#starts huffing into a digital paper bag as soon as she leaves the room

[valerierowan]

She booted up, had two seconds to sort through all the data in Aloy’s focus, check all the sensor input from the base, and process it all, and then heaved a MASSIVE internal sigh.

GOOD MORNING, MOM

[starryeyedkoo]

Genre: badboy!au, gang!au, college!au, angst!!, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: mature language, alcohol use (including mention of underage drinking which i do not condone), violence, minor character death, brief mention of addiction, tsundere jungkook, (cheesy) angst around every. corner. (seriously it never stops i’m sorry)

Word Count: 22.9k (here we go again i’m so sorry)

“Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

a/n: this story is just cliche after cliche… because i’m a hoe for cliches, so hopefully it’s not too much hehe. this fic was really self-indulgent and dramatic so be warned !! also this fic was inspired by the dialogue i wrote above (which actually didn’t even make it into the story) and these songs: Harder by Oliver Riot and Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

You tapped the end of your pencil on the surface of the desk you sat at in an attempt to keep your eyes from drooping shut while you worked on the last few problems of your Statistics test. Your ears zeroed in on every sound present in the room, including the flipping of a page coming from behind you, the sniffling from the boy across the room that has been a persistent provocation for the last hour and a half, and also the boy sitting a seat away from you who huffed out a breath and sent you an irritated glance. You pursed your lips and quickly steadied the grasp of your pencil before it became an even bigger annoyance to him.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long hour and a half, you had finally made it to the end of your test with each problem filled out and just a few seconds to spare. Once time was called, you were quick to make your way to turn in your packet and then you turned straight towards the exit. Just as you were only a few meager steps in front of the professor’s desk, he called you over asking if he could speak with you. “Ms. _____, how was the test?” You stopped short, a little confused as to why he had stopped you from walking straight out of there. Before you could produce an easy answer to quickly end the conversation, he interrupted you, “Please feel free to let me know if you need some extra help. I know statistics isn’t easy, so I understand if you’re struggling a bit.”

Your brows drew together in confusion and you glanced around the room at the last lucky students making their way out before you could, each of them dropping their test packets on the corner of his desk and turning the other way. “What makes you think I need help?” You flashed a pleasant smile to maintain respect towards your teacher.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, the curriculum of our university is especially challenging, and I know it may be a bit of a strain for you,” he offered, gesturing towards you in what you were sure was of a demeaning nature.

The smile melted off your face and you found it difficult to keep your lips from turning down in disbelief. “It’s not too different from anything I’ve had to do before.”

“Is that so?” your professor inquired with a doubtful smirk creeping onto his face, and that had been the last straw.

“Actually,” you corrected, suddenly feeling brave and bold enough to defend yourself, “I believe my private high school’s rigor was much more difficult to tolerate than this, but thank you for your concern.” Your false thankfulness did not extend to your facial features, lips turned into a scowl. “Believe it or not, sir, I made it into this university through hard work, not just connections and thick stacks of cash.” You slammed your test paper down onto his desk, making daring eye contact with him for only a moment before turning to take your leave. “Have a nice day,” you bid him sarcastically, striding out the exit.

As soon as you were far enough to overcome the blinding frustration you had just unleashed, you quickly realized you would most likely regret giving your teacher that attitude, but honestly, he deserved it. Screw him.

After anger came the frustration that you had been facing since you enrolled in this university that had been beating down on you like heavy rain, slowly wearing you out the longer you had to withstand it. Nearly everyone you met would soon make the connection between you and your family name and make assumptions about you, several of them nasty. Your least favorite of the rumors however, and maybe it was because it was the most frequent, was that you paid your way into university. For some reason, people couldn’t seem to fathom the idea of you having a functioning brain, and you were getting sick of it.

During your walk, the sky creeped open and rain began to drizzle down, further dampening your mood. Then in the distance, quickly becoming louder, you heard the boom of the bass from the speakers of a car. Next thing you knew, you saw a convertible with its top down coming down the road, filled to more than its full capacity with young men, and just as you had expected it slowed as it was about to pass you. “Hey, little lady, why don’t you come for a ride with us?” one of the boys offered slyly.

You refused to even pretend to play along though, and instead you just put in your earphones and turned your music up to max volume to drown them out until they had enough fun and turned around. It definitely was not the first time that had happened. Frequently, actually, boys would cross over into this side of town and entertain themselves by messing with the snooty, rich folk. You couldn’t blame them, to be honest. Sometimes you felt the same way. Sometimes, you wished you could disassociate yourself with everything that had to do with this city and start something new where no one had any idea who you or your family were.

You were feeling bored, unfulfilled… You really weren’t sure what it was, but you were feeling just as gray and lifeless as the cloudy sky. The concrete streets and buildings of the city. Even the river’s flowing water displayed a dead, sooty color under the gloomy sky. You began to wonder if your eyes were one day going to reflect the same shade.

“No! Absolutely not! This is ridiculous!” Your mother barked, angrily pressing her finger harshly down onto the remote’s power button as the screen of the television went dark. The news anchor had just been reporting on today’s commencement of the new policy enacted by your city to allow ‘free entry of especially gifted students from less fortunate communities’ into the most prestigious university in your city. “I am paying way too much money to send you to this school to keep you away from these thugs, and now they get to waltz on in there for absolutely no charge?”

By ‘thugs’ she meant, of course, the people from the west side of the city. You barely suppressed the eye roll that crept up on you. “If you really wanted me away from them, you should have let me leave the city like I wanted.”

“Yeah, you far enough away where I can’t keep an eye on you? That won’t be happening.” She shook her head disapprovingly before returning her attention to her laptop, typing away at the keyboard. Suddenly, her phone began to ring, and she quickly scooped it up, composing herself before answering with a business-like greeting and excusing herself from the room.

You sighed, checking your phone for the time, the digital numbers indicating that you had thirty-five minutes until your morning lecture on photography, so you placed your plate in the sink, leaving it for the cleaning service to take care of when they came later in the day, as they did every other day. You scooped up your bag and slipped your shoes on, calling to your mother who was most likely already in her office, “Okay, Mom, I’m heading out!” No response. You gave a quick sigh before mumbling to yourself, “Bye.”

Because your house was conveniently located in the busy part of town, and the university stood just outside the business district, it was a relatively short walk, only about twenty minutes long. Your mother insisted she could have her driver take you to and from classes, but you denied. You would much rather walk than draw more attention to yourself and risk looking like a spoiled brat, even though your college was mostly comprised of students who came from wealthy families like you had.

You quickly decided that stopping for a coffee on the way to class was a poor decision on your part now that you were ever so casually speeding down the last block to get there in time. You were heading to the row just a few back from the front as you always did when you spotted an unfamiliar face in the very seat you had claimed since the beginning of the semester. The rest of the row was practically empty since this was a fairly small class. He seriously couldn’t have picked any other spot?

You slowly approached, careful to keep a friendly smile on your face, especially since he seemed to be a new student. You set your bag in the seat next to him before speaking quietly, “Excuse me, but would you mind moving down a few seats? This is usually where I sit.”

The boy looked up from under his black bangs that fell over his forehead. “Aren’t there plenty of other seats to choose from?” he deadpanned, looking up and down the nearly empty row of seats. The polite smile faltered for a moment before you exaggerated it even more.

“I suppose there are…” you reluctantly agreed through clenched teeth, picking up your bag and moving yourself down a few seats from the boy who was now fiddling with his camera he had brought to class. Just moments later, your professor came in, greeting the class and beginning the lecture. You quickly brought out your notebook and your own camera, and you noticed the eyes of the boy sitting next to you staring intently at your camera. Brows turning down in petty dislike for this new student, you brought your hand up to take the strap and pull it closer to you, not afraid to let him to see your scowl.

After another very long and confusing photography lecture, you were once again puzzled by the assignment you had been given and you reluctantly had to ask your professor for help before you left the classroom. You didn’t think this class would be so difficult. You only took it as an elective for an easy A, but instead it ended up being much more complicated than you had initially anticipated. No matter how much you played around, you couldn’t figure out how to get the perfect picture with the right details like everyone else could. “Professor Choi,” you called for her attention. She looked up from the stack of papers she was arranging at her desk while you slung your bag over your shoulder and approached her with hurried steps. “I just had a quick question about exactly how to use—”

“Ms. _____, I’m sorry, but I cannot keep answering your questions about the functions of your camera. This should be prior knowledge or something to study and experiment with in your own time. If you need help, you should consider getting advice from another student who is more well-versed with a camera.” She suddenly looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding the same boy still lingering, finally leaving from where he sat. “Like Mr. Jeon, for example,” she gestured to him, and his head perked up at the sound of his name. “He’s one of our new students from the Prodigy Program, Jeon Jungkook, and he possesses extraordinary photography skills. He would be an excellent resource for help. Mr. Jeon, how do you feel about that?”

You were quick to wave your hands in protest, voicing, “No, that’s really not necessary.”

“According to your dropping grade, I believe it is necessary, Ms. _____,” she spoke over the rim of her glasses. You felt your cheeks burn red in humiliation, catching a glimpse of the boy fighting back a smug grin. “Mr. Jeon, please tutor her in the class. She would surely appreciate it. Ms. _____, perhaps you can show him around campus and get him accustomed to the new surroundings in return.”

You stayed silent, listening to the clicking of her heels as she left the both of you behind in the empty classroom. It was silent and stiff, and you were still chewing on your bottom lip in embarrassment, especially in front of the boy with whom you had just hit it off poorly an hour prior. Jungkook suddenly cleared his throat and began to speak, but you had no interest in what he was about to say, so you shoved past him and left without a word.

You almost considered not showing up to the next class, but you swallowed your pride and walked through those doors and quickly made your way to the back corner of the room. You were sure you felt Jungkook’s eyes follow you as you passed by your usual row, where he still sat in your seat. You barely even cared anymore, though. He could have it. You would much rather finish the semester hidden in the back of the classroom.

You took no time in leaving once class was over, heading out the door to quickly reach the fresh air of the outside where you didn’t feel like you had to hold your breath, not forgetting to shoot a glare to Professor Choi as you passed by her desk. You made sure you had enough time to get to class today by choosing to not get a coffee before class started, so you decided now would be the best time to do so. You crossed through the courtyard to get to your usual cafe just outside of the campus.

Once you sat down, you brought out your laptop and your camera in order to finally figure out how this thing worked. You should have done it earlier, but you were discouraged so you let the problem fester for a few more days before finally attacking it. You were fiddling around with a few of the functions that you were reading about on your computer, desperately trying to figure out how to make your pictures look professional. You were finally able to focus once your coffee was ready, but you were once again distracted when you felt eyes on you and you looked up to search around. That’s when you spotted familiar dark bangs under a black hoodie. You quickly looked back down, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, but you soon realized he was sauntering directly over to the table you sat at.

He dropped himself down onto the chair across from yours, but he only sat there, waiting for you to say something first. “Can I help you?” you offered grumpily.

“No, but I can help you.” He still stared with the nonchalant, blank expression, which for some reason made his presence even more irritating. You ignored his offer and instead became accusing.

“How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me or something?” You looked him over suspiciously.

An impassive smirk grew on one side of his lips. “I may have seen you come this way.” You scoffed, still wondering why he would have gone out of his way to come here. “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m new around here. I’ve got no one to talk to.”

You raised a brow in disbelief. “So you came to talk to me?”

His lips suddenly turned down and his playful demeanor switched off. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice suddenly holding a deeper tone as he spoke lowly, “What, is the pretty little rich girl too good for me?” You were suddenly taken aback and your eyes went round. “Surprised?” he continued with an angry snort. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. People around campus seem to like to talk about you.”

Your shoulders drooped at the thought. “Yeah, they sure do,” you sighed, suddenly frustrated at your unavoidable reputation within your school. “I guess that’s what happens when your dad is the founder of one of the biggest tech supplier companies in Korea. Well… was. My mom took his place as CEO now, but technically it’s—” You noticed you began rambling and had already said way more than you needed to, so you quickly clamped your mouth shut, but you couldn’t stop yourself from opening it again to ramble nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” you laughed lamely, leaning back into your seat.

Jungkook straightened himself up suddenly and his voice became strangely unnatural. “Tech supplier, huh?” You noticed something seemed rather insincere, as if his mind was preoccupied. “What about your dad? Where is he now?” He suddenly inquired casually.

Your brows shot up for only a moment before your form deflated when you answered his question. “He’s… He’s dead, actually.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly widened before he mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He looked remorseful, but his eyes were also unfocused and distracted, making you unsure if you should actually take his condolences seriously.

You squinted your eyes in confusion, but you ignored the weird feeling it gave you. You gave a quick smile, picking yourself up and moving on from the topic. “It’s alright. It happened a long time ago.”

Jungkook’s eyes focused back on you after he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Anyways,” he began, steering away from the saddening subject, “I’ll help you if you need me to.”

You debated the decision for a moment, but with one look back at the indecipherable directions on the screen of your computer, you decided getting his help would be the best option. “You know what, I would actually love your help,” you sighed, taking the last sip of your coffee. You looked at the time and realized that it had been much later than you anticipated, and knowing your mother, you would soon be receiving frantic messages and phone calls wondering where you were. “But can I take a raincheck on that? I should really be going.” You gave an apologetic smile, quickly packing up your things into your backpack and waving goodbye before you hurried back home.

After the next class, you both walked to the cafe together where Jungkook would give his first lesson on how to use a camera properly and how to take the perfect picture. You smiled while sitting down after you both ordered a drink. “Again, I’m sorry that you have to spend your time teaching me how to use a camera. I can’t believe I have to get tutored in photography of all things.”

“There’s no shame in a bad grade,” he impassively remarked, hanging his leather jacket over the back of his chair before sitting across from you. “Also, not to call you out or anything, but if you want to learn more, it’s probably not the best idea to sit in the back corner during class,” he lazily raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged your shoulders, agreeing, “Yeah that’s probably true, but it’s not easy getting humiliated by your professor.”

Jungkook’s lips turned down in nonchalance. “Why do you even care what she says? I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

You looked down and traced the lines in the wood that made the table with your finger. “Yeah. I guess I’m just tired of my professors thinking that I don’t belong in this school. Most of them seem to think I’m only here because I paid my way in, and that I don’t have any actual brains,” you scowled.

He sat there, face contorted in a mix of several different emotions, but he seemed apprehensive to express what he was thinking. Usually, you would feel like an idiot if someone reacted that way to anything you said, but there was something about Jungkook doing it that made it… not so bad? You had a feeling he wasn’t the type to be a fan of “deep conversations” like these, judging by the awkward hesitance as his face twitched in thought, seemingly unable to let any expression through his ever-calm-and-collected front.

Jungkook brushed it off and suddenly he reached across the table to bring your camera closer to him to examine. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” He played around with a few of the buttons and twisted the lense this way and that, looking through the viewfinder, then he shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable! I knew I recognized the model. You’ve got the best fucking camera money can buy and you don’t even know how to use it.” You would have been offended, but then you saw the small smile that appeared on his lips, and it was the first time you had seen one that was genuine, so you stayed quiet and let him enjoy the moment. “God, I would kill for one of these…” He continued looking through the viewfinder and snapping a few pictures for what now seemed like his own amusement instead of figuring out how it worked.

“Yeah, you really seem to like it,” you smirked, waiting patiently for him to be satisfied. He froze at your remark and quickly set the camera down, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he wiped that smile from his face when he was caught breaking his tough exterior.

He quickly wet his lips and straightened up in his seat as he began his lesson. “Okay then, let’s start with the basics.” You nodded eagerly, excited to finally gain some knowledge about a camera and hopefully be able to use it decently from now on. “The first thing you should know about is exposure. There’s three elements that make up exposure and those are aperture, shutter speed, and the ISO,” he slowly explained, pointing to each of the places on the camera that controlled each of these elements. You tried your best to follow along, but you found yourself getting distracted by the rings Jungkook wore on his fingers, and then your eyes traveled over his alarmingly good-looking hands and up the veins that ran up his forearm and suddenly you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. You shook your head lightly, trying to tune back in to Jungkook’s teaching, and this time you actually focused on his voice, but not necessarily the words it produced, but the velvety smooth sound of it.

No. This was not happening. You nervously downed the rest of your cooling coffee and looked at your phone in a panic, attempting to reel yourself back in. “You okay?” he asked in confusion, eyes flickering between you and your empty coffee cup when you unintentionally slammed it down onto the table.

Your eyes widened as you shook your head in dismissal. “N-no! I mean, yes! Everything’s fine.” He narrowed his gaze at you in doubt, but he didn’t bother to push it anyway. “Listen,” you began, eyes darting away from his gaze nervously, picking up your phone and looking for an excuse. “I actually am running short on time. I should be going.”

“I thought you had until—”

You gathered your things before standing up, chair screeching against the tiled floors. “I know,” you interrupted, wearing a guilty smile, “but my mom just texted me and she needs me.” You started toward the exit before skidding to a stop and turning back to him, still sitting there a little dumbfounded. “Can we meet after next class? No interruptions this time, I promise.” He answered with a simple nod, so you waved goodbye and pushed your way through the exit, taking a large sigh of relief once you had reached safety.

You felt bad that you had looked for an excuse to see him again, but you couldn’t help it. As much as you hated to admit it, he was undeniably attractive, and honestly, it was already driving you crazy. Besides, he still has to teach you about your camera, and you felt bad that you cut his lesson off, but you had to get out of there or else you may have lost it. You weren’t supposed to be getting distracted by a pretty face! No one had ever been able to so easily mess with your mind, but Jungkook wasn’t just anyone. He was mysterious and confusing and alluring and you were falling for it just like a cheesy romance novel protagonist. And that was terrifying because what would your mother think? You don’t know why you thought that really mattered, though. It’s just physical attraction and that can easily be ignored.

Turns out being physically attracted to someone is not so easily ignored. Here you were at the cafe sitting across from Jungkook, still completely and utterly blown away by the natural beauty of this man in front of you that you had never bothered to notice in anyone else. Not to mention, it only became more difficult to ignore that ticklish feeling in your stomach now that you’ve gotten to know him and the little quirks in his personality that he seems to suppress almost naturally, making you wonder how long he’s had to put up a front throughout his life.

“I’ve got you all figured out,” Jungkook insisted, pointing a finger in your direction, successfully snapping you out of your troubling internal monologue.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back with a challenging brow lifted. “Is that so?” You were much less timid than you had been the first time Jungkook had tried to teach you photography basics. You two had met several times now, and things had slowly become more natural between the two of you You came to enjoy his company, and you hoped it was safe to assume the same on his end. You still passed these meetings at the cafe off as “study sessions,” but you rarely got any tutoring done anymore, opting instead for conversation over a cup of coffee. Does that make you two friends? You weren’t exactly sure for yourself, and that was something you would never actually ask Jungkook, knowing he would probably find it awkward to actually talk about, even if he did consider you a friend.

“You’re just like the main character of all those cliche movies,” he explained, bringing you down from your cloudy thoughts yet again. “You’re the sheltered, well-behaved daughter who wants to rebel by doing something like getting a secret tattoo or falling for the bad boy. Tell me, am I irresistible?” He wore a cocky smirk that you were so tempted to wipe off with a slap to the face in your embarrassment, though you couldn’t help but laugh anyway. Your face burned crimson, which you hoped wouldn’t give you away, because right now, you were afraid he was dead on.

You searched desperately for a response to get him back, but as far as you knew, he was unbreakable, so you were forced to give up and retreat. “Yeah, right! I’m going to get my coffee,” you mumbled, standing up in attempt to escape and recuperate.

“Don’t worry. I already ordered it for you,” his voice came from behind. It was unusually soft compared to his normally gruff tone, and he looked out the window instead of at you. Was it just you or was he… shy?

“Oh!” you abruptly swiveled back, seeing a cup already placed on your side of the table. You picked it up to examine, looking for the markings to show its ingredients. “Is it—”

“It’s just the way you like it. I promise.”

You began digging through your purse in search of your wallet. “Let me pay you back, then,” you offered, pulling out a ten dollar bill when you were unable to find any smaller bills, not minding if he had to keep the change.

“No, don’t worry about it. My treat.” He shook his head, making no moves toward the cash held out in front of him.

“No, really take it,” you insisted, holding out the money, practically shoving it into his grip, but he only waved your hand away. “It’s the least I can do. You’re already helping me out for nothing in return.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got money—maybe not as much as you, princess—but it’s enough to keep me going.” You hated that his nickname had such an immediate effect on you, causing the same blush to reappear on your face. You didn’t want to draw more of his attention to you while your face was on fire, so you quickly gave up, retracting your hand and putting the money back into your wallet with a deep sigh. Jungkook perked up with an idea suddenly, leaning his forearms onto the table as he spoke. “Actually, I do have a way you could pay me back.” You nodded, waiting for his request. “I have a paper due for English 101 on Monday, and that class isn’t my strong suit. You’re good at English, right? Could you help me out with that?”

“Sure, I can look over that and help you revise it if you need me to. Have you finished so I can go ahead and look over it now?” you asked, already waiting for him to bring out his computer and show you his finished product.

You watched his tongue roll on the inside of his cheek and met his eyes that only held a blank stare. “I haven’t started.”

“What?” you shrieked. “Jungkook! That paper is due in two days, and you have none of it done? Those aren’t easy to rush, you know.” You scolded him, and he fluttered his eyes shut, exhaling slowly, as if he had expected that exact reaction from you. He only shrugged as a response, making you even more frustrated with the boy. “Okay, well I guess we need to meet up tomorrow to get that done, but the cafe’s closed on Sundays, so maybe we should meet in the courtyard.” You looked to him for any sort of confirmation or objection, but he only continued to listen uninterestedly, eliciting an exasperated huff from you. “Sure, we’ll do that. A little fresh air could do us some good anyway. Meet me at six.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t put just a little bit of effort into your appearance today. Definitely not because you were meeting Jungkook, though. You just didn’t have to wake up as early as usual, so you just happened to feel like putting on makeup and planning a nicer outfit as opposed to a hoodie and leggings like you wear for almost every single class.

You texted Jungkook to meet you at the right-most bench in the courtyard at six, but it was now almost a quarter after and there was still no sign of him. You slowly grew more impatient as each minute passed by and it took a considerable amount of effort to keep yourself from sending him a second text asking him where he was. Finally, you saw him jogging towards you from the path adjacent to where you sat, making you breathe in relief and you were about to berate him, but you quickly stopped yourself after one look at his dishevelled state and his slight limp that wasn’t hard to miss. Your eyes trailed him up and down in concern as you quickly stood up to meet him. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked, hands twitching by your sides as you fought the urge to brush away the hair hanging down in his face.

He beat you to it, luckily, as he swept his hair back and shook his head, dismissing the matter. “It’s nothing. I was just in a hurry. Sorry I’m late.” He plopped down onto the bench and you followed just after, still keeping your eyes trained on him in worry. When you put your hand down, you felt it land on top of his own, so you quickly picked it back and and instinctually looked down to wear his hand propped up his upper body and you didn’t miss the blot of scarlet on his knuckles.

You didn’t hesitate in taking his hand into your own now, bringing it up to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you. “You’re bleeding!” you pointed out to him, looking at the red that painted each of his knuckles.

He hummed, taking a careless glance before quickly wiping it off on his jeans, leaving a stain that your eyes focused on in disbelief before directing your rounded eyes back up to his face. He squinted at your reaction, clearly not nearly as interested as you were. “What? I was in a rush, and I fell. That’s all,” he insisted, opening his laptop to move on and get started on his paper.

Your eyes zeroed in on the skin just below his eye that was beginning to take on a dark hue. “I’d believe you if your eye weren’t turning blue right now.” His hand came up to touch his eye without thinking and you could see that he barely winced before he shook his head and continued to open up a document on his computer. You continued to stare patiently, but he made no move to relieve your concerns. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

He scoffed, clicking his tongue with eyes still focused on the screen in front of him. “I already did. The black eye is because my face hit the ground.” He turned to you to still find you scrutinizing him, but he chose to ignore it and get straight into writing the essay. He began to read the prompt aloud until he stopped when he felt a large drop of water fall onto his cheek, and at just about the same moment, you felt the same on your thigh. You both looked up and saw the dark clouds that had drifted in from a distance. Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch to go right on cue, the sky opened up and rain came crashing down on the city with a crack of thunder to top it all off.

After only a few moments, you were already much too wet for your own liking, so you dragged Jungkook behind you to the nearest awning of a building to stand under. “Great,” you murmured, already shivering from the chill of your damp clothes. “Now what are we gonna do?”

Jungkook sighed and looked out at the droplets that poured down just a few inches in front of him while drying off the screen of his laptop with his shirt. “You know, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. You don’t have to help.”

“No. I want to help. I need to after how much you’ve helped me,” you insisted. You tapped your chin in thought of a place to seek refuge from the rain, and the only place that came to mind was home. Home, however, was a risk since there was the chance that your mother would be home, but she usually worked even on Sundays, and you didn’t think there was any reason she wouldn’t be working today, so you decided that would be your best option. “We can go to my place to write this.”

You heard Jungkook mutter behind you, but you couldn’t make out what he said as you built up enough courage and went back out into the cold rain. You glanced behind you to see Jungkook hastily stuffing his laptop back into his bag and reluctantly following behind. Your teeth began to chatter and you crossed your arms over your chest to maintain some body heat. You heard Jungkook’s quiet voice, not quite able to understand what he had said, but he pulled you closer to him and had taken his leather jacket off, now holding it over both of your heads to keep the heavy flow of rain from beating down on you any longer. You blushed at the thoughtful act and your whole body began to feel warmer within moments.

Suddenly what you were sure would be a long, miserable walk went by much faster than you had expected, except for the fact that a jacket could only do so much and you were both still soaking wet and cold. You unlocked the front door and kicked off your soggy shoes, and Jungkook followed, and you told him to wait where he was on the doormat. You came back with a towel for each of you to dry off with. You wrapped the plush cloth around you tightly after squeezing out your dripping hair. To be honest, you hadn’t really thought this far ahead, so now you both stood in the doorway wondering what to do with your still very wet bodies that could easily damage the expensive furniture in your house.

You heard the front door just behind Jungkook begin to open and he quickly stepped out of the way before getting hit with it. Your heart dropped. It was your mother. She took in the scene with a bewildered appearance, eyes drifting from you, soaking wet with eyes like those of a deer caught in headlights to the equally damp boy with the leather jacket, forming black eye, and blood stain on his jeans.

“_____, who’s this?” she inquired with a strained smile, eyes flickering between the two of you. You had a feeling Jungkook could easily sense the tension because you saw him shift awkwardly between his feet.

“Mom, I didn’t think you’d be home. This is Jungkook. I’m helping him with English. We’re in the same class.”

“Oh, you go to college with _____? Where are you from Jungkook?” You could see from the look in her eye that she was testing him. She already knew, but she never thought that you would actually be dumb enough to bring someone like him into her house.

There was a moment of silence where you could tell he was thinking carefully about what to say, and you tried to step in and answer for him with something safe that you hoped your mother would accept and maybe even make her think her assumption was wrong—although that was entirely unlikely—but he spoke over you. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with my part of town. It’s west of the river.” You shrunk when you saw the forced smile slide off your mother’s features. You glanced to Jungkook. You never would have guessed from the calmness of his voice, but there was a certain challenging glint in his eyes.

“I see. I never thought I’d see the day when my daughter brought someone like you into my home.” She gave you a once over and you fluttered your eyes shut in shame that you knew you had no reason to feel and shouldn’t be feeling, but that look on your mother’s face never failed to make you feel guilty for absolutely anything.

Jungkook’s tongue poked into his cheek and he laughed dryly. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll keep my grubby hands to myself.” Your mother’s eyes widened at his rebellious response, and you quickly ushered him up the stairs to prevent any other confrontation that might have occurred had you not intervened.

Once you reached the top of the stairs and achieved peace for the present moment, you led Jungkook to your bedroom and quickly shut the door behind you, dragging your hands down your face in embarrassment and guilt and frustration and... you weren’t even sure what you were feeling at the moment. Jungkook still wore a scowl on his face when you peeked through your fingers,  and he spoke, “No offense, but your mom’s kind of a bitch.”

You groaned and kept your hands where they covered your face, too afraid to meet his intense gaze. “I know. I’m so sorry.” You finally let your hands fall to your sides, defeatedly. “I didn’t think she would be home, so I didn't think we would have this problem.”

You were at a loss for words, disappointed and embarrassed, until you finally let out in a small voice, “She’s not really like that, or at least she wasn’t always. She’s just hurt.” Jungkook didn’t even have to make a move before you elaborated, hopeful to give him some sort of explanation he would accept. “My father was killed by a gang member from the other side of town, and she just hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said equally as quietly as his eyes shifted to the ground. You saw his jaw clench and realized you were probably making him uncomfortable, so you dropped yourself onto your plush bed and patted the space beside you to beckon him to follow.

“Let’s get started on this paper, then,” you began jovially, although it was obvious to the both of you that the change of mood was at least partially forced.

Jungkook took slow steps to join you where you sat and released a quick sigh. “We’re not all like that.” Jungkook’s fingers were intertwined with each other while his elbows rested on his knees and his head was facing you, yet his eyes did not meet your own.

A soft, guilty smile grew on your lips. “It’s okay. I know.” You chewed on your bottom lip, lost in thought after your failure to divert from the subject. You were determined this time, however, as you motioned for him to bring out his laptop, asking, “Alright. What’s your topic?”

He laid his computer on his lap and handed you a paperback novel. “It’s a character analysis on a character of choice from this book.” You observed the illustrated cover and read the title. Luckily, you had read the novel before, so you could better help Jungkook write the essay. “I don’t know which character to write about though.”

You hummed in thought and flipped through the pages, briefly looking for names to jog your memory. “Well, the main character is the obvious choice, so if you want to impress your professor, that’s not the way to go. Were there any particular characters that interested you?”

Jungkook stared for a moment, but only shook his head in response, saying, “No. I didn’t even like the book.”

You frowned to yourself for a moment, remembering how much you had enjoyed reading the same book. You thought of the most memorable character and suggested to him, “What about Maxine? She was a major character and her story can be interpreted in several different ways, especially with how her relationship with Vernon developed.”

Jungkook scowled shaking his head. “She was the worst character. She couldn’t even take care of her own kid, let alone someone else’s. That’s why the whole plot seemed pointless to me.”

“Well, she was an addict, but throughout the story you could see her battling with her addiction for the sake of her son and everyone else who cared about her. She wasn’t able to succeed in keeping her son in the end, but her good characteristics shine through and that’s what you can write your paper about.”

“She was a shitty character and she didn’t care about her son, but if you want to insist I write the paper on her, then you can just write it for me.” Jungkook dropped the computer on the mattress in the space between you and pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to you.

Your brows creased in concern as you stood up just a few steps behind him. You tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just being annoying.”

He pushed your hand off of his shoulder and turned around to look at you, face still hardened. Your expression imitated his own, and you questioned impatiently, “Do you want me to help you or not?” Jungkook’s nostrils flared before his tensed arms folded over his chest dropped to his sides and he went back to his seat at the bed. You only observed him for a moment before you gave in and joined him once again, handing his laptop back to him and deciding to ignore the matter for now.

After a few hours of focusing solely on the paper, you both had finished and the final result was definitely worthy of a good grade. The majority of the time had passed in silence, with you leading most of the conversation and helping him with writing rules and him adding his own ideas to the paper silently. His quietness did not go unnoticed by you, though.

Jungkook was adding the finishing touches, and finally he closed his computer to pack it away. Meanwhile, you were debating bringing up the issue that had been weighing on you throughout the writing process of his essay. “Jungkook,” you began nervously, “I don’t know exactly what it was that made you so upset, but I’m sorry.” You glanced up to Jungkook, and you were sure you saw his hardened gaze become neutral as he noticed your eyes on him. “You can talk to me about whatever it is that’s bothering you, though. Just so you know.” One end of your mouth quirked up in an attempt to be comforting without overstepping your boundaries.

Jungkook rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, propping himself up on his hands. His eyes stayed on the corner of the ceiling as he explained. “I guess I just see a lot of resemblance between my own mother and Maxine.” Jungkook shuffled his feet on the ground before continuing, “I guess now that you explain it though, Maxine was actually better than her when it comes down to it.”

You watched silently as his brows pulled together in concentration on the floor below him. You could tell he had been hurt, though you weren’t exactly sure how, but you didn’t expect him to elaborate any further. You sighed in thought and melted further into your bed. “Don’t go feeling sorry for me, now. It never actually mattered to me.” You almost pointed out the mirthless smile that spread across his lips, but kept your mouth shut tightly in a moment of hesitation. It wasn’t difficult to see that he was suppressing his emotions, and you knew he would eventually pay for having done that for probably a majority of his life, but you were afraid to push your thoughts onto him seeing how he had a habit of shutting down whenever he had to express something real.

Jungkook cleared his throat, suddenly ushering you out of your thoughts and you hadn’t even realized that you had been staring the whole time. Your eyes darted away, but you didn’t miss the silent chuckle that came forth from Jungkook’s lips. With your face burning red, you diverted your attention to the time on your phone screen, gasping, “I didn’t even realize it had gotten so late.” You stood up, pulling back your curtains and peeking outside to see the sun had already set. “You shouldn’t walk home at this time of night. Do you want me to get you an Uber?” you worried, already pulling up the app on your phone.

He placed his hand on the rim of your phone, pulling it down to get your attention, chuckling, “I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

You pressed your lips together, concerned, still hesitating to let him go when you could help. He already picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, however, so you were forced to digress as he began to walk away. You followed him down the stairs toward the front door, requesting, “Fine, but text me when you get home safely.”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back his laughter, throwing a look over his shoulder at you. “Don’t smother me.”

“I’m not!” you countered with a grin. You crossed your arms over your chest at the breeze let in as Jungkook turned to face you one last time on the front porch.

Jungkook looked over your shoulder and the fraction of a smile that had been present on his lips faded away. “I’ll see you later, _____.”

You bid him farewell in return and in the next moment he was descending the front steps and on his way home. You closed the door and you were once again surrounded by the warmth of the inside, but your goosebumps did not go away when you saw your mother who had been standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as he left. The both of you made eye contact for a few moments before she wordlessly turned and walked back into the kitchen, and you did the same, slinking back into your room as if you hadn’t seen her.

You laid on your bed, finishing up studying for class the next day, when your eyes shifted down to the numbers displayed in the bottom right corner of the screen. It was almost midnight. Jungkook should have gotten home by now, but the multiple times you had checked, even in the moment, you still received no message. You took it upon yourself to make sure he made it back alright.

‘Did you get home safely?’ You sighed throwing your phone down next to you, not expecting him to respond anytime soon since he was always very flaky with texting.

Your screen lit up within a few minutes however with a new message from Jungkook. You quickly slid your thumb across the screen and unlocked your phone to read his reply. ‘yes.’ It was short and simple, like his messages always were. He was a man of few words on all levels. However, for some reason, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you got, your lip caught between your smiling teeth at the thought that—though highly unlikely—his quick reply meant that he had been waiting for you to say something first. You felt silly, like you were a freshman in high school all over again, but the feeling was nonetheless welcomed.

Your fingers speedily typed back, ‘Good. You had me worried for a second there.’ You patiently watched the screen for a while until the read receipt popped up under your message. However, there was no indication of a reply coming your way, and you rolled your eyes at the far too familiar scenario. You lifted your head up for a moment, letting your eyes scan around your room for no particular reason until they landed on a black bag in the corner of your room. It resurfaced a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now, and you decided now was as good a time as any to confront it. Typing once more on your phone, you sent one more message to Jungkook. ‘Can we meet at the cafe tomorrow? There’s something I want to give to you.’

Suspecting Jungkook’s record-time reply was a one-time-only kind of thing, you placed your phone on your nightstand and closed your computer up, laying back in your bed to finally get some sleep for class the next day.

You sat at your usual table in the far corner of the cafe, waiting with both of your drinks already ordered and paid for in return for last time. Luckily, today, you weren’t kept waiting for long as Jungkook came walking in relatively on time with a black baseball cap pulled down tightly. As soon as he sat, you ducked your head and discovered the reason for his not-so-subtle accessorization. His eye had become darker than it was the day before. You clicked your tongue reaching over and lifting the cap to get a better look at it, fighting against Jungkook’s grip to hold it in place.

“Must have been quite a fall, huh?” you observed with an incredulous glare. Jungkook only silently nodded. You both knew that you knew he was lying, but no one said a word. After a moment of thought, you inhaled sharply and bent down to where the black bag sat next to you, pulling out the object of interest. “Right. I have something for you.”

Jungkook observed with a raised brow and watched as you pulled out your camera that he had seen countless times before. You placed it on the table and grinned, waiting for any sort of response, but Jungkook’s eyes only flickered between you and the camera cluelessly. “What?” he finally gave in and questioned.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed the camera across the little table closer to him. “I’m giving you the camera!”

Jungkook’s eyes were suddenly huge and his mouth hung open for a mere second in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. This camera costs a lot of money. Why would you just give it to me?”

Your eyes trailed down and you shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, you just got so excited when you saw it the first time that I’ve been thinking about how much more you deserved it since then. After this semester ends, I won’t even want to touch a camera again, but you love photography, so it’s much better in your hands.”

“Why don’t you just keep it until the end of the semester, then? There’s only a few more weeks.” His eyes were glued to the object in front of him like a child looks at a candy bar.

“I’ll get a different camera, a cheaper one, and that way you can use that one for the final project.” Jungkook still looked hesitant, looking to you one final time for some sort of approval. Your laugh bubbled up inside of you. “It’s yours! Take it.” His hands took hold of the camera in no time, a beaming smile on his face, as he began snapping pictures of anything and everything in sight. He took one of the tree just outside the window, then a picture of the two coffee mugs placed beside each other on the table, stopping to take a look at the results for just a moment before diving right back into it.

You weren’t even sure what made you want to give him the camera all of a sudden, but as you watched him, you realized it was probably because of that childlike smile on his face. Every once in a while, he was unable to uphold his strong exterior and instead he just let it down and showed a completely different side of himself, one that very few were ever lucky enough to see. It made you happy that you were one of the few.

Suddenly, you noticed that the camera lens had been pointed directly at you. You tried to bring your hands up to hide your face, but Jungkook was already looking at the result, signalling you had been too late. “Delete that!” you whined as Jungkook laughed obnoxiously, jerking the camera away from you as you tried to take it away from him. When he looked at the picture, his laughing grin turned into a softer smile. “Jungkook, please get rid of that. I probably looked so—”

“You look…” he cut you off, stopping mid sentence in thought. He looked up to you for a mere moment and then back down to the picture. “...beautiful.” At that moment you were completely floored, unable to say anything else. In the dead silence between the two of you, it was as if Jungkook had just registered what he said, and he quickly set down the camera, looking out the window because he had no idea where else to look.

You bit down on your lip to hold back the smile that wanted so desperately to spread across your face, pushing a few stray strands of hair back behind your ear. “Thank you,” you mumbled. Jungkook still looked out the window, but you heard a laugh get caught in his throat, which escalated to both of you giggling and blushing like idiots. Anyone walking by would look at the both of you and think you’re just a pair of awkward teenagers falling in love. Maybe that’s exactly what you were.

Your mother would kill you if she knew what you were doing right now. Jungkook wanted to kick off summer vacation with something new. You were hesitant at first, but Jungkook was able to coerce you into it, so now you found yourself in Jungkook’s side of the city, a place you had never ventured to before. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared, especially because of the way your mother described it, whether it was completely true or not, but it definitely didn’t help when Jungkook told you to stay close to him, which made your heart beat faster for two completely different reasons.

After passing through a dark alley that gave you goosebumps, Jungkook led you to a beaten up little building. You read the glowing sign at the top dubbing the building Roy’s Diner. “You brought me all the way here to eat?” you asked Jungkook doubtfully.

“Trust me. It’s worth it. The food here is amazing.” Jungkook walked a few steps ahead of you and looked back to see you examining the restaurant. You weren’t one to judge a book by its cover, but you weren’t even sure how this place was passing any kind of building inspections. “Come on, it’s one of my favorite places. It was in real bad shape a few years ago and on the brink of closing down.”

“Well, if you love this place so much, you should work to fix it up and save it. I’d be willing to help, too, if you want,” you offered.

Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy. “Save it? What are you talking about? It’s already been fixed up. The place is thriving now!” He gestured grandly to the building, causing you to give it a doubtful second examination. You weren’t exactly sure what his definition of ‘thriving’ was, but it must be vastly different from yours judging by the flickering neon sign and the walls that desperately needed painting and, quite frankly, looked like they could very well cave in on themselves soon. You gave him a tight smile, but he only rolled his eyes. “Look, it may not look like all those fancy restaurants you’re used to, but I promise, I’m about to introduce you to the best fries and milkshake you have ever tasted in your life. Nothing beats Roy’s cooking.”

After Jungkook had grabbed your hand and practically dragged you inside, you were met with a much different atmosphere than what you were expecting. It was unexpectedly warm and cozy inside, and the loud chatter and laughter coming from all around almost made it feel like you were at a rowdy Thanksgiving dinner. Suddenly almost everyone that had been engrossed in a conversation turned towards the door to see the two of you had arrived. There was a deafening chorus of greetings to Jungkook, mostly from the older folks at the bar and surrounding tables whom Jungkook dragged you over to. Only after Jungkook gave almost each and every one of them a hug, which was much to your surprise, did some of the older women notice you were there. “Oh, Jungkook! You finally got yourself a girl and brought her here to meet us!” one of the women practically shouted as another tried to pinch Jungkook’s cheek while he quickly tried to maneuver away.

Jungkook rubbed at the back of his neck, finally realizing he still held your hand in his own and quickly released his grip, much to your disappointment. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a friend from college, and I brought her here so she could try Roy’s famous food for the first time and change her life forever.”

Several of them chimed in, greeting you after you introduced yourself shyly. Jungkook went to grab a menu for you, and the ladies took it as an opportunity to chat some more with you. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“No, I’m not actually.” You could barely even hear their responses since they all talked over each other, and although you had expected at least some of them to draw conclusions and figure out you were from the other side of town and treat you differently, they all still gave you friendly smiles.

Jungkook came back just in time to save you from more of their questions, thankfully, and brought you up to the counter to order food from the restaurant owner he introduced you to, Roy. You ended up getting a burger with the infamous fries and milkshake Jungkook kept going on about. Over dinner, much of the topic of conversation stayed on you and mostly Jungkook since, as many of his friends implied, he hadn’t visited recently. You ended up loving the atmosphere and how close everyone seemed to be. Even Roy would talk with everyone in between orders, and though you had never met anyone before, everyone was welcoming and open to talk with you. In fact, they were eager to see you and to see that Jungkook “has some friends his own age” as they teased.

You were finally finishing up your milkshake as the sky was just becoming dark, and the restaurant, while still buzzing, had quieted down considerably enough to have a conversation at normal volume. Jungkook had left you sitting at the counter alone while he went to the bathroom, and you couldn’t hold back the smile to yourself thinking about the way he interacted with all these people he seemed to be so close to. You looked up as Roy stood on the other side of the counter from you, cleaning a glass with a towel. “You seem like a great girl. I’m glad Jungkook met someone like you.”

You blushed, expecting him to only make some simple small talk while Jungkook wasn’t around. “Oh… I wouldn’t say it like that.” You laughed nervously, pushing stray hair back out of your face. “We’re only friends. We just talk sometimes.” ‘Sometimes’ was a bit of an understatement you realized, but it seemed most of the people got the impression that you were Jungkook’s girlfriend, which unfortunately wasn’t the case.

“Let me let you in on a little secret. Don’t tell Jungkook I told you this, but he doesn’t bring just anyone here. These people are like his second family, and if he thinks you’re good enough to meet them, then you’re pretty darn special.”

You couldn’t help the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach at the thought. A sudden thought came to you and you bit your lip, wondering if it would be appropriate to ask. You decided it probably wouldn’t hurt, grabbing Roy’s attention once again. “Sorry, you said this is like his second family?” He nodded easily. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s the first?” You questioned carefully, hoping it wasn’t too forward or prying of you to wonder about such things. You knew that Jungkook’s parents were out of the picture, so you tried to imagine who else he would be close with besides the people in this room.

Roy stayed silent for only a moment before both of you saw in the corner the door to the restrooms swing open and Jungkook wiping his hands dampened from the sink on his shirt. As Jungkook made his way back to take the seat next to you, Roy gave a tight smile and a quick nod to hastily end the conversation. Your forehead creased in confusion, wondering why there had so suddenly been something secretive come up. You smiled as Jungkook came and took his seat next to you again, but you couldn’t quite wipe the puzzlement off your face. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook suddenly asked, throwing his arm over your shoulder, which you were sure was only a product of him being just a little bit tipsy.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

After Jungkook had walked you home that night, you were met with a very displeased mother. You did stay out a little late, you admit, but you should have that freedom. You’re a fully functioning adult, yet here you are, getting lectured by your mother. Though it wasn’t all bad, especially since you weren’t paying an ounce of attention. Instead you were thinking about Jungkook walking you home just minutes before. He had a few drinks at the diner, so he was a bit more carefree than he was on a usual basis, so the entire way home, you had the pleasure of feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours and for a moment everything felt so real.

And that’s when you realized there was no turning back. Your hand felt empty now that his wasn’t there anymore and there were too many lingering butterflies to be ignored. Again, maybe this is the result of the tiniest bit of alcohol that you’re hoping desperately your mother doesn’t smell on you right now since you were still technically underage.

The thought of your mother ruined it all though. The warm fuzzy feeling became cold as you remember that as long as she had a say, being with Jungkook was out of the question. You could take one look at him and easily see he was the epitome of a boy your mother would never approve of, with his all black clothes and leather jackets, his pierced ears, his dark yet endearing—at least in your eyes—humor. Your mother would keel over if you ever revealed you had feelings for him.

And this was assuming that Jungkook even felt the same way about you. But there had to be something there, right? You felt like with how you easy it was to talk to each other, and how much Jungkook has opened up to you, not to mention those few tender moments that you two never spoke about, it seemed pretty obvious there was something between the two of you. It couldn’t all just be in your head. Though you were still terrified, you came to the conclusion that you would let Jungkook know exactly what you were thinking and see what happens from there.

Making a decision that you would confess to Jungkook did not make it any easier to actually do it. You had never been the one to make the first move in the past, and Jungkook being the person of interest made it even scarier. Jungkook was coming over to your house so you could help him study for English, and your heart was beating erratically while waiting for the doorbell to ring. You couldn’t sit still and eventually began pacing in the living room, and you weren’t even sure if you were going to tell him today. However, today would be a good day, since your mom isn’t home and home is the best place to do it. If he turns you down, there won’t be any public embarrassment. So basically today is the perfect day to do it. So basically you have to do it. You began to pull at your hair in distress when finally the doorbell rang, and you probably answered it way too fast. As Jungkook greeted you, he smirked as he looked at the top of your head, smoothing down the hair that you must have messed up in your panic, and unfortunately you very obviously flinched away from his hand, playing it off with a nervous chuckle.

You silently led him up to your room, and he could most definitely tell that something was going on, but he didn’t say anything to acknowledge it, much to your relief. You let him into your room and closed the door behind you, taking in a deep breath. Luckily, as soon as you start to talk with each other like any other day, you begin to feel comfortable again and you finally feel relaxed.

After about an hour of studying, you take a break and you begin to wonder if this would be the time to say something. You began to go over the small speech you had rehearsed all morning, but before you could get anything out, you watch as Jungkook pulls off his hoodie, and as he does so, the short sleeve of his shirt on his right arm comes up, revealing a black image displayed on his skin which immediately piques your interest. “Wait, what was that?” you asked, tentatively pushing his sleeve up his shoulder to examine the image you had spotted hidden beneath it.

“Nothing,” he replied uninterestedly, brushing your hand away.

You locked gazes with him, wide eyes on display in an attempt to make him cave in.  “Well, it’s obviously a tattoo,” you reasoned aloud. “Any special reason?” Had you not had the suspicion that came into your mind, you would have let it be.

He quickly shook his head, breaking away from your curious eyes. “It’s just a tattoo. Nothing special about it.”

Your voice was soft now, and your eyes dropped to examine the lines in the wooden floors of your bedroom. “It’s a gang tattoo, isn’t it?” He only stared back, still with no intention of giving any answers. You figured that would be the reason why he was so apprehensive. Had it been any other tattoo, he probably wouldn’t have had any problem. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

He briefly exhaled through his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut before he gave a hasty nod. “I’ve told you before. I got mixed up with some bad people when I was younger, but don’t worry, it’s all in the past now.” You were glad he had gotten past it and hoped he was safe and out of that business now as he said he was.

Your gazes were locked on each other’s for far too long and you suddenly remembered what your original goal was, and you now realized you ruined the mood for that to happen. “I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassured softly. “I would have told you before, but I just didn’t want to scare you off.”

Your mouth curved into a small smile, arms hugging your torso. “You couldn’t scare me away. Don’t you know you’re stuck with me?” you joked. You suddenly realized now was the time. You had everything you wanted to say planned out, but now that it came down to it, you panicked and forgot all of it, so you had to say exactly what was on your mind. “Jungkook, you know you mean a lot to me, right? When I say that, I don’t mean as a friend either. I mean it as more than that, I guess.” You stuttered and slipped over your words and began to trail off in your last statement in nervousness, which became full panic as you observed the smile slip from his face.

“_____...” That was all he said before an agonizing amount of silence and out of all the scenarios you had thought up, this was probably the worst of them all. “You don’t mean that.”

“What? Of course I do,” you insisted, reaching out to him, but he only coiled back out of your reach. “Jungkook…”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He tried to walk away from you, but you grabbed onto his arm. You’d accept it and let him go if he had just rejected you, but you could tell something was wrong.

He shook your grip off and picked up his books and stuffed them into his bag in a hurry. “What is wrong with you?” you questioned desperately at his sudden shutdown. Then it all made sense. “That’s it. You’re shutting down again. You can’t stand it when you have to deal with any sort of real emotion.”

He scoffed, “Don’t try reasoning me out of this. I don’t want anyone to depend on me like that, not even you.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to feel anything?” He stopped and looked up to you from his bag, locking eyes, and you hated how they had suddenly become cold and unfamiliar.

“No, _____, I’m not, and that’s why you should just give up on me. I can’t give you what you want. Go find someone else that’s not gonna hurt you.” You didn’t want to watch him walk away. You had no way of knowing what his true feelings were, but you knew that this wasn’t what he needed. He said he didn’t want anyone to depend on him, but in reality, he was afraid to depend on someone else. He didn’t want to put himself in a position to get left behind again, scarred by memories of his mother who had abandoned him.

All you could do was let him figure things out on his own. If he really did love you, then he would find his way back. All you can hope is that you didn’t just lose one of the best things that had ever happened to you. “Okay, if this is how it is, then I’ll let you go. I can’t keep doing this, Jungkook.”

He was already taking large strides out the door to get away as fast as his feet would carry him. “I know,” was all he said. Then he was gone.

It had been a week since Jungkook walked out on you, and you were beginning to lose hope of seeing him again. You would usually give it a bit more time before you began feeling doubtful, but you hadn’t seen nor heard any sign of him.

You laid pathetically alone on your bed on a Saturday night that you should have used to spend time with friends, but you ended up turning down any plans that were offered. You opened your phone and looked through old messages between you and Jungkook, and you began to type a message to ask him how he was doing, but just before you hit send, you ended up erasing it all and throwing your phone back down. As much of a bummer as it was, you decided to take tonight to go to bed and get some extra sleep.

You had already shut off all your lights and tucked yourself into your warm bed when a sudden, echoing knock came from your window, almost scaring you out of your wits. You quickly stumbled out of bed and turned on the lamp that sat on your nightstand, opening the curtains without hesitation because you already knew exactly who would be waiting behind them.

There you saw Jungkook hugging his jacket closer around him in the chilling night winds. This wasn’t the first time he had come to you through your bedroom window. He had done it several times before when he came over and saw your mother’s car parked in the driveway to avoid having to get through her to see you. You unhooked the latch, hurrying him in as he struggled to climb over the window sill. “_____,” he breathed out through chattering teeth. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face into the hair on top of your head. “I always fuck things up just when they’re starting to go right.”

“It’s okay, Jungkook,” you spoke gently, rubbing his back up and down as he stood still and inhaled your scent for a few moments.

He chuckled breathily. “How can you always forgive me even when I’m such an ass?”

“Because I love you.”

You had pulled away enough so that you could look him in the eyes when you spoke, hopeful that this time it would go right. Jungkook pulled you back to him, mostly so that he could hide his face when he told you, “I love you, too.”

Your mother had dragged you out of the house way too early for a Saturday morning to go shopping with her at all of her favorite designer-brand stores, which was already a shock to you since she hadn’t found time to spend with you in almost four years since she was always so busy with work. Now, out of nowhere, she was having you try on at least a dozen gowns at each stop.

“Okay, mom,” you sighed walking out of the dressing room wearing the last of several dresses she had picked out. “This is the last one.”

She smiled, motioning for you to turn around. “That one looks beautiful, too! Which one did you like the best?”

You turned around, scrutinizing the way the material draped over you in the mirror. “I don’t know. They all look nice.” You turned back to her, finally deciding to question the motive behind her sudden eagerness, hoping it wouldn’t ruin her rarely bright mood. “Why exactly am I looking for a dress?”

She folded her hands in her lap, crossing her legs over each other, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I wasn’t planning on telling you yet, but I’ll be hosting a gala, and I want you to come.” She looked for some kind of reaction from you, but you only continued to listen, smoothing the skirt of the dress you wore. She cleared her throat. “There will be a lot of young men there, soon to be owners of their parents’ companies. You should try to meet some of them.”

You finally looked back to her reflection in the mirror. “I’ve already met plenty of them,” you pointed out, brows creased in thought. “Is this your way of saying you want me to make connections?” you accused, stressing the word “connections” to imply it may have a different meaning. You heard rumors that big business owners would sometimes send their kids to high class social events hopefully form a relationship with another heir to merge the businesses and increase profit, but you didn’t think it was actually something that happened.

“I’m not saying I want you to do it, but you should be open minded to some of the boys you meet there.” She smiled to try to convince you, standing to speak with you at eye level.

“So, what, you want me to charm them with a pretty dress?” you asked. You scrunched your nose, looking down at the dress that you had once thought was pretty, but after staring for too long, you began to hate it.

“And your wonderful personality,” she joked with a playful pat on your cheek, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

You’d met all these heirs to wealthy businesses before, and you knew that they weren’t interested in your personality. They weren’t looking for any sort of relationship, they were either looking for connections or a good time, and when it came to the unfortunate girls at these parties, they were usually stuck with the latter. And as spoiled rich kids, they didn’t like to be told no, which made you even more nervous than you already were.

You walked back into the dressing room, peeling off the itchy material of the dress you had to wear for far too long due to the unexpected news that had been broken to you. When you put back on the t-shirt dress and sneakers you had originally been wearing, you stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You began to think you liked yourself much better this way. You knew Jungkook liked you better this way. You bit back a smile at the thought of him, and it finally occurred to you that your mother didn’t even know that you and Jungkook were officially… whatever you were. You hadn’t really addressed it yet since that night. You did know, however, that you loved each other, but your mother wanted to send you into a room full of men you probably couldn’t trust. You began to wonder about what would happen if you brought Jungkook to the gala with you. Your mother would be furious, but you would feel so much safer. Though, you didn’t even know if Jungkook had any interest in going.

You heard a knock on the door, zoning you back into reality and making you realize you had been staring into the mirror in thought. “Are you ready?” you heard your mother’s voice calling from the other side.

“Coming,” you answered.

Jungkook had come over in the afternoon for what was supposed to be getting help from you for English, but when he actually arrived and you told him to get his books out, he didn’t even have his bookbag with them, so he claimed he “forgot” it. You knew he was lying, though. Jungkook had trouble with being direct. He always had to have some sort of excuse to see you rather than just wanting to spend time with you. You knew he actually cared behind all of this, though, but for now you would just have to learn how to interpret his roundabout methods.

Since he coincidentally didn’t bring his materials to study, he ended up laying down next to you in your place in bed, opting for just talking for a while. Jungkook had been looking around your room that he had practically memorized by now since he’d seen it so often, making it easy to spot any little change. He saw an extra framed picture on your nightstand of you and who he was positive was your father. He pointed it out, “That’s new.”

You looked over your shoulder to follow his line of sight and your eyes landed on the object of interest. “Yeah. I found that in a box a few days ago and decided to frame it and put it up.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t hold up for long as you engrossed yourself in thought.

“What?” Jungkook asked, looking down at you as a frown deepened on your face.

You shook your head. “Nothing.” You looked back at it one last time before turning back to him and grabbing his hand to fiddle with his fingers while admitting slowly, “I can’t even remember what his voice sounds like.”

“Don’t you have any videos where you can hear his voice?”

You nodded faintly. “I’m sure we have some somewhere, but I’d have to go looking for them myself. I don’t wanna bring my mom into it. She gets really upset when he’s brought up.”

“If it means getting to hear his voice, then you should just ask her. She can’t keep it from you, and you can’t let her pretend it never happened.” He was obviously letting his bias towards you affect his solution, but you remember clearly what happens to your mother whenever she hears about him, and although you two didn’t always get along, you would never purposefully do that to her.

Also, to be honest, you were shocked that Jungkook had even said what he had. You barely laughed, lacking humor, “Should I even take that advice from you?”

Jungkook’s lips turned down and his forehead creased. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You had a feeling this was leading into an argument you really weren’t looking to have, especially judging by his already irritable tone of voice. “I mean that you’re a prime example of ignoring the past,” you said as you tried to keep your voice even to remain peaceful without making him upset.

Jungkook sat up in the bed and you sighed, immediately regretting even bringing this up. “How have I ever done that? I fully acknowledge everything that’s happened to me.”

“It’s not that you choose to ignore the past itself, Jungkook, but you ignore the…” you paused to look for the right words as he waited impatiently, “the emotions you should be feeling from it.”

He scoffed, pushing himself off the bed, and he unintentionally rose his voice. “Who are you to tell me how I’m supposed to feel?”

“I’m not saying anything like that, Jungkook!” You began to shout as well, but you stopped yourself to control the volume of your voice, finishing calmly, “I’m just saying it’s okay to be sad.”

Jungkook held your gaze for a moment before shaking his head violently and dropping his eyes to the floor. “I’m not sad,” he spat.

You watched as he evened his breathing, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Alright,” you gave in. “If you say you aren’t sad, then I’ll believe you.” You knew he was lying not only to you, but to himself, but you let it go, not wanting to argue with him anymore. You stood up, brushing his bangs away that hung down in his eyes, pulling him to sit back down next to you on the edge of the bed. You brought a hand to his cheek to lift his face to meet your eyes. “I want to ask you something, and I know it may be asking a lot from you, so feel free to turn me down.”

He waited patiently for what you had to say, and you thought for one moment, still nervous at the prospect of him actually agreeing. “My mom is hosting this gala,” you explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

He squinted his eyes at you, finding it hard to believe you would even ask him about something like that. “You want me to go to a gala with you? That your mom is hosting?” You nod silently in return, though you can easily see where he’s coming from. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“I know it’s not exactly your scene, but, if I’m honest, I’m a little worried about it. My mom wants me to make connections with some of the young heirs there. They’re not the most trustworthy people, though. I just think I would feel a lot better if you were there.” You looked up to him nervously in hopes that he would understand what you were trying to say. With the way his jaw tightened, you were certain he had gotten the point.

He swallowed, placing a comforting hand on your thigh and agreeing softly, “Okay. I’ll be there for you.”

Later that night, you both decided you would go out to eat at Roy’s again because Jungkook was right, that was the best fries and milkshake you had ever tasted. It still made you nervous to go into the more dangerous side of the city, but nothing happened last time, and with Jungkook there, you had nothing to worry about. However, your fears suddenly returned to you when you heard someone from behind you shout, “Jeon!”

Jungkook quickly grabbed onto your hand as you both turned around. They didn’t look threatening when you turned around. In fact, they were around your age and you began to think they may have been friends of Jungkook. The same one who had called out to him spoke again, “Your dad called an emergency meeting. Another gang’s been looking to take some of our territory.”

You froze. You must not have heard that right. You felt Jungkook stiffen beside you, too. “What did he just say?” you mumbled.

Jungkook stared ahead wordlessly, his lips pressed into a thin line. That’s when you knew you heard exactly what you thought you did. Your lip curled up in anger and you shouted, “You lied to me! You’re in a gang!” Your eyes filled to the brim with tears, but you tried not to let them fall. You repeated, “You lied to me, didn’t you?”

Jungkook swallowed, knowing there was no way he could get himself out of this. He let the silence boil in an angry pot for a long while before he found his voice again. “Yeah, I did,” he breathed, nodding slowly.

You turned your face away from him, hesitant to ask what was on the tip of the tongue because you were terrified of what his answer may be. “What’s the name?” you barely choked out, but when he only stuttered as an answer, you screamed at him, “Was it your gang that killed my dad?”

“We’re not like that, _____. He was kicked out as soon as we found out.”

He confirmed exactly what you were afraid of. You knew the emblem you had seen on his shoulder seemed familiar for a reason. You felt sick. You felt betrayed. The tears you had been holding back were now free falling down your face. “You knew? You knew the whole time and you didn’t tell me?” You roughly pushed at his chest, but he barely moved an inch.

He reached out for you before retracting his hand right away. “I didn’t want this to happen.” You didn’t want to hear his excuses. You didn’t even want to see his face right now. You just needed to get away. When you turned on your heel, he called out your name, but you didn’t listen. When he tried to go after you, the men who came to get him held him back and hurried him away. He tried to fight to push past them, but he knew that if he chased after you, you would only hate him even more.

By the time you arrived home, you could barely even stand. You hadn’t even realized how much you were shaking, how violently your sobs had been wracking through you. When you reached the safety of solitude within your bedroom, you leaned on the post of your bed and sunk to the floor, burying your head in your hands. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed like that.

You heard a soft tap at your window and, knowing exactly who it came from, you pretended as if you didn’t hear it. Then Jungkook’s voice came quietly through the closed window, “Please let me in, _____.”

“Go away!” you shouted, not even moving to see his face. He didn’t leave though. Instead he kept tapping, which became impatient knocking, becoming louder and louder. You stood up and walked to the window and the sound finally ceased as he let out a sigh, but instead of unlocking the window like he had expected, you pulled the curtains closed and walked back to sit on your bed, staring emptily at the wall.

You could hear him growl in frustration. “Don’t make me break this goddamn window, _____!” you heard him scream from the other side of the curtains. You only shook your head and tried to ignore him until he left, but you jumped when you heard the crescendo of pounding on the glass, becoming more forceful by the second.

You hurriedly rushed to your feet again to open the curtains, only to be met with Jungkook repeatedly driving his fist into the glass. “You’re insane!” you cried out. You quickly unhooked the latch that kept him locked outside in fear that he would really form a crack in the glass. He immediately pushed through and took your face into his hands, pulling you close. “Get away from me!” You frantically fought, pulling his hands away from you and trying to put distance between you.

He placed his forehead against yours, whispering, “_____, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” You suddenly ran out of energy to continue fighting him, but you still kept a grip on his wrists as his hands still rested on each side of your face. Your sobs didn’t cease, however, and he slowly slid his hands down to wrap around your waist and bring you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head as you reluctantly melted into him in exhaustion. “Please forgive me.”

“Jungkook,” you breathed weakly.

He stopped you quickly, reminding you of a conversation the two of you had in the past. “You’ve said it yourself before. You know that I’m nothing like that man.”

“Of course I know that.” You shook your head before you pulled away from him, but he wouldn’t let you go far enough to where he had to let you go. “I’m angry because you kept this from me. You knew it was something I needed to know, but you kept it to yourself anyway.”

He sighed and he was about to plead for you to forgive him once more, but the vibration of his phone is his pocket brought his words to a halt. You saw that he immediately became worried when he read the caller ID and answered the call without hesitation. You couldn’t make out the words on the other end, but the way his face contorted in worry let you know that it was bad news. He ended the call with a quick affirmative and when he hung up, he looked frantic. “Shit,” he hissed. “There’s an emergency back at home. I’ll come back later tonight, though. We aren’t finished here,” he promised, already making his way back outside.

You woke up the next morning surprised that you had ever been able to fall asleep. You hadn’t even bothered trying to fall asleep the night before since you knew that if Jungkook said he was coming back, then he was coming back. But he never did return, which worried you. You didn’t want to care, but no matter how hard you tried to hate him, the fact that he never actually came back made you think something bad happened, and that scared you. You tried texting him early in the morning, several hours after he had left, but now even after you had slept and woke up again, you still received no response, which was extreme even for him.

Knowing all that you knew about him now, you could only assume the worst, especially since you had heard about the apparent emergency that he had gone to take care of. You rushed to get yourself ready to go out and look for him only to be stopped when you realized you had no idea where you should be looking. Of course your first instinct was his home, but you didn’t actually know where that was. You found it hard to believe you hadn’t realized until now how much you still didn’t know about Jungkook. So, you went to the only place you knew of where you could find any sort of hint of where to find him.

You pushed through the heavy door that led into Roy’s diner, immediately met with several heads whipping your way to get a look at the visitor. Since it was the morning, there were far fewer people than there had been the first time you came, but you saw several familiar faces, including Roy himself. You walked in nervously, feeling a little out of place now that Jungkook wasn’t by your side, which everyone was quick to notice. “Do you know where Jungkook is?” asked one of the older men that he had been talking to during your previous visit.

“That’s the problem,” you sighed. “He left last night saying it was an emergency and I haven’t seen him since. He isn’t answering his phone either.” You shook your head, looking down at your phone one more time, hoping to be proven wrong. The news even made Roy stop what he was doing behind the counter to listen, worrying just like the rest of them. They all shared concerned, knowing glances.

Roy approached you slowly, setting his towel down, explaining, “We heard news early this morning that there was a dispute between gangs.” You waited impatiently for him to continue. You figured that much already. “Jungkook’s father was killed.”

The breath left your lungs and you now understood why he didn’t return. You knew him well enough to know that he must be out there somewhere trying to deal with what he’s feeling, and from what you knew about him, he probably wasn’t coping well. Now you had to make sure he was okay. “Tell me where I might be able to find him.”

They tried to convince you to let someone else look for him and find him knowing he might not be in a good state, but you insisted that you would find him yourself. They gave in finally and mentioned several places he visited frequently, one of them being his home address, which you were thankful they trusted you enough to give to you, and you decided you would start there. You entered the address into your phone for directions since you had no idea how to navigate in this area of the city. Finally, you came to the house that the map had led you to, and it was a house just like any other that you had been passing for the past few minutes. You weren’t sure why you were expecting anything different.

When you carefully knocked on the front door, it creaked open ever so slightly from the little bit of force you gave. You pushed it open just a slight bit more, calling Jungkook’s name, hoping to find him inside. You received no answer though, which prompted you to take a tentative step inside as you pray that you got the right house and you weren’t accidentally walking into a stranger’s home.

Only a few steps in and you heard the crunch of glass underneath your shoe, and you looked down to find a picture that had fallen of the wall and smashed onto the floor. When you took a closer look, you saw a boy with familiar round eyes and you knew you were in the right house. As soon as you rounded the corner, however, you see that the living room and the kitchen had been trashed and torn to shreds, displaying a mess of broken glass and papers and trash scattered across the floors. Suddenly you suspected that the picture by the front door hadn’t fallen by accident.

After you had called out for Jungkook several more times, you concluded he wasn’t in the house. You began to look through your small list of other possible locations while leaving the house and carefully pulling the door shut behind you. You stopped in your tracks just as you reached the bottom stair when you heard a familiar voice, and after you searched, you found just who you had been looking for. Only, you weren’t expecting him to be threateningly pinning someone up against a wall.

You approached quietly, listening for what you hoped would be an explanation. You saw Jungkook had pinned a man by the collar of his shirt to the outside wall of a building in an alleyway just on the other side of the road from his house. “Are you one of them?” he screamed, interrogating the terrified man.

“One of who?” the poor man questioned, fighting Jungkook’s grip, though you were surprised he couldn’t escape given Jungkook only used a single hand.

Jungkook bared his teeth in rage. “The bastards that killed my father!” You approached slowly, calculating the best way to deal with Jungkook while he was in such a fragile state. Though your knowledge about this was limited, you knew for sure that this man had no gang affiliations just by looking at him and how he seemed as if he hadn’t fought once in his entire life. Throwing a beer bottle down, smashing it to pieces that violently scattered causing both you and the man to flinch away, Jungkook cried out, “I promise I’ll obliterate every single one of them!”

You took the chance to lurch forward and firmly take hold of his arm, hoping to bring him down from his rampage. Jungkook’s head snapped to you and the man used this distraction to escape his grip and make a run for it. Jungkook noticed and wanted to push past you and chase after him, but you blocked his path, though he kept fighting to pass you, blinded by rage and, from what you could smell in his breath, intoxication. “Please, Jungkook, calm down! I know your pain, trust me, but this isn’t the right way to handle it! Let me help you!” you tried reasoning with him.

He pushed your hands off of him, backing away. “Who said I wanted your help? Who said I wanted you to force yourself into my life and try to fix everything?” he spat. You shook your head in disbelief. “I’m perfectly fine! What makes you think I need to be saved?”

“Jungkook, I know you don’t mean that.”

“I do!” he shouted. His shoulders heaved and then the tension in his face began to melt. “I…” He spoke more unsurely now. Then he had dropped himself onto his knees, hands pounding into the ground. Worried he was hurt, you slid down beside him only for his arms to wrap tightly around your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck and he began to sob. You were worried and you hurt for him, yet somehow you were also relieved knowing that he was finally able to let go of the idea that he had to always be strong. You soothingly ran your fingers through his hair as you let him stay there for however long he needed. “He’s gone,” he choked out weakly.

Jungkook never told you much about his father. In fact, he said that he didn’t see him much and that they weren’t close. You couldn’t tell if that had been another lie to keep you from knowing the truth or if that had been true and he felt this way purely from the fact that he had lost both of his parents now. Either way, you could tell he was broken. “It’s okay,” you whispered.

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me, _____.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. There you both sat, in the middle of an alley, where Jungkook finally shed what very well could have been his first tear, and you knew that he needed you.

After seeing the state his house was in, you figured it wasn’t the best idea to let him return there alone for fear he might go off the rails again, so you let him come with you. You weren’t sure whether your mother would be home or if she would ever even notice if you kept him up in your room, but you were willing to face whatever she had to say if she were to find out, knowing this was about your only option. You had to support him on the way as he drunkenly stumbled through the streets at midday.

When you finally arrived home with him and led him up to your room, he collapsed in exhaustion on your bed. You looked over him in concern for a moment before sighing as you combed your fingers through his hair. You figured you would get him some water for when he woke up since he had consumed so much alcohol, but when you tried to leave his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back to him. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled. You glanced back at the door, but you ultimately decided to follow his request and stay with him.

You sat down beside where he laid, pulling your wrist out of his grip and sliding your hand into his to hold it comfortingly. You saw a hint of red on his face and squinted to get a better look, but you had to gently nudge his face to get him to turn to you from where he had it buried in the sheets to block out the light. You saw his lip was letting out a fair amount of blood and you began to get up to clean it up, ignoring his groan of protest as you left his side.

You came back with a cold, wet rag to press to his lip to stop the bleeding. You sighed, giving his body a once-over, seeing clearly he was in bad shape, both physically and emotionally. You set the rag aside again after a moment and went back to softly stroking his head. You whispered to him, though you were sure he was too far gone in sleep to listen to you by now, “Please don’t do this to yourself again. Please don’t do something reckless and get hurt.”

To your surprise his eyes barely fluttered open at your words before they closed once again, but he exhaled heavily, assuring you, “I won’t. I promise.”

When you woke up the next morning, the bed had been significantly colder than it had when you went to sleep. As you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you realized it was because Jungkook was no longer there, sleeping beside you with you wrapped in his arms like he had been when you fell asleep. He must have left sometime in the middle of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You weren’t sure of he had completely sobered up yet, so you worried if he had gotten home safely or not. You called him, but he didn’t pick up. Then you texted him to ask where he was, thinking he probably wouldn’t answer that either, but to your surprise, he did. Although, all he said was ‘Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m gonna be busy today.’ You knew something was going on, already, but you were immediately afraid for him when he followed with, ‘I love you.’

That was unlike him. He was possibly the least straightforward person you knew, so he only said that when he felt like he absolutely had to. And you were afraid of why he thought he had to tell you so suddenly.

Before you could barrage him with questions, you heard the bell ring at your front door, so you went to answer, hoping for some reason that it would be him. When you opened the door, it wasn’t Jungkook, but instead it was the man who had called Jungkook for the meeting and ultimately revealed the truth about him. He cleared his throat. “May I come in for a moment?” You hesitantly stepped back, opening the way fully for him to enter. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Namjoon. I’m a member of Jungkook’s gang.” He said quickly, lowering his voice at the last phrase. He seemed to be rushing through the formalities to get to the real reason he had come. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

The question took you by surprise. You had been hoping to ask him the same question, but since he didn’t know either, your nerves were anything but calmed. “No. When I asked him where he was, he texted me saying he was busy and not to worry about it.” You thought for a moment, licking your dried lips. “He sounded off, though.”

Namjoon nodded attentively. “I see. There’s a good chance my suspicions are correct, then,” he speculated, pacing noticeably.

“What suspicions?” You were almost afraid to ask. It was easy to see that Namjoon was tense, so you knew that it couldn’t be good news.

“I think he’s going to try to get revenge for his father.” Your jaw went slack in shock. “I think he wants to kill that gang’s leader.”

“What? What if he gets hurt?”

Namjoon exhaled slowly, rubbing his chin as he spoke, “If that’s the case, he’ll be going up against several members before getting to the leader, so the likelihood is high.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. What was he thinking going up against so many people all on his own? You began to panic. “Well, what are you doing here? Someone needs to go help him or stop him or something!”

Namjoon said with the tap on the screen on his phone, “I’m already on it. I’m sending backup for him right now. I’ll be going too.” He was already taking large strides to the door when he quickly turned back around to you. “Keep the doors locked and don’t answer the door unless either me or Jungkook have told you to,” he warned before shutting the door behind him.

Somehow his warning made you even more nervous. You were sure you had nothing to worry about for yourself since you were far away from where all the action would take place, but it clearly meant that he thought these people were dangerous. And Jungkook was going to face them all alone. You just hoped that his backup got there fast enough.

You had been trying to shake the thoughts out of your head for far too long until you began to feel cramped within the walls of your own home. Though you were aware of Namjoon’s advice, you decided to walk for a bit to clear your head and to get some fresh air. Surely no one wanting to hurt you would be brave enough to cross the river to the highly-secured side of the city. You had been wandering for a while, not paying much attention to where exactly you were going and instead following wherever your feet carried you as you watched the petals fall from the cherry blossoms in order to distract yourself.

Eventually you found yourself stopping just before the bridge. Just a few more steps and you could be crossing over to get Jungkook out of his mess once again, but he said it himself. It wasn’t up to you to save him. He’s going to be okay, you assured yourself. With eyes still glued to the opposite end of the bridge, you turned around to walk back home.

As you began the walk back home, you thought you saw a shadow of someone behind you, but when you turned no one had been there. You were sure it was only your imagination, but now you were starting to wish you had stayed at home as your nerves began to act up. You took up a quicker pace, finally deciding you were safe after you were walking with no interruption for a few minutes. Just as you were calming down, you jumped as the ringer of your phone blared in the thick silence of the streets. You breathed in relief as you brought it out of your pocket and read your mother’s name displayed on the screen.

“Hello?” you answered. She was asking where you were since you had told her you would be home for dinner with her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m coming home right n—” Your words were smothered by the gloved hand that latched itself over your mouth. You tried to tug yourself free and cry out for help, but your arms were only swatted away and your phone tumbled to the ground still on call with your mother. You frantically swung your feet in attempts to escape, but they were swept out from under you and you fell to the ground, your head hitting the pavement and darkening your vision until you lost consciousness.

Your head was pounding when you finally gained some awareness again. You could tell there were voices around you, but they were difficult to discern since your groggy state made everything sound muffled as if you were underwater, with the way it was muddled in your brain. It took a while to finally come to, but when you did, you could finally make out one of the voices as the very one you had been waiting for. When your eyes came into focus, you could make out Jungkook standing across a large room from you, pointing his gun at something to your right. You tried to turn your head to look despite the shooting pain in your neck from how you head hung down unnaturally. Your eyes met an unfamiliar man, also holding his own gun, but instead of pointing it back at Jungkook, it was directed at you. You tried to moved, but your limbs were bound to the chair you sat in.

You gulped, realizing the situation, most of your mind’s fogginess disappearing. “Look who’s finally decided to join us,” he observed, smiling sinisterly in your direction.

Jungkook briefly met your panicked eyes, but he diverted back to the man keeping a stone cold expression. “How did you find her?”

“You’re very reckless. How do you expect to take your father’s place?” At that remark, Jungkook’s grip tightened on his pistol and bared his teeth in anger. His finger twitched on the trigger and he was going to give in, but when the gun in the man’s hand was pushed closer to your temple, he brought the gun back down slightly in order to stop him from hurting you. The older man only chuckled. “You had such great potential to become a cold-blooded killer, an unstoppable machine, but instead you hold yourself back with these distractions.” The man tilted his head in indication of you as said “distraction.”

“The only person I’m looking to kill is you.”

“Are you sure you want to say that to me right now?” he asked, teeth bared and all easiness void from his tone. The mouth of the gun was now pushed harshly into your temple and you squeezed your eyes shut with a sharp intake of breath. Only a moment later, though, you no longer felt its the cold metal on your skin and you saw he had lowered it out of the corner of your eye. His face took on another chilling smirk. “You know, I could go ahead and kill her now… but then again, she would make an awfully pretty prize.”

Jungkook was fuming and, raising the gun once more and taking a risky step forward, he growled, “Don’t fucking touch her!” The man only stared back at him daringly, analyzing his every movement, the way his feet faltered in their placement on the ground, his hand just barely shook as he held out his gun. There was no way he would risk anything as long as you were in danger.

Suddenly there was a faint shuffle somewhere within the walls of the large warehouse you were held in and everything went silent as everyone went on alert, listening carefully. Suddenly, you flinched and your heart beat erratically as a gunshot ran through your ears, and it took a moment of panic to realize it hadn’t been directed at you. You turned to the side, seeing the man had dropped his gun and grabbed onto his arm in pain. His groan of pain was cut short by yet another bullet lodging into his thigh, causing his leg to give out on him and he fell to the ground.

Then a crowd of men came from the direction of the bullets, led by Namjoon who had been placing a handgun back into his waistband. Jungkook ran over to you to free you from the ropes that held you down, pulling out a switchblade from his pocket and cutting you free. When all of the ropes around you fell loosely to the floor you wrapped your arms around him, feeling his heart beating rapidly. He pulled away and his eyes travelled to your forehead. He carefully reached out to touch it and when his fingers barely brushed your skin, a pain shot through your skull. You brought your own hand up and felt what must have been dried blood. You hadn't even realized that had been there, but you deduced it must have been from when you fell to the ground during your kidnapping.

Jungkook lifted you out of the chair hastily with Namjoon by his side when commotion broke out in the back of the building. More men poured in from where Namjoon and the others had come, but they had their guns pointed at Jungkook’s men. Your feet slowed in their movements as you realized they were going to fight the men who had come to save you. Jungkook tugged you ahead and consoled you, telling you they would be fine, gesturing to the reinforcements coming in once Namjoon opened the front doors. As they passed by Jungkook, you figured they must be on his side. Taking once more glance back, you saw the other men retreating and dropping their guns as the soon realized they were far outnumbered and you briefly glanced at the leader who was still shuffling on the ground with his wounded leg. Jungkook had seen this, too, as he picked up his speed with you right beside him. You heard a gunshot go off and Jungkook roughly pushed you out the door. When you looked back inside as the three of you had finally reached safety outside, you saw no one else who had been injured, so you assumed everyone was safe.

You breathed heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off and your head began pounding because of your injury. You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally caught your breath, believing  the three of you had successfully reached safety, but you were quickly brought back to panic as Jungkook roughly leaned into the wall and let himself slide down to the ground, clutching his side. He hissed, lifting his hand and finding it stained crimson. You gasped and slid down next to him, Namjoon crouching beside you and examining the wound. You had been wrong when you thought that the gunshot had missed its target. No, it had hit exactly who it was aimed at, and that was Jungkook. A few men who had been in one of the many black vans parked outside the building came running over, carefully lifting Jungkook up from the ground and placing him in the back of the the van they had come from with a man with medical supplies waiting inside.

You followed behind them and stepped into the van when they set Jungkook down, not bothering to stop and wonder if they would even let you, but they did. The man grabbed scissors out of the case and cut open Jungkook’s shirt, blood seeping through the white material at an alarming rate. HIs shirt was pulled back to reveal the ragged gash in his side, and you had to look away. You found his hand in yours, however, and he squeezed it tight which felt like reassurance to you, but it was most likely because of the pain.

After a while of you silently staring out the window and Jungkook every so often hissing in pain, the bullet was removed and his torso was wrapped in a bandage. You finally looked back at him, relieved to see the job looked to be well done. Jungkook tried to readjust himself into a sitting position but immediately regretted it, groaning lowly and letting himself back down to lay where he had been before. You brushed your fingertips over the back of his hand and sighed as you watched his brows twitch.

Your head whipped towards the doors as Namjoon swung them open and climbed inside the back, sitting on the opposite side of Jungkook’s legs. He looked down at him with a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes hardened as they were suddenly directed at you, and the unpleasant frown took full form when he met your eyes. “I told you to stay inside!” Namjoon scolded. “That was all you had to do, but then you just had to get yourself caught.”

Jungkook, who still looked fairly worn out, did not miss Namjoon’s comment. “What?” he questioned, looking at you, and under his stare you couldn’t keep guilt from bubbling up to the surface. “You knew what going on and you still put yourself in danger?” Your lips pressed together in a tight line. His voice that was still weak, but you could tell he was trying to raise it.

You huffed, retorting, “What was I supposed to do? You had me so worried! Jungkook, you told me just last night that you wouldn’t do something reckless and get yourself killed! Then I found out you were going on some crazy revenge mission. You lied to me! Again! How long are you going to keep this up, Jungkook?”

“I’ll keep it up however long it takes! Be honest, _____. If I had told you what you wanted to know, would that have changed anything? No! You still would have done something stupid!” His fists had tightened and the veins in his arms protruded.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“Because you almost got yourself killed, that’s why!” His hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, not enough to be painful, but it held you securely. His hands shook and you just now realized how fearful his face appeared. His voice lost its momentum and lowered to just above a whisper, “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you today. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You could only swallow at his words, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand that was still clasped onto your own. He sighed, defeated and resigning, “I know I shouldn’t have lied. I’m sorry.”

“But that’s the thing. You keep doing it. You keep lying because you think you have to, but you don’t! Please don’t lie to me anymore. There’s nothing you have to hide from me anymore.” He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

That was the last of what you said to him. He couldn’t promise you that the lies would stop. You weren’t sure if that meant he still didn’t trust you or that you couldn’t trust him. You were in too deep for that, though. It’s not easy to give your heart away to someone without trusting them with your life. You tried to relieve your thoughts plaguing your mind through a deep heave of a sigh as you quietly closed the front door behind you. Your mother came running to the door at the sound. You thought she’d be at work.

She pulled you into a crushing hug before pulling away and inspecting the bandage that had been put on your head and interrogating, “Why did you disappear all of a sudden? And what happened to your head?”

You pulled her hands away. “Mom, I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“No, _____, you have to tell me what happened. I heard that over the phone! You can’t tell me nothing happened!” she rambled frantically, cutting you off once again before you could even anwer her. “I was so worried, you know that! I even sent the police out to look for you! Can you imagine how scared I was when they brought back your cell phone they found lying in the street, but they said there was no sign of you anywhere around it?” She slammed your phone down on the kitchen table without breaking eye contact with you. You could see her eyes become shiny.

You looked away and hesitated to give her an answer. “There were some problems… But I swear I’m alright. Jungkook—”

“I knew it!” she burst out. “I knew this had something to do with him! I’ve always known being around him would put you in danger!” You tried to speak up in his defense but she stopped you with a motion of her hand. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked since your father’s been gone to keep us at the top? I only want to give you the life you want, but you’re ready to throw your life away for some low life boy off the streets!”

You screamed back in retaliation, “Don’t say that about him!” She gave you that look that she always does when you raise your voice at her, but this time instead of cowering away, you used her stunned silence to say what you’d wanted to say for far too long. “Do you really think I care about the money? I couldn’t care less if I didn’t have this big house or these expensive clothes! I just want my mom back.” She was still silent to your surprise and the tension between her angry eyebrow faltered only slightly.

Her voice was much more level now as she turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him.” She made her way out of the kitchen, only stopping once more in the doorway, looking over her shoulder. “Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

Your shoulders slumped with your labored sigh as you watched her retreating back. You didn’t miss her trembling lip. You supposed you never thought too hard on the emotional toll that encumbered your mother throughout this situation. In no way was she innocent, but you, too,  were far from being in the right. Maybe you had been the selfish one all along, you thought, making your way up the stairs to your bedroom with guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. You found the dress you had finally decided on for the gala laid out on your bed. You rubbed the soft fabric between the pads of your fingers in thought. What were you thinking, asking Jungkook to come to the gala with you? Neither him nor your mother wanted that. It was only what you wanted.

You picked up your phone and quickly called his number without another thought. After several rings too many, the line on the other end connected. “_____?” he answered, his voice sounded gruff and exhausted.

“You weren’t asleep were you?” you worried. He made a small grunt which you were sure was supposed to mean no, but you knew it wasn’t true. He needed to rest to heal, after all. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing alright... Better.”

“That’s good,” you said, trying to make your way into the subject you had called about. “Listen, you probably forgot about it by now...”

“The gala’s on Saturday. I know. I promise I’ll be there, don’t worry.”

“Actually, I was going to say that you probably shouldn’t go.” You gnawed at your bottom lip, waiting, as it was suddenly silent on his end.

“Why?” he finally asked, sounding more aware and perturbed than you would have expected.

“Well, you need to heal. It would just be better if you didn’t go.”

“I’ve healed in less than a week before. I’ll be fine.” You didn’t say anything. He was suddenly so determined to go with you after you practically had to beg him when you first told him about it. “Why don’t you want me to go?” You could hear the frown on his face. You couldn’t understand why he was getting so upset.

You gave a weak chuckle in hopes to lighten the mood. “Why do you want to go so badly all of a sudden?”

He ignored your question. “Did your mom say something?” You clicked your tongue in response, but he knew you well enough to know that meant that you didn’t want to answer the question. He chuckled dryly. “Are you serious? I thought you weren’t gonna let your mom stop you from doing what you want from now on.”

“I know, but this is… different,” you found yourself whispering into the phone. It suddenly felt like you were talking behind your mother’s back.

“Oh, then what is it? Is it because you’re too embarrassed to be seen with me by all the rich heirs?” He now carried an accusatory tone. He always had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions.

“Of course not! You’re being ridiculous!”

“Then why don’t you want me to go?”

“I’ve just... been insensitive to my mom. I just don’t think it’s the best idea.”

“Insensitive to her? Have you forgotten how wonderfully she treated me?”

You’d had it then, groaning as you hung up the call. You threw your phone down on the bed and went to get changed in the bathroom. You heard your phone vibrate from its place on the bed and you could just barely make out Jungkook’s name across the top of the screen, but you didn’t make a move to answer it. It took three more missed calls until he finally gave up.

It was a petty, stupid fight, and yet it was Saturday and you hadn’t heard from him since your last phone call. You tried to tell yourself you were just giving him time to rest and recover, but in reality, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You wondered if he regretted it as much as you did.

The nerves fluttering in your stomach as you thought about the gala you were getting ready for made you begin to regret telling Jungkook not to go with you. You lightly brushed your fingers through your styled hair and took one last look in the mirror, scrutinizing the way the dress hung on your body. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as it had seemed before. It looked duller and you wished the skirt wasn’t so plain and lifeless. You weren’t sure what you had seen in it in the first place. You heard your mother call for you from the first floor, and on your way down you checked your phone one last time, but you still saw no notifications with Jungkook’s name on them.

You followed your mother into the limousine that drove you to the venue the gala would take place in, watching as you drove by the entrance to the bridge, wondering what Jungkook was doing on the other side. The rushing waters of the river seemed wider than ever.

You arrived at the gala much faster than you had hoped and found that many guests had already arrived. You walked in beside your mother, receiving several greetings and warm smiles, some looking more genuine than others. You made your rounds for a while, chatting with some of the other heiresses your age that you had known for years because of events just like these.

Eventually the crowd started to loosen up and the gala became more of a social gathering than a business meeting as most of the guests had already gone through a few glasses of wine. You chose to opt out of having any alcohol, though part of you wanted nothing more than to get drunk so the night would go by faster. After you finally got a break from conversation, you excused yourself and went down the hallway to the bathroom where it was much quieter and less crowded. You tried to pass by a man that you barely paid any mind to, but he reached out for your arm to grab your attention. “_____?” You turned and found that the face of the man that said your name was one that you were sure you had seen before, yet you couldn’t put a name to the face. “I’ve been looking around for you all night!”

You returned his charming grin with a polite nod of your head. “Oh yeah! I was wondering if I would see you tonight.” You were lying through your teeth and you were hoping it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit since I saw you last,” he said, looking you up and down. You chuckled nervously as his eyes lingered just a hair too long, especially now that you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath after he had taken a step closer to you. “You know, we’re both set up to take over pretty powerful companies. I think we should try to get to know each other more—”

You frowned stepping back to regain your preferred personal space. “I’m sorry. That’s not something I’m looking for.”

You began to walk away, but his loud, gruff voice followed you, “You really shouldn’t cut someone off when they’re speaking! I think you should show me a little bit more respect!” He glared at you, clearly waiting for something, though you weren’t sure if what he wanted was an apology or just for you to say yes to him.

“And I think you’ve had too much to drink and that you’re a self-entitled prick,” you retorted. “I think you should get back to the party and leave me alone.”

He growled as you brushed past him, and he started to pursue you, but he was stopped short by a voice coming from behind both of you. “Hey. You heard her, man. Get out of here,” the voice ordered. You turned around to find Jungkook dressed in a suit and tie and with a flower in hand. The man only observed him incredulously until Jungkook sneered at him, making him finally give up and leaving only the two of you in the hallway. Jungkook’s glare finally softened once his eyes that had been watching intently as the man left found their way to your own. You hurried over to him, wrapping him in a hug and releasing a breath you weren’t aware you had been holding. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “This is exactly why I wanted to come and I still let this happen. I didn’t want you to have to deal with guys like that.”

You stopped him, shaking your head to assure him you were fine. “No, no. I don’t even care about that. I’m just glad to see you again.” Your eyes trailed down to observe the black suit he wore, admiring how good he looked, but also chuckling at how out of character he looked. You weren’t complaining, though. Your gaze travelled to the flower he held in his hand and a grin spread across your face. “What’s this?”

You could see his cheeks slightly tint while he tried to explain himself. “It’s just an… apology, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, holding the flower out for your to take. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad about something so stupid. I promised I’d be here and I wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You twirled the stem between your fingers. You grabbed his hand again and pulled him along with you. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this party.” You rounded the corner only to be met with your mother, skidding to a stop to prevent from colliding into her. “Mom.”

She sighed, and you were afraid you were going to have to face another lecture, but she surprised you by pulling you into her arms. “I heard someone raise their voice, and then I heard you… I got so worried.” She let you go and turned her eyes to Jungkook, looking upon him for the first time without contempt. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently after hearing how _____ talks about you. So I want to say thank you, Jungkook, for being there for her. I know there’s nothing i can say or do to make up for what I’ve said about you in the past, but I can tell that you love my daughter, and that’s all I want for her. I’m sorry for how horrible I’ve been to you.”

You looked between him and your mother. Jungkook’s words faltered for a moment, but eventually he just said simply, “Of course. I’ll always be here for her.”

Your mother gave a soft smile. She shook her head. “Don’t let me stop you. Go ahead and go. You’ve been here long enough,” she insisted, directing the last part to you. You smiled brightly and thanked her and the two of you headed out.

You two ended up sitting back in your usual seats at the counter at Roy’s. It didn’t exactly get you away from a rowdy, loud scene, but it was comfortable. You two were still in your clothes for the gala, so the old diners were teasing the both of you, saying you looked like you could get married right then and there. You were embarrassed, but you were also proud of how far the two of you had come. You were still by no means perfect. You two were a mess. A beautiful mess. The kind of mess that isn’t burdensome, that you don’t want to clean up because in it are beautiful memories of a time when all is perfect, like old family picnics with cream covered pies and messy little children who impatiently dig right in. “We’re kind of like a pie,” you looked up at Jungkook from where your head laid on his shoulder.

“What are you saying?” he broke out into laughter. The way his eyes crinkled in the corners and his nose scrunched up, it was beautiful.

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking.” You looked around. The neon lights that shone on the jukebox. The perfectly shaped swirl of whipped cream atop your shared milkshake topped off with a bright red cherry. The old couple sitting in a booth on the other side of the diner. It was all so beautiful. You’d never seen so clearly in your life up until this moment.

[bush-viper-cutie]

“A Hippogriff Nibble” || YEAR 3 – Ch.10 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

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Day posted: 8/11/2020

Word count: 4,252

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather looked at her unopened package from Hagrid sitting on her bed. Every time she tried to undo the brown paper, it growled. She sighed and reached for her wand, slowly poking the book into her opened bag and closing it tight. She supposed Hagrid would tell them how to handle it when they got to his class.

Pansy was still struggling on the floor, trying to get her book out of her trunk. For a split second she thought about helping her out, but quickly shook that thought away. Pansy would probably make it angry and bait it with one of Heather’s fingers. She looked down at her hand and thought she’d very much like to keep all her digits and walked out the door – ignoring the glare Pansy gave her. Draco was exiting his dorm too, with Crabbe and Goyle by his sides like always.

She stood in his way. “Can we please talk about Quidditch. I heard Marcus saying he’d hold tryouts soon!” Heather couldn’t stop thinking about Quidditch all morning. It was only the second day of classes but she knew Marcus would hold them without telling them. And it wasn’t like Draco was irreplaceable, so she doubted he’d get a heads up either.

“Oh alright.” Draco led them out of the common room, walking fast like always so that everyone else had to speed to catch up to him. It didn’t help that he grew a good amount over the summer and a bit more after she left his house and now had very long legs.

“You know he’s probably also looking for a new Seeker. We have to find out when tryouts are.” She didn’t know how she’d beat Cassius or Graham but finding out the tryout time was at least step one. Maybe she should take a page out of the twin’s books and put one of them to sleep like they did Crabbe and Goyle.

“I’ll find out, but I doubt I’ll be able to do much to bribe him this time.” Draco stopped them a minute to think. They were a corner away from turning into the corridor that lead to the entrance hall.

“Why can’t your dad do something about it?” Crabbe matched Draco’s pose, scratching his chin as well.

Heather smiled, “Are the new brooms too expensive? For a MALFOY?”

“Shut it, Potter.” He gave her a harsh scowl, matching his father’s so well from last year.

She rolled her eyes, “I just thought you were always saying he could do anything for you.” She shrugged and started turning the corner.

“He can!” He crossed his arms and huffed. “If you find out about Quidditch… let me know.”

She nodded and left him to pout with his friends. She shouldn’t have poked his buttons, but it wasn’t every day she saw Draco having to deal with problems all on his own without his father hovering over his shoulder to save the day. At least he’s now worrying about Quidditch like he should.

She crossed the entrance hall and headed into the great hall to meet Harry, Hermione, and Ron for breakfast. She saw Hermione happily engaging with Ron which was a good sign. She sat down and picked up a cup, tipping it into her mouth and waiting for the cup to fill on its own before pouring into her mouth.

“Could you manage it open?” Hermione sighed, frustrated. “I tried feeding it and – ”

“What do books even eat?” Ron wiped his hands on his robes.

Hermione passed him a napkin. “Oh, I don’t know. I just had to try SOMETHING.”

Heather shrugged. “I haven’t even opened mine yet. We opened Harry’s and it nearly ate our toes.”

“Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for Hagrid’s first lesson.”

“Professor Hagrid, Harry. He’s a teacher now.”

Harry nodded, half paying attention to Hermione and led them out of the castle into the grounds. They walked down the hill and Harry nudged Heather, pointing ahead at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

“Did you know they’d be in our class? I was hoping we didn’t have any with them.”

“No, I didn’t know. They must have picked this class then.”

Ron made some sort of disgruntled noise. “Since when would Malfoy even care about magical creatures? Let alone actually CARE for them.”

“You don’t know that…” Heather wasn’t sure if this was a Slytherin thing again. For some reason half the school thought they all hated very normal things. One of the Ravenclaws from last year herbology was genuinely surprised she could keep one of their plants alive during the nursery unit, like she was some sort of actual cold blooded snake… then again they also thought she had been the heir.

Hermione gave a small laugh, “It’s nothing against Slytherins… But come on… Draco caring for anything other than his broom?”

They all had a point. Draco and his goons laughed loud up in front of them and turned back, noticing Harry. Draco fainted onto Goyle and a few other students around them chuckled. She turned to Harry and rolled her eyes, trying to distract him from them.

Hagrid was waiting for everyone outside his hut and beamed happily as more students gathered around him. Heather could tell how nervous he was. He almost tripped on his own feet down his two steps but brushed it off with a cough. He was wearing his very furry vest again with his hair gelled down a bit. Even Fang looked a bit more groomed even if he had dried leaves stuck to his hind legs.

“Welcome! Gather ‘round right over here.” He motioned for them all to stand by the pumpkin patch. “This’ll be a great lesson, everyone! Come on now.” He stood awkwardly as the last students rushed to join the crowd. Once everyone arrived he started again. “Alright, follow me.”

He headed towards the forbidden forest and everyone started whispering, all clearly worried. Ron started trailing further behind and Hermione had to pull him with them by his bag’s strap. They got to the woods line and followed it along until it opened up into they reached a neat little paddock. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

They stood by the fence while Hagrid stepped over it and stood in the center. “Now. Make sure yeh can all see. ‘Nough room for everyone… Open yer books to page – ”

“And how do we do that?” Draco’s irritated voice carried from the back.

Hagrid looked puzzled.

Draco pushed students aside and leaned against the fence. “How do we open. The books.” His tone was cold and condescending, making a few of his Slytherin friends laugh.

Everyone took out their books and looked over at Hagrid. He started fidgeting on the spot and nodding.

“Righ’. Well yeh just stroke the spine there.” He walked over and took Harry’s book that had been belted shut and ran his finger over the book’s fuzzy spine until it stopped moving.

Heather unwrapped her book and quickly ran her hand against its spine and saw it quiet down completely. It could have been a normal book if it weren’t for the eyes still following her around. Everyone else followed Hagrid’s lead and quieted their books down.

“Obviously, you stroke them.” Draco was imitating Hagrid’s deep voice to his friend and they laughed.

Hagrid’s small remaining smile dropped and he looked over at Heather and them. “I thought maybe everyone would have a laugh.”

Draco heard and sat on the fence, happy to be getting on the nerves of a professor. “Oh I’m sure we were all laughing our arses off trying to avoid being bitten.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Harry faced him.

Draco grinned but stayed silent, probably thinking he’d still not want to push Hagrid too much. He did still have the power to take away house points and give out detentions.

“Well now that yeh’ve got yer books… I’ll go… get the magical creature.” Hagrid wiped his forehead on his sleeve and left them, disappearing into the forest.

Draco hopped down and leaned on the inside of the fence, kicking a pinecone. “Dumbledore’s really letting this place go to the rats, isn’t he?”

No one spoke but it was hard to ignore him as he voiced his opinions so loud. Heather could tell that the Hufflepuffs who had never had any classes with a single Slytherin until this year were uncomfortable. Several Slytherins laughed.

“Dumbledore really couldn’t find a teacher for taking care of wizard pets? What makes this oaf even qualified?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “When my father hears about this he’ll – ”

Harry hopped over the fence as well. “Shut up Malfoy. No one wants to hear you.”

“Harry!” Heather whispered urgently, motioning for him to come back.

Draco looked around and smirked. “Careful Potter! Dementors behind you! Quick someone catch him!”

This time more than just the Slytherins laughed, making Harry’s cheeks turn red. Heather sighed, knowing how horrible Harry must be feeling being the center of negative attention again. Ron and Hermione looked just as irritated knowing they couldn’t help Harry out either.

“OOOOH! Look there!”

A Gryffindor girl pointed behind Harry at the dozens of peculiar creatures hopping the fence into the circle. Draco scrambled to get out and Harry nearly tripped backing up. Ron pulled him over the fence quickly as if any one of those things could bite at them at any second.

The creatures looked mainly like horses, if horses had feathers, and had the head, wings, and front legs of giant eagles. They were grey and white with bits of black that tipped the feathers making them look incredibly majestic. Their sharp beak and claws were solid grey and shiny smooth like steel. If she could pick her favorite part about these creatures, I’d be their brilliant orange piercing eyes. Her eyes trailed down to the giant talons the size of kitchen knives – possibly the reason they all wore leather collars and chains for a leash that Hagrid held as they settled. Their heads all bobbed from side to side as they eyed the group of students.

Hagrid tethered them to the fence and walked back to the center. “I’d like to introduce to yeh all… Hippogriffs!” Everyone was silent, eyeing these giant creatures carefully. Hagrid looked like he was expecting more of a cheer than silence and stood there for a minute before clearing his throat. “How many of yeh have seen one before?”

Heather looked around and saw only one hand come up from one of the few Ravenclaws.

Hagrid nodded. “Good. Good. Well, firs’ thing to note is that they’re extremely proud creatures. Very dangerous to insult and very easy too. They’re very sensitive and offend too easily. So don’t never insult one.”

Harry nudged Heather’s arm and jerked his chin towards where Draco stood, whispering to Crabbe and Goyle. They were all snickering and looking over at the Hippogriffs. Her anxiety rose, both for Hagrid and for Draco. If he got hurt he’d miss the tryouts and her own chances would be ruined.

“I swear if he ruins Hagrid’s first lesson…” Harry shook his head.

“Right behind you if you’re planning what I’m thinking,” Ron nodded.

Hermione scoffed, “Will you two please focus instead of thinking of ways to get into trouble?”

Heather kept her eyes on him, getting more and more worried as he missed all the important safety information Hagrid was telling them about.

“Firs’ yeh bow. If he bows back, yeh’re good to touch him – SLOWLY at first. If the hippogriff doesn’t bow…” Hagrid looked at everyone carefully, “Yeh best be backing away if yeh don’t want to shake hands with their claws.”

Everyone stared at the creatures who were staring back, taking in the information Hagrid had just handed them. Everyone was thinking what Heather was thinking… Were they going to ride them? She didn’t want to ride one. They were giant and had wings and giant sharp talons gripping the ground. The last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere near one and the second last thing she wanted to do was watch any of her friends on one.

“Who wants to go first?” Hagrid clapped his hands and looked around.

Heather stepped back thinking she would bump into Hermione or Ron. She looked behind her and saw everyone else was also stepping back.

“Harry! Good man.”

Heather turned back and met Harry’s eyes as he spun around behind him. Harry hadn’t backed away with everyone else. They exchanged wide eyes but there wasn’t anything they could do unless they wanted Hagrid’s feelings hurt. She watch Harry nod at Hagrid and step forward slowly.

“Harry what about your tea leaves!” A Gyrffindor girl called from behind.

Hermione snorted but Heather could tell Harry WAS thinking of his tea leaves. He looked at them pleadingly but continued towards the center to meet Hagrid.

“Harry, meet Buckbeak. Buckbeak, Harry.” A hippogriff came forward and blew out his nostrils like a long sigh of acknowledgment. Hagrid smiled. “He seems eager.”

Everyone gasped when Hagrid undid the hippogriffs chains and let it fall to the ground. He lured the hippogriff closer to Harry but it stopped halfway, looking very concerned at the stranger before him.

“Don’t blink, Harry. Hippogriffs don’t trust people who blink to much.” Hagrid pushed Harry closer a bit.

Heather’s hands came up to cover her eyes, splitting just enough to let her watch Harry bow. She stared down at the giant claws and saw one lift and curl inward as the hippogriff bowed. She heard Hermione sigh relieved and others cheering quietly.

“Pat his beak, Harry. He’s accepted your company!”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he made slow moves as he reached out to pet his beak and head, making his way around to the hippogriff’s fluffy neck.

“I want to pet him!” More students were getting excited and calling out for their turn at the creature.

Heather relaxed and watched Buckbeak close his eyes as Harry scratched him where Hedwig always likes to be scratched. She breathed in and thought about maybe having a turn at petting one too.

“Alright, let’s try getting yeh on ‘im.” Hagrid picked Harry up before he could reply and tossed him onto Buckbeak’s back. “Don’t pull any feathers out!” He smacked the hippogriff’s behind.

“Oh no.” Heather gasped as Buckbeak squawked and spread his massive wings and kicked into the air with his muscly hind legs.

Harry gripped on tight as Buckbeak jumped into the air and started flying high above the treetops. She watched him open mouthed until he disappeared from sight. She met Hermione’s eyes and stood quietly with everyone else waiting for Harry to come back, but he didn’t.

“He’s coming back… right?” Ron squeaked and Hagrid laughed, pointing up to the left.

Everyone watched carefully and after five minutes saw Buckbeak making his way back, diving and landing roughly. Harry slid off and fell.

“How was it?” Hagrid picked Harry up off the ground.

Harry dusted himself off. “It was amazing.”

Everyone cheered loudly and more people raised their hands to go next. As Harry made his way back everyone patted his shoulder and congratulated him on being brave.

“It was actually fun,” he assured Heather.

“I’m still not going to ride one if it’ll take off. I might pet one.” She looked back towards the hippogriffs and saw Draco making his way to the center.

Hagrid let another loose and didn’t realize Draco had made his was closer until the hippogriffs all screeched and jutted their long necks forward as if to try and intimidate him with warning bites.

“I want Buckbeak.” He rolled up his shirt and crossed his arms expectantly.

Hagrid nodded and motioned him back as he led Buckbeak away from the herd. “Alrigh’. Easy there.”

Heather’s anxiety was very high again as Malfoy bowed, but to her – and most other’s – amazement Buckbeak bowed back. Draco strutted forward and started petting his beak and feathers.

“This is easy.” He looked back at Harry. “If Potter can do it then obviously anyone could.”

Heather hoped very hard that he was thinking through his words very carefully. Most of the Slytherins were cheering him on and he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the giant dangerous creature he was petting.

“You’re not dangerous. Are you? You’re just a big giant pigeon, aren’t you?” he laughed.

Hagrid’s grin dropped. Within seconds Buckbeak had turned on him, opening his beak just barely and taking a quick bite of the arm petting his head. Draco stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm, and screamed very loud, spooking the other hippogriffs. Hagrid had distracted Buckbeak with a snack and slid the collar back on, chaining him with the others.

He turned to the wailing Draco, curled on the ground. “Now. Now. It was only a nibble. Let me see.”

Draco let out more cries, “I’m dying! The beast got me! I’m bleeding out!”

Ron and Harry chortled beside Heather. She got on her toes to see how bad his arm was, spotting the dripping blood coming out in a stream down his arm onto his white shirt. She walked over to where Draco had dropped his sweater and met Hagrid as he scooped Draco up.

“Here, put some pressure on it?” She handed it to Draco who ripped it out of her hands.

“It ain’t that bad. Just a normal cut,” Hagrid made his way over the fence.

Crabbe and Goyle followed behind Heather who was having a harder time keeping pace with Hagrid.

“He’ll still be able to play Quidditch, right?”

“I’ll never play again! My arm’ll get cut off! It’s a mangled mess!” Draco screamed in pain.

“It’s a small but deep cut, Malfoy,” Hagrid laughed nervously.

“We’ll see if that’s what my Father thinks!” Draco spat back.

Crabbe and Goyle continued on and Heather ran back to the class.

Ron immediately rounded on her, “Why were you so concerned with MALFOY.”

“He’s our Seeker! Whether I like him or not the Slytherin Quidditch team needs him.” She frowned at him until his arms uncrossed.

“She’d never be friends with him. Would you?” Hermione looked at her but didn’t wait long enough for any kind of response. “So calm down, Ron.”

He sighed, “Sorry. I just hate him so much! Hagrid told us not to insult them! And Malfoy just called him a pigeon!”

Harry kicked at the fence. “He did it on purpose. He wanted to ruin Hagrid’s first day. What a lousy snake.”

Heather nodded. “He said he’d tell his father.”

“It was his own fault,” Dean spoke up above the low chatter.

One of the Slytherins scoffed, “Who starts off with dangerous killer creatures. I’m heading back. No teacher no class.”

Heather, Harry, Hermione, and Ron stayed behind and watched everyone else leave the paddock area. They watched the hippogriffs sit down and preen their feathers. They thought Hagrid would be back to put them away but as they sat there waiting the bells went off in the distance and they had to head back to the castle.

At dinner time they waited by the great hall doors to see if Hagrid was running late to dinner, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Do you think maybe Draco really wasn’t ok?” Hermione bit her bottom lip.

“Madam Pomfrey can fix anything. She’s fixed me up from much worse.”

Heather poked Harry in the arm hard. “Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, I’m starving. Maybe he’ll show up later.” Ron entered the great hall and made his way down to the Gryffindor tables.

Heather waved them goodbye and headed to her own Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting across from a crying Pansy. Heather sat down next to her and waited for Crabbe and Goyle to say anything about Draco but they just looked at her confused.

“Well? How is he?”

“Oh,” Crabbe nodded. “He’s ok.”

Goyle elbowed him, causing him to drop his fork.

“Oh, I mean. Madam Pomfrey said he was lucky to survive. Any more blood out and he would’ve definitely died.”

Pansy started sobbing louder.

“Really? But it looked like just a tiny cut…” She stared at Crabbe but his expression didn’t really say much. “Well he can still play Seeker, right?”

Pansy sat up and turned on her, “Is that all you care about! He’s hurt and all alone in the hospital in pain and we’re all here enjoying this food!” She smashed her spoon into the shared chicken pie in front of them.

“Hey!” Goyle pulled the pie away from her.

“Pansy, he isn’t dying. He has a cut. Madam Pomfrey has healed much, much worse.” Heather watched her break down again and sob into her bright green sweater that probably didn’t meet the uniform rules.

“How could that oaf let this happen!” her cries were muffled.

“Well at least they fired him.” Crabbe looked up at the high table. “See? He’s not here.”

Heather felt sweat beads start to form on her face. Did they really fire Hagrid? On his first day? Would he go back to being grounds keeper or did he really get kicked out of Hogwarts all together? Now she too felt like crying and bit her tongue instead.

She hardly ate anything for dinner and quickly caught up to Harry as they exited the great hall. “Harry! Hagrid never showed up! They’re saying he got fired.”

“Stupid Malfoy!” Ron growled. “He ruins everything!”

Hermione put her hands up to calm everyone down. “We should just go see him. Those are probably just rumors. They wouldn’t fire him just like that.”

Harry sighed, “But his dad can get lots done when he wants to. Firing Hagrid wouldn’t even be that hard compared to kicking Dumbledore out of the castle last year.”

“Hermione’s right. Let’s go see him.” Ron looked at Harry’s watch. “Heather we’ll see you at one.”

“Wait!” Hermione glanced at Heather and Harry. “Maybe we shouldn’t be leaving the castle at night… Wouldn’t want to make things worse for Hagrid if we get caught sneaking to his hut.”

“Oh stop it. We’re allowed to walk on the school grounds. The dementors haven’t let Black through, now have they.” Harry turned to Heather, “We’ll see you at one.”

They parted ways and Heather made her way down to the common room to wait for Harry and Ron. She studied her potions and herbology guide for several hours until they knocked at one and she snuck out of the castle with them. Luckily no one was walking around and it took hardly no time at all to make it down the sloping lawn to Hagrid’s hut.

The lights were on which gave them all a lot of hope that everything was ok. If Hagrid was still there then he must not have gotten fired. They knocked and waited, hearing Fang scratching at the door. Fang no longer barked when it was them and Hagrid seemed to have noticed that too.

“Open,” Hagrid yelled rougher than normal.

They walked in and saw him sitting at his wooden table drinking with a towel soaked in tears on his knee. They sat down and Heather put the cloak away.

“I musta broken a record o’ some kind… Fired firs’ day.” Hagrid hiccupped and drank more from his giant cup.

“Did they really fire you?” Hermione gasped and looked like she was about to start crying too.

Hagrid shook his head and they all relaxed a bit.

“But I’m sure they will soon,” Hagrid groaned. “Madam Pomfrey fixed him up but he’s still cryin’… moanin’ ‘bout the pain an’ all.”

“He’s obviously lying.” Harry pounded the table. “We can prove that!”

Heather rolled her eyes. “How? You can’t intimidate him into telling the truth.”

Hagrid wasn’t even listening to them. “The school gov’nors been told…Sayin’ I started too big an’ shoulda done flobberworms instead… S’all my fault for erything…”

“No! We all saw it was Malfoy’s fault. We’re witnesses! We can tell the school governors that he did it on purpose!” Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm and shook him.

Ron nodded. “Yeah! We’ll help you out!”

Hagrid blew into his towel and pulled Harry and Ron into a tight hug. Heather laughed at their faces and helped them not to stumble too much when he let them go.

“Yer right!” Hagrid sounded more cheerful now.

“We should get going, Hagrid.” Hermione got up and unfolded the cloak for them.

He saw them out the door and looked up at the moon and stars. “YER NOT S’POSED TO BE WANDERIN’ OUT AT NIGH’, HARRY.” He looked at all of them and around at the tree line. “I’m takin’ yeh guys back. Don’t come see me at night, alrigh’? Not this year. S’not worth riskin’ yer safety for me.”

They walked back under the cloak with Hagrid watching carefully behind them and Fang at the front, trotting merrily. He pulled Fang back as they left him at the entrance hall holding up a large lantern. They walked Heather down to her common room and hugged goodbye. She stepped in and made her way to the bathroom to change and headed to bed.

Pansy was asleep but she still shook her awake, “Did you go see Draco after dinner? Is he ok?”

Pansy groaned and kept her eyes shut. “Yeah. He’s ok.”

Heather crawled into bed ready for some much-needed sleep. Draco was fine, all healed up. And helping Hagrid would be easy. So far nothing was looking bad and everything seemed very manageable. She curled up under the sheets and closed her eyes.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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[readyourimgaines]

Can you write Jaskier gets tortured for information by Nilfgard soldiers. But when they are done they sew his lips together and leave him in the dungeons. (Kinda like Gabriel from spn). After like a week of him being all alone and in pain Geralt saves him after catching wind of people stealing that one bad that sings the song. And cue Geralt being hella guilt ridden and trying to help Jaskier.

Thank you so much for the request! I tweaked it just a little: I didn’t know how to write the sewing part, but I promise Jaskier does lose his voice. 

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and blood

This wasn't the first time Jaskier woke up in the inn room alone to find a note from Geralt saying he left. They never held any indignation as to where he was going and every time he went to pay for the room, it was already covered. Jaskier would go on his way and they'd cross paths in some other town a few weeks later. 

A week had passed since Jaskier woke up to find Geralt gone and was in some other Cintrian town's inn playing his lute and singing in hopes of someone giving him some coin. When no one opened their pockets, he opted for going off to another town. He should have stayed where he was.

"Honestly," Jaskier huffed, "I should learn to fight and hunt monsters myself." He made sure his lute was safely in its case before leaving the pub to find the inn. 

A young man stepped out of the pub behind him and stopped Jaskier. “Are you a bard?”

“That I am. Jaskier at your service.” He bowed slightly. 

“You sang Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Did you write that? I’ve heard a few bards sing it.” 

“Yes. Geralt’s a friend of mine whether he-” Jaskier felt a blunt searing pain for a few seconds until consciousness left him.

A Nilfgard knight towered over Jaskier from where he came out from behind his squire and grinned. “Let’s get him back to the fort.”

*****

When Geralt came to the town two days later, the workers of the inn, tavern, and pub were confused as to where the bard had gone. He seemed to have disappeared overnight. There were countless bards in the continent. Who said this bard had to be Jaskier?

“Witcher!” a woman called as soon as he entered the pub. He hummed in response. “Do you do wellness checks?”

“I’m no healer.”

“I know from the songs. The bard that sings about you, the bouncy one with brown hair. He disappeared in the night two days ago.”

“Fuck.” So it was Jaskier. 

“You know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him in a week.” He turned to leave and the barkeep panicked. 

“Where are you going?”

“To find Jaskier.”

*****

Jaskier screamed as a red hot brand was harshly placed against the bleeding sword wound on his side. He’d woken up a few hours ago to someone shattering his ribs with a club. Things only got worse from there. 

He was held standing by chains keeping his arms above his head and chains keeping his legs from giving in. He was bleeding from various places and had a few burns.

“Where is he?” the guard growled. 

“I don’t know,” Jaskier all but sobbed. He just wanted to put his arms down and sit. 

The guard withdrew the blank brand from the fire again and Jaskier panicked. “Wait! Wait!”

“What?” There was a touch of hope in the man’s voice.

“His horse’s name is Roach.” He quipped. He screamed again when the brand was slammed against his lower back.

“I told you: tell me what you know, Bard, and we’ll kill your useless ass now.”

“Just kill me.”

*****

Geralt tried to think. Where the fuck could Jaskier have been taken? Two days. They couldn’t have gone far. Who had a problem with him? That’s a long list… Narrow it down. Who has something against him within two days of travel?

 A Nilgard fort was a day and a half away. What would Nilfgard want with Geralt? The Child Surprise. He mounted Roach and urged her into a sprint.

*****

Jaskier panted as he hanged in chains, his head hanging between his shoulders, his chin rested against his chest. 

“Where could he be going?” The guard was getting bored. There was no way this bard was going to give him any information, even if he had the information. 

“Where the money leads.” Jaskier’s voice was hoarse from screaming.

“Last chance, bard.” The guard drew a knife and held it to the tip of Jaskier’s left middle finger. “Where can we find him?”

No matter what he told them they would kill him. It was now or never. “Fucking your mother.” He screamed once again as the knife removed his left middle fingertip.

*****

What took most travellers two days at a steady walking pace on horseback took eight hours at Roach’s sprint. The strong horse was used to strenuous hours of travel, though she still worked up a sweat.   

The fort was coming into view and Geralt reached into his saddlebag and gulped down a black potion, his eyes turning just as black. Coming to the entry of the fort, Geralt jumped down from Roach and drew his sword. He made fast work of the fools running to try and stop him. The last man to come out wasn’t killed but rather injured so he’d never walk again.

“Where’s the bard?” Geralt hissed, his eyes still black as coal.

“I don’t know.”

Geralt crouched down onto his level and looked him in the eyes. “Where is the bard?”

The guard Geralt directions and Geralt decapitated him. He followed the instructions and reached the dungeons. In the only cell was Jaskier chained up as he had been the last two days, clearly unconscious. The locked door was extra considering he couldn’t have dreamed of getting that far. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt called. No response. Holding out his hand, Geralt blasted the call off the hinges and rushed in, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and unsteady, but it was there. 

“So there he is.” The guard who’d been torturing Jaskier stood in the entry to the cell. 

“Give me the keys now and I’ll end your life quickly. He has nothing to do with what you want from me.” 

“He didn’t say a word then and he won’t again,” the guard laughed. “Faithful bitch you’re got here.”

Geralt’s eyes were still black, his teeth bared. “What are you talking about?” 

“He wasn’t using his voice for anything other than screaming so I had our wizard remove it.” The guard walked around Geralt and Jaskier in a circle. “It’s lovely this plan worked out so much better than we could have hoped.”

“Your men are dead. Give me the keys and your death will be near painless. I won’t offer this again.” 

“And if I don’t?”

Geralt his energy on the guard’s heartbeat and how the pace slowed as it expanded, the guard falling to his knees and clutching his chest in pain. 

“The keys.”

“Fuck you.” 

A few more seconds and the man’s heart burst, his ribs protruding from his chest. He fell to the floor in a sputtering mess as he tried to breath through destroyed lungs. Geralt searched the man and started going through his pockets to find the keys keeping his friend from freedom. At long last, he found a ring of maybe ten keys. 

Working on releasing Jaskier, Geralt wished to anything listening that the bard wouldn’t wake up yet. He didn’t the usually cheerful bard to feel the immense pain, to what Geralt himself had done.

Geralt picked Jaskier up, carrying the shockingly light man out to Roach so they could leave this damned place. Geralt mounted Roach, clinging Jaskier tightly to him.

*****

Before long, the two arrived in a wooded glade and Geralt laid Jaskier down after setting up his bedroll. He got the supplies he would need for tending to the man’s wounds and started by cleaning the burn. Jaskier awoke with a gasp and Geralt looked to the bard’s confused and pained face. He tried, for a second, to scramble away before, his mouth forming what would have a yelp. 

“Jaskier, it’s me.” Geralt said quickly, keeping his soft and calm. “It’s Geralt.” The Witcher moved slowly closer to the Bard. “You’re safe, now.” 

Jaskier didn’t resist when Geranlt’s calloused hands moved him back to the bedroll but his eyes were still wide and scared. He realised by now he couldn’t talk and that didn’t help things. 

“You’ll be alright. I’ll find a way to get your voice back. Right now, I need to clean your wounds so they don’t get infected.”

The silence as Geralt worked was killing Jaskier more than any infection would. Roach would make a noise or the leaves would rustle in the breeze but there was overall silence. He would hum softly whenever he cleaned Geralt’s wounds. 

There was a pop and Geralt spun as he stood, unsheathing his sword. Yennefer stood before him with a bag of her own. Geralt lowered his sword. “How the fuck-”

“You think so loudly it almost hurt my head.” Yen looked to Jaskier with soft eyes. She had gathered, from Geralt’s internal panicking, that Jaskier had been tortured for information about him. Seeing the state of the Bard, she knew he hadn’t told them anything.

“Can you return his voice?” Geralt broke Yen from her thoughts. 

“I can, though it won’t be pleasant. Trying to find a spell to break a curse when I don't know what one was used could take weeks of trial and…” She stopped talking when Jaskier began patting his pants’ pockets as frantically as he could.

Geralt, knowing Jaskier kept his notebook his pocket when for saddle bag and get the spare writing pad Jaskier had placed in there a month ago and handed it to the bard. Hand trembling, blood oozing onto the paper from his shortened finger, Jaskier wrote the curse down and handed the notebook to Yen.

“He speaks elder?” Yen sounded surprised.

“Fluently,” Geralt confirmed. 

“Know what curse was used makes this far more pleasant for all of us, Bard.” Yen closed her eyes for a second and said the spell in Elder with her hand held out towards Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s voice returned to him with an exclamation of “Oh shit. Thank you.” His voice was still hoarse from screaming but he could speak.

“Can you do anything for his wounds?” Geralt asked.

“Not yet. He’s lost too much blood. I’ll stay with the two of you and help when I can.”

“What concerns me most is this finger.” Geralt inspected the bleeding digit.

“He cut it because I said you were fucking his mother,” Jaskier rasped. Both Geralt and Yennefer looked to the bard with amused looks.

“What?” Yen laughed. 

“He asked where Geralt could be found. I told him fucking his mothing.” Jaskier coughed and Yen retrieved a waterskin and help him to drink. 

“Not too much too fast. You’ll get sick.” 

“What else did you tell?” Geralt was trying to distract Jaskier from the pain that would come with cleaning the bleeding finger.

“That your horse’s name is Roach.” Jaskier let out a whimper and instinctively tried to pull his hand away. 

Deciding to try a different method of distracting Jaskier, he proceeded to speak of the couple monsters he fought in their time apart. Though the story wasn’t as eloquent as the story about the Selkie Maw, the Witcher did his best to include more details than what the beast was and the fact that it was now dead.

*****

The three laid around the fire Yennefer started. She was sleeping, Geralt was resting but didn’t plan on sleeping until he knew Jaskier was fine. Jaskier was trying to fight the sleep trying to take its hold. He knew the stories of people who went mad because of nightmares they had; being forced to relive the hell they were put through.  

“I’m sorry.” Geralt’s gruff voice came from Jaskier’s left.

“Pardon?” Jaskier turned his head to look at his friend. 

“You wouldn’t be bleeding and wounded if I hadn’t left you.”

“Neither of us knew it was going to happen. I should be thanking for saving me. It feels so nice to have my arms at my sides.”

Geralt shook his head. “You know I’m to blame.”

“I don’t because I’m still here.” Jaskier yawned, sleep finally tugging on his eyelids. “Thank you.” And he drifted off to sleep.

[sennokami]

♛ (here u go u goblin)

Soul Mates AU - accepting !!

Word count: 1944Summary: Uchiha Madara is a poor kid with a full ride to one of the most prestigious schools in Tokyo. Hashirama is already there. (In which reincarnated soul mates remember their past lives the first time they touch.)

The first time Madara set foot in Azabu, home of the very rich and very upper-class, was also his first day of school. Oujo Senior Private High School lived up to its pretentious name; the campus was a massive white steel-glass complex that he spotted before he even got off the train and had a long brick wall that separated it from the rest of the district. 

What for, he wondered. To keep the slightly less rich out? He already felt out of place here – if it weren’t for his pressed uniform, he probably would’ve been arrested three streets earlier. He spotted other students in the same white-and-blue uniform walking towards the entrance. Unlike him, they walked like they belonged here.

Madara had been ecstatic when he got this scholarship. Now, he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

The interior of Oujo was as grand as its exterior. He walked through the bright corridors in a daze, his shoes squeaking on the million dollar tiles, until he found his classroom. 1-A. It was half full already, students clumped around the room in small groups as they chatted, waiting for class to start. Several eyes turned to him when he entered the room and Madara immediately got a sense of his situation.

This school was an institution for the children of the ultra-rich. All of them had probably gone to Oujo Private Primary before and thus knew each other for years. Madara, on the other hand, was a new face with a last name no one recognized.

He’d gone to schools with rigid hierarchies before. It’d never ended well.

Madara found a seat that was secluded from everyone else. He probably should be going around the room to introduce himself and feel out these waters… but he didn’t want to. He didn’t care to rub shoulders with these spoiled brats. He was here to learn.

More kids came in. The room steadily rose in volume but no one approached him. He was fine with that. Ten minutes passed before a bell rang and everyone shuffled to their seats. Except for one guy. He stood in front of the (pretentious) smart board like he was getting ready for a martial reveille. His back was straight, his uniform was crisp, and he was very, very good-looking. Madara disliked him immediately.

“Good morning everyone!” the guy said. “I’m happy to welcome everyone back to Oujo. Our class composition hasn’t actually changed that much, which is great, and I heard our homeroom teacher is going to be Bashira-sensei. So we’re lucky! Ahh, I just wanted to say some things before class started –”

“Ne, Senju-san, sit down! You’re not even the class rep anymore!” one of the students called out. There was laughter, but it was good-natured.

“Don’t worry, we’ll elect you again this year!”

“Haah, you don’t need to do that,” the guy – Hashirama – said. He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. Even his smile was good-looking. Madara really didn’t like him. “I’m just very glad we’re all back together again. Things haven’t been the same since Hyuuga-san left last year.”

Jeez. How sickening. It seemed like everyone in the class knew each other and Madara was the lone man out. No one called on him and he didn’t stand up – thi was fine. He could fly under the radar. After Senju was done talking, their teacher – Bashira-sensei – came in. She was a tall, broad woman with a wide, perfect smile, and her voice swelled to fill the room.

“We have a new student this year, everyone! I want you all to give Uchiha-kun a warm welcome. Will you please introduce yourself to the class?”

Madara sighed inwardly. There it was. The thing he’d been dreading this whole time. He got up and trudged to the front of the classroom so everyone could gawk at him to their satisfaction.

“My name is Uchiha Madara,” he said blandly. He had it rehearsed now. “I’m sixteen years old. I’m from Deimon High School, I transferred here on a scholarship. Please take care of me.”

Look over the room. Bow. Done. Sit down. That’d been his plan, until someone raised their arm.

Tch! Who the hell do you think you are…? Madara glared at the culprit. Senju. He’d known he had good reason for disliking him.

“Yes, Senju-kun?”

“I think it’s very impressive you got a scholarship, Uchiha-san!” Senju immediately said. “Please don’t be worried, we would all like to be your friend.”

Madara almost saw the flowers shooting out of his ass. He blinked dully and grunted acknowledgement. “Thanks.” Glancing at Bashira-sensei, he went back to his seat.

Thirty minutes into class, a little scrap of paper flipped onto his desk. Madara stopped halfway through the math problem he was working on. He looked up to see if the sender was looking at him, but everyone looked like they were working on the problems.

Curious despite himself, he unfolded the note under his desk.

Hey, Uchiha-san! Would you like to eat together during our lunch period? I know first days can be tough :^) - Senju Hashirama

What the hell? Who did this guy think he was? Madara had half a mind to tear the note up and throw it at him two seats over, but he had better things to do. He shoved the note into his pocket and went back to his worksheet.

Ten minutes later, another note flipped onto his desk. He looked up faster this time and caught sight of Hashirama. He grinned at him and gave him a thumb’s up. Madara rolled his eyes and opened the note.

You don’t have to write back anything, we can eat together, okay? OwO

If he got another fucking note, he was going to find Senju after school and shove them in his mouth. Madara put this one in his pocket too and went back to his work.

He avoided Hashirama in between the class breaks. He wasn’t interested in whatever aggressive kind of friendship he was offering, especially if it was because he felt, like, pity for him or something. Madara didn’t care. He wasn’t going to be a do-gooder’s charity project.

When come lunch period, however, he was cornered in the hallway. Madara had been counting on Senju buying his food like everyone else, but he had a bento.

“There you are, Uchiha-san!” he gushed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Godammit, leave me alone…

“Are you eating on the roof? Great, I’ll join you!”

Somehow, Madara ended up with a tag-along that dogged his heels all the way up the four flights of stairs to the roof. He avoided the elevators pointedly despite Senju’s repeated overtures and by the time they found the roof access, Senju was puffing softly.

“Wow, Uchiha-san,” Senju huffed, “you’re pretty fit, huh? You’re not even breathing hard!”

“I exercise,” he replied shortly. He sat down on the metal stairs and unpacked i bento. If he ate quickly, maybe he could get the slip on him –

“It’s a nice day today, you know!” Senju said as he parked his ass right next to him. “I think it’s gonna be a great – oh!”

His hand knocked into Madara’s hand right as he was opening his thermos. Warm tea immediately spilled all over him. It wasn’t hot enough to hurt but his uniform, once pristine and snowy-white, had a long streak of pale brown down his chest.

Dammit, Hashirama, how can you be so strong and this clumsy?

Madara blinked. Somewhere inside him, something old and big and very scary woke up.

Hashirama made a wheezing noise. Madara gurgled until he found his voice.

“You…” he said slowly. The words in his mouth felt strange to him now. Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, a part of him that was very old remembering something much different. “Hashirama, you…?”

Hashirama looked at him. His handsome face was very pale and his eyes were very wide. Madara saw himself reflected in them and he was already a little bit in love.

“Ma… da… ra?” Hashirama said slowly, like he was saying a new word for the first time in his life. “Did you just…?”

“I felt that,” Madara confirmed. An old, buried instinct compelled him to put his hand on Hashirama’s cheek. It was an intensely intimate gesture beyond the scope of his sixteen years. He blushed as soon as he did it. “I’m here. You’re here.”

Sitting on this cold metal staircase, cold tea leaking into his pants, Madara remembered a time when skyscrapers didn’t exist and the phone in his bag could’ve been called magic. There were so many years in there that his head spun trying to comprehend it all, but he knew one thing very well. To-the-marrow-of-his-bones well.

He and Hashirama were always meant to do this.

Hashirama reached up and put his hand over his. The sixteen year old in Madara melted. The ageless killer just smiled knowingly.

“We found each other,” Hashirama breathed. His eyes were a rich brown that carried an inner light in them. He was young but big in way that said he’d keep on growing. He was everything that Madara recognized in this lifetime and the next.

“We did,” Madara sighed, curling his fingers against his skin. He didn’t know which one of them moved first, him or Hashirama, but they were kissing, their lunches forgotten. They had to pause to move them so they didn’t spill – and they both laughed at the mundanity of it all – before they went back to touching each other, fascinated and greedy. They only resurfaced when Hashirama’s digital watch beeped to signal the last ten minutes of lunch period.

“Let’s ditch,” Madara immediately said.

“We shouldn’t,” Hashirama replied as he began to eat quickly. “It’s our first day here! It wouldn’t look good, and you’re a scholarship student, so you can’t –”

“We can lie about it, who cares?” Madara laughed. “I’m not going to be able to concentrate now that I know you’re here.”

Math problems? Chemistry? Japanese? Who cared? What did it matter when he’d found his soul mate?

“There’s only four more periods left,” Hashirama insisted. “And then… maybe…” he grinned a little, not entirely sly but not fully innocent. “You could come over. I’ve had sleepovers before. You can take my spare uniform too since I messed up yours.”

“Oh – oh, yeah.” Madara glanced down at his stained jacket. He couldn’t care less about it. Hashirama buzzed in his senses like a drug. All he wanted to do was breathe him in and touch him, remember him, to feel him until he couldn’t tell their bodies apart anymore.

That’s not normal, whispered the young part of him. The older pieces from a forgotten age just laughed. What was the point of loving if you didn’t do it madly?

“We can go to class,” Madara murmured. He packed up his bento, appetite forgotten. All he wanted was for this school day to end so he and Hashirama could pick up where they left off. “Come on.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Hashirama said, but he still hurried up to finish.

They walked back down together. They fell into step easily, making spaces for each other, as their bodies remembered truths older than the modern age.

[dr0wning-in-hell]

Swoon - Cisco Ramon

Summary : cisco has been trying lame and cheesy pick lines on Y/N in order to swoon her, but she acts as if they don’t effect her when they really do. By the end of the day the truth is spilled and the two have a little fun.

Word Count : 2.4k+

Warnings : cheesy!cisco, fluff, SMUUTTT, fingering, handjob, lots of teasing, sinful stuff,

Pairing/characters : reader x cisco Ramon, Barry Allen, Caitlyn snow, Iris West- Allen, 

Prompt : “Could I request some flirty!Cisco?? Maybe trying to woo the reader and just swoon worthy cheesy shit and maybe some nsfw ;)))” - anon

A/N : ENJOOYYY. I love me some cisco Ramon smut so I hope you enjoy ittt.

 New masterlist| requests | prompt list

“Hey Y/N.” Cisco said to the girl sitting at one of the desks in S.T.A.R. Labs. She didn’t respond. “Y/N. Y/N/N. Y/L/N.” Cisco said anything to get her attention until she finally turned around and gave him an evil look, he smirked back in response. “Are you a cake?” Silence, “Cause I want a piece of that.” Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back around, meanwhile Iris and Caitlyn gave Cisco confused looks. 

Y/N got up, stretching to relieve some muscle ache, “Today is so slow.” She stated, “It’s like everyone just took a vacation at once,” Iris and Caitlyn nodded in agreement. Iris checked in with Barry to see if there was any activity and there wasn’t, as already stated. 

“Well, since there is nothing going on right now I am going to work.” Iris stated as she grabbed her purse, “I’ll see you guys later.” Everyone said their goodbyes to Iris and then continued on with sitting around the lab. It was about thirty minutes later when Caitlyn decided to leave as well.

Once Caitlyn was out the door Cisco turned to Y/N, “Looks like it’s just us.” He said leaning back in his chair. Y/N let out a smal ‘mhm’ as she began to work on something on her laptop. Interested, and rather bored, Cisco got up to see what she was doing. It looked like she was writing a paper, a very long paper. 

Cisco stood over Y?N’s shoulder, watching as she typed. It annoyed Y/N to say the least, him watching and breathing over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She grumbled irritably. 

“Nah, just wanted to see what you were up to.” Cisco said, “What are you up to anyways?”

Y/N huffed, “I’m writing a paper for one of my college classes if you must know.” Cisco had no idea she was still in college, “Yes, I’m in college Cisco, don’t be so surprised.” Cisco looked down at Y/N, confused as to how she knew what he was thinking, “You said it loud.” 

“Oh.” Cisco gulped, “What are you writing about?” He pulled up a chair next to her and sat down. 

Y/N huffed, annoyed with all the questions. She just wanted to get her work done, “My professor wants us to write a paper on how the Particle Excelerator explosion turned normal humans into meta-humans.” Y/N explained, “No one knows how to write something like this because they don’t work or know any personally, but because I do it’s easier for me.”

“Then why do you seem so aggitated with it?” Cisco asked her. Y/N sighed, and Cisco couldn’t help the feeling in his chest when he watched her run a hand through her hair. 

“Because I know too much information. I’m trying to make it seem like I don’t work with three meta-humans.” Y/N said. She turned back to her laptop and began working on her paper again.

With Cisco being Cisco, instead of saying some encouraging words he instead said yet another cheesy pick up line, “I know you’re bust today, but can you add me to your to-do list?” Y/N shook her head. From Cisco’s perspective it looked like she was just as angry with him as she was with her paper, but he couldn’t see the smile that was on her face.

Throughout the day Y/N was bombarded with lame pick up lines, and when she asked Cisco why he was saying such horrible jokes he said, “I’m just trying to get you to swoon over me, Y/L/N.” As the day went on the pickup lines also got a little bit more dirtier, “Is that a mirror in or pocket? Cause I can see myself in your pants!” Or, “My lips taste like skittles, wanna taste the rainbow?” Every single pick up line not only made Y/N conceal her laughter, but also the heat building up between her thighs. 

It’s not like she didn’t like Cisco and his cheesy jokes, she loved them actually, but she didn’t want to tell him her feelings for him and ruin their friendship. So, she acted as if she didn’t like him half of the time. Cisco was head over heals for Y/N though and would do anything to see her smile or to hear her laugh. When she was introduced to Team Flash it was like love at fist sight. The way she smiled, the way her eyes sparkled, everything about her made him weak in the knees. He would do anything for that girl, even if she didn’t have the same feelings for him. Which she did, he just didn’t know it.

When the day came to an end, Y/N and Cisco packed up their things and were getting ready to leave when the unthinkable happened. Cisco vibes Y/N. She didn’t notice, not right away at least. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the lingering thought that had been stuck in Y/N’s head all day. The image of Cisco fucking himself into Y/N as she screamed out his name made him harden in seconds. Next came the truth about her feelings for him. Cisco reeled back from her thoughts, eyes wide and chest beating rapidly. 

Y/N noticed his stunned face and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and worry, “Cisco? Is everything okay?” She asked. He didn’t think, he dropped his things and pulled Y/N into a kiss. It surprised her, how forecful it was but how soft it was at the same time. This was what she wanted, there was no denying that in any way, so she dropped her bag to the floor and quickly swung her arms around Cisco’s neck to tangle her hands in his hair.

“I accidently saw what you were thinking.” Cisco said, pulling away from Y/N’s lips. Her face flushed red in embarrassment. “If it’s okay with you I want to make that daydream a reality.” Y/N nodded, but he needed to hear her say it. “Say it, I need to know you’re okay with this.”

“I’m okay with this, I want this.” She said, That was all it took for him to swiftly pick her up of the ground and place her on the desk behind them. Their lips were on each other again, ruthlessly fighting one another for dominance until one was the winner. Eventually Cisco gave up and began leaving a trail of light hickies along Y/N’s neck. The girl’s hands worked at getting her shirt and bra off as he continued with her trail. Once the pieces were off his hands started massaging her breasts, squeezing her nipples and then sucking on them. Her head fell back, a low moan escaping her lips. If he already had her moaning for him then it wouldn’ take long till she was screaming his name.

“Take off your pants.” He instructed. 

“Only if you take off yours.” Y/N smirked, sending a wink his way after. Cisco chuckled and did as told, stripping from his khakis and then watched as Y/N oh so slowly shimmied out of her skin tight jeans.

Cisco let out an audible groan in satisfaction as he drank in how gorgeous and absolutely sexy Y/N was. “You look so good.” He growled, stepping forward enough to where his hands were now resting on her inner thighs. Y/N didn’t have time to reply as she soon felt the feeling of his fingers playing with her folds. “And you’re so wet. That daydream really did turn you on didn’t it?” He questioned her. Y/N nodded but didn’t speak, resulting in the man pinching her bundle of nerves and sending a breathy shriek to come out of Y/N.

“Yes, yes it did. It turned me on so much.” Y/N whimpered. She watched as he spread her slick through her folds and across his fingers. The teasing sensation of his fingers so close to her entrance made her cry out. “Please, Cisco, please stop teasing me.

The meta-human chuckled at her begging for him, never really thinking of her as that type. Having had enough of the teasing himself, Cisco slowly eased his digits into Y/N, watching as her head fell back and her mouth hung open, letting small gasps fill the room. It was slow, every movement and curl of his finger in her pussy made the heat in her stomach grow. He added another finger, and then another finger, stretching out her walls perfectly, with just enough pressure to send her hips bucking up into his hand. Cisco began to thrust his fingers faster, curling and scissoring them inside her till her legs were shaking from pleasure.

Trying to keep her composure, Y/N reached out and slid her hand into Cisco’s boxer briefs to grab his member. The thickness she felt shocked her to say the least and the thought of his dick fucking her sensless made her moan out loudly. Pulling out his cock she began to stroke him slowly until she was able to build up speed and almost match his thrusts. The sounds that came from Cisco just spurred Y/N on even more, boosting her confidence as well as his. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.”  Cisco groaned out, now rubbing her clit with his thumb and applying pressure. “You close baby? I want you to cum on my fingers.” 

Y/N nodded, “I’m so close.” CIsco sped up his movements and Y/N did the same, trying to keep up but the knot in her stomach was saying otherwise. “Fuck I’m cumming.” Y/N moaned out, her hand stopping as she came onto Cisco’s fingers. His dick twitched, his own cum spurting itself onto her hand. The two were breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. Y/N’s forhead was covered in a thin lay of sweat, Cisco’s was as well.

“That was good.” Cisco breathed out. He was about to speak again, but Y?N raised her hand to stop him. 

“No more talking, you said you wanted to make that daydream a reality, I don’t think it just ended there.” The smirk that crossed her face sent a delicious shiver down Cisco’s spine. He moved everything on the desk out of the way then yanked Y/N to the edge of the desk, forcing her legs around his hips. “You gonna fuck me, Cis?” Y/N said tauntingly, “You gonna make me cum again?”

Cisco growled, “I’m gonna make you scream babygirl, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” Before another taunting comment could be spoken, Cisco was lined up at Y/N’s entrance and he thrusted into her. The burn felt so good, which would be odd for most girl, but not for Y/N. She loved the feeling of his cock inside her tight cunt, it brought pleasure to the both of them. Cisco’s  head fell back and he muttered out a low ‘fuck’, before regaining his senses and starting thrust into Y/N. His thrusts started out slow, until he knew Y/N was okay and not in pain he took his time with every drag of his cock. 

“You feel so good.” Y/N moaned, “Stretching me out so good.”

The dirty words coming from her mouth sent a harsh thrust of Cisco’s hips into her cunt making her let out a surprised shriek. “Wanna hear you scream my name.” He growled. “Let me know who belong to.” His hips began to move at a faster and harsher pace, not giving Y/N enough time to even let out a single sound. With the angle of his dick, the thickness, and lenght, Y/N didn’t know how long she was going to last this time. 

When Cisco shifted Y/N’s legs around his hips and threw them over his shoulders, it sent his dick into the perfect spot. “Fuck!” Y/N screached, lurching forward a bit, “Right there, right there CIsco.” One of his hands on her hips went up to fondle with her breasts, just igniting the fire that was already burning in her cunt. 

“Who do you belong to?” He asked as he squeezed her nipple, “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You!” Y/N yelled, “I belong to you, Cisco.” The pleasure so good that Y/N now had tears in her eyes that were threading to spill over. 

“Good girl.” He praised. The two were reaching their high again, the twitch of his cock and the squeezing of her walls was the signal that it was almost time. “Want you to cum all over my cock, then I’m gonna cum all over your pretty cunt.” With a few more hard thrusts into her pussy Y/N was screamin Cisco’s name and cumming all over his cock. Once she was finished and coming down from her cloud, Cisco pulled out, pumping himself twice until his sperm was dripping down her thighs and cunt and onto the floor. 

Cisco grabbed some tissues to clean Y/N up while she got dressed, the two still dazed from the previous actions. Once all cleaned up and dressed again, the two didn’t know what to say. Cisco, always knowing how to break the ice, said, “I know we’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.” Y/N laughed, that gorgeous smile making Cisco smile as well. 

“I think you owe me a date now mister.” Y/N stated, slowly bending down and picking up her bag. The two locked their hands together as they walked out of the lab, smiling and happy that the truth was finally out. 

[thadelightfulone]

The Firm - Chapter 1

Prologue

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler. 

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

Words: 2K+

Erik ran his hand through his dreads before excusing everyone from the conference room. This was his final meeting of the week. He did not realize how much work this new project would entail and he hasn’t even started it yet. As soon as he hung up with Green last week, he knew he would have to hand over everything he was working on, regardless of how much work he put in. This is an open-ended assignment, and he has no idea how long it will last, but he has to see it through to the end, no matter what.

Projects and assignments that were close to being finished or reaching a natural conclusion, he passed off to another member of his senior team. Newly signed contracts, delegated to the research department until they were assigned to another consulting team. It was nice to be your own boss, but he enjoyed putting in the work on his own. He stayed with a list of projects on his plate and now he had to let them all go just to help an old friend. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the open door.

“Mr. Stevens, your car is here to take you to the airport. I already emailed your trip itinerary to you. Have a safe trip, sir.”

“Thank you, Tiana. I’m on my way out now. Please lock up after me.” He grabs his luggage and briefcase before leaving the conference room. 15 minutes later, he is pulling up to the small jet sitting idly on the tarmac. As the jet takes off, he wonders when was the last time he stepped foot in the Golden State. He closed his eyes for a moment as sleep took over.

Erik was still out as the jet landed in the private field behind John Wayne Airport. The stewardess lightly tapped his shoulder to let him know they have arrived at their destination. He stood to stretch out his muscles, rolling his neck and shoulders before deboarding the jet with his belongings. He stalks over to his rental and puts his stuff away for the drive.

He puts on some music hoping to drown out the thoughts that are dwarfing everything else in his mind. Nothing helps so he gives up and turns it down. As the smooth sounds of Billie Holiday play in the background, he tries to collect his thoughts.

Green could have hired anyone else for this job. What about this woman makes him so protective that he had to call in his favor? He pinches his nose as his thoughts drift to Bridges. His breathing becomes more erratic, and his knuckles are turning white. Why did Green have to do this to him? Life was grand - his company was in high demand, he could write his own ticket for each new job, and he truly enjoyed what he did. As he focuses on the road ahead of him, he loosens his hold on the wheel, and he finally acknowledges that all he is today started way back then.

He made it to the waterfront condo he would be staying in until this job was done, dropped his luggage in the hallway, and threw his suit jacket on the chair in the back of the living room. Walking towards the bar by one of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, he filled the tumbler with whiskey. He watched the drink swirling it around and lost himself in the waves they created in the glass, closing his eyes he thought about the moment he became indebted to Green.

--- 15 Years Earlier ---

Stevens made it about 3 klicks away from Green when he turns on his own radio to hear the call.

“Green to Command. Green to Command. We have a problem. Master Sergeant McCoy is non-responsive. Requesting back up at my location.” There is nothing but static on the line until someone at the Command Center responds.

“We have McCoy patrolling near the old house. Are you there? What are you seeing?”

“I am here; I was coming by to relieve him when he didn’t respond. I came upon the house, and he is on the ground around back. It looks like he was hit, but I cannot tell where.”

“Alright, we are sending back up. Be careful out there if he was ambushed; you could be in danger.”

“Thank you Command. I will stay in place until help arrives.”

Two more members of the unit and Stevens arrive to assess the situation. McCoy was pronounced dead at the scene. He was hit directly in the chest, his lungs taking the brunt of the impact. It was an uncomfortable death as he drowned in his own blood. Green found the bag and sniper’s rifle that was left on top of a shooter’s nest in one of the trees lining the property. Stevens exchanged looks with Green as the latter turned over the evidence to their next Commanding Officer. The unspoken agreement cemented at that moment with one silent nod and another confirming one.

Two weeks later, the whole unit is heading back to the states with McCoy’s body in tow. Until the investigation into his death concludes, they have been relieved from active duty. Stevens takes that time to sign his release papers. He only had another couple months before he would have resigned for another four years. Although, he loved it; this last time out in the field did something to him. His special ops unit saw more action than any other and some things happened that caused him to question everything he thought he knew.

--- Present Day ---

Erik threw back the whole tumbler in one go and refills it. Green had been right about him keeping tabs on the team. It was easy to do when you were on an Elite Special Ops team with eight other people. McCoy, Stevens, Green, Bridges, Daniels, Johnson, Patton, Christian, and Lee. Although, he worked hard to leave that time of his life behind him. He smiled at the knowledge that the individuals he bonded with were doing great things. Most blended into civilian life with ease after service. Some with white collar and blue collar jobs; then there are those like Stevens and Green who went into business for themselves using their skills.

He pulls the file for Green’s company from his briefcase and lays it on the counter. He knows the man’s life like the back of his hand at this point. Lifting the drink, he recites his bio for the thousandth time. Green, the trust-fund kid who went to school after serving his country. He earned his MBA from Cal State Fullerton and went on to start a philanthropic investment firm locally. His company deploys capital to both for- and non-profit entities. The firm helps other big companies look good as they try to expand their philanthropic efforts.

He sets down the empty glass and grabs his bag. Time to call it a night as he has an early morning and an even longer day ahead of him. In the bathroom, he works through his nighttime routine before retreating to the bedroom. He turns down the bed and lies on his back with his hands behind his head until his eyes close.

Erik slowly approaches the front of the high-rise building that housed Greenbridge Investments, Inc. It is in the center of Downtown Irvine, close to the other corporate offices of some big-name companies. It is a prime location to be right next to most of their clients. His hands are clammy as he reaches the glass double doors, inhaling and exhaling at a steady pace. Shakily, he opens the doors to the lobby. He knew why he was here, and he was happy to repay the debt, but he had so many questions.

He already knows what floor he is going to but takes a moment to take in his new surroundings as this will be his place of work for the foreseeable future. There is security around the open lobby layout, some in plain clothes. He notices the cameras moving swiftly over the entrance doors and by the elevators. One of the elevators has a key entrance. Leave it to Green to make sure he is in a secured metal vessel of a building. He looks at the directory noting that Greenbridge takes up the top five floors of the building, 30- 35. He walks towards the elevators when a flurry of activity passes his peripheral before he hits the ground.

--- The Night Before ---

It has been a whole week, and LaNyah is not any closer to figuring out why there are so many discrepancies in these reports. Every week, she runs reports on the money coming in and out of one of the biggest scholarship accounts that Greenbridge owns. Last week, she discovered that she could not make the amounts on the reports match the transactions from that same week. She decides to run the report for the last 3 months; one week is fine the next is inaccurate. Of course, this makes absolutely no sense to her because when she reconciled the reports within the week per usual, everything balanced.

Pushing the files away from her, she sighs as she looks over at her digital clock on her office desk. The blaring red letters reading that is after 1 am. She needs to get some sleep; she is supposed to meet with Green in the morning to report her findings. Standing suddenly, she tilts nearly falling into the lamp next to her. She pulls her glasses off and starts rubbing her hands over face, hoping that will clear up her vision. She has been staring at those reports for hours and lost track of time.

She sluggishly walks down the hall to her bedroom. As she prepares for bed, her mind keeps drifting back to the issue at hand. Shaking her head because she knows she cannot fix this tonight or even tomorrow, she climbs into bed. She spends the next two hours tossing and turning before her body settles, and sleep arrives.

The light coming in through her bedroom window wakes her up. Glancing at her bedside clock, she screams, “Damn it, I don’t need this shit today.” It is 7:30 in the morning and she has to be at her desk by 9 am. Tangled up in her sheets, she falls out of the bed onto her hardwood floors, slipping and sliding her way to the bathroom.

She is looking in the mirror huffing at her appearance. Of course, her hair decides it wants to add to her great start. Mouth full of bobby pins, she flats twists the front and pulls all her curls around into a bun at the bottom of her neck. Dropping by her office, she pulls the files and notes from her desk to take with her. Passing the kitchen on her way to the door, she grabs her tea, “Son of a bitch,” she screeches as piping hot tea douses her shirt and skin. “At least it didn’t get the reports, but I really don’t have time for this.” She drops everything on the kitchen table and runs back to her room to change her blouse.

Finally making it out the door, she figures she can change shoes at her desk. She arrives at the office, climbs out of her car, and scrapes her thigh on the door. Mumbling she looks at the run in her pantyhose, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. We are ok, Nyah. We just need to make it to our desk and then get it together. These are small setbacks, and they will not ruin our whole day.” She shakes herself out to keep from breaking down in the parking lot. She gathers her heels, the file folders, and her purse before locking the car.

As she enters the lobby, per her usual she keeps her head down and doesn’t talk to anyone. She makes a direct beeline from the entrance doors to the bank of elevators. She is walking with such determination that she does not notice the man moving away from the directory to the elevators and runs smack into him.

A/N: As always, I have to thank my lovely beta, @thehonorablekingerik for telling me when to stop, HA. I am setting up a taglist, so please let me know if you want to be on it.

Taglist: @nemesispawn @killmongersaidheyauntie @shesfromwakanda @muse-of-mbaku @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @pananegra

Chapter 2

[hecamity]

paper ornaments

a/n: bkdk secret santa fic for @amajikies! happy holidays, friend! i used some elements from my current college au bc i don’t know how to break away from it hfjdks. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy! (word count: 4456)

read it on ao3 here.

summary: katsuki forgoes going home for winter break, planning to spend the holidays alone locked in his dorm room in peaceful solitude. izuku, his fellow residence hall neighbor though, won’t stand for it. college au.

“Are you really not going home for winter break?” Kirishima asked Katsuki for the thousandth time that evening, turning around to face him after managing to zip up his overstuffed suitcase.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, not bothering to look up at him, gaze focused on a panel from a weird, gory, but oddly addicting zombie manga he’d stolen from Kaminari’s shelf earlier that day. “I already told you I’m not going anywhere. Fuck off.”

“Your mom will be disappointed.”

“She sees me almost every weekend—she’ll live.”

Kaminari, who’d been sitting at his desk submitting some final assignments, reached over to shut his laptop and spun around to face Katsuki with an incredulous expression. “You’re willing to stay on campus for the next two weeks instead of going home?”

Katsuki turned a page with a snort. “Fuck yeah. I’ll finally get some rest without you assholes around.”

It wasn’t as if winter break was anything special to Katsuki, anyway.

The last three winter breaks, he’d gone home and he never did much. His days consisted of him lounging around his house until his mother chased him with a broomstick in order to get him to help clean or Kirishima and Kaminari blasted his phone with persistent text messages to spend the day out.

Christmas day itself was also nothing special; his mother usually made a light dinner for him and his father and then they’d have some store brought cake for dessert. Later on, his friends would come around in the late evening and pressure him into a night of karaoke.

This year he was a senior and as an art major, he was expected to create one final masterpiece for his Capstone the upcoming semester.

His inspiration though, had been running low lately, and he planned to use the next two weeks on the empty campus to focus on planning for his Capstone without any distractions.

Kirishima only sighed at his friend before giving him a toothy grin. The redhead grabbed at the handle of his suitcase and with loud bang, the suitcase stood in front of him. “I hope you’re not too lonely without us.”

This time Katsuki lowered the manga volume to give Kirishima a smirk. “Not likely. Now get the hell out of here before you miss your train.”

Kirishima picked up his jacket from his bed and started towards the door, towing his suitcase behind him. Kaminari followed suit, his duffle bag already over his shoulder.

“Remember, we’re only a twenty minute train ride away when you can’t take the agonizing silence of this soon to be cold, lonely dorm room—”

Kirishima was silenced by the third volume of Zombies in Tokyo hitting his head with a mighty thunk.

A few hours after his roommates left, Katsuki found himself lounging in his floor’s common room. His legs were hitched onto the coffee table in front of him and he was using one of the couch’s cushions as leverage, a sketchbook in front of him.

In the background, he could faintly hear the All Might anime re-run he’d turned on, half paying attention to the action on screen.

“DETROIT SMASH!!!!!” the muscular superhero cried as he extended a fist toward a sludge monster who roared in response.

Typically he avoided the area, as it was usually loud and swarmed with the people he shared his floor with, except for late nights when he couldn’t sleep and he could relax in the silence.

This was one of those rare moments in which Katsuki could find himself there without running into anyone or sharing control of the one television, most of the campus having already been abandoned by students going back home for the next two weeks.

“Is that All Might?!” an excited voice squeaked from the entrance to the common room.

The sudden noise caused him to flinch and lose control of the hand that had been sketching. Gritting his teeth in irritation, he narrowed his red eyes at the now uneven line on the page before him. With a loud sigh he shifted them to turn his glare towards the voice that had broken his concentration.

He was met with a familiar face: freckled rosy cheeks, shining emerald eyes, a beaming smile, and a head of messy, green curls.

Katsuki immediately recognized him; he’d occasionally seen him around the residence hall, flanked by a cinnamon haired girl and a bespectacled giant. They’d also shared a Japanese history seminar he’d been forced to take as a prerequisite the semester before; Katsuki remembered him sitting in the front of the class, one of the few students who participated frequently, often times going off on passionate ramblings he’d had trouble catching most of the time.

The boy walked in further into the room, hugging a composition notebook to his chest. It took a moment before his excited smile turned into one of embarrassment, his already flushed cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “I interrupted you, I’m so sorry!”

Katsuki felt his glare drop slightly and his heart skip a beat at the sight his bashful little grin.

Adorable fuckhead. The thought slipped before he could stop it and it took everything in him not to blanch at himself because for fuck’s sake, he did not find anything or anyone adorable.

Especially not annoyingly overenthusiastic, broccoli-headed individuals who dared interrupt him while he worked.

Katsuki huffed and moved his eyes back down to his sketchbook, aggressively erasing at his mistake. “Apology not accepted, shithead.”

The green-haired boy’s smile did not leave his face though and Katsuki was surprised his unfriendliness hadn’t deterred him from approaching the couch.

“Can I join you?”

“I think the fuck not.”

He completely ignored Katsuki’s rejection, settling himself into the seat beside the blond, bringing his knees up to his chest. The notebook he’d been holding was tossed on the coffee table in front of them. “This is the sludge monster episode! Iconic.”

Katsuki stopped the sketching he had resumed to give him a blank look. “Are you some kind of nerd?”

“If you’re asking me that because of my enthusiasm for this incredibly amazing, legendary series, then yes I definitely am.”

Katsuki refrained from snorting at his response. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Home like everyone else?”

“I’m staying on campus for winter break this year,” he answered back his green eyes shifting from the television to look at Katsuki curiously. “Why haven’t you left for winter break?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“You’re a grouchy one, aren’t you?” Katsuki could hear the teasing lilt in his voice.

“And you’re annoying as fuck, aren’t you?”

“Touché, Bakugou-san.” The curly-haired boy laughed lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile.

Katsuki’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, his head whipping to give him a surprised look. “You know my name?”

“Of course,” the boy’s tone was matter-of-fact. “We were in the same history seminar last semester!”

Katsuki couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt at not remembering his name.

Clearing his throat, Katsuki picked up his long forgotten charcoal pencil to resume his work. “Right.”

A silence fell between them, the only sound coming from the television. From the corner of his eye, Katsuki could see that the boy was watching the screen once more, the corner of his lips upturned in amusement.

Three episodes later, the strangely comfortable companionable silence that fell between them would sometimes be broken with an occasional comment about the episode playing.

Katsuki had almost been disappointed—almost—when the green-haired boy stood from his seat, stretching his arms upward. “I’m going to head to bed. Thanks for letting me watch All Might with you, Bakugou-san.”

“I never—”

“Goodnight! I’ll see you around!”

“No, you the fuck you won’t!” Katsuki growled loudly, listening to the sound of his laughter as he walked down the hall.

When he leaned back against the couch cushions, his scarlet eyes traveled to the coffee table and landed on the composition notebook that the green-haired boy had brought in with him.

Tossing his sketchbook to the side, Katsuki leaned forward and picked the notebook from the coffee table.

In neat handwriting, he finally saw his name.

Knock knock.

Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, burrowing his head deeper into his pillows in attempts to block the insistent knocking.

Knock knock knock.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki lifted his head and turned towards his door.

“Bakugou-san?” The voice came from the other side, muffled by the door.

Throwing the sheets off of his body, Katsuki jumped out of bed and stomped towards the door, ripping it open. Giving the grinning boy on the other side his best sneer, Katsuki resisted the urge to throttle him.

“Why the hell are you knocking on my door at—” Katsuki paused to turn and look at the digital clock Kirishima kept on his desk. “7:30 in the morning on a day off?”

“Because, we’re getting breakfast together.”

“Like hell we are.” Katsuki grumbled, turning away from him and walking back towards his bed. “Don’t you have any other friends to go annoy?”

“You’re my friend!” he crowed in a voice that was entirely too happy for such an early hour. “And everyone else is off-campus.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow and gave him an incredulous look. “Since when are we friends?”

“Since we bonded over All Might last night.” A sweet smile spread across his freckled face. “You can’t take it back.”

“Listen here shitty nerd,” Katsuki loudly began. “Just because I sort agreed with you on the genius that was the Impromptu Villains arc, doesn’t mean that we’re friends.”

The freckled boy only ignored his words, heading back towards the door. “I’ll be waiting in the common room.”

“Oi!” Katsuki yelled after him only to have the door shut.

“Little shithead.” The blond mumbled to himself, lifting himself off of his bed once more and dragging his feet towards his wardrobe to pick something to change into.

After pulling on a sweater and some jeans, Katsuki sleepily stuffed his wallet, keys, and phone into his pocket. He’d almost made it past his desk when he noticed the composition notebook he’d haphazardly tossed when he’d come back to his room the night before.

After a moment, he grabbed the notebook and made his way to the common room to see the little asshole that had decided to interrupt his slumber bouncing in his seat.

“You forgot this last night, Deku.” Katsuki practically shoved the notebook in his face.

“Deku?” The boy gave him a confused frown, lowering the notebook to his lap. Katsuki wordlessly pointed towards the front of the notebook in where his name was written on the front.

His green eyes lit up in understanding; he wasn’t the first person that had read his name as Deku. “It’s Izuku actually. Midoriya Izuku.” He laughed a little before his smile morphed into a small pout. “So that means you didn’t actually know my name.”

Katsuki let out a quick cough, bringing his hand up to scratch at his head. “Didn’t you say we’d be going out to breakfast? Hurry the fuck up—if I don’t get something in my stomach, I might have to destroy you.”

Izuku stood from his seat and led this way, all while mumbling, “I can’t believe you didn’t know my name. We shared a class.”

“Can it, Deku.”

“So, you’re an art major?” Izuku’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and his eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise.

“The fuck’s that look for?” Katsuki asked him around a mouthful of fluffy pancakes, pointing his fork at Izuku.

Izuku’s lips morphed into an impish smile, his shoulders rising into an exaggerated shrug. “You just don’t look very artsy. But now that I’m thinking about it, it kind of suits you—you’ve kind of got a brooding artist aesthetic going on.”

At his words, Katsuki’s scarlet eyes narrowed into a glare. “You’re goddamned lucky these pancakes are good or I’d of thrown my fork at your ugly mug.”

“Brooding and violent artist, I’m sorry.”

“You’re making it really fuckin’ easy to come to a decision to never speak to you again.”

Izuku giggled, bringing his mug of tea to his lips, shifting his already empty plate to the side. “Okay, okay, I’ll let you eat your pancakes now.”

Katsuki watched as Izuku slid the notebook he’d returned to him earlier closer to him, the green-haired boy opening the cover and flipping through the pages, almost as if he wanted to make sure its contents remained the same.

“What’s in that crap anyway?”

Izuku shut the cover of the notebook and looked up with almost startled eyes. “You didn’t look in it?”

Katsuki had admittedly been tempted to peek inside but had decided against it. As fucking awesome as his art was, he knew he wouldn’t be pleased had someone chosen to look into his sketchbook without his consent.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I had, shitty nerd.” 

Izuku pursed his lips, his gaze lowering to the table. His freckled cheeks flushed with color and he began playing with his fingers. “I-it’s uh, they’re poems. Poems that I write,”

“I’m a creative writing and literature double major.” Izuku continued, leaning his chin into his hand. “I kind of carry the notebook around with me everywhere in case inspiration hits.” 

Katsuki hummed before giving him a smirk. “I thought you might have been a history major.”

“Oh?”

“You’re the only idiot I’ve ever seen get so passionate in a history lecture.” 

At his words Izuku’s face turned bright red, an embarrassed smile. “It was an interesting class.”

Katsuki snorted and shook his head in disagreement. “It was awful. I spent most of it sleeping in the back.”

Izuku tsked him teasingly, his eyes shining with mirth. “Not a very good student.”

“Fuck you, I’m an amazing student.”

Izuku chortled at his response. After a moment, he directed a soft smile at Katsuki, his eyes earnest. “Thanks for having breakfast with me, Bakugou-san.”

Katsuki felt his chest constrict slightly, the tips of his ears growing hot. Biting his lip and averting his gaze, the blond let out an awkward cough. “Whatever, stupid Deku.” 

Katsuki hated to admit that the company wasn’t so bad. He could tolerate the nerd—even if he was weirdly passionate about a fictional superhero and forced him out of bed too early.

Ever since they’d had breakfast, Katsuki had seen Izuku nearly every day for the past week and a half.

Like clockwork, the green-haired, literature major would knock on his dorm room door at 8:30 in the morning—he’d explained to Katsuki that he was being nice and letting him sleep in an hour—in order to have breakfast again.

They’d then part ways, reuniting in the common room every evening, watching All Might re-runs until late into the night. 

Some afternoons, Katsuki would run into him at the local café, where he spent his time sketching or messing around on his laptop and they’d sit in companionable silence.

Other times, the companionable silence would turn into playful banter or long conversations about school, their friends, themselves.

Katsuki learned that Izuku’s favorite color was green, that when he was younger he’d dreamed of being a fireman, his favorite food was katsudon, and that he was incredibly close to his mother.

He was originally from Matsushima, a good ways away from Tokyo and the move from home had been hard on him, though he’d grown accustomed to the many changes that came with living away from home.

Izuku had also eagerly shared that Christmas was one of his favorite times of the year; every year, he and his mother would go out to pick a tree and decorate it together. They’d spend the afternoons baking and settle into their kotatsu for a night of television, nursing mugs of hot cocoa.

This would be Izuku’s first holiday season without her.

When Katsuki noticed the forlorn expression his face, he’d asked him why he’d chosen to stay on campus instead of going home and spending time with his mother.

“It’s a short break and I thought it’d be more economical to stay on campus this year.” Izuku explained, shrugging all while smiling sadly. “I’ll definitely go home our next break, though.”

Today though, had been the first morning that they hadn’t had breakfast together since the first time Izuku had knocked on Katsuki’s dorm room over a week ago. 

Katsuki, like clockwork, had risen early and had been waiting for the familiar knock on his dorm room door—a knock-knock-tap-knock that signaled Izuku’s arrival.

With a huff, Katsuki had picked his backpack off the floor, shoved in his laptop, and had grumpily trudged out of his residence hall and into freshly fallen snow, making his way to the café earlier than usual. 

He was definitely not disappointed because he wouldn’t be seeing him. He’d just really been looking forward to his pancakes.

“Excuse me,” Katsuki brought his gaze up from his laptop to look at one of the two baristas working that day standing in front of him. “It seems the snow outside will get worse soon so we’ll be closing the café early for the day.”

With one final bow, the barista walked back to the counter. 

Katsuki turned to look outside the café’s window to a flurry of snow falling rapidly. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, standing from his seat. He quickly shoved his belongings into his backpack and zipped up his jacket, ready to face the high windows outside.

He’d almost made it to campus when he heard a familiar voice call out behind him.

“Kacchan!”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Katsuki whirled around to see a bundled up Izuku grinning at him excitedly. His green curls were tucked into a woolly hat, a puffy yellow jacket zipped up to his chin, and green mittens protecting his hands. The tip of his button nose and his freckled cheeks were pink, nipped at by the frosty winds.

Cute motherfucker.

“Who the fuck are you calling Kacchan, nerd?” he ignored Izuku’s previous question, curling his upper lip into a snarl. 

“You,” Izuku continued, smile widening and emerald eyes twinkling in merriment. “You have a nickname for me, it’s only fair I have one for you.”

“You couldn’t have picked something less cute?”

“But Kacchan, you are cute.” Izuku giggled.

Katsuki froze for a moment, his stomach swooping at Izuku’s words. Blinking rapidly, the blond shook off his momentary shock, and growled. “I’ll fucking kill you, Deku.”

As Katsuki approached him threateningly, Izuku yelped. “Wait! If you’re going to kill me, let me set these down first.”

Katsuki hadn’t noticed that Izuku had two plastic bags wrapped around his wrists and carried a huge paper bag in one of his hands, the name of a nearby department store on the front.

Izuku waddled to a snow-covered bench and set his bags down carefully. Turning back towards Katsuki he shut his eyes tightly and opened his arms widely, as if he were ready to accept whatever came his way. “Okay. I’m ready. Do with me what you will.”

The corner of Katsuki’s lips pulled into a smirk of amusement. Bending down, he bunched up a wad of snow into his hands, ignoring the painful burn of cold against his skin. With wide steps, Katsuki walked towards Izuku, the snow crunching under his boots.

Izuku squirmed in place, seemingly in anticipation.

Without warning, Katsuki tossed the ball of snow in his hand at the green-haired boy, hitting him close to his face.

Izuku let out a loud gasp, his eyes popping open to face a now grinning Katsuki.

“That wasn’t very nice, Kacchan!” Izuku cried out, his mouth still gaping open. “That was cold!”

“Yeah, well I ain’t very nice, Deku.” Katsuki gave him a taunting smile. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

A smile grew on Izuku’s face as he leapt towards the ground and picked up a bunch of snow haphazardly flinging the bunch at Katsuki.

“You little shit!”

Izuku let out something between a strangled yelp and hysterical laughter, attempting to dodge Katsuki when the taller boy lurched towards him.

Katsuki felt himself smile at the sound of another yelp when his second snowball hit the green-haired boy in the face, this time not missing his target.

“I’ll get you, Kacchan!”

Stepping to the side in order to avoid one of Izuku’s snowballs, Katsuki, for the first time in a while, allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Katsuki let out a long sigh, resisting the urge to throw his sketchbook across his dorm room.

Ripping out the page he’d been sketching on, he balled it up and threw it in the bin underneath his desk.

After he’d gotten back from his impromptu snowball fight with Izuku, Katsuki had said goodbye to him and locked himself in his room in hopes of making progress with ideas on his Capstone project.

Although he’d worked diligently for a few hours, he hadn’t had much luck.

“Fuck it,” Katsuki muttered to himself, taking a quick peek at Kirishima’s digital clock.

12:23 AM

He slammed his sketchbook shut, tossing the pencil he’d been using back into the pencil case Kirishima had given him for his birthday the year before.

Lifting his tired body from his desk chair, the blond staggered over to his bed, dropping on it with a groan. Closing his eyes, Katsuki pressed his face deeper into his pillow; his consciousness ebbing away as sleep took over.

Crash, crash.

Katsuki’s scarlet eyes popped open, immediately awoken by the loud noise that despite being muffled had been enough to interrupt his slumber

“Oh, no!” A voice moaned from the common room, which was across from the hall from Katsuki’s dorm room.

With a sigh, Katsuki jumped from bed and stumbled his way to his door, opening it. His bare feet slapped against the cold linoleum floor as he made his way to the common room.

When he peered inside, he saw a familiar head of green-curls bent over what seemed to be broken Christmas tree ornaments, his fingers picking at multi-colored shards of glass.

On the common room coffee table was a bare, mini-sized Christmas tree.

“Oi, be careful, you idiot.” Katsuki barked at him, causing Izuku to jump slightly at his sudden voice.

Rushing forward, Katsuki knelt down beside him, and with a gentleness that was uncharacteristic of him, moved Izuku’s hands away. He cautiously began reaching for some shards himself, placing them into the plastic bag Izuku had been using. “What is all this shit?”

“I wanted to surprise you with a decorated tree in the morning,” Izuku frowned disappointedly at him, blowing out a frustrated breath. “But I tripped and everything shattered.”

Katsuki felt his heart lurch at the sight of his dispirited expression, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

“I can clean up the rest, Kacchan,” Izuku gave him a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry if I woke you with all the noise.

Katsuki watched him for a moment, concern in his eyes. “Oi, it’s fine, I can clean up the rest.” Letting out a small cough, Katsuki continued picking up shards. “Knowing your clumsy ass, I’d have to take you to the ER to get stitches if I let you near this mess any longer.”

Izuku let out a small laugh. “Thank you, Kacchan.”

“Yeah, s’whatever.” he muttered in response, lowering his gaze and concentrating on not cutting himself with the remaining shards.

As he tucked the last of the shards into the plastic bag, Katsuki hoisted himself upwards and looked towards Izuku again, his expression still downcast. 

Biting his lip, Katsuki rolled his eyes toward the ceiling before opening his mouth to speak. “Oi.”

“Hmm?” Izuku’s eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s, the blond’s voice seemingly bringing him back from his thoughts. 

“Get that stupid look off your face,” Katsuki reached down to grab his wrist softly, pulling Izuku to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Izuku followed behind him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna go make some fucking ornaments.” Katsuki answered his question, opening the door to his room, waiting for Izuku to enter.

Instead of going in, Izuku continued to stare at him with uncertainty. “Make ornaments?”

“Yeah,” The blond art major answered simply. “Do you have some yarn?”

For the first time since he’d walked into the common room that night, Izuku smiled that smile that could light up a room—the smile that made Katsuki’s insides flutter.

“Knitting just happens to be one of my favorite pastimes.” 

“Fucking nerd.” Katsuki snorted.

“Last one,” Izuku yawned into his hand looping a red string of yarn through the hole he’d punched on the paper ornament, clumsily typing a knot. He reached over and gently placed the ornament on the now fully decorated tree. “There.”

Izuku got to his feet and slightly stepped away to admire his and Katsuki’s hard work, the duo working into the morning, the sun now shining through the common room blinds.

They’d suffered through heavy eyelids, several paper cuts, and odd marker stains on their skin.

Coming up behind him, Katsuki nudged him gently, a small smirk on his face. “It looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Only because of your artistic talents,” Izuku gave him a shy grin. “Thanks, again, Kacchan.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes playful, the corner of his lips lifting into a more sincere smile. “Anything to have gotten that mopey look off your idiotic face.”

It was now Izuku’s turn to smirk, the green-haired boy giving Katsuki a teasing little look. “Oh? So he does care.”

“Don’t make me regret being nice to you.” Katsuki scowled at him, turning away and heading towards the couch.

With an exhausted groan, the blond slouched onto the cushions and closed his eyes, leaning his head back comfortably.

He felt the seat next to him dip with added weight and a searing yet comforting warmth at his side, Izuku having come to sit beside him. A moment later, he felt a pressure on his shoulder, hair tickling his chin.

“Oi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Not on me, shithead.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whined sleepily, sit still. “I’m sleepy.”

Ignoring the heat that rushed to his cheeks, Katsuki leaned back comfortably once more, allowing himself to relax.

“Kacchan?”

“What?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Katsuki let out a small laugh through his nose. “Merry Christmas, Deku.”

[jinjikook]

Our Dirty Little Secret (M)

word count: 7k

genre: smut ; high school AU

pairing: reader/yoongi (yoonji)

summary: typical new student AU; they’re in a new school and need a guide and you’re so graciously volunteered. though, there is something strange about that new girl, min yoonji. something you want to figure out. 

warning(s)/kink(s): cross dressing, slight feminization, pet names, a little spanking, rough oral sex, semi-public sex, protected sex, hair pulling, slight dirty talk

songs: my hump – black eyed peas ; bang bang - jessie j ; attention - charlie puth

masterlist

“Everyone, we have a new student today!” Your teacher beamed, the news of the new addition to the class being something akin to a night out for the boring homeroom teacher. As he spoke, the said student began to stroll in from the windowed door, clearly not half as excited as your teacher.

You and a handful of other students looked up, the rest engrossed in their own distractions or just simply not interested enough in the class to even realize the new face entering the class. While some of the guys murmured and exchanged pervacious glances, you could only hold your breath as you caught sight of the new student who was now standing next to your teacher, hands clasped behind her back as she swayed her weight between either foot.

“Her name is Yoonji and she’s just exchanged from the town over. Please be kind to her and if anyone is willing to give her a small tour around the campus, that’d be much appreciated.”

“But really not necessary.” Yoonji piped up, her voice a little lower and gravelly than you would’ve thought but it still didn’t take away from her natural charm, the glow of her skin skimming past where her inky black bangs would part on her forehead. A few chuckles resounded from her snide comment while a couple of the male students in the room volunteered to help her find her way around the school, though you already knew what their true intentions were.

Not like you were any different, being attracted to both males and females made it so even people like Yoonji looked just as appetizing as Hoseok or Namjoon.

Speaking of which, you already heard his booming voice from the back of the class, his dopey grin wide and stretching his cherub cheeks into his eyes. “Yoonji!! You can come sit next to me, I’ll help you catch up!”

You scoffed at the thought of your clueless classmate leading poor Yoonji through the class when he was already failing and barely paying attention as is.

“Oh please, like you’d do her any good,” Taehyung began, fixing his thick-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before continuing, “She needs a real student to help her out, someone who at least knows what was on the syllabus for the class. Hell, someone who knows what a syllabus is.” He stuck his nose up and quirked his head to the side, where a free seat was open next to him. “Take a seat Yoonji, I’ll be the one to help you out.”

Yoonji simply shrugged and made her way down the aisle, catching several eyes as she did. Including your own. Her skirt laid just above her knees and her black tights underneath were taut around her thin legs, though the obvious swell of her larger thighs were slightly visible from the peeks you caught as her skirts swayed with her hips. While she wasn’t inherently a stocky girl, she still had a delicate firmness to her that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Almost like she wouldn’t break like any other girl of her stature would.

She seated herself where Taehyung instructed, though indifferent all throughout. She clearly couldn’t care less about the boys fawning over her but it seemed to entertain her, if the small quirk of her lips meant anything.

Jeongguk turned from where he sat in front of her, only halfway so he wouldn’t give her the illusion that his full attention was on her, when in reality it most definitely was.

“Try not to hang out around Tae too much, you’ll catch a bad case of kiss ass.” He turned back just as quickly and that was the end of it, her waning attention span not even batting an eyelash at Jeongguk’s remark. Taehyung shrugged it off and began to pull his desk closer to hers, already pointing out things in his meticulously color-coded notes for her to read. As he sped past every line, barely stopping to breathe, Yoonji finally looked up from the notebook that was shoved into her face.

“Are those real?” Taehyung stopped mid-tangent and furrowed his brows, lips pursed as they held onto the last few vowels and consonants that were halted before they could spill out behind the others.

“Pardon?”

“Your glasses. Are they even real?” Taehyung pulled back, his face clearly had been a few inches too close to Yoonji’s and he straighten the collar of his school uniform, throat clearing uncomfortably.

He chuckled, trying to mask his anxiety at the raised question. “Of course they are. Why would I wear them if they weren’t—”

Yoonji reached over the minimal distance between them and snatched the frames straight off Taehyung’s face, inspecting them closely in her light and admittedly rugged hands. You watched from where you sat, just a seat back and over from Yoonji’s own, as her rather veiny hands and long digits poked past where glass would lay inside the frames. It confused you, how un-dainty Yoonji’s hands were. You hadn’t found them unattractive but it was just so odd for a small lady like herself to have such—for lack of a better term—manly hands.

“Where’s the glass then?” She looked over, bored and entertained simultaneously by the attention she had from Taehyung. He sputtered out some excuse about how there was a super thin glass layer supposedly in his frames, though everyone knew they were completely and utterly fake and the cheap plastic simply made Taehyung feel smarter than he already was.

She huffed a small chuckle at that, shaking her head and placed the false frames on her head, the black of the plastic blending in with her raven tresses. Taehyung looked at a loss for words and before he could even try to stutter out a word, she waved him off with one hand.

“Leave me alone, you bore me.” You stifled your own laugh at the pure savagery of this girl, already loving her moxy.  She was hot in terms of looks but this sassy and indifferent attitude only turned you on more, feeling just how dominant she was even at her laziest. It made you curious, craving to see what makes her tick, if you could make show any semblance of human emotion other than snide remarks and sarcasm.

Taehyung just meekly moved his desk back, Namjoon clapping him on the shoulder and offering his own encouragement even after the back-handed insult Taehyung had thrown at him earlier.

Hoseok tried to seduce the girl as well, trying to wax poetry but ended up spilling his water bottle on himself and making an even bigger fool of himself than he already was. The only good thing that came out of his attempt was how Yoonji tossed the remainder of his water at him, the liquid splashing and making the teacher exclaim at the mess she’d made.

“It was this kid’s fault, maybe he should learn how to quit while he’s ahead.” She shrugged off the teacher and watched in amusement as Hoseok fetched paper towels from the restroom to clean the water on and around Yoonji’s desk.

The remaining hour was uneventful after that, minus Seokjin trying to bribe Yoonji to go on a date with him and failing miserably. You enjoyed how she kept the rings he tossed at her though, it was funny to watch Seokjin try and ask for them back afterwards.

Almost too soon, the bell rang to signal the lunch hour, several guys making their way over to Yoonji’s desk to try and offer their own “helping” hands. Jimin pried his way through, stating how since he was class president, it should be him who shows the new girl around. But your teacher just about had enough of all these charades and he bellowed from his desk chair.

“Y/N! Please, help Yoonji out today. It seems some of your classmates don’t know the first thing about basic manners or how to stay tidy so please, for all our sakes, help her out.” You weren’t sure why you were his first choice but you weren’t about to punch a gifted horse in the mouth. Never bite the hand that feeds you, they say.

You nodded and looked over to where Yoonji was already looking in your direction, her dark and somewhat menacing stare bored into your own eyes. Something in them glimmered, mischief evident from the small smirk she had toying on her thin but still very kissable lips.

The boys had a resounding groan before shuffling out dejectedly, a few trying to spare a few words before realizing their chances were shot since Yoonji only had her eyes on you, oddly enough.

“I need to step out for a moment but please feel free to stay here while you go over her schedule and then you can show her around, Y/N.” Your teacher announced, grabbing his cell phone before leaving the classroom, were just Yoonji and yourself remained.

You weren’t sure where to start, getting up to go over to her and finding her stare slightly softer than before but still just as intimidating. But something in her eyes made you want to push her envelope, see if she was just as calm and collected as she seemed.

“So uh, my name is Y/N, I guess I’ll be helping you out?” You reached your hand out, figuring a handshake would be a simple enough gesture but Yoonji just stared at your outstretched hand until you awkwardly pulled it back once you realized she wasn’t going to return your sentiment. “So, your schedule?” Yoonji nodded and silently pulled out the pink slip from her bag, the motion causing a few hairs to fall in front of her face.

She placed the paper on the desk, quickly trying to remedy the hairs by tuck them behind her ears. It made you take notice that Taehyung’s glasses were still perched atop her head, sitting pretty on an even prettier person.

“You do know you still have Tae’s glasses, right?”

She nods, still indifferent as ever.

“I know. I’ll give them back when I feel like. Not like he actually needs them, they’re not even real.” You shake your head and focus on her schedule, reading on the classes she had and mentally mapping out her pathways between each period. This gave Yoonji the chance to size you up, eyes scrawling over your body as she inspected just who would be taking up her time.

“You’re cute, you know that?” You hadn’t expected to hear anything that wasn’t insulting or bored come from Yoonji’s mouth, certainly not a compliment in a tone that was slightly less monotone than usual. “How come the guys don’t drool over you like they did with me?”

You laughed at that, sitting on the surface of the desk next to Yoonji’s. “That’s ‘cuz I already turned half of them down and the rest of them think with their dick before their mind, and I’m certainly not what their dicks want.”

Yoonji shrugged, “I don’t know, you seem like something dicks would want.”

“What the fuck is this topic?” You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly once more at the conversation you suddenly were thrusted into with Yoonji. She let out a small chuckle herself, finally showing some genuine emotions before leaning back into her chair. Her clothed legs spread open, in a manner that you’re sure wouldn’t be classified as ladylike, especially not in the skirt the school uniform required you two to wear.

Unfortunately, the motion made you look down and Yoonji hadn’t missed your lapse in focus, licking her lips in a way one could only describe as “tantalizing”. She had this effect on you (and apparently the opposite sex as well) that made you throw coherent thoughts out the window, mind only filled with her name on repeat.

“Tell me, what do you think of me?” She cocked her head and lazily watched you as her hand came up to slowly—agonizingly so—unbutton the top few notches of her closed cardigan. It revealed the milky skin of her neck and the slight expanse of her chest; not exactly well-endowed but still lean enough to be seen as sexy.

You had to bite your lip to keep from saying something stupid, like blurting out just how hot you actually found her or how much you wanted to be bossed around by her right then and there.

“What do you care?” Was all you could muster, a tad strained from the false emotions you were trying to convey. It was almost obvious how you were trying to cover up your true feelings but Yoonji didn’t falter, her eyes still half lidded and dark as always.

“Humor me.”

Half of you wanted to keep your mouth shut, to just do what you were told by your teacher and get it over with so you could distance yourself from the mysterious yet tempting young woman in front of you.

The other half was dying to just say fuck it and admit how much you wanted to please Yoonji and follow her every order.

“You know what I think of you?” Yoonji began, her hands now fully opening her cardigan and giving you the sick pleasure of seeing her light gray bra silhouetting against the stark white of her crisp dress shirt. She shrugged the jacket off, sleeves bunching around her wrists before tugging it off completely and letting it drop to the ground by her feet. All you could manage was a deep gulp as you rose your shoulders in a way to prompt her to continue without you having to embarrass yourself with the lack of eloquence your words would undoubtedly have held.

“I think,” Her hands fall into the lap of her skirt, “you like me but you’re just too afraid to admit it. You don’t want to come off like the guys did but you know what makes you different from them?” Another shake of your head, slightly slack-jawed at her words already. “I might just like you back.”

“You… what now?” This time she laughed, full-on laughed, before gathering her wits and raking a hand through her hair. She was met with the frame of Taehyung’s glasses, prompting her to pick them off and inspect them for a half-second before deciding her disinterest and tossing them somewhere in the corner of the room, though your eyes failed to follow where they went because they were too busy being glued to Yoonji’s hands as she kneaded where her crotch lay under her skirt.

“You say those guys think with their dicks and that’s why they’re not interested in you but…” She trailed off, head hanging down to stare where her hands played, your own watching as something undoubtedly hard pressed against the fabric of her skirt. “Mine seems to be pretty peaked over you.”

This made your eyes widen, now your mind was truly blank.

Yoonji—the pretty, delicate, slightly stocky, man-handed new female student—was packing underneath her skirt? You couldn’t wrap your head around the concept, stuck staring as she continued to paw at herself, clearly growing harder as seconds passed.

“I don’t—I’m just—I don’t think I follow?” You tried to keep your voice from getting in its pitchy octaves that happened whenever you were surprised or caught off guard but god damn is it hard because you were seriously caught off-fucking-guard.

She (He?) could only chuckle, eyes dragging over your frame and you felt the need to hide, to cover yourself up from her scrutinizing stare.

“Don’t cover yourself up, I like what I see.” Yoonji murmured, her breaths coming slightly more labored now that she was working herself up. Quite literally.

“I just don’t understand, you’re—”

“A guy, yes. But it’s fun to play the pretty girl once and a while and these brainless boys fall for it every single time. Truth is, my name is actually Yoongi but they messed it up once and thought I was a girl, had set me up as a female in the system and everything. I thought it’d be more fun to play the role than just correct them. I was right.” He smirked and you couldn’t help but find it twice as attractive, something so taboo as this little game he was playing making you grow wetter than you already were.

“So… What do I call you?” You asked, not knowing if you were allowed to call him his birth name or his character’s. Yoongi(Yoonji?) shrugged at first, before pausing to think. His eyes scanned the classroom for a moment, eyes catching the door before meeting yours once more, something darker in his already inky eyes swirling past the obvious lust and present attraction.

“Just call me baby, though it’ll be hard to call me anything when you’ve got your mouth full.” His teeth came out to play, the small white smile making you feel both comfortably warm and way too hot at the same time.

You needed to hold your own, otherwise Yoongi would win this battle and make the waves of desire crash over you until you could see nothing but the swirling ripples of your lust. So you crossed your arms across your chest, though cautious not to brush over where your nipples were no doubt hard under your bra. Standing tall—albeit a little stiff—you clear your throat and hope your voice doesn’t feel as jelly-like as your kneecaps do.

“What makes you think I’ll have anything in my mouth?”

He smirked, a small puff of air escaping his nostrils before looking away. He was amused, finding your mock indifference cute and an all-too crumbly façade that he was excited to break.

“Would you rather I just fuck you brainless then?”

Your breath got caught in your throat, rather violently, and you were forced to cough, the oxygen burning your lungs with every hack. Yoongi just sat there, chuckling at your dilemma and his shoulder bounced as he laughed.

“Like I said: you’re cute. And clearly very interesting to my dick,” He pointed his gaze downward and moved his veiny hands to reveal the tall tent of his crotch, the skirt raised high enough by the bulge to expose more of his thighs, the musculature there now making more sense to you with the newfound knowledge of who he really is. “C’mon Y/N, venture a taste?”

Every rational thought in your mind should’ve been screaming no at the top of their lungs, red sirens and flashing lights prompting you to stop what you were doing and leave while you could, save yourself from the indignity of sucking off the new student just an hour after meeting them.

Fortunately for Yoongi, every thought—rational or not—had already flown the coop, your mind surprisingly blank save for the thought of how hard Yoongi was, how sexy he sounded with a lusty rasp and edge to his now clearly deeper voice (having given up the higher pitched charade long ago) and how heavy and heady he’d taste on your tongue.

Not wasting another second; seeing as you’d wasted plenty already denying yourself the sweet flavor of Yoongi, you dropped to your knees and crawled under the wooden desk, settling in between the polished Mary Janes buckled onto Yoongi’s feet.

His hands were the only things visible, looking much more tempting now that they weren’t twirling black locks of hair or toying with the feelings of your classmates. Your eyes dropped down to where you could now clearly see his lap, uncensored and unadulterated.

The black leggings he’d worn under his skirt seemed like a something a normal schoolgirl would do when she wanted to be modest and keep from unwanted peeks whenever she’d bend over or the wind blew a little stronger than normal, but now it was obvious that it was just a precautionary measure to keep his cover from being blown. His length was nothing to joke about and no doubt would it be hard to hide with small, feminine shorts or—god forbid—panties. Let alone wearing men’s briefs or boxers and running the risk of the pants being seen from the lecherous eyes of your peers.

His voice was slightly muffled from the barrier of his desk but you could still hear how his low voice enunciated his words, the slow drawl of his tongue dragging over your body in several steamy passes as you tried to contain your excitement from the position you were put in.

“We don’t have time to waste Y/N; be a good girl and suck me off.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, not knowing when your teacher would return from wherever he went or worse: being caught by students coming in from their lunch break as you extend your little session long past the bell signaling the next period to begin.

Reaching up, you contemplate tugging off Yoongi’s skirt or at least pulling it up high enough to give you room to work but you decide against either, liking the filthy thought of being under his skirt as you took his cock into your mouth. You begin to knead at his length under the midnight leggings, feeling just how hard and hot he’d worked himself up to. Yoongi let out a telltale groan, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the edge of his seat. The position was neither comfortable nor desirable but you couldn’t help but feel turned on at just how depraved you must look; something straight out of a B-list porno minus the male role crossdressing.

(Though, the world was changing and things could go in any direction so that last bit might just be more common than you thought.)

It only took a second for your hands to find the taut waistband of his leggings from the dark confines of his skirt, slowly tugging down the offending garment to reveal more of Yoongi’s skin to you. Your breath stifled as you caught sight of what lay underneath: a pair of light gray panties with a small pink lace trim at the waistband.

You wanted to pull your head out from under Yoongi’s skirt to question just how deep he usually goes into his role but the feeling of his strong hands at your scalp stopped you, seeming like Yoongi already knew you’d be curious but had no time for questions at the moment.

His cock was barely underneath the creamy gray of his underwear, most of it already standing too proudly to be held down by the fabric. The sight of his reddening head leaking pre come over the waistband made your mouth water and you barely suppressed the urge to suck him off over whatever was still in his panties as you slipped your fingers under the lace and yanked it down harsh enough to almost tear it off his defined legs. Once truly freed, Yoongi exhaled and let his head roll back as his length now fully sprung free from his panty prison.

“Not enough time for you to tease c’mon,” Yoongi urged you forward with a partially gently tug of your hair, putting your mouth just over his leaking cock. Your lips hovered over him, breath fanning over his sensitive head and making the muscle twitch and jump to tap at your mouth. One hand gripped his base while your tongue darted out, taking Yoongi’s advice and digging your tongue in his slit right away to get the show started.

Yoongi hadn’t expected you to be so sudden or rough but he wasn’t going to complain, a low moan torn from his throat at the feeling of both your hand and tongue on him. Soon enough, you had his head suckled into your mouth, lips wrapped taut past the tip as your tongue brushed the underside. You tried to trace the prominent vein underneath with the very tip of your tongue, a shy touch to keep Yoongi on edge but he wasn’t ready for any teasing games. With the first brush of your tongue he had tightened his grip in your hair and forced you down more, giving you no choice but to forego the motion altogether to put your focus in bobbing up and down his cock instead.

You simply let your tongue stay plastered against his length as you moved on his dick, the wet muscle providing extra slide for you to move faster and suck harder. Yoongi would encourage you with his digits pressing harder into your scalp, just along the edge of pain but still warm and pleasurable enough to make your other hand that wasn’t currently on Yoongi drift towards your own skirt.

Had Yoongi been able to see you, he would’ve punished you for touching yourself; make you wait ‘till he could get his own hands on you. But he was not only too engrossed in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, he also had the unfortunate barrier of his desk keeping him from seeing you. It was both a blessing and a curse since you too wanted to see the effect you had on the other.

As you continued to suck lewdly along his cock, you finally gave into the sweet pleasure of your own touch, placing pressure where you needed it most. Despite not being able to see you, it was unmistakable how you gasped around him, indicating exactly what you were doing. In retaliation, Yoongi tightened his fist in your hair and made you take more of him in, effectively cutting off your small whimpers and moans as he forced his cock down to your throat. All you could muster were filthy, wet noises that only spurred Yoongi on further. He hissed at both the sounds and sensations of you deep throating him so well, taking him in without faltering even as his punishing grip seemed to get tighter.

You figured he was getting tighter because of your noises, in order to punish you, but then you heard the sound of the door of the class clicking shut and you tensed around Yoongi, trying to not make a peep as hard as that may be with a dick in your throat.

“Ah Yoonji, you’re still here! Where did Y/N run off to? Don’t tell me she left you abandoned and lost?” It was your teacher, and you wanted nothing more than to pull off Yoongi and curl up into a ball until he magically disappeared. But Yoongi had other plans as he kept you firmly on him, not letting up as his voice rumbled from the other side of the desk.

“She had to use the restroom, she said she’d be back shortly. I hope you don’t mind us being in here, sir.” His false female voice was back, something that should turn you off but if anything it makes your eyes roll back further into your head as your fingers place more pressure on your aching core. His cock twitched in your mouth and you semi-coherently remembered to keep your noises from coming out, in hopes to not get caught by your teacher with your mouth full and no real explanation as to why you were on your knees under Yoonji’s desk.

“Oh well, in that case shall I lock the door? I don’t have a 5th period class and I was going to take the opportunity to head down and make some copies of worksheets. I trust Y/N and I’m sure you’re in good hands with her.” Yoongi let out a little titter, something akin to a giggle, as his fist tightened and you suppressed the need to gag, knowing the sound would be loud in the otherwise pin-drop quiet room.

“That’d be wonderful, we wouldn’t want to get… distracted.” He mused as you struggled to keep from making noise or squirming, a difficult feat indeed.

Your teacher nodded and grabbed a couple of files and a large cardboard box, probably to hold the copies he needs, before waving goodbye and letting himself out; none the wiser about his star student currently fighting back tears from the steady lack of oxygen getting to her lungs all because there was a phallic-shaped intrusion blocking her airways.

He finally lets up, allowing his cock to slide from your mouth and out with a lewd pop. You gasped for breath, taking in heady gulps of air as if you weren’t sure when you’d breathe so freely again.

Yoongi pushed his seat back a little to peer down at you from above the desk, eyes concerned at your condition. You were a little red in the face, hot and flushed with watery eyes to compliment the look. It was the ultimate debauched slut package, complete with the saliva stringing between your slick-shiny lips and Yoongi’s angry red cock.

“You doing okay, doll?” His gravelly voice returned, clearly showing how affected he was by your mouth. You nodded once as you cleared the remaining saliva that pooled in your throat, coughing into your fist to dislodge whatever fluid blocked your airways.

“Well in that case, I say we move on to have a little more… fun.”

You looked up incredulously, not knowing how much further Yoongi could possibly take this but the predator-like grin that stretched across his face much like a hungry lion made you quiver where you knelt under his desk.

Next thing you know, you’re being yanked out from underneath and your cheek met the cold wood you could only identify as the cubbies that were at the back of the class, where students held their textbooks and other supplies that never needed to leave the classroom.

Yoongi’s forceful hand was at the back of your neck, keeping you against the shelves as you felt your own skirt being lifted and the shorts you wore underneath being tugged down, though not your underwear. He instead admired your nearly bare rear at first, watching in satisfaction as you wiggled in his grip out of sheer frustration, the sudden halt in motion making you desperate for any kind of contact. Finally, he delivered a harsh blow to one cheek, the action making you hiss out of both surprise and pain, and admittedly a little bit of pleasure.

“Now baby, as much as I’d love to hear you scream my name like you damn well should, we can’t have people poking their noses in our business and exposing my dirty little secret, huh?” Before you could even process what he was saying, Yoongi had slapped one hand over your mouth to keep from any noises from escaping as the other deftly pulled your panties to the side and dipped two digits directly in. It was good that he had muzzled you because the desperate whine that left your maw from his skillful fingers would’ve certainly alerted someone out in the halls, be it a wandering student or just an overly attentive staff member of the school.

Two became three much too quickly, his long-long-long fingers feeling like they could reach every spot inside of you, despite the inaccuracy of that. You knew you were biting on Yoongi’s palm but you couldn’t help the reaction from how he managed to brush against all the sensitive spots inside of you, ones you never even knew you had.

His mouth was running, something along the lines of how hard you made him and how good you feel around his fingers; how good you’ll feel around his cock. All you could do was whimper helplessly in response, hoping that the passes of your tongue on his salty, sweaty palm could translate into how bad you wanted that.

It seems like Yoongi is fluent in tongues, because there was his cock, up against your entrance. But you had to stop, screaming against his palm in hopes to get him to quit before he completed entering you. Luckily, Yoongi stopped immediately, his palm coming away so fast it looked like you burned him.

“What, what is it?” His eyes scanned you all over, wondering if he’d hurt you or you just didn’t want to go through with it any longer. “If you don’t want me to put it in, we can stop or… or I could just fuck your thighs or something, it’s no big deal—”

“Yoongi shut up.” His mouth snaps shut at the sight of you turning over your shoulder, mouth slightly smeared with your tinted chapstick that got smudged with the aid of Yoongi’s palm. Still bent over, open and pliant as ever. “I just don’t wanna end up on those terrible reality shows, where I raise an infant in my youth.”

It took a second for Yoongi to understand, a little slow on the uptake based on how shook up he was from you scaring him half to death along with how most of the blood in his body was most definitely not going anywhere near his brain—though it was flushing his other head a pretty red against your ass still.

“Holy shit, next time just say use a condom. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, thinking you didn’t want this anymore or something.”

You apologized with a smile, remaining in the same position as Yoongi shuffled behind you before returning with a foil packet, a purple color.

“Purple is a sign of regality, did you know that?” You began, light banter flowing easily despite your very compromising position.

“Is it? I just picked these because they’re supposed to be virtually invisible. Plus my friend Kihyun said he saw a commercial of them and followed the link to get some coupons for them so… cheap.”

“I don’t think I like the idea of the one thing that’s supposed to keep me from getting a sexually transmitted disease or a sexually transmitted mistake being either thin or cheap.” Both of you laughed and Yoongi stood by your side to show how he slid on the condom, taking a little more time as he secured it because the feeling of his grip around his swollen length just felt a little too good.

“Don’t worry doll, I always use the best. These bad boys are pretty good, minus the embarrassing fact that I used coupons for fucking condoms.” Yoongi shrugged and sighed, smiling at your obvious amusement. “Hey, don’t laugh or I’ll leave you high and dry,” One look at your exposed rear before raising an eyebrow and turning back to your face. “Or not-so-dry.”

And just like that, you were back where you left off: Yoongi’s hand braced against your mouth and his tip brushing against your core, glistening with your desire as he rubbed on the folds before delving deep. You held your breath at the intrusion, eyes scrunched tight as you gritted through the pain and uncomfortable fullness. Yoongi bottomed out, having held in his own breath and exhaling deeply once he was sheathed all the way inside you. He could feel your teeth gnawing on your lip behind his hand and his other hand that had originally helped guide his length inside you was now on your hip, drawing circles and figure eights there in hopes to get you more comfortable faster.

“Good?” His voice rasped, affected by your tight velvet around him. You planned on using words, really, but then his hips twitched ever so slightly and he brushed against you in a spot that made you whimper, high and weak. And it broke Yoongi.

He pulled out and slammed back in, showing no mercy as he reveled in your walls clenching around him just right. You held on tight to the shelving, fingernails ineffectively trying to anchor you down as his thrusts moved you forward and back. His hand stayed on your mouth for a little bit, muffling your moans and screams but soon he needed more and brought the hand down to join the other at your hips, a bruising grip that hurt so bad it flipped around and ended up feeling great.

Yoongi wasn’t necessarily loud, but his body definitely was. The sounds of sex filled the room, the point of muzzling you basically null and void since anyone with half a brain cell could hear the sound of Yoongi’s hips smacking against your ass with every thrust and immediately know what was happening behind closed doors.

Despite all this, you still gnawed on your bottom lip in hopes to keep your noises at bay, whimpering helplessly as Yoongi used you like the bitch you never admitted you wanted to be.

The tightening in your stomach got stronger, the urge, the very pull inside of you threading a petite needle and making your walls clench in anticipation of the impending orgasm to come. Yoongi seemed to feel the same tugging in his own gut, his thrusts losing rhythm as he made it his life’s plan to fuck into you as deep and as hard as he possibly could with every forward motion. It made you scrabble for purchase on the cubbies, the books in the slots clattering around loudly from all the motion you and Yoongi were making against it.

“Fuck doll, I’m gonna come. Please tell me you’re close,” Yoongi was breathing harshly, panting against your shoulder blades as he hips continued their assault on your lower body. When you hadn’t directly responded him, Yoongi reached forward and laced his fingers in your hair, tugging you back far enough to arch your back. “I asked you a question love, and I expect an answer.” For someone who was painfully close to losing his load, Yoongi had a surprisingly steady voice when he spoke in his dominating nature.

“Y-yes, okay? I’m gonna come if you just don’t stop.” You whined and dropped your head down once Yoongi released your hair, his hands going back to where he’d bruised your hips earlier. He smirked smugly at how he had you and fucked you with all his power, balls slapping against your rear so loud it made your ears hurt just from hearing it.

With a final push and a two fingers sneaking under your top to rub at a nipple, you came embarrassingly loud. Riding out the waves of your orgasm, Yoongi succumbed to his own pleasure and sunk beneath the waves as well as the feeling of your tight walls getting even tighter around him made him just about lose his goddamn mind.  

He stayed inside you for a couple of minutes, the two of you needing to catch your breath before even thinking about doing anything else. After a beat, Yoongi slipped out and steadied you with a hand, giving up his own comfort—or lack thereof—to help you stay strong on your legs for a minute as you slipped your shorts back up and made sure to fix your underwear to cover you properly once more. After being guided into a seat, the cold metal sending tingles up your spine as the chair made contact with your slightly sore and hot flesh, Yoongi finally took a second to slip the condom off and clean himself up enough to tuck back into his costume.

“So, believe me now that guys definitely are interested in you?” Yoongi smirked and you laughed incredulously at him.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Yoongi could only chuckle in response, taking a seat on the desk next to you as he eyed you and the afterglow that made you shine like a halo was looped over your head.

“Okay… so what is it from here? Just keep this quiet and fuck on the DL or…?” You had to ask, not being able to stave off the gnawing curiosity at the odd situation you were put in.

“It’s simple: keep your pretty mouth shut or I’ll do it for you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Pinky swear.” He outstretched his pinky finger and you had to link them, for comedic effect of course.

“Alright so, show me the campus now?”

“Sure thing… Yoonji.”

[drades-lair]

Search and rescue

Author: Drade666

Rating: G

Pairings: Gabriel x OC

Fandom: Supernatural

The dark room radiated with the irritating blaring of a digital alarm clock that shown it’s red numbers in the darkness that blinked each time the alarm went off. Sam gave a groan of protest as his blurry vision slowly came clear revealing that the clock said 7AM before he hit the off button for the alarm. Slowly Sam rolled out of bed with his long hair a complete mess, sticking out in every direction as he headed out of his room in the men of letters heading towards the kitchen where he was to meet everyone. Dean was sitting in the kitchen already with a paper reading while breakfast was cooking on the stove in a pan, bacon, eggs and toast was already in the toaster however the only thing Sam honed in on was the coffee brewing in the coffee pot across the room. Dean gave a chuckle as Sam passed him with a loud yawn before grabbing a mug out of the cabinet over the counter where the coffee pot was. Just as Sam was pouring the wonderful brown liquid into the mug Drade entered the kitchen with a slightly perpleThe dark room radiated with the irritating blaring of a digital “Morning boys...have you seen Gabriel?” Drade immediately asked as she headed over to the pan filled with bacon to flip it, making it crackle loudly. “Nope, why?” Dean asked in return but didn’t really put his paper down “I woke up this morning and he wasn’t next to me...haven’t seen him yet,” Drade answered as the perplexed look on her face only became more intense. “On a case maybe...or halo duty?” Sam suggested now heading to the table with his fresh mug of coffee tightly clamped in hand. “I don’t think so...normally he’d at least say goodbye,” Drade explained as she finished the breakfast up. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sam stated “Yeah, he’ll turn up,” Dean agreed going back to his paper Drade shrugged then served up the breakfast in the pan on to two plates that she promptly placed in front of both boys before settling down in a third chair with a cup of coffee. Drade’s concern didn’t leave her though even as she went about her day, reading over texts for the boys and searching out various ingredients for several spells they needed. By the time night fell Drade’s worry had reached a high point especially seeing as Gabe hadn’t even contacted her once all day to say hi or just to let her know he was okay thus she began looking for anything that would tell her what he was doing or where he’d gone too. After digging around Drade eventually found out that Gabe was tracking a faction of angels who were seeking Lucifer for revenge purposes, Michael loyalists of course but it pissed Drade off that Gabriel hadn’t said anything to her at all or to anyone else once he’d found the faction. Drade’s hacking skills managed to find several footnotes on the her laptop relating to Gabriel tracking down the faDrade shrugged then served up the breakfast in the pan on to two plates that she promptly placed in front of b An hour from the men of letters... Charlie strode down the sidewalk towards a small comic book shop that she’d discovered during her many trips here while visiting the boys at the men of letters. Charlie planned on paying a surprise visit to the boys but first wanted to drop by the comic shop to purchase some much wanted collectables, skipping along as she listened to music on her Iphone that is until something caught her eye. Charlie stopped for a moment unsure of what she’d just seen but even though it was just a glimpse out of the corner of her eye it was enough to draw Charlies attention into a nearby ally. After turning off her music and pulling her headphones down around her neck Charlie headed into the ally making certain to be as quiet as possible as she tip toed around garbage making disgusted faces as she did so. As Charlie rounded a small corner near an open parking area at the end of the ally she caught sight of a very unexpected scene happening, several men standing around in a semi circle while another man with dirty blonde hair Charlie strode down the sidewalk towards a small comic book shop that she’d discovered during her many trips here while visiting the boys at the men of letters. Charlie planned on paying a surprise visit to the boys but first wanted to drop by the comic shop to purchase some “Just talk!” One of the men in the semi circle barked suddenly “Eat me! Dick bag!” The man with the dirty blonde hair barked back “Why do you persist? We know you two were close but he is a traitor!” The same man continued “He isn’t! You all just refuse to see the truth! I will defend my brother...unlike any of you!” The pinned man barked again Another man in the semi circle suddenly struck the pinned man making him wince in pain with a  groan. Charlie winced as the sound of flesh on flesh radiated through the air it also allowed her to catch a glimpse of a silver blade in each of the hands of the men in the semi circle. Another man came up beside the pinned man to begin hitting him with the other man, combining kicks with punches as the pinned man squirmed to get away to little avail. Suddenly the man on the left pulled his blade on the pinned man, pressing it against his neck. “Tell us,” The man insisted “Never!” Gritted out the pinned man “You stupid...fine!” The man with the blade growled as he pressed his blade just enough to lightly cut the pinned man’s skin making him hiss out in pain. The man stood up to walk back to the semi circle of other men, giving them a head nod. “We’ll let you sit in your own juices for a while see if you feel like talking then,” The man scoffed as the entire group started to leave. Charlie stayed out of sight for a few more minutes, watching as the pinned man took some deep breaths that seemed a little shaky but ultimately he appeared calm considering what he’d been through. Charlie took a deep breath before running out of her hiding place straight for the man on the ground instantly gaining his attention upon her crouching next to him. “What...who are you?” The man asked looking highly confused yet slightly suspicious of Charlie.   “My name is Charlie, just give me a minute,” Charlie introduced as she checked out the metal holding the mans hands over his head. “Wait...not Charlie Bradbury?” The man asked causing Charlie to furrow her brow in confusion at him. “Yeah...how did you...?” Charlie trailed off “Never mind...just hurry!” The man encouraged referring to her freeing him “Okay, right” Charlie agreed as she went back to the metal however upon inspecting it was clear she couldn’t free him as is. Charlie looked around for a brief moment catching sight of a piece of straight metal nearby. Grabbing the metal piece Charlie tried to use it as a pry bar in an attempt to free the trapped mans hands managing to pry it just enough to allow the man to slip free with a groan of pain. The man began rubbing his wrists that were red with gashes from being pinned in such a crude manner then he tried to stand but fell as soon as he tried to get to his feet. Charlie managed to get hold of him then helped him up, slinging his arm over her shoulders to help him up then got him to her vehicle waiting on the street before the group could get back. Charlie hopped into the front drivers seat, put the keys in the ignition then looked to him. “Well...um...where too?” Charlie asked “The bunker...I need to make a call...ugh,” The man groaned as he pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. “Okay...as in...the men of letters bunker?” Charlie asked already heading in that direction. “Yep,” The man confirmed as he sent a text ~*~ Charlie skidded her car to a halt out side the men of letters front door barely getting it in park before jumping from the driver side seat. Charlie slung open the passenger side door but the man was partially unconscious by now making it nearly impossible for her to haul him out thus she ran full speed to the front door, banging on it as hard as possible until it flung open. A startled Sam was now standing in the doorway as Charlie panted heavily but still tried to get out the words until suddenly they were both pushed out of the way by Drade who plowed passed them. “Gabriel! Gabe!” Drade called out as she headed for Charlie’s car with Sam as well as Charlie herself hot on her tale. Drade leaned down to get a better look at Gabriel, cradling his cheek in her hand while checking his pulse with the other, pressing two fingers to his jugular. Gabriel gave a shaky cough as he opened his eyes with that cheeky smile crossing his face despite being beat all to hell. “H-hey...babe...” Gabriel rasped out “Sshh, stay quiet, Boys! Help me!” Drade called over her shoulder Sam instantly stepped in helping get Gabriel out of the car then into the bunker’s sick bay. Charlie stayed back while they got him into the sick bay where Drade started fawning immediately over Gabriel. Although confused Charlie decided to wait until everything calmed down a little before asking what was going on. Sam was settled in the bunkers library reading over something on his laptop when Charlie entered, shuffling slightly as she approached the youngest Winchester. “So...can I get the backstage pass here or not?” Charlie asked “Oh right, sorry Charlie...everything just happened so fast. Here let me explain.” Sam offered patting the chair next to him. Charlie took the seat to allow Sam to begin the story about who she’d just saved and who he was to Drade. “Whoa...so Drade hooked up with an archangel? That’s so boss! Not to mention she has to have a pretty big set to cross that line,” Charlie stated with her usual smile on her face. “Hmm, well Drade doesn’t believe in lines,” Sam stated with a chuckle “Apparently,” Charlie chuckled back. Sam slid his eyes back towards his laptop momentarily before bringing them back to meet Charlie’s. “They do love each other,” Sam commented “Statement or question?” Charlie wondered “Oh definitely statement...there’s no question there,” Sam huffed a laugh with a smile. “What’s up my peeps?” Gabriel chimed as he entered the library, skipping up the stairs looking a little worse for ware but ultimately back to himself. “Oh! Wow...um...hi, I feel like I should kneel or something,” Charlie babbled as she stood up from the seat she was sitting in. “Come on, I’m anything but formal,” Gabriel chuckled as Drade came up behind him. “Hey, I told you to stay put for a while till you healed,” Drade scolded the archangel. “And I told you that I’m good babe,” Gabriel stated with a smile looking up at Drade who leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. Charlie gave another slight smile at the two of them before speaking again. “So...what now?” Charlie wondered “The angel’s are on the group that captured Gabriel, they’ll see them taken care of properly,” Drade assured her “Oh, I see...well, that’s good then...um...” Charlie trailed off awkwardly causing Drade to chuckle. “You must have questions...come, lets talk,” Drade offered, taking Charlie’s arm to guide her towards the kitchen where they could talk. “Nice girl” Gabriel commented “Yep, you have no idea,” Sam commented back lovingly

[finrays]

GOOD MORNING, MOM