you know at a glance that they’re not part of the crew - the pristine white and blue uniforms were a dead giveaway as is, but as you watch the small group move along the structure you freeze, eyes narrowing.
Are those...kids?
You can’t be certain, given that you’re pretty sure this is a students only event, however you’re transfixed on watching them chatter happily to one another as they point at the different decorations strung up all over the venue. There’s one boy among them that you notice, namely because he’s the tallest of the small, merry group; his smile is bright and gentle as he laughs along with his friends, guiding two of them by the hands so that the group doesn’t get separated. 
The sight is cute, no one can deny, and it's enough to tug a smile at the corner of your lips. The student beside you notices your silence and follows your gaze, gasping when he spots who you’re looking at.
“Wha-Neige is here already?!”
“Neige?” You look between the student and the boy, confused. 
Now where have you heard that name before…
Your eyes widen when you remember. Of course, Neige Leblanche! That guy you’d seen from those interviews! You remember how miffed Vil had gotten when at the sight of the soft spoken boy when they’d worked a shoot together, just about dragging you and Rook out with him before Neige had even finished his segment. Apparently they were rivals or something, but you’d never gotten the chance to ask before Vil had shut that conversation down the moment it started.
Remembering the tempered scowl on Vil’s otherwise pristine face brought a frown to your own. What was it about this guy that he’d hated so much? The more you watched Neige the more he seemed about as nice as you’d expect, regarding his friends with a soft smile that radiated nothing but warmth and kindness as they swarmed around him, all smiles and laughter. 
One of the boys tottered away from the group, wandering over to the edge of the stage to look down at the people still milling about. His fingers were wound into the scarf around his neck, pulling it up close to his face as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking around with curious eyes. Eventually, he spotted you off to the side and you found yourself smiling as you offered a small wave.
The boy’s face brightened and he didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, waving back and letting go of his scarf long enough for you to see him smiling back at you. You chuckled a little at the sight, but the little moment doesn’t last long before his face suddenly scrunches up, discomfort crossing his face.
“A-Achoo!”
He sneezes violently enough that it completely knocks him off balance, and your face pales when you watch him start to topple off of the stage. People have wrecked their ankles just trying to jump from that height, so the moment you see him start to fall you’re running to catch him, arms stretching out before you’ve even reached him.
“Ah! Snick!”
Neige notices his friend beginning to tumble and crosses the stage before you get there, calling out the boy's name as a hand reaches out to grab the back of that peach scarf and uses the garment to pull him upright. You’d have been relieved if the momentum of yanking him back hadn’t sent Neige falling right off in his place, and now you’re running to catch a different boy as you watch him go over the edge.
Fortunately, the split second difference between him and Snick gives you enough time to reach him, and Neige lands in your open arms not a moment after you get there with a gasp at the force. Mentally congratulating yourself for the good catch, you look down at the boy nestled in your arms, who looks back up at you with a surprised expression.
His hair’s skewed, hat having landed somewhere in the fall as soft black strands fall over his face and brush against his lashes. He’s close enough that you’re pretty sure that you can hear his heart hammering in his chest, and his eyes are wide - you guess he’s still shaken from the tumble - but up close you can see just how striking they are, a deep brown easing into a honey color.
‘No wonder this guy’s an actor,’ you find yourself thinking. ‘He looks like he’s straight from a painting.’
You shake the thought away and focus on the moment, lips parting to ask. “Are you okay?”
For a beat, Neige blinks up at you, speechless before breaking from his apparent reverie with a start.
“O-Oh! Y-yes, thank you.�� you watch a pink hue rise to his face, dusting across his cheeks as he brings  a hand to fix his collar, gaze never straying from your own.
Your expression softens at the response. How cute.
“Niege! Neige, are you okay?!”
A voice calls out, and you look up just in time to spot Neige’s gaggle of friends as they race down the stage stairs, moving to converge around you and the boy in your arms. The one who yelled - with silver hair and glasses - seems relieved when he sees Niege is unharmed, and Snick looks on the verge of tears as he shuffles to his friend’s side, bumbling apologies between sniffles.
Neige smiles and reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Snick’s hair. “It’s alright; I’m fine, everyone.”
The spectacled boy turns to you and bows. “Thank you so much for your help!”
You shuffle anxiously at the praise. “Ah, well, it’s no sweat, really - I’m glad I caught him in time! Heh…”
Both you and Neige sneak a look at one another, and as your eyes meet you become acutely aware of the fact that you’re still holding him to your chest. Masking your embarrassment with a cough, you loosen your grip enough for him to ease back onto his feet. He smooths out his sweater and you lean down to grab his hat, shaking it back into shape before moving to place it back onto his head. 
You don’t think twice about tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear until he lets out a soft “Oh!” and you fluster, bringing your hands to your chest as he mirrors the motion.
“Thank you for catching me!” he hums, words sincere as he gives a little bow of his own.
“It’s no problem!” you give an idle wave, rubbing the back of your neck as you add. “Besides, the headmaster would have my head if another school’s student got hurt on our school grounds!”
Neige raises a brow at your words, but laughs along with you when you chuckle.
“So, you guys are entering VDC, right?” you venture a guess, changing the subject, and you watch the group nod in various degrees of agreement.
“Yes! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone perform!” Neige beams at the mention of the event. “Are you a member of the NRC team…?”
He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know your name; when you tell him, he repeats the name back to himself softly, as though making sure to remember it.
“As for me? I’m not on their team, well, technically.” you find yourself hesitating for a moment. “I’m more of a manager, cheering on the team and helping out with set-up. Though, Vil’s been handling most of the work, heh.”
“Vil?” he parrots back to you, looking visibly delighted at the name Happy to ramble about your friend, you’re quick to continue.
“Yeah! He’s been working really hard with everyone to polish their performance - I swear, you’re gonna love it! He’s actually-”
“(Y/N)-!”
You freeze, head whipping in the direction of the voice, spotting Vil striding in your direction as the crowd parts seamlessly to move out of his way. You grin as you watch him approach, but your smile falters a bit when you see his expression. Though his face remains carefully neutral, you’ve known him long enough to recognize that he’s positively seething, and you have no idea what’s got him so angry.
Still surprised to see him, you shift to face him. “Oh, hey Vil! What are you doing-?”
“We need to go.” Vil’s voice is stern, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder guiding you away from Niege and back towards the way he’d come from.
“Wha-why?” you sputter, confused.
“The event’s nearly starting, and we’re up first - you’re going to be late.”
He punctuates each word carefully, though gives you a surprisingly soft smile and brings his free hand to rest against your back when he notices the confusion visible on your face. “The others are waiting for you.” he adds, as though working to ease your concern as he continues to walk with you.
“O-oh, okay.” you fumble for a moment before craning your neck to look back at Neige, giving him the brightest smile you can muster as you wave.
“See you later, Neige! Good luck with the performance~!”
Neige returns the wave, soft smile betrayed by furrowed brows as he watches your retreating form disappear back into the bustle of people. For a few moments he tries to spot you in the crowd before reluctantly giving up, bringing a hand up to his chest and lightly grasping his sweater between his fingers.
“(Y/N)...” he mumbles aloud, hoping to himself that this isn’t the last time he sees you today.
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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago
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☠︎ @crikeygatormate
Bakugou Katsuki.
How could I not pair you with Bakugou Katsuki when you would be absolutely perfect for each other! You compliment each other perfectly and you give Bakugou that warmth and comfort he’s craved for years, it’s different isn’t it? Having someone to come home to that isn’t an animal? But it’s nice welcoming Bakugou into your odd little family! Bakugou won’t lie, he absolutely hates the mess that comes with being a pet owner, and you butt heads about it a lot… but it’s not a big issue, not when he’s so in love with you. He’s prepared to put up with that shit (literally) if it means being with you. So what’s the problem? I mean, there isn’t one? Except maybe how scratchy it is having sex on top of one of the hay bales in your stables with your horses watching (not as sexy as it is in the movies, is it hun?)… so I guess we’re done here? Oh, no. You are definitely gonna break up, but I thought you’d already worked that out yourself? You barely even see each other anymore! With you being a medical student and him being an up and coming Pro, you don’t even have five minutes alone to cuddle because you’re caring for your animals and trying to remember to eat yourself. Those early morning shifts suck, huh? And you both put up with it for as long as possible, but you’re both tired and you’re both snippy so you fight, and you argue…. And the animals know somethings wrong, they can sense the change in your mood. Things aren’t going well, but is it too late to save it? Who knows— but once Bakugou breaks up with you he’ll probably miss you, so it won’t be that bad? You might get back together, you might not.
Shinsou Hitoshi.
Now this is a perfect relationship- he adores your animals and helps you to care for them, and your favourite thing is coming home to see your dog or cat cuddling with him as they nap on the couch. You love trying to rescue animals, give them a home and show them the love and affection they deserve, and Shinsou is no different eh? He just needs someone to show him some love and you’ll get the same love in return. He loves spending those quiet moments with you out in nature, and you have your own special romantic spot where you can fuck beneath the stars at night. You bring out this soft side of him that no one else gets to see, lucky you! And he loves you with all his heart. So surely this one will work out, right? Except it doesn’t, does it? Shinsou’s terrible at communication and he doesn’t share his feelings with you, and the only thing that ruins it. Cause he just can’t be honest with you, and he’d rather lie and pretend things are perfect than just talk through your problems. He doesn’t mean it though, he only does it because he’s scared of losing the only person that’s ever loved him. But you hate that he has to lie, and it makes that mean little voice at the back of your head louder and louder as you wonder if he’d lie about this… what else is he lying about? But you don’t want to lose him either, so technically you haven’t broken up! That’s good, at least?
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jisungsmochi · 3 years ago
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favorite crime - na jaemin
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favorite crime - na jaemin 
this is the second installment for my SOUR series! you can read jeno’s one here! 
a little bad boy!jaemin x troubled (?) but still a ‘goodie goodie’ reader // strangers to friends to partner in crime to strangers again :/ 
word count: 7.2k 
summary: “It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do
'Cause I was goin' down, but I was doin' it with you” 
who would have ever thought that, jaemin, the quiet boy you met in detention, would become your first love? getting involved with his shenanigans was probably the worst thing you could have done in your life. you were lucky enough to love someone like him, someone who excited you, scared you, and most of all, loved you back. but what happens when his actions suddenly have consequences? 
a/n: this summary sucks but i liked writing this alot,, explains why it took me so long to write it oops. 
tagging the bestie: @skrtbabe
//
Know that I loved you so bad
I let you treat me like that
I was your willing accomplice, honey
//
as you walked into the near-empty classroom, you made a beeline for the closest seat to the window. if you were going to be stuck in detention for two hours, you might as well have a nice view. you let out a short sigh to yourself, one hour and fifty eight minutes to go. the supervising teacher was lazily marking her class’ essays, completely choosing to ignore the entrance of na jaemin. he gave her a subtle scoff before stumbling past the desk, making his way to sit behind you. you heard him roughly place his bag onto the surface of his desk. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look back and see what he was up to. jaemin was always a mystery to you, and to everyone else in the school. despite keeping himself away from the majority, people had quite a lot to say about the boy. you heard rumours that he got stabbed (which you didn’t believe at all) but your classmate, haechan, insists he had video evidence. if anything, you don’t think you had ever spoken to jaemin in your entire life, but that was all about to change.
thirty minutes into detention and you were beyond bored. everybody was either catching up on school work or trying their best to not be caught on their phones. you opted to staring out the window, eyes following the movements of a particular butterfly. eventually, the butterfly decided it was time to leave your line of sight, causing you to let out a short huff. you heard a soft chuckle, belonging to the previously silent boy behind you. you slowly turned to face him, his eyes immediately latching to meet yours. he had his chin perched on top of his right palm, a cunning grin on his face. you gave him a glare,
“what are you laughing at?” you faintly whisper to him. this caught him off guard, he didn’t expect you to sound so stern.
“an explosion is about to happen” you grew to be more confused, what is he talking about?
“wha-“
“i’ll be right back! s-stay where you are!” your teacher suddenly blurts out, rushing out of her room as fast as she could. the rest of the students all looked over at eachother, some even opting to leave detention entirely.
you turned back to the snickering boy, who clearly had something to do with it.
“what the hell did you do?”
“put laxatives in her coffee” your jaw dropped, how the hell did he manage to do that?
“w-what’s wrong with you?”
“what’s wrong with you? learn to live a little” he suddenly stood up, slinging his bag across his body. his eyes still stayed on you, silently asking for you to follow him. this was one hell of a first impression. you weren’t sure what took over you in that moment, but you found yourself trailing behind na jaemin like a lost puppy as he led you both out of the school gates. he didn’t speak much to you, aimlessly walking to wherever the hell he needed to be.
“so what did you get into detention for?” he suddenly asked you, causing you to stiffen. you weren’t a stranger to getting into trouble, your short temper often being the root of your issues. but you weren’t exactly the most comfortable talking to new people.
“ah you’re a bit shy? i’ll start then, i stole lee haechan’s clothes after gym practice” he smirked to himself, feeling some sense of pride.
“that was you? he was running around school butt naked because of you” you couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of seeing two full ass cheeks after your history class.
“that’s what he gets for claiming that he has proof i got stabbed? which is ridiculous by the way” jaemin shakes his head before coming to a complete stop. you slightly bump into his right shoulder, quickly stabilising yourself before looking at the quiet cafe infront of you.
“hungry?” you nodded in response, following him into the cafe. he seemed to have known some of the workers, earning you a free croissant and hot chocolate.
“so, i told you why i got into detention, now it’s your turn” he chimed, clearly entertained by having you as company.
“i punched kim yuna in the face” you slightly cringed at your own words. you weren’t the one to be physical in your confrontations, but this girl really struck a nerve.
��sheesh, i saw her earlier, you gave her nose a good bruising, i must say” he couldn’t help but find the entire thing entertaining. this was so odd to you, every person that had witnessed it, thought you went crazy. but here jaemin was, laughing at the situation.
“you think this is funny?” you asked curiously, rather than in a judgemental manner.
“well yeah, i don’t know why you did it, but she probably deserved it” he shrugged, taking a bite of his own pastry. you felt your shoulders begin to relax, infact your entire demeanour had changed. jaemin was the only person that didn’t push you to admit your faults and apologise. he didn’t need to know the whole story, he just took your words for what they were.
the next hour consisted of you and jaemin, sharing stories on some of the mischievous things you had gotten up to in the past. from small things like setting off stink bombs during an exam, to running from the mall cops after stealing a pair of pants from a store. jaemin liked your reactions to his stories, at first your face would be full of shock, then turn into some sort of enlightenment. he found it quite endearing to watch. he wasn’t too bad on the eyes either.
“need me to walk you home?”
“i don’t need you to do anything for me” jaemin just smirked at your response,
“but i wouldn’t mind if you did”
“ah i see how it’s going to be”
“what do you mean?”
“our relationship, it’s going to be very push and pull” what on earth was he on about?
“you got that from just spending a few hours with me?” jaemin nodded, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.
“i think we’ll be spending a lot of time together” was all he said back. if you had told yourself earlier that day, that you’d become na jaemin’s partner in crime, you’d punch yourself in the face. but this was only the beginning.
//
from that day onwards, you would purposely seek out jaemin’s presence. whether it be you walking to the most isolated parts of school, or simply trying to get into detention in the case he was there again. as a result of the laxative prank, jaemin had earned a two week long suspension. you had caught wind of this information from the school’s chatterbox, haechan. you’d think after being humiliated by jaemin, he’d keep his name out of his mouth.
you decided to visit the same cafe you accompanied jaemin to, incase he was hanging out there. you weren’t sure why you wanted to be around him so much. if anything, you were more at risk of getting another detention, or becoming a social outcast. but you were going to take those chances.
as you entered the cafe, your eyes scanned near and far for any sight of the black haired boy. you were about to give up, when you heard a voice,
“stalking me now?” you immediately froze, too nervous to turn back. you felt jaemin’s hand on your shoulder, slowly turning your around to face him.
“i-i no it’s not what it looks like-“
“it’s fine, you must have missed me, no?” he let a cocky grin land on his face. you just rolled your eyes, ready to walk right back out that door.
“let’s get up to some trouble today” he gripped your wrist gently, dragging you out of the cafe. he didn’t let go of you, once again, you were aimlessly following him. why did you let him do this to you?
jaemin wasn’t too much of a talker, he tended to try and speak with his eyes. you found it interesting, the way he expected you to know exactly what was on his mind. he eventually stopped walking after reaching an abandoned building. you were beginning to feel slightly anxious, noticing that the sun was slowly setting and the breeze was getting cooler. jaemin plopped his carry bag on the concrete floor, you heard clinking sounds erupt from the bag. he moved to pull out a few spray cans.
“ever graffitied?” you shook your head,
“not spray painting, but i’ve drawn some not so pleasant pictures in the bathroom stalls” you shrug as he handed you a can of bright yellow spray paint. he slightly chuckled at your anecdote, which made you look down at the ground.
“well you won’t get in trouble for messing up this place”
“what is this place anyway?” you start to shake the can, watching as jaemin started spraying onto the blank wall.
“somewhere i come when i don’t feel like going home” you weren’t sure if you wanted to press him to elaborate, so you just nodded, beginning to spray a random design of your own.
jaemin found hanging around you quite amusing. you were always up for anything he wanted to do. you seemed so cheerful about the simplest things, and never pushed him to explain the questionable things about himself. you were a lot different than the people he would usually surround himself with. but like many things in na jaemin’s life, they often went sour very quickly.
//
And I watched as you fled the scene
Doe-eyed as you buried me
One heart broke, four hands bloody
//
jaemin had asked you to accompany him to the abandoned building one night. you were half asleep and freezing to death as you approached his car. it was quite beat up, making you worried,
“is this thing even safe to be driving?” you groan as you wrap yourself in your large puffer jacket. jaemin had previously insisted you bring a sleeping bag and pillow. you chose not to question it, too tired to argue back with him.
“don’t disrespect my sweet ride! be grateful i didn’t make you walk in the cold” he scoffed before starting the engine. the car ride was fairly quiet, you were drifting in and out of sleep, in which jaemin noticed. he thought you looked so peaceful, so he tried his best not to make any sharp turns or run over many speed bumps. in a matter of time, he parked the car, gently wiggling your shoulder. you woke up instantly, feeling his cold hand on your cheek. you furrowed your eyebrows before following him out of the car. he led you to the same wall you both had graffitied on before, but this time, it seemed to have become a complete picture.
“i wanted to show you this! isn’t it cool?” he gleamed, pulling you to his side, slightly rubbing your shoulder to warm you up. you quickly ignored his touch, focusing back on the wall. it was a mirage of different doodles and words that must have meant something to jaemin.
“this is amazing, you did this all by yourself?”
“yeah, i really wanted to see your reaction”
“what does it all mean?”
“it’s kind of a representation of what goes on in my mind? i’m not the best with expressing my feelings with words, so i decided to let it out on this wall” jaemin spoke with such ease, his voice filling your ears with warmth. he pulled you closer to him when he saw you shiver,
“care to share?” you slightly joked. jaemin never got too deep with you, so you assumed he would brush the comment off. but he just stares back at you, his eyes piercing into your own. you held your breath as he leaned in closer to you.
“sure thing” he slowly leads you back to the car, turning on the heater as you both wrapped yourselves in sleeping bags. you were huddled up in the back seat, your head leaning on his shoulder as he played with his fingers.
“i never had an outlet for my imagination. my parents weren’t the most warm or loving people in the world. i barely remember anything from my childhood, except for the unpleasant memories. when i started hanging out with some of the older kids, they showed me the ropes of their crew. they taught me how to graffiti, how to carve things with a pocket knife, you know, basic seventh grade stuff” he let out a soft chuckle, but you didn’t laugh. instead you placed your hand over his, feeling the coldness shoot through your body.
“i-i don’t like showing how i feel. because i think it makes me weak, or pitiful. that’s a bad way of thinking, but i can’t help it. so i let out my frustrations here, by either spray painting or smashing random things. it’s nice to get it all out” he stops speaking, his posture suddenly stiffening. you lifted your head from his shoulder, forcing him to look over at you.
“i’m here to listen to you. you don’t have to result to destroying things in order to reveal your feelings. you can just talk to me next time, okay?” you assured him, tightening your grip on his hand. jaemin just nodded, his eyes faltering from yours. why were you so considerate towards him?
“wanna know why i punched yuna in the face?” you saw jaemin crack a smile, nodding frantically.
“she said some things about my family, how they only took me in because they felt sorry for me. see, i’m actually a foster kid, my real parents weren’t in the ‘right state of mind’ to take care of me. well, in the eyes of the law atleast” jaemin didn’t know how to respond, opting to pulling your head back into his shoulder.
“i know she was just trying to rile me up, my foster parents aren’t terrible. but hearing those words just struck a nerve. how can people be so judgmental?”
“that’s just life, love. everyone will always have their own opinions, but it’s up to you, on how to respond. or you can simply choose to ignore them, it’s always worked for me” jaemin started tracing small patterns on the back of your hand, feeling his eyes become drowsy.
“but i don’t want to always ignore my problems. i want to be able to face them, how else will i grow as a person?” you sighed,
“we grow each and every day, most of the time we don’t notice. you’re doing better than you think. sure, you’ll grow up soon enough, you’ll develop your own identity, but for now, enjoy the moment. don’t care too much about what others think, this is your life to lead” jaemin looked down at you, feeling a warm sensation reach his heart.
“for someone who doesn’t like speaking his mind, you sure give some great advice. promise we’ll be there for eachother?” you pull out your pinky finger from his grip, watching as he blinks for a few seconds. you sensed some hesitation, but blamed it on him being tired. eventually, jaemin linked his pink with yours, sealing it with a gentle press of his lips. you couldn’t hide how flustered you had gotten, burying your head in his chest as he started stroking your hair.
“thankyou for being with me tonight” he mumbled as he felt himself fall asleep,
“anytime”
//
sometimes jaemin would leave you hanging for days on end. at first you would get concerned, mainly for his own safety. you were never sure what he got up to in his spare time, and to be honest, you didn’t want to know. but after a certain amount of days, he would pop back into your life that nothing happened, as if no time had passed. today was one of those days. he was sitting on your bedroom floor, flicking through your history notes. you couldn’t pry your eyes away from him, he looked so peaceful.
“you’re so much smarter than me” he huffs, scratching his head as he closed your notebook.
“no way, i’m pretty average. you’re more street smart than i am” jaemin perks up at your words,
“i guess i am huh” he smirks to himself, making you slightly smile.
“i can help you study if you want, you need a pass, right?” you scooted over to him, sitting so that your shoulders brushed against eachother.
“well yes, technically. but passing doesn’t secure i’ll get into college. not that i can even go” he shrugs, eyes focused on his rings, beginning to fiddle with them.
“what do you mean?”
“i don’t have the grades, my parents barely have any money saved for my college fund. i don’t have a job, you see the issue here?” you sensed him stiffen up next to you, this topic clearly striking a nerve within him. you placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it,
“you know college isn’t for everyone. i’m sure you will be able to live a good life” jaemin knew you were trying your best to cheer him up. but these were constant thoughts and struggles he had been dealing with for what seemed like a lifetime. he knew you would never fully understand, and he couldn’t be mad at you for that.
“y-yeah, i’ll be fine” he sighs, linking is fingers with yours. you worried about jaemin so much, it slowly began to take over your mind. you caught yourself thinking about him more often, how you wanted to be there for him during his dark times. but jaemin always shoved off the idea of getting too deep with his emotions. sure, he trusted you with most things, but there was always a thought in the back of his mind. you were way too good for him.
//
“what is this?” you smiled brightly at the boy standing across from you. he was leant up against your locker, gift bag in his hands, shoving it towards you.
“a token of my appreciation for our growing friendship” you chose to ignore the last word, your feelings towards jaemin still being undecided.
you slowly open the bag, your eyes landing on a small box. you furrowed your eyebrows, before opening it.
“t-this is beautiful, jaemin. how did you afford this?” you gasped, pulling out the shiny necklace from the delicate box. it was a silver chain, that sparkled under the light at just the right angle. there was a small pendent latched onto it, a butterfly.
“don’t worry about that, do you like it?” he grinned at you, taking in your ecstatic reaction,
“of course! i cant thank you enough!”
you pull him into a warm hug, arms tightening around his torso. jaemin chuckled softly, bringing his arms to wrap around your frame, slowly swaying you side to side.
“being there for me is enough, i promise”
//
The things I did
Just so I could call you mine
The things you did
Well, I hope I was your favorite crime
//
the following few days, jaemin went MIA again. you were beginning to become annoyed by his lack of communication. you wanted to believe he was gone for good reason, but something in your gut sensed something worse was happening. that’s when you decided to go to the abandoned building, remembering he often went there when he wanted to be alone. not having a car of your own caused many issues in your life. like right now, you were huffing and puffing once you hopped off your bicycle. you quickly set it aside, making your way to the building. before you turned to the main corridor that you met jaemin in many times before, you heard hushed voices, one belonging to the boy in question.
“we need this deal done asap. no excuses” a deep voice echoes through the building. you couldn’t get a good look at them without being caught, so you remained hidden behind a huge slab of concrete.
“b-but what if they think i’m scamming them because i’m new?” jaemin squeaked. you had never heard him so worried before.
“well you better think of some way to get them to buy, we can’t risk anymore losses. take this as initiation into the big boys club” what the hell was going on?
soon enough, the small group of men had left the building, walking past the concrete slab you were hiding behind. you let out a sigh of relief before rushing to jaemin. his eyes widened at the sight of you, part of him wanting to yell at you for being so stupid.
“what are you doing here?!” he was mad.
“i could ask you the same thing” you scoffed. jaemin suddenly became quiet, eyes avoiding yours.
“what’s going on? and i want the truth. the whole truth” he just sighed, dragging you back to his car. you folded your arms, in disbelief from what you had heard prior.
“i-i’m helping them with some deals okay? it’s just a side hustle to get some cash, i want to get out of this town. this is the only way”
“what are you dealing? drugs?” you gasped, watching as jaemin snapped his neck to face you.
“yes, it’s not as bad as you think-“
“not as bad? they’re literally part of a gang. do you know what happens to people who don’t seal these deals?” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“i know the risks. but i’m desperate. i just need enough to buy an apartment in another city and finally start my life” jaemin doesn’t know why he’s bothering trying to explain this to you. he brushed his fingers through his hair roughly, letting out a groan as he did so.
“when i said there are ways for you to live a good life, i didn’t mean deal drugs. i meant get an apprenticeship or something! literally anything but this”
“there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. i already swore i’d do this deal. i need the money. you wouldn’t understand” jaemin struck back, feeling attacked by your words.
“what the hell is that supposed to mean? i-i can’t do this. come back to me when you’ve come to your senses. this is stupid and you know it” you rush out of his car, causing jaemin to trail behind you as you stumbled to find your bike.
“come with me” you stopped in your tracks.
“pardon?”
“come with me to the deal. i-i don’t want to go alone” he says barely above a whisper,
“you’re crazy if you think i’ll follow you like a lost pup-“ jaemin pressed his lips on yours, hands stuck to your waist, gently rubbing your sides as he deepened the kiss. your words became jumbled as he continued to kiss you. as much as you wanted to argue back with him, feeling his lips on yours was only something you had experienced in your dreams.
“please” he whispered, pulling away from you momentarily.
“o-okay” you whispered back, hands now on his shoulders. jaemin smirked with pride before pulling you in once again. he led you back to his car, dragging you into the backseat. he began trailing kisses down your neck, erupting a pleased sigh from you. and just like that, you were wrapped around his silly little finger.
//
you were now seated in the passenger seat of jaemin’s busted ass car. your nerves were off the charts, and so were his. you had never seen him so anxious before, he was breathing in quick successions and couldn’t stop shaking.
“just get it over and done with...okay? get in and get out” you try your best to ease his nerves but how much could you really say? you were encouraging him to commit to a drug deal, this was not how you expected your friday night to go.
jaemin just nodded, clutching onto something in his jacket pocket. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gently stroking your hair as he did so.
“thankyou for coming with me” he mumbled. you just nodded, trying to ignore your intense gut feeling that something was going to go wrong. he led you by your waist into the noisy bar. you kept your head down, allowing jaemin to gain sight of the clients. he didn’t let you approach the group of men, so you tried to distract yourself with a random fruity cocktail from the bar. it wasn’t enough to push aside your worries.
after what seemed like hours, you caught sight of jaemin, who seemed like he was in a rush. he quickly scooped you away from your seat, swiftly leading you out of the bar. before you could even open your mouth, he interjects,
“no time for questions, get in the car now” he harshly shoved you into the passenger seat. now you were more worried than before.
“what the fuck is going on?!” jaemin didn’t answer you, starting the engine of the car. before you could press him any further, the same group of men rushed out of the bar, eyes scanning for the boy next to you. this wasn’t good.
“may or may not have given them the wrong amount...nothing a little hide and seek can’t fix!” jaemin tried to laugh it off, but you knew he was equally as scared. his dingy car wouldn’t start, adding to the panic in the atmosphere. the group of men were already in their own vehicle, approaching jaemin’s car rather quickly.
“fuck fuck fuck” he began shouting, slamming his foot on the accelerator as the car hurled forward. in a matter of time, he was speeding down the street. he probably ran a couple red lights and a few stop signs, but he wasn’t fazed. you on the other hand, were about to throw up. jaemin kept taking sharp turns to throw off the car chasing you, he barely looked back. you were terrified in this moment. anything could go wrong, one wrong turn, and it could all be over. soon enough, he stopped right outside the all too familiar abandoned building. he was out of breath, the adrenaline still present in his system. you were completely frozen, still in shock at what had occurred.
“wasn’t that riveting?” he smirked. he fucking smirked?
“are you kidding me? that was fucking insane. d-don’t do this again. i don’t want any part of this anymore” you began tearing up, feeling your heart pump out of your chest. jaemin’s face dropped as he tried to hold your hand, in which you pulled away immediately.
“t-take me home. please.” he didn’t say anything back to you. he respected your wishes and took you home safely. you didn’t even want to think about the punishment he would receive from the gang for messing up the deal. the only thought of your mind was your own safety. jaemin risked your safety this time around. you would have done anything for him, but in this moment, you were beginning to regret it. na jaemin was trouble. and you needed to stay away from trouble.
//
staying away from na jaemin was harder than you thought. subtle glances from across the classroom or school courtyard wasn’t doing you any good. so you sought refuge in the library. somehow he managed to find you there too.
“y/n, please, talk to me” you continued to read the novel you weren’t interested in, trying your best to remain angry. he sat across from you, pulling down the book from your face, eyes begging to meet yours.
“there’s nothing left to say” he just sighs, never seeing you be so stubborn.
“i know what i did was wrong, i shouldn’t have put you in that posit-“
“can we please not discuss this here? where anyone can hear us?” you quickly interrupt him, pulling him to the school parking lot. out of habit, jaemin led you to his car, opening the passenger side door for you. you got chills as you sat in the seat once again, the memories flooding back.
“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have brought you into it. i just didn’t want to be alone...you’re the only person who doesn’t make me feel alone.” jaemin could barely look at you, too embarrassed of being vulnerable.
“you know how i’m against what you’re doing. and i know i can’t change your mind. i just can’t keep worrying about your safety. it hurts me knowing that you could get hurt one day” you began sniffling, which made jaemin’s heart ache. he pulled your face to meet his own, staring at your soft features. he slowly guided his fingers to wipe away your tears.
“don’t worry too much about me, love. i’ll be just fine” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and just like that, you were dragged right back into his arms.
“be careful” you whispered against his lips,
“always”
//
You used me as an alibi
I crossed my heart as you crossed the line
And I defended you to all my friends
//
jaemin wasn’t careful. not in the slightest. he showed up at your window, hands clutching to his lower torso area as he stumbled into your room. you hushed him to be as quiet as he could but you immediately knew something was wrong. he practically fell to his knees, soft whimpers and sighs leaving his mouth. you quickly moved to turn on your lights, taking a better look at the boy in pain. your eyes travelled along his face, covered in scratches and bruises.
“you good with playing medic tonight?” he joked, trying to relieve the tension. but you were not having any of it. you pulled him into your bed, allowing him to lay on his back. he had an array of cuts over his body, including a large gash on his lower lip. you swiftly rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your not so impressive first aid kit, but it would have to do for now. you tried your best to disinfect what you cold, until you reached his torso. you saw there were specks of blood leaking onto his t shirt, which made you more worried than you were initially. jaemin just sighed, lifting up his shirt slowly. your eyes were glued on the painful wound plastered on the right side of his body.
“d-did someone stab you?!” you felt tears prickle the side of your eyes. how could he be so stupid?
“n-no, its just a cut, it’s not even that deep” he tried to play it off, but the moment you pressed the cleansing wipe onto the wound, he winced.
“stop playing the tough guy. i hate when you play tough guy” you groan, trying your best to tend to his wound. jaemin watched as your expression changed from one of concern, to annoyance.
“hey, don’t be mad at me, okay?” he brought his hand to hover over your thigh, gently stroking his fingers on the surface.
“i’m sorry” he whispered, trying his best to sit up, but you immediately pushed him back down. you moved to lay next to him, allowing yourself to finally look him in the eyes.
“i can’t always be here to take care of you like this, jaemin. as much as i want to, there are going to be times where i just can’t. you have to understand that”
“of course, i didn’t expect you to be my personal nurse or anything. i just don’t want you to leave” his words sank deeply into your thoughts.
“i-i won’t leave”
“thankyou. i promise i will take you out and we will have fun. like old times. we can go on a road trip, or even that stupid homecoming dance you keep talking about. i’ll do anything to make it up to you because i ca-“ he immediately stopped himself, clutching his side.
“just get some rest, we can continue this discussion another day. goodnight jaem” you just sighed, turning on your back to face him. jaemin didn’t know why he couldn’t finish his sentence. he does care about you. more than anyone else in the world. but why couldn’t he just say it?
you on the other hand, were too busy imagining your future with jaemin. would he be there as your partner in crime for life? or was he just someone passing by to teach you a lesson? you weren’t too sure you wanted to find out.
//
“y/n, principal lee wants to see you in his office” your economics teacher informed you during class, eyes of classmates following you as you left the room. you swore you hadn’t done anything remotely mischievous lately, besides snatching a cheat sheet for the upcoming final.
“ah yes y/n, please take a seat” principal lee invited you into his office. you tried your best to stay focused on the stubby man in front of you but you couldn’t ignore the two police officers standing to the side.
“you wanted to see me, sir?”
“yes, these officers are here to ask you some questions. don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. they just need some information for their investigation” he explains as best he could, shifting the conversation over to the two officers.
“as principal lee mentioned, we just need information. are you comfortable with us asking you a few questions?” you slowly nodded, hands beginning to clam up.
“we have reason to believe your friend, na jaemin, has been involved in an incident that occurred last thursday. he claims he was present with you that night. can you confirm this?” you immediately froze. you swore you didn’t even blink. that was the night he came to your window, all banged up a bruised. but you couldn’t tell them that part. so you went with a variation of the truth,
“yes, he was with me, we often study together and watch movies on thursdays.” you tried your best to maintain eye contact, not wanting to draw any more attention.
“have you noticed anything odd in his behaviour lately?” you knew they were just following protocol, but you weren’t prepared for any of this.
“not really. he is quite reserved naturally, but there hasn’t been anything too alarming, in my opinion” the officers just nodded, scribbling down your words.
“thankyou for your time, if we were to need any more statements from you, would you be okay with that?” you simply nodded, wanting nothing more than to get back to class.
“great, we’ll be heading off now, thankyou principal lee, and y/n” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. what in god’s name happened that night?
“why were the cops coming out of the office? did you do something?” your friend, jimin asked you as she rushed to your side.
“n-no, they were asking about jaemin” you sighed. you didn’t want to tell her much, knowing she wasn’t his biggest fan.
“y/n, you have to stop hanging out with him so much. he’s bad news. i mean, he’s got the cops questioning you? is that someone you really want to be with?” you knew she had your best interest at heart, but she didn’t know jaemin like you did. no one did.
“don’t talk about him like he’s some pest in my life. he makes me happy, okay? i’d do pretty much anything for him” you huff, beginning to walk away.
“but would he do anything for you?” her words made you stop in your tracks. she was right to question that. god, even you questioned it sometimes. would he?
//
And now every time a siren sounds
I wondеr if you're around
'Cause you know that I'd do it all again
//
jaemin insisted he take you to the homecoming dance — he even pinky promised you.
“jaemin! i’m so excited for tonight, what time are you coming by?” you excitedly squeal into the phone, making jaemin slightly chuckle.
“uh love, i-i don’t think i can make it tonight” you felt your heart drop.
“what? why?”
“i have some business to take care of. i promise you i’ll take you out soo-“
“i think you should stop making promises you can’t keep. hope you have fun doing whatever you’re doing” you immediately hung up, wiping the stray tears from your face. you quickly pulled yourself together. showing up alone to the homecoming dance after you told your friends you were going with jaemin, was probably one of the most embarrassing things you had ever experienced. they all felt pity for you, dragging you to dance, trying to get you to forget about jaemin. but nothing was working. you were beyond disappointed, partially in yourself, for believing he could actually keep his promise.
the moment you got home, you saw someone sitting on the steps just outside your front door. you let out a loud sigh, hoping he heard everything. you wanted to push right past him and go to bed, but jaemin trapped you in his arms. you felt something was off about him. he was stiff as a board, he didn’t say anything to you. you finally got a glimpse of his face, his right eye was swollen and there was a slight gash on his cheek. you immediately gasped, all your anger towards him had fizzled away.
“w-what happened?” you barely whispered, bringing your hand to the side of his face. jaemin winced as he felt the touch, quickly pulling away.
“finally got what was coming” he tried to laugh it off, but he knew you weren’t going to laugh back. instead, you allowed him to follow you to your room, hoping your parents were fast sleep.
jaemin slowly made his way to sit on your bed. you felt like he had something else he was hiding from you, but your main focus was yet again, tending to his wounds.
“i’m getting some real déjà vu right now” you sighed, cleaning his face. jaemin tried his best to not move, but everything stung. he really got it bad this time.
“i’m sorry for breaking my promise. i know how much the dance meant to you” he softly muttered, eyes avoiding yours.
“i-it’s okay”
“no it’s not! you do so much for me, and i couldn’t even do this one thing for you. i feel so shitty. why do you even keep me around? i’m deadweight and that’s trouble for someone with wings” he scoffs, replaying harsh words he had heard from others in the past. you slowly plucked away the medical kit, turning to face him properly. (a/n: not me using a quote from the show ‘panic’)
“you’re not deadweight...you’re a good person, jaem. you’re good to me, that’s what matters” you gently push away the stray strands of hair that covered his forehead. he smiled at your touch, leaning into your palm as you brought it to cup his cheek.
“i love you”
you almost choked on your own saliva...he loves you?
“w-what?”
“yikes, not the response i was hoping for” he yet again, tried to relieve the tension with a joke. but you weren’t having any of it.
“can you be serious for one minute in your life? you can’t just say something like that and not expect me to freak out! i mean, do i love you too? of course i do! i would be stupid not to, but jaemin, you cant just spit that out of nowhere!” you began pacing around your room, which made jaemin smile even wider.
“well i just did. and i mean it” he stood to meet you, standing in the middle of your room as he held your shoulders in place.
“s-so what happens now?” jaemin hesitated for a moment, did he just ruin everything?
“we can’t be together”
“pardon?”
“i-i can’t do that to you. i can’t let you be with someone like me. i’m constant danger. the cops are going to get me one day, and i don’t want you to see it happen” he started rambling, you were barely understanding anything.
“this makes no sense. you’re telling me that you love me but you can’t be with me? why would you do this to me?” you started sobbing,
“i-i don’t expect you to understand. i just needed to tell you before...” he paused, pulling you closer to him. but you pushed yourself away. you didn’t want to hear anymore but forced yourself to listen. you needed answers.
“before what?” you gritted through your teeth,
“before i leave” your eyes widened, tears stopped flowing for a moment. you couldn’t make out any words, allowing jaemin to explain,
“i cant stay here, not in this town. i need to go somewhere else. somewhere they won’t find me. somewhere i can start over” he sighed, sitting back down on your bed.
“take me with you! we can go tonight, i don’t care where i am, as long as you’re with me i’ll be okay!” you begged, pulling out your duffel bag from under your bed. but jaemin quickly gripped your wrists, pulling you to sit with him on the bed.
“y-you can’t come with me. it’s not fair on you, or me. i want you to have a better life, a life with no regrets. you have so many goals, i can’t hold you back from them. i won’t” he insisted, holding your hands in his as he pleaded you with his eyes. you weren’t thinking straight, everything became so overwhelming.
“why are you doing this to me? i cant do this without you! i cant get through all of this without you. please don’t leave” your hands began to shake. jaemin brought them to his lips, placing soft pecks on each knuckle in an attempt to calm you down.
“you can. i know you can. because you’re you. an incredibly loyal, intelligent and courageous person. you don’t need me. if anything, i need you more” he smirked at the last part. you kept shaking your head, not believing anything he was saying.
“just promise me one thing?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that your foreheads touched.
“don’t forget me. don’t forget all the things we got up to. i had so much fun with you, more fun than i’ve had in my entire life. i can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. i love you, okay? i’ll always love you” finally, he kissed you. his hands dragged to your waist, rubbing over the soft skin. you shined into the kiss, partially still upset with his departure.
“can we just have one last night together?” you pulled away, wiping away the rest of your tears. jaemin softly nodded, pulling you down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you.
“thankyou for being my partner in crime. i’ll miss you” he sighed, gently scribbling random doodles on your arm with his fingers.
“i miss you already. maybe one day, we’ll meet again? i don’t know, am i being silly?” you didn’t want him to answer, afraid he’d break another promise.
“you’re not silly at all. we’ll see what life has planned for us” he responded. that was enough for you. you’ll leave it up to fate. you were just happy you were spending one last night with the boy you loved so dearly.
//
It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do
'Cause I was goin' down, but I was doin' it with you
Yeah, everything we broke and all the trouble that we made
But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face
Oh, look what we became
//
you awoke the very next morning in an empty bed. your heart sunk, knowing jaemin was gone had finally hit you. your eyes drifted to where he once was, landing on a piece of paper.
‘go to the building for one last goodbye. i hope you like it.
- jaem <3 ‘
you quickly got changed and rushed there as fast as you could. would he be there to bid you farewell? you weren’t betting on it, but was still curious as to what he had to show you. you made your way into the building, your eyes cascading over all the graffiti. finally, you saw exactly what he left for you. he painted over the mural you both worked on. it had been replaced with a painting of a butterfly. its wings were all different colours, you could tell he spent ages on it. you finally reached the bottom of the artwork, a small inscription was engraved,
‘for the one with the wings, keep on soaring’
“so cheesy, i hate it” you joke to yourself, smiling at his words. this was his final gift for you. as you admired the painting once again, memories of all your little adventures came rushing back. everything you did together seemed like an eternity ago. although you wished you had confessed to him sooner, or kissed him harder, you knew that he was gone for good. jaemin wasn’t the time to keep many promises, so you’ve learnt. you started to put your faith in the universe. if you were meant to be, then you would meet again. but for now, you were content with everything you had gone through together. you were grateful to have known someone as amazing as jaemin, and you would never take that for granted. you only hoped he would do the same, no matter where you both were in life. you hoped you could both grow wings and soar through life without any regrets.
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everythingharrypotterblog · 4 years ago
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charmed [5]: ‘cycle’ (remus lupin x reader)
SMUT. professor! remus x professor!y/n. can be read as a one-shot, or as part 5 of the charmed series :) pls go show part 4 some love, and the rest of the chapters if u liked this! <3
brief summary: full moon approaching= horny as fuck remus. he can’t keep his eyes/hands off y/n, and after a whole day of being needy between classes, they ... ;) dom!remus, oral fem!receiving, fingering, size kink, ye
nsfw gifs for inspo:   x      x
a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7
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series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.
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5. 
Remus’ life was lived in cycles, various phases of the moon commandeering partially how he felt. 
His sex drive was always pretty high; how could he not feel desire- when he had Y/N around him in his life. They had a great sex life, and Remus was definitely one to get ‘love boners’, where he would see Y/N do something not remotely suggestive but would get the desire to fuck out of sheer adoration..
When the full moon came close, however… it was on a whole other level. His body carried tension and almost an incurable itch on the days preceding his transformation. His senses flared like a wolf’s, like hearing, touch and vision. It was his sense of smell, however, that enhanced the most. For about 2-5 days leading to the full moon, his smell became much sharper. If Y/N had recently showered, her fresh scent would overwhelm his nostrils, or if she got sweaty too. The second she got aroused, Remus would be able to pick it up, and the urge to bury his face in between her legs would wash over him.
So, he 300% got way hornier during this period of time. Paired up with his senses on overdrive, all he could think about during those few days was sex with Y/N, the tiniest things she did would get him instantly hard. He’d be turned on all the time.
As the month of September came to a close, both Y/N could definitely sense her husband’s even-higher-than-normal yearning. Remus’ persona in public never revealed how much of a beast he could be in the bedroom, always calm, respectful, prudent. He treated Y/N with the upmost care, and once they got to Hogwarts, with the upmost professionalism. That quickly faltered in the last couple of days.
The second students were out of her last class, he had her pushed up against the wall, the door of the classroom safely locked. Y/N even had to cancel one Charms practice session, because Remus wasn’t able to keep his hands off her: pulling her close to him and rubbing her back while he buried his nose in the perfume of her hair. When they graded or read together in the evenings, he would bend her over the desk, then take her again in the shower that night. Every morning, Y/N would wake up in the best way possible, feeling Remus’ tight hold behind her and his already hard cock rutting up against the flesh of her butt.
This morning, however, the couple wasn’t able to squeeze in a nice wake-up shag. They had overslept, and Y/N who started at 9am while Remus at 10, had to to get to class. She hurried off, getting dressed and down for a quick breakfast, leaving Remus waking up alone, humping the sheets slightly.
His frustrations lasted all day, and definitely were not aided when he saw that Y/N was wearing his favourite pair of pants of hers at lunchtime. While the way they looked at each other always somewhat hinted at their romance, Remus’ gaze was especially obvious, like he was mentally undressing her everywhere they went.
He was presently in between classes, sitting at a table in the staff room and trailing his wand over the lines of a student’s essay he was reading. He lifted his head when he heard the door creak open, and Y/N walked in happily, carrying a stack of papers in her hands. His thread was almost thrown back as he caught a whiff of her, just pure her, mixed with a hint of… arousal? She was wet, Remus thought lewdly.
Spotting Remus, Y/N gave him a big smile, then turned towards a little desk that had some of her stuff on it. Remus gave her a cheeky wink before his eyes followed her, unabashedly fixed on how those pants fit her so nicely. Y/N bent down to store the papers into her bag, and Remus quickly had to look away, forcing his gaze on the window before he would get hard.
“Hi, my love.” He smiled gently as she approached him, turning his chair and pulling her onto his lap.
“Rem!” Y/N whispered, jerking her head towards Professor Sprout.
She was the only other teacher there, but to Remus’ greatest delight, she seemed to have snoozed off in her armchair.
“She’s asleep.” Remus whispered back, hands running everywhere on Y/N’s body as she settled herself comfortably in his lap. “Besides, I missed you.”
“Aw, pumpkin-“ Y/N giggled, accepting Remus’ kiss as he pressed his lips on hers. “I, missed, you, too” She murmured in between kisses.
Remus’ hands were getting antsy, as one went to go squeeze Y/N’s breasts and the other caressed over her butt, smoothing over the thin fabric of her dress pants. The kiss deepened as they both began breathing heavier.
“Don’t,” Y/N breathed in, breaking apart from Remus’ soft face. “Don’t you have class in like-“ She glanced at the clock. “5 minutes?!”
Remus peered over her head and groaned, shaking his tousled head. “And you do too darling, right?”
“Yeah, it’s my last one of the day.” Y/N frowned.
Remus’ gaze softened, nuzzling Y/N’s nose with the tip of his own, in a cute little Eskimo kiss- type action.
“I really love these pants, you know, I’m wondering if you wore these on purpose” He grinned, the hand on her butt petting the material softly.
“Maybe, I did….” Y/N smiled back, their faces centimeters away from each other’s.
Remus, ears full of Y/N’s voice, nose full of Y/N’s natural homey scent, didn’t register the door opening again and they both turned with a jolt, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat.
Y/N jumped out of Remus’ lap, Remus smoothing his hands that were all over her body, over his robes.
“Hi, Professor McGonagall- I was just- we were just getting ready for our next l-lesson.” Y/N stammered, face growing hot in embarrassment.
“Yes, class, here- I’ll walk you to your class, darling.” Remus said, bowing his head and following Y/N out of the staff room.
“Mhmm.” Professor McGonagall hummed, peering at the two through her thin rectangle glasses. She didn’t bother reminding them they could call her ‘Minerva’, but as they shuffled out the door, her thin lips curled up in amusement. “Oh, Pomona, I’m sure you are very lucky to be dead asleep right now.” She whispered, to the Herbology teacher whose eyes were sealed shut.
In the hallway, Y/N and Remus burst out laughing once they got a safe distance away.
“I am never going to emotionally recover from that.” Remus choked in between gasps for breath.
“Please, I’m never going to look her in the eye ever again.” Y/N howled, wiping a tear with her wrist. “I mean, at least we were just sitting… and not actually doing.. anything.”
They walked along a couple stairways, their body language having adjusted to the busy Castle. 
“Thanks for walking me, you didn’t have to.” Y/N said, once they reached the Charms classroom. She stood back to the door, hands behind her on the doorknob.
Remus simply smiled courteously, eyes drifting down her. Then, quickly, he peered around them and into the classroom. Seeing it was empty, he reached behind Y/N, turned the doorknob and swirled her inside, pressing her up against the door.
“Oh, Rem-“ Y/N squeaked in surprise, but her voice faded into a soft moan as Remus kissed her, her arms going up to wrap around his neck.
“Sorry, my love, I just can’t get enough of you.” Remus chuckled when they finally pulled apart.
“Hmm.” Y/N licked her lips. Feeling Remus casing her in against the door like this, his big build towering over her, made her knees all weak. “Okay, you know the best part about these pants?” She inquired.
“Hmm? Tell me, sweetheart.” Remus mused, eyelids growing heavy as he stared into her face.
She rose on her tippy toes to meet the height of Remus’ ears, “The material is so thin-”
She spun around, facing the door and pressed her backside against Remus’ front, feeling him through his trousers.
Gasping as Remus’ large hands went up to squeeze both her breasts, further pushing her against the door as he pressed himself against her smaller body, she said, “-I have to wear a thong.”
Remus’ hands on her froze, his eyes growing dark. A low growl was ebbing up his throat but before he could respond, Y/N snaked out of his hold.
“Okay, bye honey- have a good class!” Y/N chirped, grinning widely as she opened the door to let a group of students in.
Remus composed himself in a fraction of a second, a hand raking through his hazel locks in attempt to comb them over.
“Hi, Professor Lupin!” Some students said, happy to see him, to which he answered with a polite and kind “Hello, hello!”, and “Hello, Dean!”.
Once Y/N’s class was over, she hurried up to her living quarters. After taking a hot shower, she climbed onto the bed, in nothing but a thong and one of Remus’ big sleeping shirts. She lied down comfortably, fingers toying with the collar as she waited for her husband. He had one other class after hers and should be finished soon.
Accurately enough, Remus’ figure appeared in the fireplace a few minutes later. His footsteps approached the bedroom and as he entered, his belt was already clinking as he was unfastening it with one hand.
“Oh, baby.” He hummed appreciatively as he took in the sight of Y/N, splayed across their bed, thighs balmy and exposed. “Is that my shirt?”
Y/N nodded, appreciating how Remus’ locks of hair had fallen on his forehead, as if he was constantly running his fingers through them- which he did, in attempt to concentrate when he was giving his last lessons of the day.
Gripping the hem, Y/N lifted the shirt off, exposing her naked chest. Remus made a guttural sound as he lunged forward, going to squeeze, lick and suck over her breasts. His hands wandered south, grazing the wet spot on the cotton stripe that covered Y/N’s mound.
“And whose pussy is this, hmm?” Remus snarled slightly, canines shining as his lips curled into an eager smirk.
Y/N licked her lips as she decided not to answer, her eyes had a glint to them when she stared back challengingly at her husband.
Remus raised an eyebrow, but kept an unfazed demeanour. He stepped back from the bed, taking a stand at the edge of it.
“Okay, baby girl, I see how you’re being. Turn around for me.”
Y/N looked up at him excitedly before slowly turning on the bed, onto her stomach.
Remus let out a small appreciative growl at the sight of Y/N’s ass covered only by a thin thong, right in front of him ready for him to ravage.
“Should’ve started with an easier question, kitten- who does this ass belong to?” Remus simpered.
He bent forward to squeeze both cheeks in his large hands, then went on to graze his teeth softly against the flesh of her ass. He could smell her arousal fully now, the scent of her wetness entering his nostrils and clouding his vision.
When Y/N merely arched her lower back to stick our her bum more prominently, wiggling it, Remus cursed. He roughly palmed the flesh before he lifted his hand and delivered a loud swat to it.
Y/N gripped the sheets in her hands as she yelped out of pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you, you wanted a good spanking from daddy, huh?” Remus hummed, rubbing over the spot soothingly. 
“Yes.” Y/N breathed out shakily. “Please.”
Remus kneaded the flesh in his hands and reveled in the way it would bounce after he spanked it a few more times.
“Oh darling,” he cooed, bending down to leave a slow trail of kisses up Y/N’s back. “Your little bum looks so cute marked up in pink by my hands.”
The skin had pinked, and a considerable area too, considering how large Remus’ hands were.
“Remus, I’m- I’m so wet for you.” Y/N cried, lifting her lower body weight onto her knees so Remus could see her pussy in the air. Glistening and dripping in arousal.
The sight sent adrenaline down Remus’ groin, his cock now painfully hard and straining against his trousers. He could in a flash, shed his lower layers and pound into Y/N’s cunt as his urges wished him to, but he had to get a taste first.
“Really?” He said as he kneeled down on the side of the bed, now eye-level with Y/N’s core. He peeled back her thong, throwing it further on the bed.
“Yes, oh God, please.”
Remus peered over Y/N’s legs to see her face, scrunched up in anticipation. His hands trailed over the side of her thighs, sending visible shivers down her spine. 
“Now, will you be a good girl and tell me… who this pretty ass and pussy belong to?” He said in a low purr, voice husky.
Y/N’s pussy clenched as she felt his face so close to where she needed him to be, his hands cementing themselves around her legs.
“Yours, Remmy, I’m all yours, now please-“ she begged, tears prickling at her eyes because of how much she ached for his touch.
Remus’ hands softly grazed down her back and pressed harshly once they got to the lower part where the curve of her ass began, and pulled her cunt straight into his face.
“Merlin, you smell so fucking sweet.” He swooned, inhaling deeply before quite literally diving into her cunt, his warm tongue stretching to lick against her clit.
Y/N’s eyes rolled back, her head pressing harder into the pillow. “Fuck…” She choked out. Her hips gyrated against Remus’ face, but his firm hold locked her in place as he devoured her.
They both moaned, Remus’ tongue running up her slit a couple times to lap up all the slickness and fully taste it. He gave her clit a quick kiss before sucking on it, taking it in between his lips. 
“Fuck, r-right there.” Y/N breathed out, finally feeling an ounce of her desire fulfilled. 
Remus licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin and nose. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock plumping at the feeling of her hips and legs trembling.
It was like meditation, the wolf inside him finally somewhat being appeased. He lapped at her cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do, tongue running through the soft folds that were sopping and slick from the mix of her arousal and his spit.
“Oh, Rem, oh-“ Y/N moaned, face scrunched in pleasure. The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, she was getting closer and she pushed her hips back against Remus’ mouth. He groaned into her cunt, his hands squeezing her fleshy hips harder, desperately stuffing his face into her. He loved it. 
He maintained his rhythm, focusing on suckling and flicking his tongue on her clit until she came with a cry, hips shaking out of his hold. He flattened his tongue to run it up her labia, and ended by planting a tender kiss on her sensitive clit before pulling away, slightly more sated than before.
“Delicious.” Remus panted, standing up and watching Y/N languidly turn over onto her back once again. He wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose clean with the back of his hand, Y/N watching with her face hot.
Y/N scooted to sit at the edge of the bed, ogling him. He towered over her as he stayed standing, looking down at her through heavy hungry eyelids, covered by his brown hair that was getting slightly messier.
“Wanna taste you.” Y/N smiled, reaching behind Remus’ kneecaps to bring him closer.
Remus chuckled darkly, his long arm needing to barely reach to stroke Y/N’s jaw.
“You look so cute from up here, dove, makes me want to play with you and see you cum, all over again.” He said, voice low.
Y/N bit her lip, not breaking eye contact with her husband.
“So gorgeous.” He groaned as Y/N took his thumb between her lips, suckling the pad of the finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking.. of what I want to do to you, how much I want to take that body of yours.”
“Then take me.” Y/N exhaled, mouth letting go of his thumb and smiling devilishly.
Remus’ eyes, if possible, turned darker in desire and he bent down, kissing Y/N passionately on the lips as his hands travelled down her naked torso. 
“Hmm, you’re so small, kitten,” Remus hummed, eyes following his hand that went to cup in between her legs. “Look how small your little pussy is in my hand.”
His fingers curled to feel how wet it was, Y/N spreading her thighs apart for him to access easier. He used his middle and ring finger to lather up some of her slickness, then dragged them up to her clit and started soft circles on it. Y/N whimpered, legs closing from how sensitive her bud was from her previous orgasm.
“Now, now pet.” Remus tutted, pulling away.
He licked the tips of his fingers clean, then shrugged off his woolly cardigan, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. The full moon approaching always got his body temperature hotter than usual, so he skipped wearing a cloak today, and was left in his white dress shirt and tie. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off his hands as he did so. Long, mature fingers with metal rings adorning the base of each.
“Keep your legs nice and spread f’me, alright, as I stuff you with my fingers.”
Bending forward again, he leaned one arm on the bed beside Y/N as his other hand found her clit again. The thick pads of his fingers played with her clit, rubbing the spot as Y/N bit her lip, body firing up for another orgasm.
“So cute, button.” He mused, nuzzling the top of Y/N’s head. “Look at that, your clit feels so little under my fingers, don’t you think? And your cunt, ah-“
He dipped a finger inside her, sliding right in and quickly added another one. Slowly petting the soft spongy walls of Y/N’s pussy, Y/N mewled, rutting her hips for more.
“So tight, so full just of my fingers. Tell me darling, do you like my fingers?”
“Mhhm.” Y/N nodded as Remus sped up. “Love your fingers, your hands, they’re so b-big.” She choked out, head hanging back as he fingered her.
“You like that? You fucking love how I can get you off with just m’fingers, yeah? Lord, this pussy’s so tight how will my cock even fit hmm?” Remus crooned, watching Y/N adoringly as he was knuckles deep inside her, his rings feeling cold upon her entrance.
Y/N opened her eyes, meeting Remus’ soft, scar-decorated face and turned her head to kiss him. Remus suckled on her spit-slicked lips, maintaining his fingers and bent his hand for the bone of his palm to press against her clit. Y/N gasped into the kiss, lips gaped apart as she whimpered into Remus’ mouth. Remus smiled, loving how flustered she was as she struggled to kiss him back, soaking in all her little cries and noises she made. 
His fingers inside her were going so fast, relentlessly hitting her g-spot over and over that his hard palm was grinding against her clit incessantly. Faster than the first time, she came, squeezing onto his forearm.
Fingers riding out her high, they slowed and pulled out, drenched in her wetness. Y/N collapsed onto her back, chest heaving.
“Oh, baby you are so beautiful.” Remus simpered, climbing on the bed and leaning over her to kiss her everywhere; her shoulders, neck, cheeks. “You think you got another one in you, bunny? Think you can let Moony bury his cock inside you?”
“Yes, give it to me please.” Y/N grinned widely, licking her lips and pulled Remus down by his tie, locking lips with him once more. “Need you inside me.”
“Oh, puppy. I am going to ruin you.” Remus said, this time in such a low murmur that had he not been an inch close to Y/N’s face, her ears wouldn’t have registered the tone.
Y/N sat up, helping her husband rid himself of his clothes. His bare chest exposed a few thin scars, which Y/N quickly smoothed her hands and lips over, routinely giving love to them, as she knew it was the part Remus couldn’t stand of his body.
Remus freed his hard-on, which was blushed an angry shade of dark pink. The bulbous head had been leaking of precum for a while now, and he exhaled a couple ragged breaths when he stroked himself, hand twisting around his tip. Y/N had leaned over to their bedside table to open a condom, and she replaced his hand with hers, pumping his long member before sliding it on. Remus already felt himself throb, and he knew that soon he’d be even more as Y/N’s pussy felt 100 times better than her hand.
“How do you want me?” Y/N breathed, backing up to the head of the bed as Remus went on his knees.
This was more of a rhetorical question, really, as it has been like this for years, that at every moon cycle end, their favourite was for Remus to take Y/N from behind. Y/N turned onto her elbows and knees, bending forward to prop her ass up.
“That’s it, good girl.” Remus licked his lips, lining himself up and pushed his cock slowly into Y/N’s warmth. 
He let out a loud hiss, face contorted in pleasure as he sank fully into her, his long, hard member stretching Y/N out to the fullest, filling her to the brim. “Merlin.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes dropping to where he disappeared into Y/N’s behind. “You always manage to stay so tight for me, darling- fuck, your pussy’s just squeezing m’cock so right, isn’t it?”
Y/N merely moaned, head dropping forward as she balanced her upper weight on her elbows, overwhelmed by feeling every single vein of Remus’ cock sliding in and out of her slowly. She clenched hard around him, causing his hips to tremor as Remus’ senses, including touch, were amplified tenfold.
He ceased momentarily, his cock just resting heavy inside Y/N’s cunt, his head deep at her g-spot. Y/N mewled, arching her back and twerked her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock. Remus growled at the sight, spanked her once, then his hands dived to grab the curve of her waist as he snapped, hips pounding into her now mercilessly.
“Oh God, fuck!” Y/N cried out with her head thrown back, as her elbows gave out from underneath her and her face sank forward into a heap of pillows. Her ass still up in the air, flesh slightly pink from Remus’ spanks delivered to it- it was a wonder how he didn’t cum from the sight of that alone as he fucked her from behind.
Remus kept up his quick rhythm, hips thrusting into her ruthlessly. They were both close, and Remus fucked into Y/N without an ounce or self-restraint left. He grunted loudly as she fell forward and her inner walls clenching down onto his member. His cock slipped in and out of her deliciously, as she had gotten so wet for him, sinful sounds echoing the room.
He bent forward, chest pressing against her back, their skin sweaty. 
“‘S that feel good, darling?” Remus said, lips ghosting over Y/N’s ear. She shuddered, his breath sending shivers up her neck as she felt him so close. His voice wasn’t his usual chesty, tenor honey-like. His words were uttered in a guttural one, his voice deeper, lower, sounding from the back of his throat. “You’re taking me so well- your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart.”
Y/N’s ears registered the praise as music, living for it. He adjusted his hips slightly to accommodate the new angle, thrusting to make sure he was hitting all the spots in Y/N he knew she liked.
“Mphhhm, please baby,” Y/N moaned, voice slightly muffled into the pillow. She turned her head to the side to rest her cheek on it instead. “Please Remus, oh-“ her voice whimpered, a little more clearly now.
Remus’ large hands had been gripping onto the flesh of Y/N’s hips roughly, tightly. He moved one up to her breasts, grabbing it and massaging it. His breath was hot on her back. He was nearing his orgasm too, his breathing loud and shaggy. Heaving grunts echoed off the walls of the rooms, and Y/N arched her back to feel his chest rise up and down against it.
“Good girl, good fucking girl- taking my cock so well. Shit.”
Remus let out a growl as he felt his cock be swallowed up in her cunt, her ribbed walls enveloping it so nicely as he ploughed into her. 
“You’re close aren’t you, dove?” He murmured into her neck with the same low voice, placing wet kisses onto it. Her hair was out of the way onto the other side, and he tasted the slight stickiness of how sweaty their night’s activities had gotten her. 
“Yes, yes, ye-es” Y/N chanted in a strangled voice, her words getting split at her throat from Remus’ vigorous pounding.
“Can tell from how tightly you’re squeezing me- shit, not going to last long either inside you like this. C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”
It was all too much. Y/N shaked as she felt Remus pump into her a few more crucial times. He felt so thick in her walls, his girth filling her up like no other. Moaning, her hips grinded back into Remus as she started to cum. She felt his warm hand reach down her belly and down to between her thighs and with the added pressure from the circles he rubbed on her clit, she came with a shudder. Her body shook as her breath caught in her throat, a string of profanities leaving her lips. Y/N’s sounds of pleasure filled Remus’ ears, driving him further into ecstasy.
“Good girl.” Remus purred, hips jerking forward frantically. 
“Remus, fill me up-“ Y/N moaned, knowing Remus loved hearing his name fall off her tongue like that. She propped herself back onto her elbow, reaching one hand behind her to hold the back of Remus’ neck. 
Remus pressed the side of his face into Y/N’s neck, her hand keeping him close to her. He growled into her ear, the low sound vibrating from his throat enough to make Y/N’s eyes roll back. Driving his cock into her, desperately chasing his high, he rutted his cock into her walls. His entire body strained as all his muscles worked to relieve himself, needily fucking out his animalistic urges. He came with a gasp, his hips jerked harshly as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into the condom. 
Panting, he hunched forward as his cock kept twitching. 
His whole muscular body trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut in the pleasure of his long-needed release. His hand was grasped onto Y/N’s chest and she loved the feeling, tilting her hips forward to match the movements of Remus’ orgasm.
Wheezing slightly, Remus finally pulled out of her slowly, Y/N whimpering slightly as her pussy clenched around nothing. He threw the used condom and collapsed onto his back, chest still heaving. Y/N followed suit beside him, onto her stomach, body limp. The afterwaves of her orgasm still sent pleasure through her body and she knew she’d feel too sore to even straighten her legs.
“My love.” Remus turned on his side.
“I can’t fucking move.” Y/N chuckled, voice muffled by the pillow.
Remus hummed, eyes raking over her used body and sat up, massaging over her shoulders then down her back. His hands reached her hips, where he caressed extra soothingly and slowly closed them together. He bent forward, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. She giggled as his locks of hair tickled her eyelid.
Languidly turning over, Y/N sighed in content.
Remus reached his hand, and pulled a strand of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind his ear. He felt warmth lower, as his body began to awaken for another round.
“We’re not getting much sleep tonight, huh?” Y/N giggled peering down at her husband.
It was a blessing that the Castle automatically out a Silencing charm on teachers’ living quarters, because anyone neighbouring them would have stayed up, hearing sinful, wet slapping sounds of skin all night.
part 6  and part 7 OUT NOW!!
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tags @bicyhot1  @pink-hufflepuff  @legitlaughingflamingo @brod16  @gerardonmyway  @blueleonor  @suranne-doesstuff  @rxmusblxck  @spxllcxstxr  @littleemo477  @just12randomfandoms  @svnkissdd  @norrreee  @m4r13l3y  @jess6578  @rorysreallyrandom  @the-nightingale-not-the-lark  @archeve19  @wolfstarslovechild  @pan-pride-12  @x4kai4x  @chrrybmb-mp3  @reggieluna  @happyslittlekitten  @missemilygilmore  @all-things-fictional @strangefirething  @abitofeverythinggg  @yeahshewayout  @imfreeeeeee123  @harold-pothead  @lunnybunny12  @ellieblack11  @tugabooos  @joyfulbiscuit  @justonemorechapter07 @wonderwoman292  @skateb0red  @secretsthathauntus  @siriusblackswhoree  @sabonbonn  @untraveled-road  @annabeljareau  @valiantobservationkitty @diffbeanofbrand  @theeicedamericano​  @spencerreidlove  @flannellover67  @wishiwasdeadric  @becks7401​  @katsav17  @emmy-kitty13  @purritoqueen  @girl22334  @monicafebyana​  @talsiaa​  @sierrax023​  @axva03  @uhh-dk  @nataliahgrace​  
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ppangjae · 4 years ago
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close to you | jaehyun (teaser)
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[RELEASE DATE]: Mid-May 2021
SUMMARY. You and Jaehyun have been dancing around each other for years, never finding the courage to speak up on your feelings. But here’s the problem: you and Jaehyun aren’t friends nor acquaintances, you’re two complete strangers who share nothing but several undergraduate classes and a strong, drawn connection. 
— you’re both strangers until you’re not. 
GENRE. fluff | angst | orange!au | strangers to lovers!au | college!au | lots of… pining 
WORD COUNT. roughly 15k
warnings. mentions of death, blood, and lots of swearing
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“Thanks for the coffee.”
You and Jaehyun have been productive all afternoon, creating a plan along with its respective deadlines to follow. Never would you have imagined closing the distance between you and Jaehyun. Whenever you would try to reach out to him, he would be twenty steps away. But standing next to each other like this, arms gently brushing against each other, unspoken thoughts, you’ll be more than satisfied. You just hope that your unspoken thoughts are somehow heard by him. 
“Do you always take this bus route home?” He questions out of nowhere.
You slowly nod your head in reply. “Always. Do you?”
He tilts his head in confusion. “That’s quite odd.”
“What’s odd?”
“I always take this bus route home too.” He begins to explain. “It’s odd that we’ve become friends now rather than years ago. It seems that there were many chances for our paths to cross.”
Jaehyun had a point. You always knew Jaehyun took this bus route going home. You would always sit in the back of the bus on days where afternoons weren’t busy and he would always stand near the front, helping the elderly get to their seat. As a spectator and observer, those were one of the many things you admired about Jaehyun. You and Jaehyun have shared many classes throughout your undergrad years, but you would always sit far from him, sitting behind him was ideal, because it gave you the chance to admire him from afar. There were many chances for your paths to cross, and you fear that you would let it drag on until you’re too late. 
The bus arrives and surprisingly, it’s not full. There are many empty seats available. Tapping your card against the card reader, you head straight to the back of the bus, plopping your butt down on one of the empty seats. Jaehyun follows suit, taking the empty seat right next to yours. Your breath hitches in your throat and you distract yourself by looking outside the window. The bus begins to move on its route.
“What’s your favourite colour?” He asks out of nowhere.
You raise an eyebrow. “Blue.”
Suddenly, he pulls out a set of earphones and plugs it into his phone, handing you one of them. You look at him, doe-eyed and hesitant. He senses your hesitancy and places the earphone into your ear himself, flashing you a warm smile. “It’s a long ride.”
And indeed, it is a long ride. Fourteen stops in, Jaehyun finally hits the stop request button. He’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, slowly getting up from his seat and waving goodbye. “This is me.”
You nod. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
Just as he’s about to get off, he gives you one last glance and calls out your name. You tear your gaze away from the window to look at him. “Text me when you get home safely.”
You chuckle. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be waiting for your text,” he says. “See you, Y/N.”
Jaehyun hops off of the bus and stands in the waiting shed, watching the bus drive away. As the bus gets smaller and smaller, he blows a raspberry, crossing the road. When he’s finally on the opposite side of the road, he heads to the waiting shed for a bus that’ll take him back to where he came from.
No matter what, always take the bus home with Y/N.
No matter what.
You let out a tiring sigh, yawning right after. Stretching out your arms, you get up from your seat to get off at the next stop. Out the window, apartments and buildings slowly transform into parking lots and a hospital. 
“Next stop, Seoul National Health Network.”
You request the bus to stop.
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On the bus ride back to where he came from, Jaehyun takes the seat at the back of the bus. The bus is quite empty this afternoon, with a couple of elderly people sitting near the front and a couple of high school students occupying the seats in the middle. Jaehyun zips one of his backpack pockets open, pulling out an envelope. Written on the envelope is his name with the handwriting itself identical to his own. Opening the envelope, he pulls out a letter. It’s a tear-stained letter, with some of the ink smudging because of it. But it’s a letter written from him, his future self. 
Dear Jaehyun,
Since this is the first time you’ll be taking the bus home with Y/N, I figured I would give you the reasons why in advance. You’re probably curious as to why you need to fulfill such an odd request. But it’s more than just a simple, odd request. I want you to remember a date.
May 26th, 2022. 
On this day, no matter what, I want you to take the bus home with Y/N. Even better, I want you to get off at the same stop as her. On May 26th, 2022, Y/N got into a car accident. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to make it and passed away because her body succumbed to her fatal injuries. It might be difficult to even imagine a world without Y/N, but it happened. 
As I write you this letter, I’ll be paying her a visit at the cemetery with Jungwoo. As I write you this letter, I’m doing this as a means to cope with it, where I would imagine a parallel world where we both exist and no one leaves the other behind. I imagine a parallel world where Y/N doesn’t pass away, where I am able to save her, where I am able to tell her how I feel.
As you can tell, I have many regrets. But I’ll get into those regrets later, not today.
No matter what, always take the bus home with Y/N.
No matter what.
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author’s note. you’ve reached the end of the teaser! this is what i’ve been working on in between exams and so this is definitely going to be posted (i’m already at 8k words so it’s almost reaching its end. 
if you want to be a part of the taglist for this monster fic, reply to THIS post! thank u uwu
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ram-reads · 2 years ago
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Blue Period follows Yatora Yaguchi, a high schooler who has no passions and is just going through the motions. His only goal in life is to get into a good college and pursue a career where he’ll earn a lot of money, but that goal is just to keep his parents happy. He holds absolutely no interest in art until one day his art teacher motivates him to use his art as a way to communicate how he feels. When he does that he ends up loving how it makes him feel and for the first time in his life he becomes passionate about something. So begins his life of increasing his skills in the art club to prepare for the entrance exams for the Tokyo University of the Arts, the most competitive art school in Japan. I ended up liking this manga a lot more than I thought I would. I was immediately drawn in by Yaguchi’s predicament. I believe everyone always feels the pressure in high school of choosing a career path that is typically deemed as “successful”. Art is usually not one of those paths. I remember hearing from many of my teachers that any sort of art degree is worthless. That really isn’t true though, and I appreciated how this manga shows that art is a valid career. I especially liked it when it pointed out that there is no guarantee that you’ll get a job no matter what you study in college, so why not choose a career path that follows your passions? I used to draw all the time when I first started college, but I haven’t felt motivated in years. This manga has helped inspire me though. It’s also surprisingly informative and has shown me that there’s a lot I don’t know about art, but if I put in the time and study I can get better. I’m actually jealous of Yaguchi because I wish I had his art teacher in high school. She teaches her students important art concepts in a way that makes sense, she actually critiques their work and gives advice so they can improve, and she challenges her students. This is everything I’ve always wanted from an art teacher, but I’ve never gotten it. I wish I could manifest her into the real world so she could teach me too! Another reason I enjoyed this manga is because of the characters. Yaguchi was a great protagonist. I liked how he was presented as a delinquent and he is one, but at the same time he’s also really smart and kind to others. The other character I really liked was Yuka-chan, a crossdressing classmate who butts heads with Yaguchi a lot. I liked their dynamic and I’m curious to learn more about Yuka-chan’s background. There were other characters too and I liked all of them. The art club Yaguchi joins consists of a diverse group of people, and I’m glad none of them got stereotyped. There’s one character, Umino, who is an otaku that likes to draw manga but they’re actually taken seriously and not made out to be weird. I was glad to see that for once. For a manga about art the art style is as good as you would expect. The character designs all felt different from each other so each character stood out in their own way. My favorite part was their facial expressions. What stood out the most to me though was that the mangaka uses other artist’s work within the story to represent each character’s art styles. This makes sense because if the mangaka drew each character’s art pieces they would probably all look similar. The mangaka does credit each artist by the panel their work appears in and again at the end of the manga. Blue Period did everything right in my book. It had a plot that spoke to me, interesting and diverse characters that I quickly grew attached to, and beautiful art. I wish my bookstore had the next volume so I could read it right away!
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amjustagirl · 4 years ago
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Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)
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feat. Kuroo Tetsuro
As requested by @forgetou (hope you love it bb!)
Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke
Masterlist link here
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff
A/N: Any other characters you’d like to see? Send me an ask! 
(happy to do any characters other than Kenma / Hinata / Tendo - I don’t trust myself to do them justice!)
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‘So I hear you’re going to fill in for Hinata next match?’ 
Your head whips around. A growl builds up in your throat. 
You’d recognise that sleaze ball voice anywhere - Kuroo Tetsuro, Slytherin prefect, top student in potions and more importantly, the scumbag keeper that formulated a strategy (alongside Oikawa, that brat - but that’s besides the point) to completely break down the Gryffindor chaser trio of Hinata, Lev and Yamamoto when Iwaizumi was out for an injury the last Quidditch match. 
If you weren’t playing against them, you’d admit that the Slytherin strategy was perfect. Suna and Daishou caged Hinata in with non-stop bludger head shots, and the Miya twins flew literal circles around Lev - still a beginner, so you’ll cut him some slack, so much that the two idiots collided when Kuroo feinted forward and they thought they finally had a chance to score. 
So now you have to step into Hinata’s position for the match next weekend.
You like Quidditch well enough, but you don’t have an overwhelming passion for it the way Hinata or Oikawa or Atsumu or heck, even Yaku does - monsters, the lot of them. You play it for fun, you enjoy being a reserve member, and you’d never expected that you’d have to play in an actual match with Iwaizumi, Lev, Hinata and Yamamoto all playing chaser already. 
You’re scared - and you hate feeling this way, especially a Gryffindor like you, so you snarl and hiss and kick your feet when Yaku drags you away from Kuroo, the demon keeper scolding you not to ‘cause a scene in the Great Hall - seriously, what are you five?’, though Lev and Yamamoto cheers you on. 
‘Come on, let’s make a bet on our match next weekend’, Kuroo calls after you, and you flail hard in Yaku’s arms enough that Yaku loses not just his balance, but his grip on you. 
‘Sure’, you shout defiantly, not caring that the pair of you have attracted an audience. You can see the entire Slytherin team five steps away, matching Cheshire grins on all of their faces. Your blood boils and you’re ready to accept the terms of whatever stupid bet this rooster head proposes. 
Kuroo’s grin widens. ‘I bet you can’t even get five goals past me.’ 
‘I bet you I can’, you retort, even as your heart sinks. Kuroo isn’t quite as good as Yaku, but he’s devious and brilliant at feints and you’re not even a starter on the Gryffindor team. But you’ve dug yourself into a hole, and you’re determined to commit to your position, damnit, so you keep your voice steady as you ask for his terms. 
‘If I win, you’ll have to go on a date with me the next weekend’. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, eyes crinkling at its corners in amusement as you mouth an outraged ‘what the hell?’ and Yaku starts shouting bloody murder himself. 
You gather yourself and resist Yaku’s attempts at pulling you away. ‘And if I win, what do I get?’ 
Kuroo laughs airily. ‘I highly doubt that, but name your price, sweetheart’. 
You think of the most embarrassing thing you could possibly inflict on this smug bastard, your eyes landing on the ridiculous mop of hair on his head and it’s your turn to grin, sharp and full of edges. 
‘Fine. If I win, you’ll shave your head’. 
‘Deal.’ 
Kuroo sticks his hand out to you and you take it. You feel like you’ve just made a deal with the devil himself. 
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Iwaizumi nags you to bits when Yaku tells him of the entire debacle, the Gryffindor keeper throwing himself dramatically across the locker room bench, complaining that he’s done being a damn babysitter to this lot of idiots without any sense of self preservation. 
‘You’re gonna need a whole lot of training in that case’, Iwaizumi tells you grimly, and you sigh, because you know it’s not going to do any good. 
And you’re right, because even though you’ve spent the entire week training and running drills in snow and sleet and rain, it’s not enough. You barely get three goals against Kuroo in the match, let alone five - and to be fair, one of them was when you literally threw Lev against him when the referee wasn’t looking, so you resign yourself to his mocking looks when the whistle blows, marking the end of the match where Oikawa outsmarts Kageyama to grab the snitch out of the air first. You feel a kinship with the captured snitch, the pathetic fluttering of its wings so much like your futile attempts to win the damn bet. 
Kuroo smirks at you knowingly when you refuse to take his hand at the end of the game. ‘I guess I’ll be seeing you next weekend?’ he asks, eyes glinting as you huff and fold your arms across your chest. 
‘Fine, I guess’, you answer with a distinct lack of grace. You don’t notice when his smirk turns into a genuine smile. 
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The Gryffindor boys crowd around you, groaning in disappointment when you tell them no they’re not allowed to follow you around Hogsmeade, even if you’re on a date with Kuroo Tetsuro - and no, Lev, a disguise is not going to work, your height and ridiculous hair makes you far too conspicuous for that! 
‘I’ll beat him up if he does anything’, Iwaizumi threatens, and you roll your eyes at his overprotective streak. 
‘I’ll be fine’, you reply, shrugging off Yaku’s attempts at giving you ridiculous magic artifacts intended to ward off wandering hands. Kuroo Tetsuro may be insufferable and smug and a general pain in the butt, but he’s not an absolute piece of shit - plus, you’re handy with your wands in duels so you’re certain you can handle anything he throws at you. 
You don’t even bother putting on a lick of makeup when you prepare to meet him. He magicks an enchanted paper plane to land on your desk during potions to tell you that he’ll pick you up from Gryffindor tower at three o’clock sharp, and he’s leaning against the pillar with feline grace as you tumble out of the portrait hole, your teammates shooting him deadly glares as he sweeps you off with his palm warm against the small of your back. 
‘Want to grab a drink first?’ he asks, with a surprising amount of concern when your nose turns pink in the cold. 
You nod hesitantly, expecting him to drag you into the pink and white monstrosity that is Madam Puddifoots to complete your humiliation, but he doesn’t - holding the door open to the Three Broomsticks, ushering you into the corner booth, ordering a pint of butterbeer for you. 
‘My team’s not here, don’t worry’, he says, laughing when you glance around the pub, eyes narrowed for any signs of that odious Oikawa or the bothersome Miya twins - or worse, snarky Suna and devious Daishou, but Kuroo isn’t lying, none of them are around to witness the indignity of your date with one Kuroo Tetsuro. 
‘Do you drag unwilling girls into pubs often?’ you snark, tapping your fingers on the table irritably. 
‘Nah, only you’, he answers easily, smirk widening with mirth when you wrinkle your nose at him. ‘Come on, lighten up a bit - we might as well get to know each other since we’re going to be spending the whole afternoon together.’
‘Fine’, you say sourly, brightening only when the bartender brings your drinks. ‘Why don’t you tell me about yourself’. 
 And so even though you’ve been classmates with Kuroo for years, you learn for the first time that he’s not intending to be a professional Quidditch player when he graduates next year, even though you admit he’s a talented keeper in his own right. 
‘Really? You’re giving up Quidditch?’
‘Yeah - I have it all thought out I’m going to study potions further and figure out how to revolutionise the potions industry - d’you know the muggles have a pharmaceuticals industry that’s like our potions industry, only hugely profitable?’ 
It’s so typical of a Slytherin that you can’t help but snort. 
But then he disarms you with funny stories of himself growing up. You learn that his parents separated when he was only five, and as a result, he stayed mostly with his grandparents growing up. You learn that he was lonely and shy and awkward - really? you? you choke on your butterbeer incredulously  - at least until he moved next door to Kenma from Ravenclaw. 
‘I introduced him to Quidditch, and he’s a natural at coming up with strategies’, he says proudly, proceeding to chatter fondly of quiet, unsociable Kenma, who you can tell is his little brother in all but name and blood.
You tell him about growing up with three older brothers - all Gryffindors, just like you. He listens to your stories about breaking your arm when you stole your eldest brother’s broom, chuckles at your recounting of the pranks you pull on your teammates to remind them that you may be a girl, but you can take of yourself just fine - because Iwaizumi and Yaku tend to take their protective side a tad too far sometimes.  
It’s so pleasant that you forget that your date is the result of a bet, and you don’t even think twice about raising a napkin to gently wipe the froth from butterbeer off the corner of Kuroo’s mouth - it comes with the territory of being teammates with messy eaters like Hinata and Kageyama - until he freezes in shock. 
‘I’m sorry!’ you blurt out, mortified. But instead of teasing you for your forwardness, Kuroo turns bright red and gapes at you. He must think you’re an idiot. ‘Um - d’you want to check out Honeydukes before they close?’ you ask, in a desperate attempt to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation.
That jolts Kuroo out of his daze. Thankfully, any awkwardness vanishes when he slides out of his seat to steal the bill from you. You complain because he refuses point blank to split the bill with you, and he even playfully keeps his hands above his head to avoid your attempts at pressing coins into his hands until you reach the candy store. 
You watch in amusement as he loads his basket with chocolates and sweets for his team. He gets dark chocolate for Miya Osamu, and white chocolate for his twin Atsumu - at this point, I’m convinced they’re just determined to like the opposite of what the other prefers just to be contrary, he laughingly tells you. He gets creamy nougats for Oikawa - I should stop by the bread store to get him mlik bread, but his fangirls spoil him enough so I shan’t, he says. Ice mice for Suna to prank the twins with, tooth flossing stringmints for Daishou - he needs to clean his fangs, he jokes, and a whole bunch of chocolate frogs to be used as bribes for Kenma to go to bed on time. 
It’s lovely and warm in the store. You have a good time tossing fizzing frisbees behind the storekeeper’s back at Kuroo, dodging as he tries to drop jellybeans down your shirt. At the checkout counter, you protest again when he slyly tells the cashier that he’ll pay for your purchases on top of his, and he doesn’t even let you carry your own chocolates as you’re walking back to the castle. 
‘I’m perfectly capable of carrying a bag of chocolates by myself’, you huff, annoyed that yet another boy is treating you as though you’re made of glass. 
‘I believe you’ Kuroo replies emphatically, pressing his hand to his chest with  dramatic flair. ‘But I’m also a kind and considerate soul, because someone forgot to bring her gloves, and I’m going to need to save your hands if you actually want a shot at trying to get more goals past me next time’. 
You scowl. ‘Fine’, but you relent grudgingly. You didn’t even know he noticed that your hands are numb and cold. You’ve just never enjoyed the cold, and to make matters worse, it’s snowing. A chilly wind picks up, and you sneeze thrice in quick succession. 
‘Can’t wait to get back indoors, or can’t wait for the date to be over?’, he comments as you pick up your pace, trudging through the cold wet snow. You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw drops when he tugs you to a stop, tucking his cloak securely over your shoulders. His body heat and the faint scent of cinnamon and butterbeer still lingers in the fabric and you can’t help but wrap his cloak tighter around yourself.  
‘There’, he says, satisfied. ‘Better?’  
You nod, not trusting yourself to respond. 
He walks you all the way back to Gryffindor tower and when you try to return his cloak, to your surprise, he refuses to take it back. 
‘Keep it for our next date’, he tells you cheekily, laughing when your eyes widen and you choke on your breath. 
‘I don’t recall hearing you ask for a second date’, you reply archly when your body finally stops its attempts at expelling your lungs from your chest. 
‘Well, I am now’, he replies. 
You look at him. Though the smirk he wears on his lips is unwavering, you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. And though you’d never think you’d ever say it, but the afternoon was a pleasure, and Kuroo was a lovely date. 
You - you like him, this adorable dork of a boy who’s both charming and confident yet awkward and uncertain at the same time. He’s caring and funny and ambitious and there are so many facets of him that you’ve only discovered today - and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re curious enough to want to delve deeper into the enigma that is one Kuroo Tetsuro. 
‘Fine’, you mumble, the tips of your ears turning pink. This time it’s definitely not from the cold. 
‘Yeah?’ he asks, quietly, uncertainly. 
‘Yeah’, you reply softly, casting your gaze down to the floor, suddenly shy. You don’t notice him take a step forward, startling as he gently tilts your chin up to face him. Your first instinct is to snap at him for coming so close, but he’s too quick for you to even react, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead, tenderly tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. 
‘Next week then’, he says, with a wide smile before sweeping off, leaving you standing in the middle of the corridor, mouth open in shock. 
The portrait door swings open. 
‘WHY ARE YOU IN GREEN AND SILVER?!’ 
‘HOLY SHIT, WAIT A MINUTE IS THAT KUROO’S CLOAK?’ 
‘Did he curse you? DO WE NEED TO DEFEND YOUR HONOUR?’ 
You bury your burning face in your hands. Your teammates are not going to take this well. 
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