#started this last night after my exam as a reward for failing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

extravaguk · 3 years

Text

sex education 2.0

pairing: college!au, jungkook x reader

summary: "Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah."

wordcount: 9k

genre: smut - angst(? not rlly - fluff, like tons bc im a slut for fluff

rated: m (duh!2.0)

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, just jk and tae being bros having bro convos, switch!reader, switch!jk, but mostly dom!jk, dirty talk, glimpses of poorly written bdsm, reader being a jealous and ‘insecure little bitch’ (her words, not mine),slapping (dont worry i tried to make it funny), how i met your mother spoilers (sorry im a gemini i spoil shit), spanking, degradation kink, back at it again with the spit kink, slight anal play, beware!of jungkook being a sweetheart, a lil mean at the end but a sweetheart nontheless.

read sex education here!

Three months of being in an actual commitment with Jeon Jungkook, your brother's partner in crime since the young age of five and, therefore, a common denominator throughout your childhood and teenage years, has proven to you a few things you never knew you would discover about the boy himself: Jeon Jungkook is definitely not what you thought him to be.

You thought growing up with him would've been enough telltale about everything that made Jungkook be, well, Jungkook. He wasn't as immature as you had believed prior to the beginning of your relationship, he was funnier than you remembered -although maybe you found him funnier now that Taehyung wasn't in the picture to interfere with infantile inside jokes that you never were able to grasp-, and smarter than he had ever let you known before. Although you're sure the main reason his grades had started to improve was solely you and the way you rewarded him by opening your legs everytime he passed an exam.

But above all, if there was something that had truly surprised you about Jeon Jungkook was the fact that he was truly an absolutely and undeniably softie.

You loved it. Loved the random scribbled love notes he sometimes left in your backpack before kissing you goodbye to leave for his own class, loved the Spotify playlists he made exclusively just for you -with genres that varied between sappy and romantic and wanting to tear your 'wet ass pussy' in two-, loved the late night texts filled with emojis telling you how much he missed you when both of you were too busy doing assignments and studying to see each other -even if it hadn't even been 48 hours since you last saw each other-. You loved how careful and sweet and thoughtful he was. You really did.

But.

"Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah." His mouth falls open and you supress a laugh. You really shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but there's something about Jungkook's reaction to his ego being bruised and that terribly adorable pout on his face that just makes your insides tingle with joy.

"What do you mean? I've had plenty of girls in bed before you, like a whole lot, and none of them have ever called me boring! They loved this adventurous and fun dick, alright? Why do you think-" you raise a brow, scrutinizingly. It still amazes you how with just a simple expression and no words needed, you can make all color from Jungkook's face banish and how quick he is to reach for your hand across his bed. "But I only love youuuu, and you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and my dick like, baby, have I mentioned how head over heels I'm for you?"

"Only like five times today." rolling your eyes again, you pull your hand from his to toy with the peperoni piece on your slice of pizza. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, he was starting to get truly concerned now. You couldn't possibly...?

"Are you not satisfied? I mean, do I not make you feel good or...?" there's clear worry in his voice and that makes you meet his eyes, shaking your head hurriedly. Now it's you who take his hand in yours.

"No! No, babe. I love sex with you! I love everything you do to me, I love how you treat me, I love how you make me feel. I'm a hundred percent satisfied, I swear, It's just..." you sigh, dropping your gaze to rub slow and reassuring circles to the ink adorning his skin. "All I'm saying is... I may also want to experience what all those girls have experienced with you, y'know... the not so vanilla stuff. But you always seem to be scared to try new things with me, and I don't know if it's because of m-"

"Baby," Jungkooks soft voice calls out to you, removing the pizza box in between the two of you to slide closer to you on the mattress. He craddles your face with his fingers, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. "_____, don't say that. I just don't ever want to cross any boundaries. I don't want to hurt you or do anything you might not like or regret later, you know that, right?" placing a small kiss on your lips, you hum in content nodding your head yes.

"I know that." you pull him for another brief kiss, oddly not caring about the faint taste of garlic and spice on them because that's what love will do to you. "But what if I do want you to hurt me? What if I want you to fuck my mouth with no mercy until I cry and slap my face after you've cum all over it while you call me a slut?" you pause, eyes meeting his through your eyelashes. "Or viceversa."

It's not that Jungkook is afraid. Because Jungkook is afraid of nothing in this world. He will murder any spider in his way, he will throw a punch to anyone who denies mint chocolate ice cream as the superior ice cream flavour -and he knows that means he will have to literally fight like the entire population on planet earth-, and he will Rey Mysterio you if you ever discredit or deny his incredible skills playing Overwatch.

Jeon Jungkook prides himself in being fearless in every aspect of his life. Except when it comes to you.

So yeah, maybe he was a little afraid. Because hearing you use the words 'choke', 'slap' and 'slut' in the same sentence did things to him that he didn't deem possible considering none of you were newbies anymore to intimicy. You have been together for three months, for God's sake, but you still made his cock twitch like the first day and he's sure in twenty years you'll have the exact same effect on him.

He didn't want his most primal instincts to overpower the respect and love he'd harboured for you since you were kids because at the end of the day, one, you were still his best friend's little sister, two, he appreciated you too much to ever cross any lines, and three, as cliché as it sounded, you were nothing compared to the girls he had been with previously. What he feels towards you cannot be compared to anything he had experienced before.

And fuck, was he in a predicament. Because you made him weak in his knees for you and you were not even aware of it. You were not aware of how badly he has wanted to explore and take things way further, way out of both his and your comfort zones. But he's terrified. He's terrified because all he wants is to to take care of you and what if he fails at the one thing he's swore to himself? What if he lets the darkest side of him consume him and at the same time consume you? What if he does actually hurt you, not just psichologically but also physically?

He would never be able to forgive himself. And neither could Taehyung.

And that, was also tormenting him.

Taehyung seemed fine with the two of you dating -or at least that blow to Jungkook's face seemed to ease things between them-, but Jungkook is not dumb and has felt his best friend slowly distancing himself.

Sure, they were still best friends and will ever will. Taehyung is loyal to Jungkook and Jungkook is loyal to Taehyung. Has been that way since they were five and that will not change just because Jungkook's caught feelings for his little sister.

But the phonecalls were not as often and not as long as they used to be; in rare occasions Jungkook could sense a certain type of awkwardness between them that really had never happened in their friendship, and sometimes Taehyung's jokes seemed to hold more truth than lightheartedness.

And to top it all off, Jungkook's dilemma regarding you was eating him alive and, usually he would turn to Taehyung for girl advice, only to later realize he was also frightened of doing that.

But a Friday night at 2 a.m, Jungkook decides he can't take it anymore.

"Sup, man." Taehyung's voice answers Jungkook's phone call on the second ring, like he always does.

"Hey, bro." Jungkook clears his voice, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Are you busy?"

"I don't know," his friend seems to be chewing on what Jungkook bets is red Skittles -yes, only the red ones- because he just knows him too well. "Are you busy still fucking my little sister?"

Taehyung chuckles at his own joke, but Jungkook doesn't. He knows there's no malice, but he can't help to think there might be. He settles for a sigh. "Yeah." he can hear some shuffling on the other side and the clicking of a computer mouse. Jungkook would also bet he was playing Among Us and he would lie if he said he wasn’t disappointed he hadn't called him to play with him. "Y'know what, it's not even important, I'll just call y-"

"Come on, man. You haven't even laughed at that and you usually laugh at everything I say even when no one else does." Taehyung swirls in his chair, his attention fully focused on his best friend. "Seriously, what's bothering you." Jungkook takes a deep breath, rubbing the side of his face.

"It's about _____."

"_____? As in, my little sister? Who you're fucking?"

"Tae, dude-"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Go on." Taehyung stiffles a laugh and waits patiently for Jungkook to continue.

"She um... Fuck, I hope this isn't weird, dude. I really do. She wants to like... rough it up in the bedroom, I guess? And I just... I don’t know... I'm terrified dude." There's silence filling the gap between Taehyung and Jungkook and Jungkook almost feels like throwing up.

"You're coming to me for sex advice... about my little sister?"

"I know, dude but... Who else I'm supossed to talk to? Jimin? Hoseok?" Jungkook sits up on his bed, an ugly knot beginning to form in his stomach. "I mean, you're my best friend," Jungkook swallows again, voice cracking. "...right?"

It's Taehyung's turn to sigh after a few seconds before he replies. "Forever and always, bro." His tone settles Jungkook's uneasiness. There's nothing but honesty in it. "Listen, Guk. I really don't know what kind of advice to give you because, literally, ew. But I do know my sister, and if that's what she wants and she's communicated with you about it, it’s because she trusts you. And I trust you more than anyone in my life. So there you go, man."

Relief washes all over Jungkook's body and he lays back on the bed again, heart not beating as hard as it was a few seconds ago.

"Thanks, dude." Jungkook smiles. "Sorry for calling you so late."

"No problem, bro." Taehyung smiles as well, swirling his chair back to his computer screen. A weight of his own being lifted. "Among Us next time?"

"Yeah, I'll let you know. Good night, bro."

Taehyung calls Jungkook's name before he can hang up. "Hey, man?"

"Yeah, man?"

There's a pause between them and then Taehyung speaks. "I love you, man."

Jungkook supresses the threat of tears about to spill because he knows Taehyung would try to bruise his other other eyebrow if he ever found out. Or hug him to death. Or both.

"I love you too, bro."

"This reminds me of the first time you gave me a blowjob." Jungkook chuckles, watching you get down on your knees between his spread thighs, make up free and sporting a similar low messy bun as that time he's mentioning, except this time you're wearing one of his hoodies engulfing your smaller frame. Proof that this time around, you're exclusively his and no one else’s.

"You mean the blowjob of your life." you giggle as you reach out to pull down his sweatpants, deligthed to see he decided on not wearing any underwear. Your spit on the back of your hand and immediately wrap it around the base of his rock hard cock while his own darts out to push the strands falling down your face behind your ear, heart eyes emoji looking down at you looking up at him.

Your tongue swirls around the tip timidly, swallowing the drop of precum oozing as he sighs heavily and lovingly. "Every blowjob you give me is the blowjob of my life." he unties your hair from the band holding it together because he prefers his fingers to be the hair tie, prefers to be the one to guide the bobbing of your head up and down his dick.

You hum in appreciation against him, cherry balmed lips wrapping fully around the head of his cock and he hums back. "Love seeing you on your knees for me with your pretty mouth stuffed, fuck." You take him deeper, closing your eyes.

Your hand moving accordingly to your mouth and your panties already wet, clinging to your folds. It's really not your fault Jungkook is the most delicious eye candy on earth and how fast can the mere sight of him make your pussy lips quiver. You slurp around the head obscenely , a moan of yours mixing with a moan of his. "Hands on your back."

You obligue, removing your hands and growing excited at the dominating low tone his voice exerts. The grip he has on your hair tightens and controls your motions, pushing you further down his dripping shaft until your nose hits his pubic bone. He holds you there, his own eyes closing shut and his dick twitching insde your mouth. A thrust of his hips make you gag and has one of your hands flying to tap his leg two times, letting him know you were in need for air.

He releases you, pulling you back until his cock is pulsating in front of you. He looks down at you, both breathless but the difference is you look so messy. Eyes watery, chest moving heavily and saliva leaking from your lips.

Yeah, there was a reason Jungkook hasn't been like this with you before. The sight of you submitting completely and looking so nasty was too much for him to handle. He might never want to see you any other way than this.

"Isn't this what you wanted, huh?" the free hand that had been supporting his weight on the matress grasps your face harshly, making you lock eyes with him.

"I thought you wanted me to choke you with my cock like a little whore?" you nod your head eagerly, unable to form words. Your pussy throbs, prompting you to rub your thighs to get some sort of relief as his thumb smears the spit adorning your lips. You're quick to envelop it in the warmth of your mouth, an involuntary moan leaving your throat. "Such a pretty slut," he lets his cock slap against your cheek, removing his thumb to move his hand back to his previous position. "Open again."

You do, his length entering your mouth again -that you gladly accept- and then he's shoving you down by your hair. "Shit, gonna fuck your mouth so good..."

And he does, not holding back anymore, his hand thrusting your head along his shaft until your throat tightens around him repeteadly, struggling for breath. But you take it, you take the aggresiveness and the degradation because fuck, you've been waiting for so long to know what this feels like. To have Jungkook be mean and have this type of control and power over you and you're enjoying it a bit too much.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum, leave your mouth open." he releases on your tongue, not able to look away from the image of you with tears falling down your eyes and mouth drenched with him and your spit, some of his cum staining down your chin and the corners of your lips that he gathers with his thumb and pushes back into your mouth. He groans, watching you swallow all of it like a good girl, your tongue grazing around his digit for the remainings, gaze not leaving his. "Let me grab my phone real quick, I need to take a picture of this."

You were definitely not the jealous type.

You prided yourself on being able to recognize when your behaviours were due to your own insecurities and removing all sorts of feelings of uncertainty from your mind. You never liked toxic patterns or the glamorization of them and your relationship with Jungkook was proof. You knew relationships were supossed to be based on blind trust and faith in your partner and yours definitely reciprocated in the same way.

"So can anybody tell me why Eunha is basically all over my boyfriend right now?" you wish you could blame your state on Hoseok's weed, who's sitting on the left side of the couch right next to you at the frat party. You really wish you could have an explanation for the way your heart tugged in such a weird way and your stomach swirled dangerously until almost making you nauseous. You really tried to blame your overthinking on the joint you had just passed to your friend.

You knew it was bound to happen someday, especially considering Jungkook had always been a ladies' man and the kind of attraction from both men and women he was able to manifest, willing or unwillingly. You just never thought it would happen so soon and in such way that made you clench your fists so tight and your nails dig into the palm of your hands so painfully.

"I mean, they did have like a long fling a few years ago, didn't they?" Seulgi, sitting on your right, chimes in.

That was true. Longer than most flings Jungkook ever had before you.

"Yeah, before she dumped him." Hoseok adds.

Your eye twitches and your jaw contracts. Because that, was also true, and it was mostly what was bothering you so much.

Had it been Jungkook the one to move away from his situationship with Eunha like with most girls, you wouldn't have such a problem with the way she's shamelessly leaning towards him from across the room. Or the way she's twirling a strand of her hair between one of her fingers while battling her lashes. Or the way she's hysterically laughing at whatever he was saying, because your boyfriend was funny, but he was not that funny.

You were not the jealous type, and Jungkook definitely wasn't giving you any reason to be, because as coquettish as the blonde was being or as provocatively as she was pushing her tits into his arm, he politely keeps his distance and tries to also engage with Jimin in conversation, leaving her pouting. But that wasn't enough to not make you start seriously questioning your feminist ethics right now.

"Wait, you're not jealous, are you?" Seulgi turns to you, offering you the joint -how long had you been focusing your attention on Jungkook and Eunha to not realize it was your turn again to smoke?-. You take it, hesitating between answering right away or taking a hit before doing that. You were never a good liar. You look between your two friends who are looking back at you with their eyebrows raised.

"I-" you close your mouth and run your fingers through your hair. "Maybe? I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't like it one bit."

"Aw, babe." Seulgi squeezes your knee, eyes showing you sympathy. "Jealousy is a natural response to any relationship."

"I know..." you take the joint in your hand, taking a long drag before letting the smoke out. "I just don't want to sound like an insecure little bitch!" you whine. "I don't want to be like 'Oh, why would Jeon Jungkook, a God of the Olympus, dare give his attention to a peasant as unworthy as me!?' Like no, he's just a man. A little less mediocre than most but a man nontheless. I'm not going to doubt myself or other women just because he's more beautiful than most, and hotter, and funnier and has a massive co-" you notice you're getting carried away by the look of disgust in Hoseok's face and Seulgi trying to hold back a laugh.

"Anyways, he's lucky to have me. We're both lucky to have each other but sometimes I feel like I might be the luckiest out of the two. And seeing Eunha looking so pretty and throwing herself at him is triggering me because..." you pause to take a deep breath and lounch back on the couch. "What if he realizes one day that I'm luckier than he is and he could be luckier with someone else?"

There's, ironically, a long silence. Ironically because the sound of Travis Scott making the walls tremble is anything but, until Hoseok speaks.

"I think you feel that way because you still haven't seen how that boy looks at you, _____." and then he motions to the spot from across the room you had been observing for too long, the spot where Jungkook is now glancing at you after noticing your detectable distress, with a frown on his features.

'You okay?' he mouthes, his fist raising in the air in a thumbs up, questioningly.

Your heart jerks, and not out of bitterness or envy caused by a girl trying to get your boyfriend's attention. Because his attention is always entirely on you, no matter how many feet are separating the two of you.

'Yes' you mouth back, with a nod of your head and an encouraging smile that has formed itself on your face. He beams as well at you. Mouthes an 'I love you' and puckers his lips in a flying kiss that makes you giggle. You mimic him, your heart tight against your chest.

Hoseok is right. You have nothing to worry about.

Jungkook is in love with you. Sometimes, he thinks, he's too in love with you.

"Can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Can't believe you're such a pussy."

Jungkook huffs in annoyance. He would smack your ass right now if his hands weren't restricted by a scarf of yours he had never seen before to your bedpost. He would also send you a mean look if his eyes weren't covered by the only tie he owned and had so generously lent to you.

When you mentioned you wanted to try this, he expected you to be in this position. Not the other way around.

He's sprawled on your bed, only his boxers covering him as your legs straddle his waist and you tighten the hold of the scarf around his wrists sternly. He winces and manages an 'Hey!' He knows you're only wearing your panties because he can't feel anything else and he's felt one of your naked tits brushing his face as you tied him up. He also tried to catch one of your nipples in his mouth as a form of punishment, to no use because you swiftly backed away from his attempt.

"I've never been a bottom before, this is new for me." he says. He really doesn't mind any of this. He's just not used to it. He knows he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little bit, even if he'd rather be the one to have you completely unmoving and naked beneath him. Especially now that you're skimming your nails up and down his torso.

"Mm, good to know." your lips follow the path your fingers created, from the center of his chest up, moving steadily and tracing soft kisses over his flesh.

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." you croon, dragging your tongue from the pulse of his neck to his earlobe, nails scraping lightly over his left nipple. Jungkook shudders, air sucked in through his teeth as his mouth opens on its own. Taking advantage of this, you place a kiss on the corner of his lips before slipping your tongue inside.

He answers simultaniously, his own tangling with yours, swallowing each other's moans. Your hips set a slow peace, clothed cad core griding over the length poking between your thighs. His hips move unvoluntarily, trying to find some sort of friction to make up for the fact that his hands are unavailable to knead your ass and pull you closer, if that was even possible.

You separate from him, raising on your knees. Jungkook whines in protest, hips buckling up from the mattress to try to meet yours again.

"Jungkook, I'm serious, stay still!"

"I take it back." his voice shaky and hands straining against the tight hold the scarf you tied around has on them. "I don't like this. Untie me so I can fuck you, babe." he complains. You sit on his tiny waist, your thighs trying to stop his movements.

You take a moment to assess him. He looks too beautiful for his own good: hair courtaning his forehead, biceps bulging and abs flexing. You can't see his eyes but you know they might be glassy. You bite your lip to supress a whine of delight. You almost consider doing as he says. Almost.

But you mantain your ground. Your jealousy from the other night had been crawling slowly from within these past few days and since you couldn't take it out on Jungkook any other way because he really wasn't to blame, you figured you'd try something new to punish him and let some of your supressed anger vanish.

Twisting your body back to pull down his boxers, not all the way, just enough to have his cock springing free from the confines of the fabric and slapping against your asscheeks.

"Has toxic masculinity seriously polluted your brain so much you can't take this seriously?" you fall forward, one of your hands balancing you beside his head as the other wraps around his neck, a tentative hold not yet to constrict his breathing.

He gulps, his body's tense and his Adam's apple is prominent under your touch. All he can see is black but he'd do anything to watch your pretty tits bouncing in front of his face. "I don't like this conversation either." he pouts.

"Then why are you so hard?" you grin, holding yourself back from laughing as he hesitates for an answer. You lean closer, mouth against his ear as you whisper. "I'm so wet right now, I could take you just like this. No lubrication at all and my pussy would just swallow your dick." Feeling his girth still between your ass flutter, clearly affected by the sultry tone of your voice. You remove your hand from his neck seeing as he has stopped moving obediently. Reaching back, you slide your panties to the side and align your entrance to the head of his leaking cock.

"Fuck, baby, please~" Jungkook's pleads fills the air, hips desperately back in motion and sliding just a few inches inside your drenched heat. The warmth envoles him instantly, your pussy pulsates around him and neither of you can't help the in synch groans tearing from your throats.

"Just the tip" you lick your lips, your voice betraying you as you resist the urge to glide the rest of his lenght inside your quivering core.

"Just the tip, my ass."

Out of sudden, Jungkook is swiftly lifting his hips from the matress, sinking all the way in. You cry as your body jumps forward, face hidden in the juncture of Jungkook's sweaty neck. His thick cock stretches you out as nice and deep and perfectly as he always does. You mewl. This was not supossed to happen at all.

"See? This is what you really wanted." you can hear the chuckle threatening to spill from his lips, anger starting to boil inside of you again.

Regaining a little bit of your lost control, you lift yourself on your trembling knees and sit back again, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix. You groan in unision, placing your hands on the hard planes of his chest and steadying yourself to try to reclaim your dominance. Finding it troublesome, because Jungook is set on having it his own way, his thrusts meeting yours in perfect synch.

You really shouldn't feel your climax approaching so soon but somehow battling for control while bickering with Jungkook is about to send you over the edge and that's making you even more annoyed.

"I swear to God, Jungkook. If you don't stop moving and shut the fuck up..." your murmur through gritted teeth, jaw slackened and eyes fluttering shut.

"What?" he spats, breathing rugged and voice coarse. "If I don't shut up, you'll wha-"

The sound of a sharp smack echoes inside your room and Jungkook's movements freeze on the spot. His head is turned to the side from the impact, and a faint print of your fingers is adorning his already stinging cheek. None of you mutter anything for a few seconds, until concerned words start to rush out of you.

"Ohmygod, Jungkook, I-"

"Did you just slap me?" Jungkook is unmoving, his mouth agape and you can picture the incredulous expression his eyes might be oozing. "Baby, what the fuck?!" You're mortified. Your hands cover your mouth and your eyes, wide open, stare down at him although he can't stare at you back.

"Babe, I don't know why I did that, you wouldn't stop talking and I know that's not an excuse but it-"

"It was fucking hot." a breathy laugh in disbelief leaves his chest. Your forehead creases, hands falling down to your chest to try to steady your incessant heartbeat. His tongue darts between his pearly teeth, a smug smirk on his features. An eyebrow of yours raises as you size him up, the realization that his body is completely motionless now hitting you.

Lurging forward, you pinch his jaw between your fingers, your hips carry on their grinding on their own accord. He releases a raspy moan, your walls clenching around him as another hit strikes his cheek, softer this time.

"You gonna be good to me?" you mutter against his lips. He nods slowly, his mouth salivating as your hips swirl on top of him. He blindly tries to reattach his mouth to yours, but you dodge him, going for the skin of his clavicle instead. "Can I fuck you slow like this until you're filling me with your cum?" He squirms when he feels you sucking a pretty purple bruise on his flesh, your cunt dropping all the way down his cock, leisurly grinding against his pelvic bone, looking yourself to find some relief to your clit.

"Ah!" his head tilts back, back slighlt arching as you soothe the mark on his neck with your tongue. "That m-might be s-sooner than you think, babe" he admits timorously, swallowing the lump in his throat, the veins on his neck on full display.

You sigh in content because, thankfully your orgasm is also closer than he thinks it is. "M-me too-" you gasp, your face buried on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush his ebony hair, nails gently scrapping his scalp as you keep the tortuous movements of your hips against his, his girth hitting that spot just right everytime until you feel the knot in your tummy finally snapping. "C-cum, J-Jungkook, I-m-"

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he has been holding back from it for a while now, not really willing to admit he was enjoying this as much as he was. With a thrust of his own fused with the way your pussy is tightening around him it's enough to send him over the edge, an unpredicted cry emanating from his vocal chords harmonizing with your own, his whole body tensing as your walls milk every single drop of his cum.

For several minutes you stay just like that. Jungkook's hands still tied, blindfold still on, his mouth still agape as his chest rises and falls until his breathing becomes steady again. And you, on top, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your breath fanning against his neck and his release dripping down your thighs. You stay like that until your body starts shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

Jungkook tilts his head towards yours, eyebrows furrowing and eyes still covered.

"What was that noise?" you manage through your giggle fit. "'Aaah!'" You've never made a noise like that before, I can't- it was so funn-"

Even while still being strained and blindfolded and with you making fun of him, a loopsided goofy smirk starts making an appearence on Jungkook's features.

Fancy dinner parties were never your thing.

Wearing heels that were too high -specifically to try to match Jungkook's height-, a new expensive dress that you were surely going to return as soon as the event was over because you definitely could not afford it and socializing with Jungkook's clique was definitely not the way you envisioned your Saturday night going.

At least Jungkook had barely been able to keep his hands for himself at the sight of you wrapped in emerald green silk and lace. But even that couldn't make you feel less uncomfortable and out of place.

Yugyeom, one of Jungkook's friends, had definitely more money than your boyfriend had previously let you know. Apparently, being a 'lil rich' as Jungkook had mentioned meant booking a luxurious restaurant to hold a dinner party with at least fifty people who looked just as 'lil rich' as Yugyeom's Gucci tuxedo.

'It'll be alright babe. Yugyeom always insists on celebrating his birthday like it's an Oscar after party. We'll just eat some of that disgusting caviar and then head home to watch Netflix, I swear'.

And yes, caviar was gross, but so was the fact that Jungkook had failed to mention a certain someone would also be making an appearence.

After introducing you to a few of his friends and realizing that Mingyu's frendliness and amiability helped you feel more relaxed, he had excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and his friend to entangle in a heated conversation about How I Met Your Mother's finale season.

You were thankful for Mingyu's humble nature and easygoing talk for a few minutes until you finally spotted your boyfriend making his way back into the room, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge a group of friends from his class.

Again, you wouldn't have such a problem with a certain blonde if she would just stop looking at Jungkook with stars in her eyes and pressing her cleavage against him while playing with her hair. It was hard to keep track of your conversation with Mingyu while Eunha was standing right next to your boyfriend and seemingly ogling up at him. It was also hard to not let your mind waver to dangerous territory when you took notice of how disgustingly good they looked together.

Just two attractive people who would look disgustingly good together.

Mingyu's voice makes you turn back to him.

"...I don't know, like, Barney was a womanizer until Robin, you know? He changed for her! They were just perfect for each other, but they had to throw it all away by killing the mother and then making Robin marry Ted? And Barney going back to his old ways?" Mingyu sounds exhasperated and you would laugh and find it cute if your stomach wasn't tugging again in a way that made you regret drinking so much wine so fast. Specially after his last statement.

"That's what I'm saying." you mumble, turning your attention back to your boyfriend in the crowd.

Jungkook wouldn't go back to his old ways. He loves you. There's nothing to worry about.

But as you watch him start to make his way towards you, you also watch the way Eunha grabs the sleeve of his blazer to pull him back. She leans in, whispers something in his ear to which he just shakes his head, says something that it's impossible to decipher from here you're standing and simply walks in your direction.

Still, as much as you tried to be neutral and objective and not a 'jealous little bitch', it's almost impossible to hide the sour expression on your face. It's impossible to unclench your jaw throughout the entire evening or lose the too tight grip on your glass of wine. Even when Jungkook whispers in your ear if you're okay, you merely nod yes. You avoid eye contact with him and everytime he tries to slip your hand into his, you dodge him it by wrapping your arms around yourself, claiming how cold it is.

Jungkook is not dumb.

He know something's up but he's also not stupid enough to cause a scene in public or preassure you into talking. So he settles on wating and being patient. Even as he slips his jacket on your stiff shoulders with pouty lips and his eyebrows drawn together, all he does is press a small kiss to the back of your neck. It takes all power within you to not throw yourself in his arms.

But as midnight approaches and it's time to leave, you notice a change in Jungkook's behaviour as you say your goodbyes. His hand on your back is not just a soft caress, instead, his fingers pull you closer, dig into your skin as he drags the both of you to where his car is parked. Now it's him who avoids your gaze. His tensed jaw and his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek is a visible indicator that Jungkook is pissed.

You know his body language as well as he knows yours. And now, as he opens the door of the passanger seat so you can slide in, the guilt and the remorse of acting cold towards him for hours is finally dawning on you.

"Are you going to tell me now what was that about?" when he closes his own door shut, he doesn't bother to put his seatbelt on. Just grips the steering wheel as he turns to you.

"I-I don't know what you're t-"

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" he laughs, not a bit of humour in it. "I know scenes like this make you feel uncomfortable but I actually thought everything was going fine. I leave you for five minutes with Mingyu and when I come back, you won't look at me, won't touch me, won't act like I'm your boyfriend. Like I did something wrong. So please, _____, tell me, what's going on?"

You know there's no excuse for the way you acted. You know it's not Jungkook's fault he attracts attention and it most definitely not his fault if an ex of his is still hung up on him. You know it's your own fault and you know you should not try to excuse yourself and fight back. You'd swore to yourself you'd push down any feelings of jealousy deep inside until they disappeared. But something about tonight makes you explode.

"Why was she being all over you?"

Jungkook's face twists in confusion. "What? Who?"

"Eunha! Who the fuck else? She was all over you a few weeks ago at Minghao's party, and she was all over you tonight!" your voice is louder than you would've liked but at this point all you care about is letting it all out.

"This is what all of that was about? Eunha?"

"Yes! I've seen her on campus as well! Always trying to get your attention! I don't care that you have friends in common, but specially tonight, she whispered something to you and she was looking at you like she-"

"Who cares how she looks at me? All you need to care about is how I look at you because the only thing I care about is how you look at me!" Jungkook exclaims, clearly exhausted of this conversation.

You sink in your seat and look away as the knuckles on his hands turn white from gripping the steering wheel.

"_____," he calls you gently, but his voice mantains a stern tone to it. "We don't do jealousy. I thought we were supossed to trust each other blindly. Have I not proved to you how sickenly in love with you I am? Do you not trust me and what I feel?"

"I-... Of course I do. I-just... I don't know. You're right. That was uncalled for." you wrap yourself in the warmth of Junkook's blazer, trying to make his scent wash away any ugly resentment and guilt in your body.

"Wanna know what she said to me?" a rethorical question, because he was going to tell you anyway. "She asked me if I was going to stay for Yugyeom's after party, way past midnight. Wanna know what I said?" he turns to you. "I said no, I'm spending the night with my girlfriend."

None of you say nothing after that. He just puts his seatbelt on and starts driving. It's not too much of a far drive to his dorm, but the silence and the awkwardness makes it feel so much longer than it should be. You don't remember the last time Jungkook was mad at you. Actually, you don't think Jungkook has ever been mad at you. He loved the banter, loved to tease you, loved being competitive with you. But you had never seen him being avoidant of you. And that feeling tears your heart on the seat of his car.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask, voice barely audible, when the car stops at a red light. His dark eyes meet yours, his face immediately softening as he studies your expression. Then he picks one of your small hands in one of his big ones, brings it to his lips and lightly kisses your knuckles. He communicates with his eyes what he doesn't with words and it's enough to make you feel secure, at least for now.

When you finally arrive at Jungkook's room, he holds the door ope for you and lets you walk in, but he's still unusually quiet. So much so, you start to worry you might have fucked up big time.

You stand there, not knowing what to do as you watch him sit down on his bed, slipping his shoes and socks off and loosening the tie around his neck. His hair, that was perfectly styled a few hours ago, is now messy by the amount of times his hand has pushed it back. He looks too yummy, and you hate the fact that tension and a little bit of fighting has managed to make him look as delectable.

You ignore the heat starting to form in your belly because now it's not the time to be horny. Not when you still need to apologize and make things right. He's rolling the sleeves of his black shirt down his forearms when you decide to speak.

"Jungkook, I'm very sorry." you start, as you remove his blazer off you and place it on the chair right in front of his desk. "I don't know why I acted the way I did. I dont get easily jealous and I really don't think I am but..." your throat constricts your words for a moment. "The more I love you, the more frightened I get when I think that one day you'll realize I'm better off as your best friend's little sister. I-I dont know what I'd do with myself if that ever happene-"

"Take off your dress." Jungkook's impassive voice and emotionless face startles you and you freeze on your feet.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?"

His elbows rest on his knees and he's holding your stare with his. His doe eyes lack that free spirited and amusing glint they usually have. He looks bored, scrutinizing you. He's not challenging you. He's commanding you because he knows you will obligue.

That's why you gulp and slowly slide the straps of your dress down your arms until the fabric pools at your feet. His eyes waver along your naked breasts, nipples perking up like the mere intensity of his gaze is ordering them to. He doesn't make a move and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He doesn't compliment you like he normally would at the sight of you almost naked in front of him.

His lack of words make you feel insecure, regardless of how turned on you are. You're used to Jungkook being reassuring, you're used to his lighthearted jokes and his playful kisses in the bedroom. But you're not used to Jungkook telling you what to do and keeping his distance while doing so. Your arms move on their own to hide yourself.

"Don't. If you hide from me, I swear to God, _____." he watches you as you let your arms fall back to your sides, your chest moving up and down while you struggle to breathe. You can't deny Jungkook's gruff voice and his eyes studying every bit of skin available to him like he hasn't seen you naked before is not making your underwear stick to your lower lips.

"JK, I just don't think this is the right moment to-"

"On my lap." your heart skips a bit, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

"Jungkook-"

"I said, get on my lap, face down." he says again, this time slower. One of his eyebrows quirk up. "Or would you rather me drag you myself? Or make you crawl?"

Your eyes widen, and your feet are quick to approach him. Your nipples tingle, your core is throbbing and your cheeks are adorned by a beautiful blush that Jungkook doesn't miss.

He doesn't move until you're in front of him, just to help you lower yourself on his lap, your cheek and your nipples touching the mattress and your ass up. You close your eyes when Jungkook skims his fingertips over your skin, his carressing relaxing your body until he eases your nerves a bit. He sighs when he notices the way that poor excuse of a thong sticks between your folds as his strong hands massage your buttcheeks.

He's taking his time, his fingers gliding over your soft skin, his breathing too calm for your liking. Until one palm of his hand collides sharply against your right cheek, sending your body forward. You gasp, the stinging making your body want to pull away. But he's quick to catch both your wrists behind your back, keeping you in place.

"Jungk-!"

Another smack, this time harder, on the same cheek.

"Did I give you permission to talk?"

Smack. This time on the left cheek. Your back arches on its own will, presenting more of your ass to him unwittingly. Your eyes squeezed shut and bite the inside of your cheek as you rub your thighs together. You keep quiet as his hand lands another blow on your ass.

"That's a good girl. Now," his voice is gentler this time as his hand soothe your reddened cheeks. "do you think what you did tonight was okay?" you say nothing, only a mewl slips past your lips. Another smack. "Answer me."

"No." you lick your lips, anticipating more.

"Do you think it was funny to pull a stunt like that?"

Smack.

"N-no!"

"No, it wasn't. Spread your legs for me." you do as you're told and he finally pulls down the drenched piece of lace down your thighs. He leans forward, spreads your cheeks with one hand as he lets a glob of spit fall directly into your lips. He makes you gasp when his fingers start sliding up and down your folds slowly.

"I've had to put up with this kind of behavour since the day you begged me to fuck this tight, virgin pussy like the little slut you are." you whine, face red as humiliation starts to creep in. Jungkook slips one finger in, pumping it slow and easy. Your hips move to take him deeper.

"I tried to be a gentleman, you know?" he says, adding a second finger. "I've tried to treat you nice and sweet and be the best boyfriend I could be to make you happy and keep you satisfied in every sense of the word." his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tortuous circles.

"Been compeletely whipped since I kissed you for the first time. Haven't looked at other girls because I just can't when I have everything I want to look at right in front of me." murmuring, he starts to get lost your pussy and how it swallows his fingers and how obscene you look and sound, dripping right on his trousers. He watches his fingers moving in and out, almost hypnotized. "Yet, somehow..." he pulls away. You whimper in protest.

"Somehow, you still seem to doubt me." His hand smacks your cheek again, wet fingers spreading your essence all over your skin.

"P-please, please." you cry. You miss Jungkook's sadistic smile before he releases the grip on your wrists, still keeping you on his lap. Both his hands spread your cheeks now, and another glob of spit falls right into your asshole. His fingers find your cunt again, easily taking you almost over the edge.

"If you could only look at yourself right now... All spread out for me like a needy whore in heat" his thumb teases your unexplored rim, hesitantly, coating it with his spit and your own arousal. He presses in slowly. You gasp, your body tenses and Jungkook stills his movements immediately. There's silence for a few seconds.

"Too far? Should I stop?" and there's your Jungkook, concern lacing his voice. His free hand caresses your back, your body relaxing, laying back down obediently. His fingers are still inside you and his thumb is still asking for entrance. He leans forward, placing a small but comforting kiss on the bruised skin of your right asscheek.

"Go on." you whisper, but he doesn't move right away. This time, it's his own body that tenses momentarely before going back to his tranquil demeanor. He breathes through his noise as his fingers pick up where they left off.

"Yeah?" you swear you hear him swallow a lump in his throat. "Gonna let me finger this tight little ass like a good slut? Mm?" his thumb slides deeper, slightly stretching you out while his fingers work your pussy in a solid rhythm. "Gonna let me stretch you out little by little until I can open you up with my cock one day?" his movements speed up, fingers sliding out of your cunt to play with your clit and his thumb slowly moving in and out. "You don't wanna talk now? You just want to stay silent while I fuck your ass and-"

And then you're cumming, so unexpected it takes both of you by surprise. Your hands grip onto Jungkook's sheets, your thighs clasp around his hand as you scream his name. He doesn't stop though. He rides you through it, encouraging words mixing with filthy insults that prolong your orgasm until you're squirming beneath him.

"Shit, baby... My hand is soaked." he mumbles, as he slowly removes his fingers and thumb from you. "You okay?"

You faintly nod your head yes, not able to find words through your dry mouth and your pussy still convulsing.

"Good. Get on the bed. On your hands and knees."

You somehow manage to slip from his lap and position yourself as he says. Except your arms and legs are shaking. Although the sound of Jungkook undoing his belt and his hands gripping your hips and bringing you towards him until the head of his dick is at your entrance is enough to make you forget about how tired your body is. You surrender to him, not even bothering to hold yourself up on your arms, your fingers crumbling the sheets and your face buried into the pillow.

When his cock enters you, a pitiful moan leaves your mouth. His thick lenght slides into your heat, filling you perfectly as he always does. It's a wonder how well he fits inside you.

"Such a perfect slut for me. Always ready for me to do whatever I want with her, since day one. So tight, so ready. So, so perfect. All mine." he talks as measured as he moves, dragging each word out as his hips find a nice tempo.

Then he doesn't move for a while with his dick buried between your walls, and you know he's holding himself back. You turn your head slightly to look at him. He catches your eyes instantly. Sees your mascara running down your watery eyes, and your smudged lipstick and your messy hair and then he's giving you that look. That look that lets you know that Jungkook is, indeed, whipped for you. Leaning in, he presses his shirt-covered chest to your sweaty, naked back. His cock dives deeper, not an ounce of space between you as he lovingly kisses your cheek until his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you hard but soft, tongue meeting yours for the first time since you entered the room. Jungkook is not a man of words. He's silly, and a jokester, and finds it difficult to express how he's feeling. But when he kisses you, or looks at you, when he touches you, or when he makes love to you, even if it's as dirty and filthy as right now, he's always able to transmit exactly what he can't vocally.

He's telling you there's no other place he'd rather be than here, with you.

When he pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, his hand moves to the back of your head, fisting your hair in a tight hold that makes you arch your back and desperately moan for him.

"A-and you're mine." you sob.

It's like something snaps inside of him. He growls and suddenly his hips lose control. He nails you against the mattress, his grip on your hair pulling your head back, his lips against your ear as your cunt clenches around his cock.

"Just yours. All yours." his grunts send shivers down your spine and you're close again, even in the painful and uncomfortable position your body is in. Being at Jungkook's mercy and him being at yours is enough to have you seeing starts.

"This is the only pussy I want wrapped around my cock. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss. You're the only one I want between my arms." It only takes two flickers of Jungkook's free hand against your nub and his next words to tip you over. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."

You squeal as you come, and Jungkook bites your shoulder to keep himself from doing so as well as he follows shortly. He fills you up with his release, but he doesn't release you from him. He wraps his arms around your frame, both your bodies becoming soft as he rolls over to one side with your back still pressed to his chest, cock still inside you. His lips find their way to the skin of your shoulder and the back of your neck. His breath fanning your flesh makes you smile.

"That is so not like my sister. I'm telling you, she never gets jealous." Taehyung says over the phone. He's munching on something again and Jungkook would bet all the money in his wallet again he's eating Skittles. Red Skittles. "So, everything cool now?"

"Yeah, man. We just talked it out, you know?" Jungkook's gaze falls on you, laying on your stomach on his bed, laptop iluminating your face, earbuds on and your head moving to whatever music you're listening to. Jungkook would bet all the money in his bank account it's Shape Of My Heart by The Backstreet Boys. Or at least that's what he's been able to guess so far. He was never good at reading lips, specially when trying to guess boybands' lyrics.

Friday's nights meant late 1990's/early 2000's pop nostalgia for you. It meant shaking his head and spending the following week trying to get Britney and Xtina songs out of his brain for him. Although lately, he hadn't been trying that hard. Jungkook sighs in content, not really trying to cover the fact that he might be looking at you like a starstruck teenager. Which, it was totally fair because that's exactly how he feels about you. "Communication is key, bro."

He keeps watching you until your head perks up and catch him gawking. You smile at him and he smiles back.

"By 'communication is key' you mean you actually fucked my little sister silly right? Bro, I swear, I'll block your numb-"

"Sorry man, gotta go."

"And now you're gonna fuck her silly again, right? You son of a b-"

Jungkook hangs up just as you take your earbuds off, making his way to you to kiss you silly.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #FINALLY #took me a month to gain motivation and inspiration back!!!

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interlunium-opus · 3 years

Text

No Place I’d Rather Be. [ Jay ]

[ Jay | fluff ]

Abstract: when you went to the library on the night when the Triennial Winter Ball was held, you expected to be all alone. But Jay, your best friend and the campus heartthrob is somehow already there waiting for you.

You stared out of the corridors of windows as you ascended up the staircase of the desolated library, your eyes fixated on the bustling crowd outside. It was the night the Triennial Winter Ball was held: basically the night everyone looked forward to the moment they started university. Unlike how dark, drab and quiet winter nights in campus usually are — tonight, the campus was alight with festive lights lining up the path leading up to the grand hall and students filtering in, decked in their “Sunday best”, filling the otherwise quiet night with cacophony of laughters, chatters, and whispers.

Standing in contrast with the crowd outside was you, all alone in the dimly-lit library, decked in monochrome with books in hand instead clinking glasses and waltzing with others in an elegant dress. You sighed as you thought to yourself, who am I kidding, my introverted soul wouldn’t last a minute in there.

“You’re late today.”

You jumped, startled, dropping some of the books you were carrying. Given the context of tonight, no one should have been in the library right now. Especially not the campus heartthrob and the social butterfly, Jay Park.

“Jay?” You called out, squinting your eyes to get a clearer view of the tall figure at the end of the aisle. The dim-lighting were of no help at all but the blonde locks and the deep voice were a massive giveaway, “wait..what are you doing here?!”

“You look petrified to see your own best friend, it’s almost heartbreaking,” Jay muttered sarcastically as he made his way towards you before reaching down to pick up the books you had dropped.

“Well, duh, no one should be here tonight especially not you,” you retorted as you walked towards your usual seat at the corner, the one with the large windows and dimmest lighting, “people are going to think that you got kidnapped or something and oh God, the amount of hearts you’re breaking tonight with your no-show.”

“Well, what’s your excuse?” Jay raised an eyebrow at you.

“Jay, we have been best friends for almost 2 years now, you know why I am not there — I would just combust,” you said as a matter-of-factly as you took a seat.

“But it’s our final year, you’ve got to make it count — socially I mean. And come on, it’s the Triennial Winter Ball not some frat party,” he grumbled as he sat on the armrest of the chair next to you with his body facing you and arms folded. Being a massive extrovert with a lifestyle that tends toward opulence — tonight’s extravagance was right up his alley and all month long he had been endlessly badgering you to attend it. Being the massive introvert you are though, the ball is basically the last thing you would want to attend.

That said, as incredulous as the friendship between the two of you are to many people, you two are polar opposites that complement one another in a way that two differently-shaped puzzle pieces can only fit one another. Being a social butterfly, your individualism, rationality and brilliant intellect really stood in stark contrast with the homogenous crowd and superficial conversations that he constantly surround himself with. With an equally subtle sarcastic dark humor to match, a tenacity like no others and a brilliant intellect that constantly challenge and stimulates his mind — you’re like an oasis in the desert.

Likewise, Jay, too, was like a breath of fresh air to you. You have had some initial reservations about him though. After all, he was more known for his lavish lifestyle and the parties he throw. But beyond those such fronts, Jay was highly knowledgable with strong passion for what he believes in — qualities of which really matched yours. Not to mention, being pragmatic and rational himself, he was one of the rare few people in your life that you don’t need to put up a social filter for as he is always able to objectively understand your views and opinions.

That is how you two end up going from being touted as the “cursed” pairing that was doomed to fail when you two were first paired for a project in “Modern Political Thought” module, to the Dream Team that ended up trouncing everyone else’s project, attaining the highest score out of everyone in class. In fact, you two just keep on surprising everyone by becoming almost inseparable even after the module ended.

“Who’s to say a couple of drinks isn’t going to turn a ball into a frat party?” You shot him an incredulous look before turning your attention to the books you were flipping, “… exam is around the corner anyway.”

“1.5 months away,” he emphasized as he lowered his head down to your level, peeking over your shoulders to take a closer look at your notes, “Seriously? you’re skipping tonight’s extravagance and festivities for Multivariate Functions and Lagrangian? I’d have let it slide if you were working on a prose instead.”

“Well what’s your excuse for being here then? I’m pretty sur-“ you stopped mid-sentence, caught off guard by how close his face actually was to yours when you looked up to face him. Jay’s face as usual was unperturbed, his blonde locks softly framed his chiseled face and his lips was pouty in concentration as his eyes travelled from one end of your notebook to the other before he turned his face slightly and met your gaze. You swore for a moment you felt your heart skip a beat but the moment one corner of his lips lifted into his signature lopsided grin, that thought immediately disappeared as you knew he was going to say something sarcastic or dramatic.

“How can I be so selfish and party away when my best friend is all sad and depressed alone in this library?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Jay, as if-”

“Also,” he suddenly interjected, “the girl that I asked out for tonight rejected me so….”

“Wait, what?!” You gasped, “The Jay Park got rejected?”

“I know right. She rejected an offer that millions would have killed for,” he shrugged as he straightened back up.

“Exactly! who in their right mind would- anyway, at the risk of sounding insensitive, couldn’t you have substituted her with other girls? Like you said, millions would have killed to be your date — you can just pick and choose.”

“Wow, ____, you really have ice in your veins don’t you?” he smirked.

“Whatever, just being rational.”

“I know. I definitely could. I mean the head cheerleader asked me out too so I could have just accepted it,” he murmured, “but...” he paused, “as cringeworthy as this sounds, 80% of the reason why I really looked forward to the ball was because I was looking forward to spending it with the girl who rejected me. So without her in the picture, the whole vision just suddenly lost its spark. Like… I’d rather just spend time with her then whether it is at a ball or library or wherever.”

“Oh…” you managed, unsure how to react, “that’s kind of… deep I guess. Well yeah, I mean if you still don’t feel bitter over her rejecting you then sure, you do you, go after her. Unless of course she’s at the ball with someone else then maybe not…”

Instead of responding promptly as he usually does, Jay just heaved a huge sigh as if he was disappointed or something. His eyes glued onto yours as if trying to pry some information out of your mind, “You know you’re awfully dense. Have you ever thought that maybe you’re too studious that it’s beginning to cost you your social skills or something?”

Jay has always been blunt but tonight, it was just on a different level. It was almost like he was here to intentionally grate you as if someone was actually keeping score. You retorted, “Excuse me. Did you just come all the way here to push my buttons? Because yo-“

You stopped mid-sentence again when he suddenly leaned closer towards you, his hands on either side of you, one on the edge of your table and the other, gripping your headrest, “I am already with her right now.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, your mind working on overdrive.

“Fine,” he uttered, ”let me spell it out for you — you’re the girl. You’re the one who rejected me. Twice.”

You opened your mouth to tell him to stop joking but his unperturbed facial expressions told you otherwise. Still in disbelief, you stammered, “No way — Me? When?! I mean we talked about the ball a couple of times but you’ve never… unless - wait… you were serious?”

You remembered it was a Saturday night, about 2 weeks ago at almost 4 AM when you and Jay was at the library burning the midnight oil. You were busy trying to finish up your Econometrics assignment while Jay, who had long given up with his Philosophy assignment, was engrossed in a movie marathon next to you.

“Ugh,” you groaned when your regression results turned ‘insignificant’. You turned your attention to the papers and books strewn across your desk, frantically flipping through the pages to see where the error could have been and how else can you rectify this.

“You need to sleep on it,” Jay murmured, casting worried glances at you, “You’ve been on it for hours.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, your eyes scanning over your messy handwriting, “I’ll end up obsessing about it again at home so I definitely need to get to the bottom of this today, that’s the only way I can sleep.”

Jay sighed, pausing his movie and turning his attention fully towards you, “Fine. But you really need to reward yourself for working so hard this semester because otherwise, you’ll just burn out. Also, by reward, I did not mean hibernating.”

“Hmm,” you nodded absentmindedly when suddenly Jay snatched the pen you were using, “Hey ___ eyes on the person talking please. What did I just say?”

You rolled you eyes, relenting, “Something about rewarding myself and not hibernating — there, happy? Can I get my pen back?”

“Good,” Jay beamed, quickly pulling his hand away when you were about to snatch your pen back from his grasp, “The Triennial Winter Ball would be a good idea of a reward by the way.”

You scoffed, “Jay, that is probably your idea of a reward but it definitely won’t be mine. First, I’ve got to look all made up from top to bottom — that takes up too much resources for something an introvert like me possibly won’t even enjoy — that’s the equivalent of some floppy investment prospects right there.

“Secondly, I avoid crowds like the plague whenever I could help it and the ball has all the variables that could make me combust on spot: there are a lot people; a lot of emotions; a lot of expectations and — well, you get the picture.

“And finally, I would need to find someone to go with — again, too much trouble.“

“You have me, where’s the trouble in that?” he asserted, snatching your pencil case away this time when you were about to reach for it, “Just go with me then.”

“Yeah no that’s ridiculous,” you shook your head, stretching your hand out to him, beckoning him to give your stationaries back, “Stop playing, give me my stationaries back.”

Ignoring your demand, he pressed on, “Why is that so ridiculous?”

You sighed, “Because A) everyone wants a piece of you so B) I’d be burnt at stake if we do go together. And also C) You should spend that special night with a special someone, not your best friend — come on, Jay, you need to work on your prioritization skill.”

“Wait — that was meant to be it?” You shrieked as you recalled the memory, “I mean, it just rolls so casually in our conversation — I couldn’t have possibly picked it up as serious. Anyway, fine — when was the other time?”

“Just a few days ago when I was sending you home,” Jay replied as-a-matter-of-factly. Jay remembered skipping dance practice that night, earning an earful from the instructor the next day, just so that he can walk you home after your Students’ Union meeting with the president, Yang Jungwon.

“You’re really set on not going to the ball?” Jay asked for the umpteenth time and you nodded.

“What if I tell you that I know someone who is thinking of asking you out for the ball?” Jay prodded, stopping you in your tracks, “I’m serious.”

“Still no.”

“I have not even told you who he was,” Jay grumbled.

“Fine, entertain me,” you relented.

“Jungwon.”

“Jay stop messing around.”

“I told you I’m serious, geez,” Jay said exasperatedly.

“But why — what is that kid thinking…”

“I don’t know — maybe you should stop having some night meetings with him alone before it grows into a full-blown crush or something,” Jay shrugged before you smack him lightly on the arm. “Ouch!” he whined, “Anyway so? Will that be a yes or a no?”

“Of course no, Jungwon’s a definite no.”

“Well, I saved him from a heartbreak then,” Jay mumbled.

“Huh?” You stared at him.

“Nothing,” Jay quipped, smiling sheepishly. The truth was, one of the reason why he insisted to walk you home tonight was because he overheard Jungwon telling Heeseung this morning that he definitely would ask you out to the ball after the meeting, perhaps right after, perhaps while walking you home. Knowing that someone as upright as Jungwon was going to ask you out, Jay thought he should have been elated for this might mean that you will actually come to the ball. But somehow, like a broken record, the conversation kept on playing in his mind all day during his classes, accompanied with the 1001 likely scenarios of how you’d likely respond to him. By the time night has set in, all he knew was that he was dead set on not letting Jungwon ask you out to the ball, by hook or by crook. He did not fully comprehend why, perhaps he just did not like Jungwon, he thought. Or maybe, he didn’t like you with Jungwon together — or perhaps, he actually didn’t like you with any other guys. Fortunately by the time he had reached the Student Centre of the Campus, completely out of breath that is, he can see that you and Jungwon were still discussing the union project. Once the meeting ended, as indicated by Jungwon switching the projector off, Jay just barged in, announcing that he’ll take you home much to your suprise and to Jungwon’s dismay.

“Why not though?” Jay suddenly asked, “I mean accepting Jungwon? He’s like the textbook example of an ideal guy: cute, smart, upright, overachiever and whatnot”

“Well, my good friend has a crush on him for the longest time so that’s one big reason,” you explained, “also, we don’t even know each other that well on a personal level for me to say yes to.”

“Then would you go with me instead?” Jay suddenly grabbed onto your hand, stopping you in your tracks, “I mean, if you’re worried about having a good time, wouldn’t I be ideal then?”

For a moment, silence engulfed the two of you as you two stared into one another’s eyes. You opened your mouth to say something but immediately closed it, remembering how just this morning you overheard that the head cheerleader had asked Jay out, “Jay, just go with someone else more fitting okay? You don’t have to pity invite me or something, I’m fine. I heard the head cheerleader asked you out — isn’t that perfect? two campus heartthrobs together? You guys would be the talk of campus and the envy of many.”

Despite the praises, he could feel his heart sank. While it was not an explicit rejection, your nonchalance, for the second time, pricked him. Not one to be emotional, he plastered a smile as he slowly let your hand go, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh no, crap, I’m sorry Jay,” you sank in your seat as you stared at him in disbelief. No wonder, he looked so taken aback that night, you thought, and how cold he was the next day. “You know what, yeah I’m definitely dense — I think I traded my social skills for good grades. You can tease me with that all you want, I won’t even try to defend myself anymore.”

“Well, on the bright side, flirtations from others can’t get through to you — you’re like a fortress or something,” Jay chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry though really,” you bit your lip, apologetic, “What can I do to make it up to you? Oh you know what — that Michelin-starred restaurant that just opened up in the corner? How about I’ll treat you there for tomorrow? It’ll break my wallet but if it will unbreak what I’ve done to you -- I’d gladly commit to the splurge.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that materialistic,” Jay scoffed, “Do you mean it though, that you’ll do anything?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, “Within moral and ethical bounds, that is.”

Suddenly Jay extended his hand towards you, beckoning you to take it.

“You’re not dragging me to the ball right now right?” you took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet, leading you towards a more spacious area, “We’re underdressed for it Jay. I mean look at me, I’m decked in monochrome -- I basically look like I’m mourning.”

He chuckled as he pulled out his AirPods case, taking out one and gently inserting it into your ear before inserting the other pair into his, “Don’t worry, there are no dress codes for our own private ball.”

Soft music started to play through the AirPods, it was “Best Part” by Daniel Caesar ft. H.E.R. “Just dance along with me alright? I don’t need to be splurged on,” Jay’s hand slowly snaked over your back, pulling you close to him as he carefully yet smoothly guide you to the melody of the music.

“Well, gotta warn you though,” you smiled sheepishly, “I’m bad at this so don’t sue me if I step on your Pradas.”

“Fine, exclusively for tonight, I’ll put my Pradas at risk,” he quipped, his eyes glued onto yours, “Say, if you had known that I was serious — would you have said ’yes’ to me?”

You looked up, meeting his warm gaze which somehow, perhaps due to the proximity, was making your heart skip a beat, “I think so? I mean, I hate crowds but you would usually make me forget that I was in one. Also, you’ve always said yes to all of my weird adventures so I always feel like I need to repay you back in-kind if the opportunity arises.”

Despite always trying to keep his composure in the face of any nerve-wrecking moment, Jay failed this time as he feel his smile widened while his heart raced uncontrollably. He couldn’t exactly pinpointed why: was it your sudden heart-fluttering words; was it the proximity; was it the the warmth that he could feel on both hands; was it the atmosphere; was it the fireworks that was starting to set off outside; or was it just you?

Suddenly, he thought in retrospect, he was glad that you had said “no” to him. He wouldn’t have traded the moment tonight, just you and him away from all the external noises, for a waltz in a crowded and noisy ballroom, even with all the glitz and glamour that it offers. In fact, tonight best represented what you meant to him, like that of an oasis in a desert, your presence alone is enough for him even if he has to search through the highs and lows for you -- it is just you who he’ll gravitate to eventually.

_______

Author’s note: first imagine wheee! Hope you guys like this one :3

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jongseong #enhypen fluff #kpop imagines #enhypen drabbles

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

A Soft Confession Draped in Ivory and Silk (Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Pro-Hero!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, sort of domestic fluff in the snippet of the future Bakugou sees with you, mentions of alcohol, Aged-Up!AU, suggestive themes, implied smut, mutual pining, there's a lot of fluff in this one.

Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated UA. This was supposed to be a trouble-free reunion, except your reservations got screwed up and now you have to room with someone else while you're staying for the entirety of the trip. The weird thing is, everyone seems to have some kind of excuse as to why they can't let you sleepover in their room for the night. So, you decide on Bakugou's, the only person who can't say no because he hasn't arrived yet. But your actions have consequences and now you need to deal with all the feelings that you've been frantically suppressing as they resurface.

Words: 19.2k

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Bakugou seethed hotly, vastly annoyed with the sight that greeted him.

He had kicked open the door to his allocated hotel room, exhausted from the long drive and wanted nothing more than to flop on the comfy bed and just fall asleep but that couldn't happen if you were here.

Of course it had to be you. Of all the shitty extras, it had to be you.

Fuck.

Rolling your eyes at his angry exasperation, you continued stirring the pot on the stove without paying him any attention, which you knew irritated him greatly. Free hand planted idly on your hips, your brow scrunched up as you caught a whiff of burning potatoes and quickly turned off the fire.

Alright, so you weren't the best at cooking, but that wasn't going to stop you. A girl's gotta eat.

In hindsight, you could've just picked up some food on the way or been smart and packed a lunch before you left but in your defense, you were running late. You blamed being completely unprepared on Mina, who failed to inform you in time so you would have enough time to appropriately pack and not panic about seeing all your old classmates from your UA days.

By the time she told you of this little trip, you had exactly seven hours to get everything in order and head up north to the high-end hotel Iida and Yaoyorozu, the old class representative and executive officer, reserved for the group of 22.

They had decided to hold a reunion of some sorts since it had been a number of years since you guys all graduated. Really, you suspected it just to be an excuse for all of you to get drunk but you weren't complaining.

Hero work was taxing.

Even Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might and Midnight had come along for the weekend getaway. Though they were stuck in traffic and wouldn't make it until the next morning.

"The reservations got mixed up when Midoriya called in." You said over your shoulder to the grumpy man pouting in the corner, scooping out the soup in the pot into bowls and you ignored how Bakugou growled when the name of his rival passed through your lips. "It was either share a room with you or Mineta, so..."

Bakugou glowered at you from the other side of the room but he didn't argue. That little pervert might've grown up a bit since he actually transformed into a decent hero who was a feminist and advocated for women all the time instead of trying to touch them constantly without consent, but that didn't mean he wanted you to sleep in the same bed as the fucking grape head.

Weirdly enough, everyone you asked seemed to have an excuse as to why they couldn't let you sleep over with them for a night until the mistake was sorted out. The guys you could understand but the girls?

Something was kind of off there.

So then it was just down to Mineta, who was an absolute no in your book, and Bakugou, who was the only one who hadn't arrived yet.

Knowing that you'd be completely screwed over if he said no too, you made a choice, figuring he could kick you out if it really was too much of a bother.

At least the accommodations were nice.

The room was a luxurious suite, more than big enough to hold you both without getting in each other's way.

Rich, velvet curtains hung from the valances and a small crystal chandelier hung above the mahogany table. The kitchen was fully equipped with the latest line of appliances in Japan and stocked with utensils and stainless steel cookware. The room even came with French doors that separated the bedroom from the cozy living area and kitchen parts of the suite, giving it a secluded but romantic feel.

You ignored the latter portion of that vibe.

The two of you were friends at best and you were still wondering if you could even call him a close friend when most of your interactions happened on the job in joint operations that required both of your quirks.

It was hard to ever find to get out and see your friends, let alone even consider dating. You had given up that dream after some sleazebag tried to get into your pants after one date. When your team figured out he was after your fame, that put the nail in the coffin and you hadn't tried to see anyone else since then.

For a time there, you had thought you had some potential for a relationship with Shindou since the two of you held mutual attraction for each other but that was over when he started seeing one of his old classmates.

You were happy for the both of them but it didn't dull the ache in your heart for someone who understood the life that you lived.

And not in a platonic way.

Shindou being in a relationship honestly didn't come as a surprise to you, he had feelings for her since the provisional licensing exam and besides, your heart was set on someone else.

Someone you could never hope that they would return your feelings.

Breezing out of the kitchen with two portions in hand, you passed one to the grumpy ash-blond's way.

Bakugou scoffed haughtily as he left his luggage by the door and threw himself down into the sofa positioned behind the TV, completely ignoring your peace offering. "What the fuck makes you think I want to eat your shitty cooking?"

"Suit yourself."

You shrugged your shoulders and set it down on the coffee table, undeterred by his crude yet muffled language. Something things never changed, you could still read him like a book. His temper was all a front.

Had been since high school. Now you both were pros, constantly out on the streets and saving the day. It was rewarding work but it was also exhausting.

You couldn't put into words how much you were looking forward to this getaway trip, where you didn't have to worry about appearances or the media catching you off guard.

You don't know exactly how, but somehow Todoroki, Yaoyorozu and Iida managed to pay them off or something to get them to leave you alone for the blessed three days this reunion was going to span.

And you have to say, you had never been more grateful to have rich people as friends.

Leaving to go change so that you were ready for the dinner tonight with all of your old classmates while simultaneously chowing down on your delicious (somewhat burnt) food, the corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile as you heard the bowl scrap against the table as the grumpy hero begrudgingly pulled it toward him.

Unable to resist, you tossed a lighthearted jab over your shoulder without looking at him. "Aw, you do have a heart~"

"Fuck off, dumbass." Bakugou spat from around a mouthful of potato, yet making no move to set down the food you had spent so much time making before he arrived.

Even though it was a little overcooked, it tasted better than any of the shit he had been forcing himself to eat recently.

Being a pro was no fucking joke, not that he ever treated it like one before, but it sure as shit seemed a lot easier when they were students and had fucking adults to rely on.

It was still fucking weird to him to think of his old homeroom teacher as a colleague.

Bakugou lazed around for a couple hours after he finished eating your food. He wasn't ever going to admit it, but your home cooking hit the spot. His own cooking was still better but yours wasn't shit. At least, not compared to that fucking Dunce Face's.

He still remembered when you and Sato would make dinner back when they all lived in Heights Alliance. Of course, Emergency Exit had a fire extinguisher handy anytime you were in the kitchen because you had a habit of lighting things on fire.

A lot.

Flipping through the channels on the TV boredly, Bakugou blankly stared at the screen with moving pictures that he couldn't care less about as his mind wandered back to you.

When Kirishima first told him about the trip, he flat out declined coming with.

There was no fucking way he was going. Why the hell would he want to see all their annoying faces and shit?

At least, that was all that was running through his mind until the idiot slyly mentioned how you were going to be coming along.

Bakugou honestly didn't think you would be one for all this shit. According to his agent, you had been so swamped with work in your district that you hadn't been taking proper care of yourself. Not that he cared or anything.

But it was going to be a fucking inconvenience for him if you suddenly fainted on the job and was rushed to the hospital, leaving him to pick up all your damn slack.

Because your agencies were sort of near each other, he thought he couldn't take the time off if you were going, but his PR team had insisted, practically shoving him out the door so he could pack seven days early.

He had a sinking suspicion that his absence would allow them to curb the damage done after that stunt he pulled last month at the middle school they made him talk at.

It wasn't his fault!! Those damn kids had too many fucking questions!!

Alright, so that wasn't really it. He had overheard one of the teachers spewing shit about heroes and how useless they were so of course he was fucking angry. To have the fucking nerve to not even lower their voice in front of him was a trip but the last straw was when they carelessly brought up your name in the conversation, haughtily claiming that you didn't know how to do your job properly.

And he fucking lost it.

The entire security team had to pry him off of the wailing teacher when they arrived and once the facts were cleared up, no one could say that they really blamed him for reacting the way that he did but still, the press was going to have a field day when this got out.

Bakugou had clicked his tongue angrily and stormed the other way while the police got the situation sorted out.

He would own up to what he had done, he wasn't fucking afraid. He would kill them any day of the week.

But he halted in his tracks down the dreary and empty hallway when he saw a little boy sitting alone outside the classroom. He recognized him. He was inside during the meet-and-greet but the teacher that he had just got into a verbal battle with had sent him outside for some reason.

The child whimpered and curled into a tighter ball when he came closer and Bakugou cursed himself for not having the same calming effects on kids like Deku had.

"Oi, brat. What the hell are you doing sitting out here?" He asked abrasively, crouching down a little ways away to give him some space.

The kid sniffled loudly and raised his head, his eyes swollen and bloodshot from how hard he had been crying and Bakugou's heart twisted painfully.

"M-Mister?" He stammered out in a small voice. "Wha...?"

"You're crying."

Since no one else was around, Bakugou's guard dropped a fraction and his eyes softened slightly.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

After six minutes of the kid stuttering to find his voice in front of his idol, he managed to tell him a little bit.

And if Bakugou was mad before, he sure as hell was livid now.

Because this kid was being punished by his teacher and his peers for something he had no control over. His quirk.

His teacher hated him and would often send him outside because it would go off at random times and distract his classmates. And while everyone pointed fingers at him and laughed, he was left all alone to deal with a power that was too big for him to control.

Labeled a villain, he was cast out and even though the pro-hero could clearly see how kind his heart was just in the few minutes he'd interacted with him, no one else seemed to care enough to give him the time of day.

Bakugou offered out his hand and demanded that he get up. Timidly, the little kid did so, exclaiming out in surprise when he dragged him towards the direction of the classroom.

The hero could sense his rising fear and anxiety so he stopped just outside of the door where the police had been filing out of a minute ago and turned to him, squatting down to his level.

"Listen, brat." Bakugou barked out, but not unkindly. "Those extras don't mean a damn thing. You're fucking strong and you're going to be a great hero when you grow up."

He rapidly blinked his eyes and they sparkled. "Really?!"

Bakugou snorted. "Yup. Now, come on. It's storytime."

When he entered, he was disgusted to see how the teacher and the kids recoiled back from the boy hiding behind his legs. And while he couldn't necessarily fault the kids as much as their teacher because they were being taught that this little guy was a monster, to see a grown-adult grooming them to judge people like this was fucking wrong.

He would know.

Sitting down, he patted his thigh once to invite the little boy to take a seat on his lap. When the boy finally scrambled on and got comfortable, even though he was still clearly nervous about being in front of his class like this, Bakugou started his tale.

The few security officers who were standing by the teacher for safety should he launch at them again and his own agent were wary of his intentions, but all that diminished when he opened his mouth.

The calm hero told the wide-eyed kids how he was a bully to someone who had the true heart of what it took to be a hero and how he was able to grow by recognizing his mistakes and taking action. He told them that it was hard to change but that it was a good thing even though it felt weird and felt like the world was against him at times.

He told them that it didn't matter whether they had a strong quirk, a weak quirk or no quirk at all, at the end of the day, they were all the same: imperfect humans just trying to live and find happiness. And that everyone was deserving of respect.

Even the little boy they had casted out from their social circle.

Bakugou could see some things start to click in their minds and while he knew that most of this would fly over their heads for now since they weren't at an age where they had to think about all these things on the daily, he hoped that it would stick with them and come back to them when they needed it most.

The teacher's jaw had gone slack in shock and Bakugou glared at them, sending them one last pointed remark about how it was important to ensure the future generation had the tools they needed to thrive in this world and they gulped, averting their eyes as they were thoroughly intimidated by the way his burning eyes scorched into them.

Throwing his head back with a heavy sigh, Bakugou closed his eyes.

He needed this weekend to get the fuck away with everything that was wrong in this world and accept that he could only change the things he could control one at a time.

But patience was never his strong suit.

Growling, he pushed himself off of the too-comfortable couch and stormed his way to the front door to grab his luggage he had discarded to the side earlier before heading to the bedroom. He paused at the closed door for a second, briefly debating if he should knock or not but shook his head.

Fuck it. It's my fucking room.

He kicked open the door despite it being made of glass and he froze in place as his eyes landed on your form standing in front of the full-length mirror with your bare back to him.

Your eyes shining in the reflection of the polished mirror snapped to where his figure was still frozen in the doorway and you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to cover yourself up or anything.

It honestly wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, your hero costume had your back exposed all the time but you were damn annoyed that he had burst in when he did because he startled you and dropped the thing you had been playing with for a good half an hour now.

You were halfway to getting that tricky zipper to cooperate with you when he interrupted you. His timing literally could not be worse.

Sighing, you motioned him in, a bit confused why he cleared his throat and looked away from you as he set down his suitcase and strutted over without a fight.

"Make yourself useful and help me." You demanded with a slight pout. It was his fault the stupid thing was now all the way down again. Who made these things?!

You didn't have enough hands for this task.

In order to zip up the complicated dress, you needed to simultaneously hold together all the lace that crisscrossed near the neck while your other hand tried to wiggle up the zipper.

All while defying gravity and attempting not to twist your arms off.

Bakugou came to stand behind you and he exhaled frustratingly at the mess you made. The whole thing was tangled in the back, there were too many pieces for him to know what was supposed to go where.

"What the fuck did you even do, dumbass?" He muttered, more to himself than to you as he crossed over and pulled through the complicated design to get it to lay flat, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

You giggled, gathering your hair in one hand and sweeping it to one side so that it was off the nape of your neck and wouldn't get in the way.

You swallowed when his fingers brushed over your skin as he undid the damage you dealt to this fancy article of clothing and tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat.

Honestly, you hated parties and fancy gatherings like the one tonight was going to be, but Mina and Ochako had begged you to wear something nice for at least one of the days, hence why you were now in this predicament.

Because you had absolutely no idea how to put on a dress this fancy.

Yaoyorozu had bought it for you last year when all of the girls from the former Class A and B went on a shopping spree, claiming it brought out your eyes and was such a perfect fit for you that you had to have it, regardless of how many zeros there were on the tag at the time of purchase.

You thought your eyes were going to fall out of your head the second she swiped her platinum credit card without so much as batting an eye.

You haven't gotten a chance to wear it yet. It really was a special occasions gown since it was floor-length and wouldn't be appropriate for any modern day clubs or work parties. So when the girls told you the dress code for this weekend, you were secretly a little excited, the inner child in you skipping around in circles at the notion of getting to play dress up.

According to Mina and Tsuyu, the ballroom that dinner was going to be served in tonight was supposed to be extravagant and you couldn't wait to see what it looked like.

The Solaria Hotel was one of Japan's finest and most exclusive establishments and had a five star rating from over hundreds of thousands of pro-heroes.

And you could certainly see why.

Just the size of the bedroom itself was already twice as big than your apartment that you rented out.

The king-sized bed was ridiculously huge and you were pretty sure the comforter was lined with genuine velvet. Silk sheets for the mattress and the pillow had your heart jumping for joy at how soft and silky it felt against your skin.

Aside from the bed, which also had a sheer white canopy draping down, the ceiling was ten feet high and rose petals were scattered around the huge room.

If you didn't know any better, you would think that this was a love hotel instead of one that they geared towards a resting spot for heroes. But you supposed you could understand why they had set it up the way they did.

Even heroes needed that kind of relief.

But luckily, the hotel business was slow this time of month and you didn't see many other guests when you came in, so the lack of bustle was a nice change of pace from your everyday hectic schedule.

Twisting around to see what was taking Bakugou so long to figure out the lace back, you yelped when he harshly pushed you back so that you were facing forwards.

"Hey!!" You protested indignantly and you swayed on your feet. It was a good thing you weren't wearing your heels yet.

He scoffed, deft fingers continuing to work at the knots as he repeated his earlier words. "What the fuck did you even do?"

"I didn't do anything!!"

This time, he snorted in disbelief. "Yeah right. This shit looks worse than Deku's hair."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" You shrieked.

After arguing back and forth for a few minutes, you began to grow anxious as the time started to tick by. You had to be down there for dinner in less than an hour and you even though you had already done your hair and makeup, mostly, you still weren't really prepared for this.

Crowds weren't your thing, which made being a pro hard sometimes, but the work you did was worth that particular downside.

Your eyes widened and you hopped in place when Bakugou finally zipped you up. Spinning around and being careful not to trip, you beamed at him as you threw your arms around his neck.

"Thank you!!!" You squealed gratefully.

He clicked his tongue and huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Get off me now, dumbass."

You clambered off of him albeit ungracefully since this gown was pretty heavy thanks to the many layers of fabric and you flailed your arms like a baby bird as you lost your balance.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch you before you fell but before you could thank him, he was already turning away and going to his side of the room.

But tried as he might, he couldn't stop staring at you even as you turned away.

As soon as he collected his luggage once more and dragged it over to his side of the bed that wasn't claimed by you, his thoughts drifted back to you once again as you twirled in the mirror, giggling to yourself as you remained completely oblivious to the vermilion gaze burning into your back.

He swore in his head. It was much harder to stop them from going rampant with that intoxicating scent of banana and citrus that came from a specific kind of lotion he knew you always put on ever since he got it for you.

It was a gift for the last Christmas your class shared in your third year in high school. And the only reason he bought you that was because fucking Raccoon-Eyes thought it would be a good idea to put a limit on the gift giving since Iida had gone all out last year and nearly flooded Heights Alliance with an obscene amount of presents.

Shinsou might've had a hand in helping deliver them.

But of fucking course you would be wearing it right now. He could smell it so clearly, it was so fragrant it was making his head go foggy.

Bakugou tried to concentrate on something, anything really that would get his mind off of you but to no avail.

Everywhere he looked, there was evidence of you and your light.

Your clothes folded neatly in the walnut dresser on the top drawer, your books on the nightstand, even all those bottles on the vanity in the joined bathroom that was connected to the bedroom that he didn't really think was necessary unless you were trying to scrape off your skin.

In the small walk-in closet, if it could even be classified as such, was filled only with your empty luggage and the hanger in which probably hung up the dress to prevent it from wrinkling before you put it on.

And now that he wasn't fucking fighting a battle with your stubborn zipper, Bakugou really got a chance to take you in.

The layers of pale green chiffon flowed around your ankles when you moved. Paired with billowy sleeves made from that same sheer material, it made you look ethereal. The bodice flattered your figure and the sweetheart neckline skimmed just below your collar bones, making you appear soft and pure, like a fairy who could bend nature to her will with just a kiss.

The lace back was beautifully intricate and the golden zipper was barely noticeable when you let go of your hair.

It cascaded down, the soft curls brushing against your shoulders and a glass butterfly clip was nestled in your hair to keep most of it away from your face, save for a few curled strands that framed your face.

You were breathtaking.

You raised an eyebrow curiously when Bakugou suddenly started to cough violently and worried that he had somehow managed to choke on his own spit, you gathered up your skirts and rushed over to him.

You weren't insulted when he brushed you off, shouting at you that he was fucking fine, but you didn't push the issue.

He grabbed his things from his suitcase and stomped off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and you were left wondering what all of that was about.

Shrugging to yourself, you figured that he would either deal with it himself or go to Kirishima if and when he needed help.

Now, you were faced with a completely different dilemma.

There was about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time to report downstairs and you still needed to put on your shoes. But it was nearly impossible to see over the poofy skirts of this dress.

Groaning in frustration, you threw your hands down exasperatedly from trying to get it on for the fourth time. This was getting old.

Then, your whole face lit up when you got an idea.

Practically throwing yourself face-down on the bed, you squirmed and wiggled around on the king-sized bed until your back was flat against the cushiony mattress and you huffed, blowing the hair out of your face as you stuck your legs up in the air, grabbing for the shoes to put on as you bent your knees.

It was an awkward position as your skirt obeyed gravity but it worked.

Two minutes later you had both of the heels on the right way and did up the laces properly.

Inwardly, you were wondering why you were even bothering to teeter on these stilts for the entirety of the party but they completely the look. Besides, you were almost sure that you guys were going to take pictures later, even if Bakugou would only join you guys for one.

You hummed to yourself, standing up and smoothing out your skirt. You were in the middle of fixing your hair when the lock to the bathroom clicked and out stepped Bakugou.

Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. Damn that man can clean up nice when he wasn't busy murdering villains.

A pressed suit adorned his broad frame and you had to swallow to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looked.

The suit was a classic black, with a crisp white shirt on the inside and his pants were clearly ironed before coming here. A red handkerchief peeked out from where it was tucked into his breast pocket and you swooned.

He had gotten everything right, right down to the shiny black dress shoes. You didn't know how it was possible to not have any wrinkles or a hair out of place as he slid up his embroidered tie with an irritated scowl, making the lapels lay flat with an aggressive swipe at the offending material.

You barely noticed his rising aggravation as they kept popping back up and he adjusted the cufflinks before jerking at the collar again.

"Here," You giggled. "Let me help."

Bakugou grumbled but lowered his hands and let you do as you pleased as you tucked it in further to get it to straighten out without popping back out.

"Thanks." He said gruffly and you flashed him a bright smile.

"Anytime!!"

Bakugou groaned quietly as you flounced out of the room. "You're too fucking cheerful."

You threw a charismatic smile his way as you skipped to the front door, making sure to grab your clutch on the way out. You didn't necessarily need your wallet tonight as you weren't planning on getting drunk but you weren't exactly comfortable leaving it in the hotel room.

Years of training had taught you that there were flaws in even the most advanced security systems.

"I didn't think you were going to dress up tonight." You commented casually as you waited for Bakugou to finish grabbing his wallet and phone before locking the door behind you two.

You were leaning against the glass barrier that surrounded the halls.

The Solaria Hotel was more than 100 floors, reminding you of the tower at I-Island that time you guys had to beat those villains to save the professor and restore order to the island. Bakugou's room was on the 80th floor, so you could see everything.

The layout of the circular building had basically ensured that it was hollowed out, rooms circled each floor and had an elevator on the north and south points of the building. In the empty space that you could see below as far as the eye could see, they had crystals suspended in the air that changed color periodically.

He scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he fell in step beside you and you tore away from your admiration of the ingenuity of the architecture.

"Shitty Hair made me fucking wear this shit." Bakugou said through clenched teeth as he recalled Kirishima begging him to wear it so they could match tonight. He wasn't going to cave but then fucking Raccoon-Eyes threatened not to feed him.

That wouldn't bother him except for the fact that he wouldn't be able to see you and all the shitty extras would be free to hit on you.

Not on his fucking watch.

Of course, this was decided before he knew you were going to be crashing in his room. He could cook for himself just fine, he didn't need to eat that overpriced shit that Ponytail Girl and Emergency Exit fucking paid for but now he was going anyways because there was no way in hell you were attending alone.

Covering your smile behind your hand, you teased that no matter what he said, he would do anything for Kirishima if he asked and Bakugou exploded at you, right there, in the middle of the hallway.

You shrieked as he launched himself at you and you ran for your life, panting hard as you reached the vacant elevators in the nick of time, frantically pushing the button to get it to close before Bakugou caught up.

Hope swelled in your chest when the doors started to close but it plummeted when a hand stopped it just before it shut completely.

Bakugou licked his lips as he pushed them back open and you backed into the corner to get as far away from him as possible as he advanced.

You gasped when his hands slammed on either side of your head, the soft ding of the elevator doors closing lost on both of you as his eyes bore into yours.

"Time to fucking pay, dumbass." He smirked, leaning in close.

You glanced over his shoulder, quickly concluding that you wouldn't reach the first floor for a good minute and decided you needed to come up with a distraction to ensure you would live to eat at least a morsel of the heavenly food that awaited you.

Bakugou's eyes flew open as you boldly took a step forward, pressing yourself against him and he swallowed hard when your finger teasingly trailed down from his shoulder to his chest. He swore that even though he was wearing two layers, he could feel your touch as though there were no clothes between you two.

The glass of the elevator was transparent and if anyone were looking closely enough, they would be able to see how he was pinning you to the wall with no space between the two of you.

"Aw~" You cooed, batting your lashes at him prettily. "That's such a shame... I was really looking forward to tonight."

He fucking knew you were toying with him, making it sound like a implication that you wanted him to take you back to his room but he fucking knew that you loved food more than any other shit so you had to be messing with him.

But it was pretty hard to believe when you looked up at him so innocently.

Bakugou's mouth pulled back in a heated snarl and it took everything in him not to close the distance and crash his lips onto yours, claiming you for himself tonight, tomorrow, and every other night that was to come.

Your expression cleared as the elevator came to a halt and Bakugou, who had been bracing himself over you, was thrown off balance.

"We're here!!" You announced excitedly, skipping past him for the second time that night.

He slapped a hand to his forehead and rushed out of the elevator into the lobby to catch up with you.

Fuck, what was wrong with him tonight?

The layout of the first five floors were a bit different than the residence area since those were designated for recreational activities and an extensive training gym.

The lobby was beautiful, even though you had skimmed by it earlier just to figure out where you were going to stay since the reservations had been messed up but now you got a good look at it.

A huge crystal chandelier sparkled from the ceiling and your heels clicked as you walked across the polished marble tile.

Everything was gold and white, clean and shining so bright that you could see your reflection in all the surfaces that you looked in. The golden edging along the wainscot and the Victorian details in the carvings along the panels of the ceiling were incredibly well done.

It branched off into several sections, the ambiguity of the lobby enabling them to have several private rooms covered with a heavy velvet curtain to maintain complete privacy.

The only thing that distinguished this floor from looking like a private establishment altogether was the very noticeable front desk in which the staff were stationed.

You were told that there was minimal staff to ensure the utmost respect and privacy but you were glad to see human faces as opposed to all the high-tech the hotel had ingrained into it to make the stay as pleasant as possible.

You didn't know why but it was nice to have a human touch in a world advancing so fast that artificial intelligence and robots were becoming more and more prevalent.

At least you could soak in that hot tub later to forget about anything and everything, relaxing in a blissful state until they kicked you out.

You could sort of recall Mina telling you about it over the phone but you were busy packing so you couldn't pay too much attention to her. But you were pretty sure she said something about a state-of-the-art pool and made another mental note to check it out later once you got out of this ridiculous getup.

Your confidence and schoolgirl excitement that came from dressing up dwindled bit by bit until you were left standing outside of the ballroom in a nervous wreck.

Judging by the music you could hear inside and all the lively chatter, most if not all were already there, and now you were having second thoughts as you anxiously played with your sleeves.

It wasn't that you didn't think you looked good, you really loved how you looked, it was just... you were feeling a bit self-conscious now that you were about to go in.

It was the same feeling that you had right before you had to try out for the hero agency of your dreams right after graduation. You were a bundle of nerves that day but at least then you could prove yourself by using your quirk to fight and take out bad guys.

You highly doubted that Yaoyorozu or Mina would be amused if you took on that same attitude and ripped the dress to shreds.

Regardless of the fact that it was expensive, you really wanted to follow through with this despite the anxiety you were feeling right now.

Bakugou hung back once he caught up to you, chest heaving slightly. You were faster than he remembered. But as he noticed that you were fighting with something internally, he arched an eyebrow and argued with himself about whether or not it was a good idea to ask what shit was stopping you from going in.

By the time he told himself to fuck off and just do it, you had straightened your shoulders and opened the doors yourself.

A wide grin split across his face and he shook his head, in a mixture of begrudging admiration and a hell of a lot of disbelief.

You were fucking strong. No doubt about that.

He knew how much shit you had been through in high school. Your social anxiety was no fucking joke, you had real reactions to situations that stressed you out, but you were dealing with it time and time again just to push through and do what you loved.

That wasn't to say that you didn't fail at times but he was so fucking proud of you for asking the shitheads for help when you needed it.

Because you deserved it.

None of them judged you for it. Hell, Shoji had anxiety just like you, Ponytail Girl still had issues with her self-esteem frequently when her ability as a hero was being called into question by the press who often brought up her revealing hero costume as though that was the only thing that defined her, Icyhot was still dealing with the aftermath of his own trauma when something triggered him and Deku wasn't perfect either.

Your class had been through everything together. You guys were each other's family and were there for each other. Always.

You guys trusted each other with your lives and it was safe to say that you would go to bat for any of the others should they ever be in danger.

Bakugou was broken out of his thoughts as an all-too-cheerful voice shattered his trance.

"Bakugou, lookin' sharp!!" Kirishima called out, cupping his hands over his mouth so that his voice carried further.

Unfortunately, it caused a lot of other people to look his way and Bakugou's face twisted into a scowl.

"Fuck off, Shitty Hair."

Kirishma laughed, the bright sound relaying just how much his language never bothered him and he skipped over to loop his arm through the grumpy ash-blond's.

"Aw, what's got you so angry?" Kirishima teased with a grin, coming around on his other side to sling his arm around his shoulders when Bakugou threw him off.

Bakugou scowled, refusing to reply and his best friend's grin grew.

"So..." He drew out smugly. "I see you arrived with Y/N. Does that mean you finally manned up and told her how you feel?"

You whipped your head around in shock, breaking off your conversation with Jirou when you heard the explosion, and fell into a fit of giggles as the smoke from Bakugou's quirk cleared. Iida and Midoriya were doing damage control to a pent-up Bakugou and Todoroki was standing off to the side for moral support.

As for Kirishima and Kaminari, who had happened to be on his way to greet the pomeranian when the explosion occurred, were slapping their thighs and howling obnoxiously, tears leaking out of their eyes from laughing so hard.

Yaoyorozu shook her head. It was too early in the night to deal with all of this.

She sighed, gracefully putting a hand over her heart. "It seems like Bakugou-san's temper has not changed."

You snickered along with Jirou, who was covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stop the fit of uncontrollable laughter that had taken over her body when she saw Kaminari's hair sticking straight up due to the fire.

"Oh no, that definitely hasn't changed." You giggled, biting your lip to curb your smile when Bakugou glared at you as if he had heard you even though you were too far away to be within his earshot.

His vermilion eyes narrowed accusingly and you held up your hands in surrender, an innocent expression painted on your features.

Your giggle came out muffled when your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip and you ducked to hide behind Yaoyorozu when Bakugou started stomping over in your direction.

"Hide me!!" You yelped and Jirou rolled her eyes.

"He's already seen you." She pointed out, forgetting her earlier uncomfortability when you first sought her out upon your arrival.

The two of you tended to stick together for these kinds of things, since you both were equally out of your element when it came to formal wear and all things classified as girly.

And the dress code for tonight was a strict one. Girls had to wear dresses and guys a suit. The only exception was Shoji and that was only because no company could ever tailor a suit right to accommodate his dupi-arms.

You hunched down further, trying to make yourself smaller but it didn't do any good as a firm grip encircled your wrist and yanked you out from your terrible hiding place.

"I can still fucking see you." Bakugou seethed, sparks popping in the palms of his hands and you smiled nervously.

"Uh... Ah!! Wait—" Your objections were cut short when he dragged you away from the others. "Where are we going?!"

Yaoyorozu and Jirou exchanged a sympathetic look with each other.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Yaoyorozu asked softly, her eyes worried.

Todoroki appeared beside her and sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. "They will be fine but perhaps we should give them a minute so Bakugou can collect himself."

"Iida-kun, is dinner ready?" Midoriya asked to take the attention off the two of you as the prospect of food was brought up and the former class rep vigorously nodded.

"Affirmative!!" He shouted, thrusting his hand high in the air to gather everyone as his old classmates started to drift towards him. "Let us sit in groups of four to make it easy for the staff to clean up, Class A!!"

Kaminari elbowed Shinsou in the ribs, interrupting his conversation with Tsuyu. "Do we still have to do what he says even though he's not the boss of us anymore?"

Shinsou sighed, running his hands through his hair and Tsuyu had a suspicion that it wasn't the first time he had asked this. "Yes, Kaminari. Because if you don't, you probably won't get to eat."

Kaminari's jaw dropped all the way to the floor but he recovered in a second, racing to his seat.

Tsuyu tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully as she and Shinsou began to follow the overzealous blond to the tables that Iida was seating everyone at. "Do you really think Iida-chan would stop him?"

Shinsou chuckled, giving her one of his rare smiles as he pulled out the seat for her before sitting down himself at the table that held a fidgeting Kaminari and nervous-looking Kirishima.

Crooking a finger, he motioned her to come closer so he could whisper it without him hearing. "Nah, but it's fun to mess with him."

Tsuyu giggled, waving at Ochako and Mina from the other table since the six round tables were set up relatively close to each other in the huge ballroom, forming a circle.

They were currently towards the front where all the appetizers on tables lined with white cloth were served before the main course. Then, there was some kind of game set up on the adjacent side that looked like beer pong and the empty space at the back took up the majority of the ballroom was left alone as a dance floor for the upbeat music that would resume later on.

With a flick of her earphone jack, Jirou changed the playlist to classical and lowered the volume just as the food was coming out.

Mineta complained that the music was too slow and boring for his taste but he didn't argue anymore when Jirou silently threatened to electrocute him. Shoji coughed into his hand and grinned at the girl's spunk while Yaoyorozu just smiled.

Koda was signing to Aoyama. Even though he had gotten more comfortable talking with all of them, everyone's chatter was making it hard to hear, so as he relayed details about his latest mission, Ojiro was engaged in a discussion with Sato about whether or not food coloring was necessary in modern day society when more and more ingredients were being revealed to be unhealthy in nature.

Sero was trying to teach Hagakure how to fold a napkin into a swam while Todoroki and Tokoyami talked about the latest hero news after exchanging pleasantries.

And Midoriya, Ochako, Mina and Iida filled up table five. Which left just the one for the two who had yet to sit in their seats.

Iida shook with restraint before abruptly standing up to shout for you and Bakugou who were still talking in the far corner about something he couldn't hear but Midoriya caught his arm and eased him back down.

The food had just come out and it was hot. He had helped Iida order food for tonight so he knew it was going to be good.

Each table got five different kinds of entrées to share, hence why they could only fit four people at each table instead of five like Iida had initially planned since the piping hot food coming out from the kitchen was monstrous and would take up a ton of space.

Wagyu beef, fugu, kujira, basashi, otoro, fresh-steamed vegetables and even yubari melon for a refreshing taste was set down on gold-rimmed platters and left to be ravished by the hungry people eyeing it like some sort of animal.

Everyone was hungry, and Midoriya knew you wouldn't mind if you guys started ahead so he opened it up to his fellow heroes, and even though he knew Kacchan might say something about it later, he still clapped his hands together and dug in.

Some of them, like Kaminari, Aoyama and surprisingly Tsuyu followed his lead and tore in right away, while others like Tokoyami, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were too busy with their own conversations to be bothered with the food at the moment.

Kaminari stopped stuffing his mouth long enough to glance at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye.

"What's the matter?" He asked and with his cheeks stuffed full it was a little hard to hear him but Kirishima got his point.

His brow drew together worriedly. "They kind of look like they're arguing."

It was true. You did look like you were engaged in a heated spat with Bakugou, but Kirishima was way off.

Ten feet away, you planted your hands firmly on your hips and glared at him as your voice rose an octave. "Excuse me?!"

Bakugou barely stopped in time from snapping his teeth at you. At this point, he was going to rip out his hair if you didn't concede and admit that he was right. "You fucking heard me."

Your mouth pressed in a hard line. "I can't believe you would say that."

A beat of tense silence passed and then you exploded.

You threw up your hands in frustration. "Aizawa's would clearly beat All Might in a battle, he can erase his quirk for crying out loud!!"

"All Might was the Number 1 Hero." Bakugou ground out angrily through gritted teeth. "And he's as strong as shit even without his quirk."

"Not everything is about strength!!" You fired back but he wasn't done.

He continued to go on a rant just to prove to you that All Might would be the one to fucking beat your old homeroom teacher if they ever versed each other in a one on one battle.

How you got here, you had no idea.

It started with him dragging you away and before he spun you around and backed you into a corner, demanding to know just what was being said about him.

After dangling tease after tease at him, the stiffness in his shoulders wasn't lost on you and you told him flat out that you three had just been commenting on his temper when he looked your way, making the timing seem like he had heard you and you found it hilarious.

Bakugou's expression crumpled as he realized he had gotten it wrong and let insecurity get the best of him, to which his eyes shot open when he realized he had said that last part out loud.

You were faster than him though, as you reassured that it was okay to be feeling that way and apologized for teasing him before he could even say a word to amend his mistake.

It had then transitioned to him quietly asking why you stopped outside of the door before you went inside and you paused before hesitantly revealing that it was because you had a fleeting thought that you didn't actually look as good as you thought you did and he frowned.

Your eyes rounded as wide as saucers as he went off on you, fucking you over for thinking that and telling you straight up that you were fucking stunning.

It was doing bad things to your heart as it flopped pathetically in your rib cage and your hands automatically went up to cover your cheeks which you were sure were bright red.

Bakugou didn't touch you but his eyes scorched into you with such conviction that you eventually lowered them yourself and thanked him softly for saying that to you.

To which he scoffed and said it was obvious and that he'd have to be fucking blind not to see you.

Cue more blood rushing to your face.

From there, the conversation went from insecurities to a short story you brought up when Aizawa had helped you boost your self-confidence and Bakugou retorted with his own story of All Might when he stopped him from annihilating Deku in Ground Beta in your first year of high school.

Things only got more competitive as you shot back that Aizawa had helped him too on countless occasions, the hothead countering by bringing up the time All Might saved you single-handedly when you had gotten captured in a fight.

Knowing your hands were tied for that particular instance, you shifted it back to Aizawa's strengths and Bakugou retorted with All Might's own.

And that's where you ended up. Having a staring contest while the rest of your old classmates watched raptly from the sidelines and wondered just what had got you both so worked up.

"Admit your defeat, dumbass." Bakugou grinned cockily, sticking his face in yours. "And then you can fucking get your shit."

Your eyes flickered up to his since even though you were wearing heels, you were still shorter than him. A hint of mischief glimmered in your eyes as a smile played upon your lips.

"Actually, I think you lost this round, Boom Boy."

Before he got a chance to open his mouth and object to that ridiculous nickname you had given him from your youth, you ducked under his arm and made a break for it towards the tables.

"Fucking— GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!!" He yelled after you, breaking into a sprint but you were too far ahead of him.

You ducked behind Iida for protection and he stood up tall, unwavering as Bakugou skidded to a halt.

"Bakugou!! That's enough!!" Iida shouted, holding his hand out for him to stop as he tried to get around him.

The whole class watched and waited to see what he would do, slurping on food obnoxiously while they all waited.

"Tch." Bakugou smirked, grounding his fist into the palm of his hand as it lit up. "Is that a fucking challenge?!"

"NO!!!" Iida thundered, clearing his throat and repositioning his glasses as he collected himself. "Now, the two of you need to sit down and eat. We are behind schedule."

"There's a schedule?" You whispered to Bakugou as you crept out from behind the safety of Iida's back. "Did you know about this?"

He snorted, putting out his explosion with a huff. "Damn right."

You tilted your head but followed him obediently to the only available table piled high with food that had luckily not gone cold.

Bakugou hid a smile as he saw you wiggle in your seat out of the corner of his eye, clicking his tongue in annoyance when you happened to look his way.

Of fucking course you would still look so damn cute when you were excited.

Since he was fucking starving, he ate with gusto, but only after he made sure you were actually going to eat.

Due to the side effects of using your quirk, it sometimes made you nauseous and you have had trouble keeping food down ever since you threw up on the first day of school.

He knew that most heavily seasoned dishes you had more of a difficulty keeping down so he wasn't surprised when he saw you go for the soup out of all the things you could've picked from.

Lively conversation filled the air, gossip and talk about the latest modifications to your hero costumes all the rage as topics blended into everyone's tables since they were all in close proximity to one another.

At least, most of them.

Since you had come late to dinner, you had a gut feeling that your classmates all ganged up on you and Bakugou, shoving the two of you here together.

The girls knew of your crush on him. It came out one night when you guys were playing truth or dare, like everyone did back in the day, and Hagakure and Mina hadn't let you forget it since then.

But what you didn't know was that the same could be said for Bakugou.

Fucking Shitty Hair did this on purpose. Bakugou raged inwardly while you remained blissfully unaware of the rampage going on beneath the surface. I fucking knew it was a bad idea to tell him about it.

He had asked his best friend for advice on what to get you for your birthday when you were in your second year and to say the very least, it wasn't hard for Kirishima to piece it together.

Fucking hell. The shit he gave him for it made him instantly regret it and he stormed out with pink cheeks, determined to find you the perfect gift on his own, thinking that this year would finally be the year that you noticed him and saw him in the same light that he saw you in.

Nope.

You had gotten sick on your birthday and by the time you healed, your birthday had come and gone and nobody said anything about it so he never gave it to you, throwing it away after another week passed and it was clear he didn't have the courage to give it to you.

You looked up at him, mouth resembling a chipmunk's as you chewed on the food you had been looking forward to all day. "Whasthematferwifyu?"

Bakugou choked. "What the fuck?!"

When you opened your mouth to speak again, he snapped at you, "Fucking finish chewing or you'll choke, dumbass!!"

"You mean like you just did?" You asked cheekily as you swallowed and he glared at you.

"Shut the fuck up."

"M'kay~" You sang.

Banter between you two was few and far in between since you two had bickered already for a good portion of the evening. The fight was called a draw for the time being as it was put on pause to fill your bellies with good food and you had to say, you were glad you came.

Dinner wrapped up after another hour and one by one, everyone started to trickle onto the dance floor.

Everyone except for Bakugou, who was at the drinks table and glaring at each bottle of alcohol that he picked through, and you and Kirishima, who had halted you when you moved to join Ochako and Tsuyu, was breaking it down to Jirou's EDM music she put together for tonight.

Kaminari was already drunk. You didn't know how that was possible but based off of the way he was playing with Ojiro's tail, refusing to detach from it even after he politely asked him to let go, you could conclude as such pretty confidently.

You followed Kirishima curiously as he led you away from everyone else, interest piqued when he brought you to where the appetizers that were previously were being replaced with desserts and your confusion grew when he inched as far to the wall as he possibly could.

"Kiri?" You questioned. "Why are we—"

"Shh!!!" He shushed quickly, waving his hands frantically, his eyes darting everywhere as though he was about to tell you something that could land him in jail.

Or worse.

He motioned you to come closer so that nobody else would hear and you scooted towards him, until his mouth was right by your ear.

And then, your jaw dropped in shock.

"WHATTTTT?!?!" You shrieked and Kirishima hushed you hurriedly, smiling apologetically at a skeptical Bakugou who looked your way due to your volume.

You took a hint but your outrage didn't fade. "What the fuck, Kiri?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

Red Riot had just oh so kindly informed you that it was in fact, Bakugou's birthday.

Today.

If what he told you was the truth, which at this point you really didn't know, Mina, Sero and Kaminari were the only other ones who knew. You wouldn't put it past Midoriya to also be included in that group, seeing as how they were childhood friends who moved past their intense rivalry stage and developed a decent amount of healthy competition as pros.

But that still didn't explain why he was telling you this now.

Oh wait.

Shit.

If that was true, then you had barged into his room uninvited because you didn't want to sleep in the same room as Mineta, on his birthday.

You cursed yourself under your breath and without another word, you tore past Kirishima with a hurried apology and a half-assed excuse to pardon your abrupt exit and sprinted towards the elevators, your heart pounding. You didn't stop running until you reached the room, grabbing all your things and throwing them in your suitcase, thoughts running wild at how stupid you could be.

You hadn't even bothered to take off your dress before gathering your things hastily, you were that distracted.

As you stuffed the last of your things in your bag, you circled the room, realizing you now didn't know the next step to this plan of yours.

You really should've thought this through before you came upstairs and talked to one of the receptionists downstairs to see if another arrangement can be made. Or maybe you could persuade one of the girls to let you crash for one night until you could figure things out for the next day.

You were sure Yaoyorozu would concede if you begged hard enough.

But you didn't want to take a chance of Bakugou seeing you so you didn't linger in the lobby, which was in clear view of where the party was being held.

This was bad, you didn't have anywhere to go. You would need to go talk to someone for another room which means you have to go back downstairs.

Well, maybe not. Maybe you could call downstairs and have them—

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

You froze at the temperamental voice seething with fury and dropped the hotel phone you had grabbed in the heat of the moment, squeaking when you saw how livid Bakugou looked and tripped over your feet, falling backwards onto the bed.

Your body bounced as it hit the mattress and you covered your face as he strode toward you, and you bolted back up to your feet, mumbling through your fingers.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea it was your birthday today!!!" You squeaked, mortified you had been acting so casually on such an important day. You didn't even have a present for him and you gave him overcooked food after trampling on his privacy!!

Leaning against the doorway, Bakugou raised an eyebrow and scoffed irritably as he put the pieces together for himself. "Shitty Hair should've fucking kept his mouth shut."

"I didn't know!!" You cried out, mistaking his rage geared towards his best friend for barging in on his personal space even after he so clearly told you off when he first saw you. Like an idiot, you had thought that he really didn't mind.

Maybe you couldn't read him as well as you thought you could.

"I don't care." Bakugou snarled, annoyed that you didn't seem to get it after all this time as he stomped forward, closing the door behind him and clicking the lock with finality as you tried to scramble past him. "Where do you think you're going, shithead? I didn't say you could fucking leave."

You did a double take and blinked slowly, unsure you really heard him right. It was true you hadn't considered that a possibility, this was Bakugou you were talking about. He hated everybody.

Well, not really, but close enough to make it so that you were sure that he wanted his privacy.

Especially on his birthday.

"I-I—"

Bakugou rolled his eyes irritably. You didn't get it. Fucking fine.

Your eyes shot open as he smashed his lips onto yours but before you even had a chance to do anything about it, shove him off or pull him closer, though it was more likely the latter, he was gone.

Standing with an indifferent expression on his face, he loomed over you and your heart leapt in your throat.

"Holy— Is this real?" You asked breathlessly, fingers tentatively reaching out to run over his tie and make sure you weren't dreaming.

Bakugou smirked at the awe in your voice and it only grew bigger when he noticed how glassy your eyes looked. So he did have the same fucking effect on you that you did on him.

Good.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He declared, crowding you closer as he stepped forward, hot breath puffing out against your lips and you shivered.

You blinked slowly, looking up at him from under your lashes. "... And if I don't want you to?"

"Fuck—" Was all Bakugou got out before he was surging forward, grabbing your shoulders so you couldn't escape.

A muffled squeak tumbled from your lips before it was smothered and you gasped into his mouth as your knees hit the edge of the bed.

As you fell, Bakugou climbed onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress, never once breaking the kiss as he cushioned your fall. His hands fell to your waist as the other entwined in your hair and he let out a groan as you playfully nipped his bottom lip.

"Shit," He breathed when you broke away first, lungs burning with the need for oxygen but you had barely taken a breath when he tilted your jaw back towards him and connected your lips again, harder this time.

It was hot, too hot and he moved languidly in a way that contrasted so starkly with his short-tempered personality that it made your head spin.

"W-What?!" You exclaimed in shock as soon as he drew back to let you breathe, your hands covering your flushed cheeks despite the fact that he could still see you due to the proximity. "Where did that even come from?!"

You were all flustered now and your dress had slipped down a bit further, giving him a peek of what was to come if he didn't stop soon.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. If you didn't get it now, you were even more of an idiot than he thought.

"You can stay." He mumbled gruffly, dropping his gaze from yours.

It took a minute to understand what he was saying.

Coming to your senses, you grinned as you processed his words. He didn't say no outright to what you asked directly so you would take it. The hesitance had all been reduced to a trickle as it caused a hiccup in your thoughts but you tried to see it in a different light.

Maybe he really didn't mind, he wasn't one to lie, especially for no reason. Maybe he was feeling lonely and wanted company for tonight.

Maybe... he liked you too? Was that too far-fetched to believe?

"Really?" You smirked as you waggled your eyebrows at him. "You want someone to keep you warm tonight?

Bakugou flipped you off and you burst out laughing. Wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down after a few moments, you grinned.

"I had no idea you could be so soft, Bakugou." You teased lightly.

He scowled angrily and sat up, folding his arms over his chest as he stared down at you. "Shut up, you don't make it fucking easy."

You were being such a fucking nuisance. He regretted saying anything in the first place. Who had so many questions after somebody kissed them?

Your eyes glinted mischievous. "Oh yeah?"

He did something you didn't expect.

"Yeah..." Bakugou trailed off quietly, something resembling fondness flickering in the depths of his vermilion eyes.

Your heart started to beat faster and you swallowed. His face was a millimeter away from yours and it was getting harder to breath. His body temperature was so high that you could feel the heat emitting from his form and engulfing you like a warm hug.

"When did it start?" You asked softly, curiosity winning out against the flutter of embarrassment you felt in your chest.

He didn't say it out loud but he didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes that same love that you held for him. How you went all this time without seeing it, you didn't know.

Bakugou's throat bobbed as he dodged your inquisitive gaze, his eyes only darting back to you when you sat upright and smoothed your dress as best as you possibly could to prevent it from wrinkling.

"I dunno." He mumbled quietly. "Since high school or some shit."

"High school?!" You shrieked in disbelief, nearly falling over as you realized it had started around the same time your feelings for him developed. You expected him to say within the last few months when you’ve been working together more frequently, not that he started liking you back at UA!!

He groaned at your grating volume against his ears. Too loud.

"Well hell if I know, shitty woman." He growled loudly. "I can't fucking remember everything."

You grin widened. "That sounds like denial~"

His mouth twisted back in an irritated frown. You were crazy. But somehow, that didn't put him off as much as he claimed to believe.

"It was after the training camp."

You bolted upright at that. You were not expecting him to say that.

After you two were stolen by the League right out from underneath your classmates' noses, you two were put in separate rooms until it was clear you refused to listen to what you had to say until you saw that Bakugou was okay.

He knew, the second they brought you in all chained to the chair and shit just like he was, that he was going to raise hell and murder every single last one of them.

He couldn't go ballistic yet, because as your tired but alert eyes met his from across the room, he knew that this setup increased your chances.

All you needed was an opening.

Shigaraki and Dabi had turned their attention on your first, trying to recruit you and you had tricked them, pretending to sympathize with their cause and got them to trust you by feeding Shigaraki's dark nature and Dabi's sadistic side.

You took their attention off of him and damn it, if it wasn't the bravest and baddest fucking move he'd ever seen.

The both of you had your own nightmares from that terrifying experience.

You couldn't stand to be restrained after that, even if it was only for a second, and Bakugou hated having anything touch his neck.

After he finished telling you all of that, you tackled him in a hug.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch himself as the two of you toppled over before you crashed to the ground and he muttered a curse into your hair when you nuzzled into his chest.

"Dumbass." He remarked under his breath, hoping you couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding. "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" You hummed, momentarily forgetting what it was that you were talking about since all you could think about now was how his eyes shone with unshed tears as he relieved that terrible memory. But the fact that you were able to give him some small sense of comfort even though you were truthfully freaking out on the inside at the time, was the best thing he could've ever told you.

Well, right next to the depth of his feelings for you.

Bakugou scoffed and scooted forward so that the two of you were teetering on the edge of the mattress. A concussion was not how he wanted tonight to end.

"Tell me when all of your shitty feelings started." He demanded with a blush present on his cheeks and you bit your lip to contain a giggle.

Laying your head on his chest, you idly traced patterns on his shirt since he had shed it outer jacket. "I don't know exactly when it turned from a crush into actual love, but when you got hospitalized, I supposed I realized it then."

Bakugou jerked, stiffening as you mentioned the incident no one ever brought up.

Taking note of his reaction, you affirmed quietly. "We don't have to talk about it, but that's when it started. When I saw how close I could've been to losing you."

Bakugou's heavy breath eased up bit by bit as those words fell from your lips and he closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to talk about it now, but he thought that he would like to one day. If you were still by his side.

The next twenty minutes were spent entangled in each other's embrace as you two made up for lost time, talking about anything and everything came to mind.

Your old infatuation with Shindou that was short-lived because of your feelings for him and Bakugou couldn't help gloating that you were his even then.

How much he longed that he had confessed sooner. Maybe then you would've had those years together.

But he didn't dwell on it, he knew that it would become one of his demons if he lived in the past instead of the present and instead focused on combing his fingers through your hair, reveling in your closeness.

He hummed lowly as he caught a whiff of your fragrance. "Banana and citrus, huh?"

You beamed up at him, twisting around to look at him properly. "You gave it to me!!"

Bakugou smirked, hooking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Damn right I did."

After realizing that the two of you couldn't cuddle forever in your formal wear, you reluctantly untangled from him and started to take off your dress, only to find out that you couldn't do that without his help.

Your breath caught in your throat when he came to stand right behind you, just like before, only this time he was much closer to you, fingertips ghosting over your bare skin in the zipper's wake as he trailed light kisses down your back until he reached the curve of the small of your back.

You whined when he stopped and a smirk curved against the juncture where your shoulder met your neck and you swatted at him playfully.

Bakugou made you sit down so he could take your shoes off before you fell and broke something.

You pouted but did as you were told, quite liking how his calloused hands skimmed over your shins and ankles, and you gasped when he pressed a chaste kiss to your knee.

"Stop teasing me." You whined and he flashed you a grin, tossing your shoes somewhere else.

Bakugou relished in your flustered state, loving how he could make you like this with barely any effort. "It's your fucking turn now, shithead."

"Hey!!"

It was only until after Bakugou had gotten dressed in comfy clothes of his choice, a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitted long sleeve that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, did you realize it was getting colder and colder by the minute.

The heater was broken and after multiple attempts of tinkering with the settings to get it to start, Bakugou was about to set the thing on fire, but you stopped him just in time.

"Shitty heater." He muttered frustratingly, his palms still popping with sparks. "Fucking five stars my ass."

He threw a tantrum for another minute before giving up, not even bothering to call downstairs to get them to fix it because he didn't want anyone in his 'personal space'. Oddly enough, you felt kind of happy that he was letting you in his personal space without any a fight.

You giggled and he raised an eyebrow at you after throwing you his hoodie, begrudgingly, but he still did it so you weren't complaining about the temperature. "It's just, I never imagined you'd be the one to confess."

He turned to you, a mix of irritation and poorly suppressed puzzlement on his face. "Hah?"

You bit back a smile at his tamed reaction. How cute.

"It's just in all the scenarios in my head," You drew your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top. "I was always the one confessing to you and then getting rejected."

Bakugou scoffed, stomping over to you with a slight pout that would've been unnoticeable if the light was any dimmer. The curtains had been drawn, basking the room in a warm glow that came from the fairy lights strung around the room that had you failed to notice earlier.

"Yeah, well, now fucking look what happened." He grumbled, flicking a piece of lint off your head. "You invaded my room like a cockroach or some shit."

You were sitting upright against the headboard on top of the velvet comforter without a care in the world as your sweater paws flapped playfully. In such a high-end hotel room, the two of you in casual attire looked sorely out of place but it didn't matter.

You were happier than ever before.

"Uh, excuse me, I take offense to that analogy." You teased back with a cheeky grin, shoving his shoulder when he crawled on the bed with you, abandoning his quest to fix the heater. "And I do recall mentioning how it was either this or Mineta's room, so it's not my fault."

Bakugou's mouth twisted into a scowl as you said the pervert's name and he huffed before looping his arms around your waist and laying flat on your legs. His head buried into your stomach, your eyes softened and you brushed the hair back from his eyes, his eyelids closing at the soothing sensation of you carding your fingers through his hair.

You hummed to yourself as he started drifting off. "Soft..."

"Fuck off." He mumbled into your waist but there was none of the usual venom to it.

Your chest shook with laughter at his unusual response but when you moved to stop just like he had ordered, he caught your wrist. You raised an eyebrow as he looked away from you, the red tint adorning his cheeks giving away what he wanted you to do and without a word, you obliged without so much as a hidden smile.

Bakugou sank into you, his broad shoulders going lax as all the tension melted from his body and he sighed peacefully. He hated socializing. The only good part of that reunion Raccoon-Eyes had coordinated was seeing you all dressed up.

He didn't tell you at the time, he honestly couldn't say it. He was fucking speechless the second you stepped out of the room.

But you looked like a vision underneath those flashy lights that hurt his eyes in the ballroom. You were absolutely stunning and put all of those other extras to shame. He didn't even spew an insult he was going to when he overheard Raccoon-Eyes squeal and proclaim how gorgeous you looked because she wasn't wrong.

You were beautiful. And way out of his league.

It was all he could think about all the way down the elevator and into the party, even after you broke off from him. At least, it was all he could think about until Dunce Face decided to make a move on you, being all suave and slick.

At the time, he was ready to storm over there and break it up until you laughed at something Kaminari said and he was painfully reminded of how you weren't his.

He then proceeded to drown all of his sorrows at the bar but cursed his inability to get shit-faced due to his high tolerance.

Exploding in a fit of rage over the culmination of how dazzling you were, how some guy was probably going to get lucky tonight and it wasn't going to be him, and how fucked up the situation was that you were going to be staying with him while he had a raging boner for you 24/7, he stalked upstairs to go pout in the corner only to find you stammering out apologies and packing your suitcase.

He vaguely remembered something about you saying something about his birthday and that's when he snapped.

To put it bluntly, he had never been a fan of celebrating useless holidays. People ate food and used it as an excuse to all gather in one place and socialize with all their fake friends, he hated scenes like that.

Which is why he was against this reunion at first but something in the back of his mind convinced him to come. Something that said that if he showed up, there was a good chance that you would be here too and it would make all of this worth it.

And that was only confirmed when Kirishima slipped that little tidbit of information in his invitation via text.

Bakugou couldn't believe his luck when he walked into his hotel room and you were standing right there. There was something so soft, so domestic about it that had him dropping his bag instantaneously and he fought to rein in his instincts to stride over to you and hug you from behind. He would rest his chin on your shoulder and ask what you were cooking, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as he hinted at what he wanted to do before the kids came home.

That was the type of future he had always envisioned with you. The one he always thought would be unobtainable. The one that he constantly dreamed about anytime he got a break from the nightmares and darkness that plagued his thoughts constantly.

And now you were all his. All of that was suddenly possible. He had a chance with the best thing that ever walked into his life and he wasn't going to screw it up.

Realistically, and he was a very realistic person despite being short-tempered, he knew he was getting ahead of himself. Take it slow, he had to tell himself to take it slow.

You hummed, bringing him back down to reality. "Where's that head of yours at?"

"Fuck off and die."

But his threat came out muffled as his face was currently nuzzled into your stomach and you couldn't stop the fit of laughter that burst out as you giggled uncontrollably, laughing even harder when he looked up to glare at you, only for his eyes to be so glazed over from how relaxed he was that you would've mistaken it for subspace if not for his mouth twitching irritably.

"Aw, is baby maybe a little comfy?"

He hissed and untangled himself from you, pouting like a little kid as he created some distance between you two. "I'm not a fucking baby."

You cooed and pinched his cheeks, pulling them apart slightly and giggled at how squishy he looked in that moment. "Dummy."

Bakugou snorted arrogantly but didn't shove you off despite his hard glare. "The only dumbass here is you."

"I didn't say dumbass, I said dummy." You corrected matter-of-factly. "And besides, it's a term of endearment, Katsuki."

He rolled his eyes but his heart trembled dangerously as he heard his given name fall from your lips so sweetly for the first time. He would never get tired of hearing that.

Bakugou cleared his throat and removed your hands from his face, your forlorn pout not passing by unnoticed.

"Fucking idiot." He mumbled under his breath, bringing a hand up to rest it on your head briefly as he leaned his forehead against yours for a second.

You grinned, a full-blown smile that caused his heart to skip a beat at how radiant you were. And then, he got an idea.

But you were surprised when he suddenly got up and tilted your head curiously when he exited the room.

Unlike before when you were so quick to jump to a conclusion, you assumed he had a reason for leaving so abruptly without explanation.

The gears turned in your head as you followed him out, bringing the blanket with for good measure because you were freezing. Until the maintenance could get here, you would have to deal with the chill. Apparently this was an issue that didn't just pertain to you.

Todoroki had texted you and said he was having issues with his too, along with some others who had filed out from the ballroom to crash in their own rooms for the night.

But waiting wasn't too hard. Perhaps you could persuade your new boyfriend to cuddle you.

You poked your head around the corner, growing even more puzzled as Bakugou stomped around, grabbing his keys first before hunting for something else.

"What are you doing?" You asked, unable to quell your curiosity and bewilderment.

He threw an embellished pillow back down on the couch as soon as he checked under it. "I don't know where I put my fucking wallet."

You laughed at his grumble and patted his chest with a wink. "Wait here."

Bakugou eyed you suspiciously as burrito-you darted off back towards the bedroom but his expression cleared up when you came racing back with the slim wallet in your hand, thankfully leaving behind the blanket as you caught onto what he was doing. He took it silently, frustrated with himself for not checking his coat pocket first to save him of this embarrassment.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he turned away. He felt like he was ten again, that's how damn shy he was when it came to you.

A broad grin spread from ear to ear on your face.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked cheekily and he scowled.

"I didn't fucking say anything!!" He exploded, grabbing your wrist and stomping towards the door. "Hurry up, we're leaving."

"Eh?!" You protested but didn't fight him. "Where are we going?"

You were only wearing shorts and his hoodie over your thickest thermal. Since it was warm outside, you hadn't bothered to pack any extra layer and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine. Yup, definitely couldn't wait to go back outside.

"None of your damn business." Bakugou spat as he dragged you out of the room and locked the door.

You continued to pepper him with questions, increasing your pitch when you saw how his nose twitched every single time you annoyed him.

Adorable.

By the time you got back down to the first floor, you were clinging to his arm, teeth chattering from the air conditioning, and he was facing away from you in a manner that clearly stated he regretted bringing you along.

"You love me~" You teased.

"Shut the fuck up. Like hell anyone would like a dumbass like you." He seethed but still didn't pry you off despite him claiming all those things.

You giggled, skipping on ahead. Once you got outside, you spun around on your heel, jutting out your hip. The warmth of the night air was refreshing and you took in a deep breath, smiling widely.

"Where are we going?!" You asked excitedly, trailing behind him as he started walking away, catching up and almost tripping in the process.

Bakugou caught your arm in a flash as you tipped forward, an angry frown etched on his face but you merely beamed at him and thanked him for catching you.

He turned away with a scoff but grabbed your hand to make sure it didn't happen again. "You're fucking clumsy."

Your smile widened as you detected the tiniest bit of worry underlying his sharp tone and you squeezed his hand, heart skipping a beat when he tucked you underneath his arm.

For safety purposes, you assumed.

You snuggled into his side with a blissful sigh. He was so much warmer than you were, it felt so good.

Bakugou spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye and his chest swelled with pride at the eyes that turned, undoubtedly seeing how unashamed you were to be with him. Holy All Might, you were perfect.

The Solaria Hotel was only a five minute walk away from Lunchrush's Grocery Store, a rather huge chain store that had establishments all over Japan, owned by the hero himself. The same hero whose delicious cooking you guys had lived off of for a blessed three years.

"What are we doing here?" You quipped as your eyes widened the moment you strolled in and took in the vibrant colors of all the produce and many packages that lined the shelves.

"I'm not paying shit for that overpriced room service." Bakugou stated flatly as he tossed you a bundle of carrots he just selected.

Your eyes widened as you quickly caught on. "We're going to be cooking?!"

He snorted, sifting through the produce section to find what he was looking for, weeding out the ones that were no good. "No shit, dumbass."

"Hey!!" You protested but carried on without complaint.

The kitchen in your room was fully equipped with all the amenities. Top of the grade appliances and sterling silverware made you feel like you were going to break something initially but that faded pretty fast as your excitement won over. The only thing it was missing was the food.

You had bought ingredients to make a simple stew on the way to the hotel and stored the leftovers in the large fridge.

The Solaria Hotel did offer pre-organized food boxes that came with various delicious ingredients to make it easy on whoever bought it but they were outrageously priced. Hence why you were now browsing the aisles with a disgruntled Bakugou instead of just purchasing one of those.

But you were definitely not going to complain. One of those boxes could drain your entire month's rent in one go and you were told that the portion sizes weren't very big either.

Definitely not worth it.

You would think that since he was the one to bring you here, he would be more enthusiastic, but no. He was more interested in having a staring contest with the brat at the end of the aisle who was making faces at him as soon as he grabbed the last of the things he needed.

You tugged on his arms, trying and failing to get him to break eye contact with the little boy he was glaring to death.

"Katsuki, c'mon," You begged, losing a battle against that ridiculously fit physique of his. You guys were attracting all kinds of unwanted attention from other shoppers and the mom of the little boy was getting a little curious as to the silent competition going on. "Let's just go."

"No way." He gritted out, never once looking away. "This damn brat needs to learn his f—"

He didn't get to finish the rest of his sentence as you forcibly dragged him away to the cash registers. You shook your head as he scowled and crossed his arms stubbornly. He was such a child sometimes.

Bakugou was so busy pouting that you had dragged him away and made him lose by default that he didn't notice you were already paying for the groceries.

"Oi." He barked at you as you hustled outside with the sky painted dark as night. Only the street lamps and lights hitched up outside the strip mall illuminated the area. "Oi!!"

You flashed him a grin. "Yes, Katsuki?"

He rolled his eyes at the innocent lilt in your voice, acting as if you didn't know exactly what you did. You weren't supposed to pay for anything, he was supposed to be treating you.

"But it's your birthday~" You sang. "And I wanted to!!"

"Tch." He whipped his head around, dodging you as you followed him around playfully.

You were like a dog and he was the bone. He wasn't sure he liked that analogy as much as what it implied.

As soon as you pushed through the grand doors of the lavish hotel, you bumped into someone and sent them crashing to the ground.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry— Wait," You gawked in astonishment at the wasted man before you. "Kirishima?!"

He groaned and rubbed his head. He was sent sprawling after you bumped into him, catching the attention of Mina who was strolling by with a half-conscious Sero on her arm.

"Kirishima, what are you doing?!" Mina exclaimed as she bounded over just as you were helping him up after setting Sero down and making sure that he wasn't going to move. She looked the most awake out of all of them. "Don't run off ahead like that!!"

Bakugou didn't do a thing, choosing to only tap his foot impatiently while he waited for you to be done attending to his shitty best friend.

"L/N!!" He slurred and it was then that you realized he was more than a bit tipsy. "I'm soooooo sorry for not telling you about Bakugou's birthday earlier, it was totally my bad."

You raised an eyebrow at hearing him speak in such an unusual way. Alcohol certainly did things to the brain.

Kirishima clapped his hand on your shoulder, ignoring Sero's whining for him to come back as he peeled Mina away from you three, telling her that he was fine.

Lowering his voice, Kirishima wiggled his eyebrows at you comically and caused you to giggle.

"So... how did Bakugou react when ya told him?" He asked in a whisper that was a lot louder than his drunken mind probably intended.

You flushed as Bakugou's inquisitive gaze fixated on you.

"I'm right here, Shitty Hair." He droned, completely uninterested in the way that this conversation was going.

Kirishima's head snapped up at hearing his voice for the first time and though his dilated pupils had a hard time focusing, he eventually managed to do it and a wide, toothy grin spread from ear to ear.

"Bakubro!!" He drunkenly cheered, throwing his arms out and running towards him.

Bakugou scowled, shoving him away as he went to hug him. "Don't fucking call me that."

Kirishima pouted and whined sadly.

"Awwww but you call me Weird Hair all the time." He complained.

Bakugou grinned. "That's because your hair is a shitty color."

"Hey!!" Kirishima's eyes watered and his lower lip trembled. He burst into tears, clinging to you as you drifted back to Bakugou's side.

Mina's golden irises glinted. "Sooooo, does this mean you guys are together?"

You blushed at the brazen implication and sheepishly nodded, unsure of what else to do.

Bakugou stepped in. He slung his arm around your shoulder, uncaring that he now had a much larger audience now that Midoriya, Iida, Ochako, Tsuyu, Shinsou and Shoji decided to venture outside, others coming out in a steady trickle as the night wrapped up.

You huddled closer to his side, hiding your face in his shoulder, growing nervous at all your friends gathering for reasons you'd rather not voice. You weren't sure how Bakugou would take this, if he would deny you in front of all of them.

He didn't seem like the type but a previous ex had been ashamed of you before so now you were wary. Rightfully so, the guy was a complete prick.

You hadn't dated for very long but it was impactful. The guy hadn't gotten close to your heart but the fact that he wasn't big on physical affection and never wanted to hold your hand in public sent the message that he didn't want to be seen with you.

That had never really sat well with you.

You didn't mind at first. After all, you understood that people had different love languages but he put in absolutely no effort to understand yours. But after a while, it was tiring contributing to a relationship that wasn't reciprocated.

You glanced up at Bakugou as he pulled you in tighter to his side.

"Listen up." He stated roughly, making sure everyone was paying attention. "She's my girl now, so don't you extras try any shit."

Bakugou practically smirked proudly as he stared pointedly at a sheepish-looking Kaminari hiding behind an indifferent Jirou. He was rubbing it in his face for the balls he had to flirt with you earlier.

But that didn't make his declaration any less true or genuine. He was proud to have you by his side, even now more than ever as the two of you explored this new part of your life together.

Hagakure and Ochako squealed at his declaration of love and if it was possible, you reddened even further. But you couldn't kid anyone. You felt like you were flying.

Hiding your face in your hands, your embarrassment came out muffled. "Katsuki..."

He snorted at your shyness, then steered you towards the elevators with you tucked under his arm without so much as a wave of farewell to your friends. He saw your knees knocking together, he knew you were fucking cold, so time to go.

You wiggled, shooting the girls an apologetic smile and laughed loudly as Sero and Kaminari obnoxiously whooped and hollered after you two.

Bakugou flipped them the bird, hiding a proud smile when their drunken cheers only grew louder as Kirishima and Shinsou joined in.

"Oi." He poked you cheek as you didn't lift your face away from your new hiding spot to spare you of any more mortification. "Wake the fuck up, shithead."

A cheeky mumble emerged from where your cheek was ordered up against his shirt. "Is that any way to treat your girlfriend?"

"It is when you're being a dumbass." He retorted flatly.

"Hey!!" You cried out indignantly.

You rode the elevator up, squabbling incessantly the entire way there, drawing odd looks from a few of the other guests that you passed but that paled in comparison to your wide smiles and the satisfied smirk permanently plastered on Bakugou's face.

You were having way too much fun to care about anything else.

Once you made it back to your room successfully, you got to work right away.

Giddy over the fact that he had shown you off and high on the endorphins him claiming you in front of all your friends and fellow colleagues brought you had made you extremely hungry. Keeping up with all of Bakugou's newfound love that he was expressing had zapped your energy far more than you were willing to admit.

"Oi, you're shit at cooking." Bakugou said after a minute of watching you wreck everything in the kitchen.

"Don't yell at me!! I already know I suck at it!!" You whined childishly, throwing up the spatula in frustration.

Bakugou chuckled, plucking the wretched thing from your fingers and took over. You had managed to make soup earlier and not burn down the place in the process so he wasn't sure why stirring the pot was now such a big deal.

But he shook his head as he caught the glint of mischief in your eye. He knew that look. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Fuck, he was screwed. He never should've told you how long he had pined after you. But it was no use, he was too weak for you.

You balked at the soft expression on his face. He had never looked at you like that before.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were blurting out how him declaring that in front of all of your friends had made you so happy and at the downward curve of displeasure on Bakugou's face, you elaborated that you had someone who didn't make you feel very loved in the past.

You weren't sure why you were telling him this. It wasn't like it was exactly easy to say all of this out loud but after years of knowing him, you knew he was the last person who would judge you for feeling the way you were feeling.

So you spilled it all.

You squeaked in surprise as he caught you off guard once you finished, crushing you to his chest. Your hands lifted up and automatically looped around his neck, stumbling a bit as he backed you up against the counter.

"Katsuki?!" You exclaimed in astonishment at the sudden display of affection from the normally so standoffish guy.

"I will never be ashamed of you. You're stuck with me for fucking forever and I'll kill you if you say any other shit." Bakugou muttered into the crook of your neck.

You were moved at his expression of the feelings he had for you and clutched onto the back of his shirt, hugging him tight.

He stayed there, in the same position, pinning you to the counter of the kitchen in the hotel room you had come to share and embraced you until you peeled away.

Bakugou's eyes softened when you looked away from him and sniffled. It could be classified as very unladylike, the way you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, but he didn't give a damn.

You were his.

After all these years of pining after you, thinking that he would never be enough to have you, thinking that he would never amount to someone who deserved you, you were finally his.

His heart was going to explode but if he let that happen, he would have to deal with Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face for the rest of his fucking life and like hell he would put up with those irritating extras.

Even if they did kind of manage to bring you two together.

The table for two at dinner, your messed up reservation that left you without a place to crash and that dress Ponytail Girl had bought for you, it all added up. They had been planning this for years since they knew of the feelings you both held for each other.

All you needed was a push.

Whatever. There was no way he was going to give them credit for this. They would probably use it as blackmail at some point and he was not going to tolerate that.

He quickly finished up the home cooked meal, flipping open the cap to the soy sauce you bought and drizzled it on top, adding a few drops of sesame oil to complete it and shoved a plate in your direction to bring into the bedroom while he quickly did the dishes.

The midnight moon's light spilled into the room as you danced around Bakugou, carrying two plates full of warm food to the bed after you were done goofing around and pretending to drop them. Sheer silk curtains hanging from the canopy of the bed swished in your wake as you breezed by to open the french doors, setting the plates down on his nightstand before gliding across the balcony that you had missed upon your initial exploration of the room.

This place was so big, you wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of secret passageway in the closet that led to the other rooms.

The night air was pleasant and a welcome change of temperature as it soothed your chilly skin.

You smiled to yourself as Bakugou came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. His heat encompassed you as he hugged you from behind and lightly kissed the spot just below your ear.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation and gasped when he pinched your side in retaliation.

"Katsuki~"

His given name still felt foreign on your tongue but you'd be damned if you didn't get used to it with the flustered reaction he never failed to give you.

"Don't fucking start with me, dumbass." He smirked, growling lowly. "I don't have a fucking problem with putting you in your place."

You cocked your head to the side, playing dumb, pretending you didn't know what that insinuation meant. "Oh?"

Bakugou groaned as the mood suddenly vanished. "Piss off."

Bakugou cracked a smile though when your easy laughter rang out. Yeah, it wasn't fair that he was left in a now uncomfortable situation but it was worth it to endure if he could hear that sound again.

Fuck, you were so precious.

The late night room service dished out by yours truly was served on the bed while you giggled underneath the covers, hiding from him and shrieking when he found you.

It was warm and fuzzy, the atmosphere easy and relaxed as you cuddled up to him and ate the food he made for you specifically so that it wouldn't make your stomach hurt.

Initially, he had declared that eating on the bed was going to be fucking dirty and messy if you spilled anything, which he was almost 100% sure you would, but gave into you when you transfixed your wide eyes on him, pleading for this one thing.

The two of you didn't look at each other while you ate, you didn't need to. The stolen glances between bites of food were enough as you shared idly and informal conversation to get to know each other better now that your feelings had been aired and returned by the other.

The quiet confession that rang out from you both was almost tear-jerking as he confessed he never thought he would get a chance to be with someone like you and you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, telling him that he deserved the world and more, and if one day you could give it to him, you would.

The heater had yet to be fixed but that didn't bother him anymore as he used the opportunity to gather you in his arms and hug you tight.

Yeah, you two needed to make up for lost time but for now, he was more than content to just let it be. Tangled with you, under the moon and the stars as he kissed you, he swore that he would never stop fighting for you, to protect you always and cherish you with all that he fucking had.

Because Bakugou Katsuki, the man who didn't need anything or anyone to go up against the toughest villains to date, fell to pieces when it came to you.

Bonus:

"I still can't believe you told me that so late. I could've gotten him a gift!!" You complained to Kirishima on the second day when he was hungover and groaning, throwing pillows at you to get you out of his room.

You managed to dodge every last one.

"I mean, I don't get it." You tapped a finger to your chin coyly as you smoothly sidestepped and twirled around two more he launched in your direction. He was going to run out of ammo at this point. "Why tell me so late? And if you guys already knew, then I'm surprised you didn't get anything for him or throw a party or something."

Sero groaned painfully in the corner, his head felt like it was going to split in two and he was quite certain it would if you didn't stop talking soon. "Y/N, it's so early."

"It's noon." You deadpanned, only for Sero to slap a pillow over his face and promptly fall back asleep.

"Y/N!!" Mina called out as she bustled back into the bedroom with a tray of tea. "Where did that boyfriend of yours run off to?"

You blushed as she said it so bluntly and coughed to hide it. "He's trying to get the heater thing sorted out."

Last night, you had been shivering so much that he had taken to warming you up other ways just to get your teeth to stop chattering. And let's just say it was a little harder to walk today because of it.

This morning when you woke up, he had been yelling into the phone that they needed to bring more blankets up right fucking now or else he would explode off their arms since they couldn't do the most fucking simple of tasks and you swiped the phone from him, rapidly and profusely apologizing for his brash language on behalf of the angry pomeranian simmering beside you.

You threw in that you would be grateful if they could spare more but if others needed it more than you told them you two would be fine and could make do before thanking them for their time and hanging up.

And since Bakugou insisted that the heater needed to be fixed today or else you were going to get sick, he allocated you to Kirishima's room, one of the only ones not having any problems while he demanded some answers from the hotel staff and got someone to fucking fix the shitty thing.

So now, here you were. And you had a score to settle with Kirishima anyways, so you weren't bothered.

Mina had already told you everything. Everyone had been in on it.

You weren't shocked by Kaminari and Shinsou and most of the others' involvement in this little scheme but you were surprised to hear it had been Iida's idea to make both of you sit at the same table with no other company.

You'd have to thank them all later.

An hour and several more pillows thrown later, you and Mina had managed to drag down the two sleepy boys just in time to greet your old teachers alongside the rest of your peers as they stepped through the door.

"Aizawa-sensei!!" You cheered, launching yourself forward so that he'd have to catch you.

He did so without much difficulty, his tired eyes brightening up a little bit as you hugged him tight. Out of all his students, he had the closest bond with you.

"Hey, kid." He greeted tiredly, tugging along his sleeping bag and you lifted an eyebrow when you realized that while Midnight and Mic rolled in their luggage, he only brought his trademark yellow sleeping bag. All Might was parking the car and would be come inside within the next few minutes.

"Where's the rest of your things?" You asked just as Yaoyorozu and Iida greeted Midnight and Mic was tackled in a hug by Jirou.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before yawning. "You really think I'm going to do anything else besides sleep this weekend, kid? Nah."

You frowned at him. "You can't just sleep the whole day away."

"Uh uh," He tutted, wagging a finger in your face for a second before yawning again. "Not day. Days."

You pouted at the correction and he rolled his eyes, resting a hand on top of your head to let you know that he was just kidding and you smiled brightly.

"Here, at least let me help bring it upstairs." You bargained, taking it off his hands.

A smug voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Hey, Y/N, why you walking funny?" Kaminari said with a shit-eating grin and it took every fiber of self-control not to freak out.

"Uh, I'm not?"

But your high pitch due to your embarrassment and mortification at being called out won over and Shinsou sniggered in the background.

"Classy." He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't peg you for the type to do it on the first date."

"Oh hush, show some respect!!" Yaoyorozu chastised but your dignity was long gone.

Your face broke out in relief though when the elevator in the lobby dinged and a disgruntled Bakugou stepped out, his vermilion eyes widening a fraction when you sped over to him.

"Whoa— What the, why the hell are your eyes red?!" He rushed out, gripping your shoulders and pulling your close to make sure he saw that right. His eyes narrowed angrily when you sniffled. "Tell me who the fuck made you cry."

"Oh shit." Kaminari and Shinsou swore under their breath as your enraged, extremely protective boyfriend stormed over to them with a deadly aura rolling off him in tsunami sized waves.

Midnight held up her hand, stopping him dead in his tracks at the authority his former teacher held. "Hold on please, just a second."

Everyone waited with bated breath to see what she would do. Would she defend you? Tell off Kaminari who had embarrassed you? Or would she let the hothead hell bent on vengeance regain your honor?

She didn't do any of those things.

Instead, Midnight smirked and held out her hand with the palm upturned to Aizawa with a sly smile. "Pay up. I called it."

Your mouth dropped, along with everyone else's as Aizawa forked over 10,000 yen. Even Koda, Sato and Tokoyami looked shocked, which was so rare, it scared you.

Todoroki was the only one who looked confused but Midoriya was right there to explain what was happening and why the sum of money so significant as you shrieked, shrill and high, thoroughly put off.

"What?!" Your embarrassment long forgotten, thankfully, by everyone else as this new revelation hit them like a truck. "You bet on us?!"

"Just you." Aizawa yawned nonchalantly, blinking his eyes wearily. "C'mon L/N, I thought you would turn him down."

"What?!" You screeched as Bakugou narrowed his eyes at his former homeroom teacher, taking that as a challenge.

Aizawa rolled his eyes as Bakugou got all up in his face, demanding to know just what he meant as Mic threw his head back and announced for all to hear.

"Y/NNNNNNN'S GOT A BOYYYYFRIENDDDD!!!!!!"

Clapping your hands over your ears as every single glass thing within the vicinity shattered, you grinned as the tremors passed by within a few seconds. One perk of having time as a teacher who used his quirk so often on accident, all of you learned how to mitigate the most damage he dealt to your surroundings and deflect it.

Jirou shook her head at you in amusement as Bakugou, who was the closest to Mic aside from Kaminari who had taken up refuge from behind Midnight, flatly stated that he could no longer hear.

To which, Mic screamed even louder.

"I CALLED IT FROM DAY ONEEEEEE!!!!"

"That's enough, Mic." Aizawa said, rubbing his temples to ease the headache that had just come on and offered up a slightly reassuring smile to Tsuyu who hopped over to check on him.

Mic pouted dramatically. "But Shouta—"

"Stop it, you're embarrassing them." He sighed, reining in the energetic blond. "And you embarrassing them is embarrassing me."

Midnight cooed. "Awww, he's happy for them."

"Shut up, Nemuri."

You giggled as the three of them began to bicker amongst themselves, who called it first, who saw the chemistry you two had, who was the first one to realize that it was more than just a school crush, all of it.

After beating up Kaminari and Shinsou behind their backs, Bakugou made his way over to you, wiping his hands on his pants and he smiled at you cockily.

"Heater's fixed."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He hummed. "Mmhm, so wanna get out of here?"

You laughed lightly, being careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves as you slipped away when Mic let out a particularly piercing shriek that he should've gotten the money because he paired the two of you for a project when you were in his English class.

Classic Mic.

"What about breakfast?" You asked as you two took the emergency stairs, at least, just for the first couple of floors until you were clear. You weren't sure your legs would survive the 80 flights just to reach your room.

Bakugou smirked and his mouth ghosted the shell of your ear. "Don't need that shit, I got something better."

Something told you that you weren't going to be leaving the bed for the rest of this trip.

Oh well.

You supposed this was one way to exercise.

153 notes · View notes

mirohlixie · 3 years

Text

"On your knees and suck." (Prof. Lee Know)

Teacher! Lee Know x Student! Reader (gender-neutral) Genre: Smut, College AU Words: 1,5k Summary: Before they knew they'd be professor and student in the same class one day, Y/N and Lee Minho had a one-night-stand. No Y/N is failing his class and needs to find a way to fix their grade. Luckily, they have an idea in mind...

Content Warnings: Degradation, Humiliation, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Face Fucking, Unprotected Sex, Spanking, Dom! Lee Know x Sub! Reader

----------------------------------- o --------------------------------------"L/N, one moment please," Mister Lee said as he stopped Y/N from leaving the room. "We need to talk about your grades." Y/N stopped dead in their tracks, turning around with an indifferent look in their eyes, sucking on the sucker they'd just opened seconds before. God, what could it be about this time? The skirt that was too short? The knee socks that were too high? It wasn't their fault men couldn't keep their eyes off them. "Yes, Minho?" They taunted, looking at their professor with a challenging look in their eyes. They knew they weren't supposed to use their professor's first name, but after that one night stand they'd had before Y/N found out they were their teacher a couple of days later, they couldn't help it.

After they found out Minho had clearly told Y/N that it would be that time only and that nobody could ever know they’d had sex. If it came out, he’d probably be fired, if not arrested. Y/N found it a shame, considering they’d had a lot of fun that night.

“It’s Mister Lee to you and you know that,” he snapped, seemingly uninterested. Y/N rolled their eyes and sighed.

“Fine, Mister Lee. What did you need me for?” They sat on the desk, waiting for what their professor had to say. Minho also rolled his eyes and pulled some paper out of his bag.

“You’re failing this course,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes trained on the paper. “So far you’ve had bad grades for all your assignments and I also never hear you in class. Therefore, your participation grade is also insufficient as we speak,” Y/N hated the way he spoke about them. So business man-like. As if the two of them hadn’t shared the bed only weeks ago. He hadn’t cared about them at all, which strangely kinda hurt. However, Y/N decided to push that thought away for now.

“So?” They asked instead.

“So? You’re not going to be able to graduate at this rate,” Minho said, clearly frustrated.

“Why do you care?” Y/N asked. “Not like you showed any kind of worry the past few weeks.”

“You know-” Minho stopped himself, lowering his volume. “You know I cannot give you any special treatment because we slept together once, Y/N. Don’t play dumb now. We’ve been over this,” he sat on his desk too, looking at them expectingly.

“Well…” you paused. “How am I going to fix it, then? You gonna tutor me?” Y/N played with the sucker in their mouth, swirling their tongue around it absent-mindedly.

“It’s too late for that. The final exam is in a week,” they looked at their professor, sighing. How the hell were they going to get that grade up then? Tutoring was the only thing that crossed their mind in this instance. “Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea to put you and me in the same room after school, all alone,” Minho muttered, straightening the collar of his dress shirt.

“Why not, Mister Lee?” Y/N asked, making their voice sound seductive. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” They leaned into him slightly, whispering the last part in his ear.

“Don’t say shit like that around here,” he grunted. “If we get caught it’s over.”

“Oh but professor,” a devilish smile played around their lips. “How will I ever get my grade up? Maybe I could do something for you… A little… something,” Y/N licked their lips and looked their professor in the eyes.

“A little something?” He questioned, visibly shifting in his place. “Like what?” Y/N strutted to the door and closed it, turning the key in the lock before closing the shutters. Minho bit his lip, looking at the student in a mixture of surprise and arousal.

“Oh well I don’t know, I mean…” Y/N started palming their professor through his dress pants. “I know some options that are definitely not authentic, but you tell me, Mister Lee,” they bit their lip, watching Minho’s reaction in anticipation. They needed to get their grade up and this wouldn’t be too bad. Even better, they were very willing to do a little something for the hot professor.

“Fuck,” Minho cursed. “Fine, have it your way,” he grabbed the student’s neck and pulled them closer to him before smashing his lips on theirs. Y/N was a little taken back by that, but feverishly kissed him back after a short moment of realization. Minho’s lip swiped over their bottom lip and they opened their mouth as the professor’s tongue forced its way into their mouth, fighting for dominance.

Y/N moaned quietly, feeling their knees go weak at their professor’s dominant demeanor. They hadn’t seen it since that one-night-stand weeks ago. Y/N fumbled with their teacher’s buttons, but he withdrew. His eyes had turned ten shades darker as he watched them.

“On your knees and suck,” his voice boomed. When Y/N didn’t immediately give in, due to the shock, he pushed them down to their knees. “Do I need to repeat myself? Princess knows daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself,” Y/N quickly shook their head and unbuckled his belt, pulling the man’s pants down as fast as they possibly could.

His large member was already erect and slapped against his stomach, making Y/N gasp. They remembered him being big, but not this big. They hesitantly took the cock in their hand and started pumping it quickly, regaining confidence as they did so.

“Don’t be shy darling,” Minho grinned. “Nothing you’ve never done before is it?” His attitude had gone through a total switch and Y/N was not complaining at all. They nodded quickly and licked the tip teasingly before sucking on it slowly. They loved looking up and watching the professor’s reaction to their mouth. His eyes squinted for a moment and his face relaxed when the tension in his member was finally being relieved. By the looks of it, he had wanted it as bad as they had.

Y/N wrapped their mouth around the cock and started bobbing their head slowly, making sure to swirl their tongue around it in their movements. The quiet moans they elicited with this simple gesture were already enough of a reward to keep going. Minho tangled his fingers into the baby’s hair and softly tugged on the roots while Y/N sped up, hollowing their cheeks to make sure they were applying a lot of pressure.

“Fuck-” the professor exclaimed, biting his lip to stay quiet. Y/N giggled a little around him before speeding up even more, swirling their tongue around him faster as they lightly grazed their teeth over the shaft. “Like that kitten,” Minho’s grip on Y/N’s head became more firm before he slightly started to buck his hips into their mouth. The poor brat gagged as the tip hit the back of their throat harshly, the suddenness of it making them moan. Minho saw this as a sign to keep going and started thrusting, fucking his subby student’s mouth roughly.

All they could do was hollow their cheeks and swirl their tongue around occasionally, completely overwhelmed by the large object that was shoved into their mouth over and over again. Not much later, Y/N felt that familiar twitch; he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Shit-” Minho groaned between gritted teeth. “I’m close, doll. Are you gonna be a good one and swallow it all?” They couldn’t answer, but nodded their head to their best ability and hummed around Minho, indicating that they could.

A couple of rough thrusts later, hot spurts of cum shot down their throat and Y/N choked as they tried to swallow every single bit of it. When Minho pulled out, they gasped for air shortly and licked their lips.

“You taste amazing, sir,” they smirked a little, satisfied that they’d managed to convince their professor to do this. After all, this was a treat to both of them. “So… that will be a B?” Minho chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

“Fine, I’ll turn that F for your most recent assignment into a B,” he stated, pulling up his pants and looking at the flushed baby in front of him. “But only that one,” Y/N frowned a little, knowing that wouldn’t be enough to pass the exam and the overall course in the end.

“And maybe I’ll have to consider tutoring you the coming week, to prepare you for the exam, after all,” a small smirk formed around his lips. “How about my house at seven each night, starting today?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. Did that mean he was finally admitting that he wanted to see them again? They nodded briefly before getting up and fixing their outfit.

“I’ll be at your place at seven tonight,” they confirmed before grabbing their bag and unlocking the door, leaving the classroom without looking over their shoulder. This was going to be interesting.

----------------------------------- o --------------------------------------

144 notes · View notes

moonbeamsung · 3 years

Text

Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kisshim @radiorenjun

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @starryktown @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

A Whole New World//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, symptoms of depression, mentions of depression, minor character death (only mentioned), language, honestly it’s really cute once you get into it trust me

Summary: “Do you trust me?” After constantly pestering Y/N and finally making her explode with anger, Fred decides to try to make her smile again, in the most extravagant way possible.

Word Count: 4.4k

Song: A Whole New World from Aladdin

A/N: Apparently I’m a sucker for the astronomy tower I didn’t even realize until I wrote this that it takes place in the same place as my last fic, but oh well. Also I would literally sell my soul to be able to reenact this with someone, preferably Fred. Also also I’m making a taglist so message me if you wanna be on it!

The astronomy tower was one of your favorite places to visit when you were upset. Something about the way the infinite number of stars continued to shine down made you feel more at peace. It made you believe that maybe there was a plan for everything, and it would all work out eventually.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend most of your recent nights watching the sky glimmer with specks of light. The past few months had been hard on you, and you felt an increasing need to escape as much as you could. Your friends noticed, but they didn’t know how to help. You were usually so upbeat and happy, always helping others rather than being vulnerable enough to admit that you needed some help yourself. Which is why you would spend hours each night, alone with your thoughts and dejection.

Tears rolled down your eyes as the events of the day came back to you.

It took everything you had just to get out of bed. Your dorm mate had tried to wake you up several times, but she eventually gave up and allowed you to rest a little longer. You rolled onto your side and stared at a picture that was hanging on the wall. It was a family picture from years ago, when you were just a little gap toothed girl. Your mom was holding you in her arms and your dad had his arm wrapped around your mom’s shoulder. There was only one other person in the picture, but it hurt your heart too much to look at the old man smiling down at little you.

After letting a few tears lose, you decided to start your day a couple hours late. You had a Potions exam that you needed to do well on, or else your dreams of becoming a Healer would be a lot harder to achieve.

You rolled out of bed and put on your uniform followed by fixing your hair and putting on some light makeup. You used to put a decent amount of effort into how you looked, wanting to practice your eyeliner skills and try out new hairstyles. But recently it just seemed like too much work for no reward. The bags under your eyes remained visible as you walked to your Potions class.

The day didn’t get better.

You skipped lunch and decided to take a nap instead. You curled up in your bed and shut your eyes tight, trying to calm the anxiety that was racing through your body. Your mind began to wander and you started wondering what your friends were doing at the moment, and if you were missing out on something fun. You wanted to join them and be a part of whatever was happening, but you just didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. It wasn’t until you were forced to get up for your next class that you left the silence of your room.

Transfiguration was a class you had with most of your friends, which made it difficult for you to avoid questioning.

“Y/N, where were you during lunch today?” your friend asked. She seemed concerned, but didn’t know what to say to the sulking mess who was usually so lively and energetic.

You shrugged and gave a forced smile. “Just tired, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

She nodded, not believing you but figuring that you weren’t going to tell her the truth any time soon.

You turned your attention to McGonagall’s lecture, but you were distracted almost immediately with a balled up piece of paper that landed on your lap. You looked around the room before making eye contact with Fred Weasley, who gestured for you to open the note.

You did and scoffed at the message scrawled in messy handwriting.

‘Hey love, you’re looking a little glum today. How about spending the night in my dorm and we’ll see if I can make you feel better? ;)’

Normally you would’ve playfully flirted back with the ginger troublemaker, but you weren’t in the mood today. You hadn’t been in the mood in months.

Shaking your head you crumpled up the paper and let it fall to the ground. It wasn’t long before another one landed on your desk.

You rolled your eyes and you opened this one.

‘C’mon, don’t be so grumpy. You know you want me.’

This letter you ripped up, letting the scraps dramatically spill all around you. If there was one thing Fred wasn’t good at, it was reading the room. You just wanted to focus on the lesson and spend the rest of your night alone in your dorm.

A third letter hit you in the back of your head. You almost turned around and screamed at Fred, but instead you picked up the note and sat in on your desk. You didn’t want to give Fred the satisfaction of opening the letter, but your curiosity got the best of you. And of course with your luck it all blew up in your face. Literally.

A small explosion came from the letter the second you opened to read it, painting your face a scorched black and singeing the ends of your hair. You didn’t even have time to react before you were being yelled at by your favorite teacher.

“Miss Y/L/N!” McGonagall was glaring at you down the bridge of her nose, giving you a look that she only reserved for the worst troublemakers. It made you feel like shit. “Detention, tomorrow night for disrupting my lesson. Please keep your antics to yourself next time.”

“But professor--” She interrupted you by putting her hand up.

“Don’t argue, Miss Y/L/N. Tomorrow night.”

Your face fell and you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back sobs that were rising in your throat. As class ended you gathered your things and practically sprinted out of the room, ignoring the cries from your friend.

You didn’t get too far before you were spun around by large hands that gripped your shoulders. Fred was towering over you, a proud grin spreading across his face as if he had just won the lottery.

“You should’ve seen your face, darling, absolutely priceless.”

He reluctantly let go of you as you struggled in his hold, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I don’t want to talk to you right now Fred, I just want to go to my room.”

“You’re in your room all the time!” he exclaimed. He wasn’t wrong. “Just lighten up a little and take a joke.”

You sighed and began to walk back to your dorm, ignoring his complaints.

“C’mon, Y/N, who died and made you all depressed?”

That was it.

You spun around and came storming back toward Fred, who now looked as though he regretted ever saying anything. “Do you really want to know Fred? Do you really feel the need to relentlessly bother me when it’s painfully obvious that I don’t want to talk to you?”

You had backed him into a wall and he was holding his hands up in defense.

“Today has been awful. I could barely get out of bed this morning, and the only reason I did was because I had a Potions test, which I likely failed! I have no motivation to do anything, which means I go to my room and miss out on everything fun, which only makes me more upset.”

Tears were streaming down your face as you screamed at Fred, all of your pent up anger finally coming out.

“And not that it’s any of your business, Frederick--” you poked his chest as you said his full name, something you only did when you were mad at him, “--but my grandpa died and made me all depressed. Three weeks ago. And I’ve felt like absolute shit ever since. So please, for the love of Godric just leave me alone for two fucking minutes!”

Fred’s face was adorned with a shocked expression, which softened immediately. You hadn’t told anyone about your grandpa, not wanting to deal with pitiful glances being thrown your way. Fred had no idea that you were going through so much, and seeing you finally break because of him broke his heart.

But you didn’t give him any time to respond before you turned on your heel and marched back to your room, feeling worse than you had ever felt in your life.

You knew it wasn’t Fred’s fault. You had chosen not to tell anyone about what you were going through, and you assumed he was only trying to lighten your spirits. However with everything that had been going on you needed some time to think and deal with your emotions on your own. It was the only way you knew how.

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone behind you clearing their throat. You turned your head to see the outline of a tall ginger boy, standing at the top of the astronomy tower stairs.

“What do you want Fred?” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you quickly turned to stare at the sky again, hoping your friend wouldn’t be able to see how upset you were.

When you didn’t hear a response you spared another glance behind you, but Fred was gone. You stood up and looked around. Surely he wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere and then disappear seconds later. You leaned against the railing of the tower, the only thing separating you from the endless night sky.

A scream erupted from your throat as something rose up to face you, hovering in the air. Fred was standing eye level with you, but he was...floating?

“How are you…”

You looked over the edge and gasped at the sight before you. Fred was standing on a large carpet that he must’ve snagged from the Gryffindor common room. From the looks of it, it had been enchanted to fly and it was doing a fine job of fulfilling its duties.

Fred laughed at your surprised expression as he reached a hand out. You stepped back, still wanting to be alone for the time being. But maybe you had been alone for long enough.

“What is this Fred? What’s going on?”

He didn’t respond, but rather moved closer and stretched his hand out a little farther. “Do you trust me?”

The whole scene reminded you of your favorite movie, which had just come out last year. You remembered watching Aladdin with your grandpa, memorizing every song and occasionally singing or humming the lyrics once you returned to Hogwarts. There was no way Fred’s actions were coincidental, he had to have planned this.

No matter how upset you were, you weren’t going to give up the chance to reenact one of your favorite movie scenes, so with hesitation you grabbed his hand and wobbled onto the magic carpet that was hovering hundreds of feet in the air.

“You ready, love?” Fred’s voice was calm and soothing, so unlike his normal persona. You gave him a tiny smile and nodded, holding onto the tassels of the rug for dear life.

Fred nodded back and scooted closer to you. “Hold on tight princess.” You grabbed his right arm and squeezed, letting him know you were ready to go.

With a flick of his wand the carpet took off and you were suddenly flying through the cool night air at racing speeds. You’d ridden on a broom before but this was something completely different. This time didn’t have to worry about working your core to stay on or try to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. With this, you could just breathe and take in the moment.

Fred looked over at you and grinned as he saw your amazed face. You closed your eyes and put your hands out, letting yourself be overcome with the feeling of soaring through the air. Without warning the carpet jerked to one side, causing you to scream and grip back onto Fred’s arm.

“What was that for?” you exclaimed. He laughed and tried to pry your arms off of him, choosing to wrap his arm around your shoulder instead.

“Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Now are you ready?”

You looked at him quizzically, wondering what else he could have in store for you. Fred cleared his throat and you saw a small blush appear on his face. He took in a deep breath and did something you never expected Fred Weasley to do.

He started singing.

“I can show you the world, shining shimmering--why are you laughing at me?!” You were bent over into his chest, heaving with laughter at his display. It’s not that he was a bad singer, on the contrary in fact. But you had definitely not expected him to start singing A Whole New World while you were flying across the Hogwarts grounds on a literal magic carpet.

“I’m--I’m s-sorry Freddie,” you choked out through laughs, “it’s v-very nice. Fantastic job!”

He could hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice and he put on a faux glare. “Y/N, I did not listen to you sing this bloody song every single day and memorize all of the words simply from paying attention to your voice for you to not be my Jasmine and sing back.” He crossed his arms and huffed and your giggles slowly died down.

You felt a blush appear on your face as you realized how much effort he had put into this. Memorizing the entire song from only your humming and occasional lyrics? The least you could do was humor the boy.

“Fine,” you said playfully, rolling your eyes, “go ahead again. I promise I won’t laugh.”

He gave you an unbelieving look.

“I promise I won’t laugh a lot.”

Fred nodded and cleared his throat once again. “I can show you the world, shining shimmering splendid!”

He cupped your chin in his hand and gave you a wink. “Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart decide.”

The carpet dipped and you screamed as the two of you soared downwards before leveling out again.

“I can open your eyes,” he began once again. “Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under--” as he sang each word the carpet twisted to perform the respective move, “on a magic carpet ride. A whole new world!”

He sat on his knees and spread his arms to the sky, screaming the lyrics and letting the wind whip his ginger hair around his face. Although you were speeding through the clouds and any wrong move would likely end in you falling to your death, all you could focus on was him.

“A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we’re only dreaming…” Fred was looking back at you, holding his hands in yours. He leaned in to you and you sucked in a breath, leaning toward him as well. But what you had been assuming would happen did not, and Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“That’s your cue, love.” It took you a second to realize what he was saying but when you did you nodded fervently, hoping Fred didn’t notice you mistaking his actions for an attempt at a kiss. Before you could overthink everything and make it even more awkward you sat up and belted out your lines.

“A whole new world! A dazzling place I never knew.” You moved toward the front of the carpet and Fred grabbed your waist holding you up as you spread your arms and stared at the endless sky. “But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear, that now I’m in a whole new world…”

You hesitated before saying the next two words, suddenly very aware of the tight grip Fred’s rough hands had on your waist. “With you…”

You turned your head to see Fred beaming at you, and he moved you back so the two of you were once again sitting side by side. You sang the next verse as the two of you flew over the Forbidden Forest. The terrifying collection of dark trees and plants now seemed so small, so miniscule when you were soaring over it instead of walking through it.

It was almost time for the duet portion of the song, but before you could start you were cut off by Fred’s finger on your lips. “Alright, love, now we switch. I want to be Jasmine!”

You giggled at the child that was Fred Weasley, but it was his kiddish behavior that always drew you to him. “Well you have the body for it,” you teased, poking his stomach. He poked you back and it made you flinch, seeing as how he hit a ticklish spot. His eyes widened when he realized the opportunity he had, and his fingers attacked your sides while both of you tried to sing your new parts.

“A whole new world--”

“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” He covered his eyes as you sang this for effect and you had to use all of your strength to remove his hands from his face, which ended with you intertwining your fingers in his.

“A hundred thousand things to see--”

“Hold your breath it gets better.”

Fred finally halted his tickling as he belted his next line straight into your ear. “I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far, I can’t go back to where I used to be…”

You threw your legs over his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as the two of you giggled like schoolchildren. Something about laughing with Fred always made you feel carefree and young. Like you didn’t constantly have the entire world dragging you down. It was intoxicating.

You ruffled his hair and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. “A whole new world!”

Fred saw this as a competition, and he decided he just had to one up you in noise. “Every turn a surprise!”

“With new horizons to pursue!”

“Every moment red letter!”

At this point both of you were shouting as loud as you possibly could, so loud that you knew at least someone on the Hogwarts grounds would be able to hear you, but neither of you cared. He took his other hand in yours as you screeched the next words simultaneously.

“I’ll chase them everywhere, there’s time to spare, let me share this whole new world with you!” Fred steered the carpet downwards to a grove that you had never noticed before. He swept through the trees and swiftly grabbed an apple from a tree above before tossing it to you. It was something straight out of the movie and you had to wonder how in the world he had this so well prepared.

He pulled you in tighter by the waist and started to sing again, transitioning back to Aladdin’s part. His voice was much softer than it had been before, almost sweet and loving. “A whole new world…”

You lowered your voice to match his. “A whole new world…”

“That’s where we’ll be…”

“That’s where we’ll be…” You could tell that Fred was maneuvering the two of you back toward the grand Hogwarts castle but you didn’t want this moment to end so soon.

His thumb brushed your cheek. “A thrilling chase…”

Your hand moved to his chest, feeling his toned muscles underneath his infamous Weasley jumper. “A wondrous place…”

“For you and me…”

You stared into each other’s eyes, holding each other tightly and letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you finally finished the song. Neither of you said a word as Fred guided the carpet back to the astronomy tower and helped you down onto the floor. You slipped and fell into his chest, but he was quick to steady you and hold you tight in his arms.

Your eyes wandered up the tall redhead’s body, illuminated by the dim glow of the night stars. “What...what in the world was that?” you asked incredulously.

Fred only laughed and pulled you to sit down next to him, legs dangling off the side of the tower. “I guess that was my way of apologizing.”

“Not even an actual ‘I’m sorry’ is good enough for you Weasley?” you teased, making Fred give you a guilty look.

“I am really sorry, Y/N. I...I had no idea what was happening, and I was just getting tired of not seeing you ever. I guess I thought you were avoiding me and I wanted to get your attention, even if that meant being a complete arse.” His guilty look only grew as he confessed the reasoning behind his actions. “I’m really sorry, love. But I want you to know that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to go through things alone.”

You sighed heavily and leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm found its familiar place around your shoulder and you shuffled so that you were closer to him.

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I don’t want people to pity me, or to think that I should try to get over it. I don’t want everyone to say that I should stop feeling like this when there are so many people that have it so much worse.” Your voice shook with every word that poured out of your mouth. You had never told anyone that before, always keeping your burdens to yourself and burying them deep inside.

Fred grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and brought you into a hug, letting you sob quietly into his chest. “Darling, you should never feel as though your feelings aren’t valid. You have every right to be upset, and I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me.”

You hummed into his jumper, taking in the scent of cinnamon and gunpowder. It had grown to become one of your favorite smells. “You know, that movie was one of my grandpa’s favorites.”

Fred nodded but stayed quiet, trying to hide his joy that you were finally opening up to someone.

“We watched it nonstop last summer. He told me he loved princess Jasmine. Said she had spunk, just like--” your voice hitched in your throat, “--just like me.”

Your best friend began stroking your hair softly, occasionally twirling a strand in his long fingers. “I didn’t know,” he finally said. “I just knew you loved the movie, and I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.”

You gave a small laugh at his words and he tilted your chin up so that you could see the concern in his eyes. “Hey, I’m serious. I love you, Y/N. You’re...you’re a great friend.”

The warm feeling inside your chest that had begun when Fred started talking had suddenly died down. You were friends. Just a great friend of his.

“I don’t know Freddie,” you teased, “the way you were singing to me out there made it seem like I was a little more than a friend to you.”

You were only joking, but Fred was immediately silent, turning to stare down at his hands. “I, uh, I may have gotten a little bit caught up in the moment,” he stuttered. His nervousness caught you off guard, as it was so unlike the confident prankster to be so tense.

“So you really memorized that song, recreated specific scenes from the movie, and took time to enchant a magic carpet to fly me across the skyline, just to make me feel better?”

He chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed about all of the effort he put in. “When have I been known to be simple with these kinds of things, love?”

“Never,” you scoffed. Feeling a bit of a courage course through your veins you reached to grab his hand, intertwining it with yours. Fred squeezed your hand back and you moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the sweetest person I know, Freddie. You may be a little dumb and over the top sometimes, but you’re sweet.”

Fred smiled down at you and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it last minute. You decided to give this one more chance.

“Fred? Can I...can I kiss you?”

The words were barely out of your mouth when his lips gently touched yours, drawing you into the softest kiss you could imagine. Your lips moved in sync, slowly at first but quickly picking up a little speed. After what felt like an eternity you had to come up to catch your breath, tugging on his bottom lip as you moved away.

The two of you just stared at each other before you let out a small giggle. “Oi!” Fred exclaimed. “You think snogging me is funny? Wow, I think I’ll have to take those privileges away from you, you selfish girl.”

“Oh no, don’t deprive me of that Weasley, I couldn’t live without you.” He shoved your arm playfully and you spoke again. “I just think it’s funny that it took me cursing you out after class and an extravagant musical number for you to finally kiss me. And even then I had to initiate it! For a Gryffindor you really are a chicken sometimes.”

He responded by pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a shorter but just as passionate kiss. “I was getting around to it, I just didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state,” he said as his excuse.

“Well I can tell you now, love,” you said, “this has nothing to do with my ‘vulnerable state.’ I’ve been in love with you forever, I was just too scared to say anything.”

“Ah, so you’re the real chicken then.”

You relented, not wanting this perfect moment to turn into another argument between you and the twin. “Yeah, I’m the chicken, and you can be the prince that swoops in and steals the chicken away on a magic carpet.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only if the chicken turns into my beautiful princess by the end. Y/N, will you be my princess?”

You bit your lip trying to hold back a scream of pure happiness. Something you hadn’t felt in months. “Of course Freddie, I’m yours.”

#fredweasley #aladdin #disney #fred #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred x reader #fredweasleyfluff #hogwarts #magic carpet

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spiderling-space · 4 years

Note

new writing blog, yay! could I request HQs for Jade, Jack, Leona and Jamil with a fem!reader that hasn't been sleeping well lately and she's constantly dizzy and drifting off?

I was gonna say “yey J squad” then I realized Leona starts with L.

I don’t know why I can find more things to write for some characters.

This was challenging for me to write. I love challenges though.

I hope you enjoy it!

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

Jamil Viper

As a compensation of what he did when he overblotted, Jamil agreed to tutor (Y/N). While spending some time together, he befriended (Y/N)

Until a few days ago, (Y/N) was attentive and always on time but now she is late and and drifts off as he speaks.

Jamil’s first thought is that she began to find him boring or taking a type of revenge. So he probes her with questions.

He was close to using snake whisper on her but he thinks it might leave an awful taste so he uses his wit to find truth.

After asking her too many questions for her taste, (Y/N) tells him the truth.

“Alright alright just stop! I admit I’ve been Magiflix and Chilling for the last 4 days! I’ve just discovered a tc show with 6 seasons! I needed watch them all!”

Jamil didn’t think the reason would be this silly. And he doesn’t intend to fail as a tutor.

He considers what he can do and comes up with something: he will take (Y/N)’s laptop and phone at night so she won’t watch the show until morning from any device.

When the night comes and Jamil comes to collect the laptop and phone.

(Y/N) extends her devices. Jamil grabs them but (Y/N) doesn’t let go.

“Just 1 more episode?” — “No.” — “Can i at least say goodbye?”

Jamil finds it odd yet he nods.

“My precious!” (Y/N) says and starts running.

Jamil is surprised, trying to understand what has occurred. When it happens, he runs after (Y/N). Ah things he does for friendship!

🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄

Jade Leech

Jade is one of the boys who would notice the smallest change in people.

He’s the always observing one.

For the last two days, he notices the dark circles under (Y/N)’s eyes. He also notices that she is trying to cover them with make up.

Jade The Shroom Guy recalls that there are a couple mushrooms that can help her to sleep.

“Oya oya, (Y/N), you seem like you’re in need of help.”

Jade puts his hand to his chin and smiles “Would you mind telling me what troubles your sleeping? I’m sure we can solve it in Mostro Lounge.”

“Nothing!” That was a fast answer.

Jade continues to smile while looking at her.

The intensity of his gaze makes (Y/N) confess. “All right fine! I’ll tell ya!” She knows she is defeated. “Look, buddy... uhm... human females have this monthly cycle which sometimes causes an immense pain that even painkillers won’t help. That’s what making me unable to fall asleep...” She whispers the latter part.

“I could give you ‘shroom in Mostro Lounge to help you sleep.” — “No offense Jade but I don’t think getting high will help me.” — “???” — “???” — “???” — “Oh you meant mushroom-mushroom, not the other one...” (Y/N) trails, wanting to be buried 6 feet underground at that moment.

Jade lets out a laugh before composing himself again. Perhaps he could help her for free just once; a reward for highlighting his day.

Meanwhile (Y/N) understands the value of having enough sleep. She wouldn’t embarrass herself like she did if her mind was in right place and was able to think straight; at least that’s what he hopes.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Jack Howl

Jack could smell the caffeine on (Y/N) miles away. She was laying on a grass with a book in front of her.

He thinks that amount of coffee is unhealthy for humans and voices his concerns to her.

“Are you kidding me? I have 3 essays to finish and a potion to brew and 2 exams! I don’t have time for sleeping. I was supposed studying last night but accidentally fell asleep and lost 3 hours! I don’t have time to sleep!” (Y/N) talks rapidly that Jack almost doesn’t comprehend what she has said.

Jack understands her worries but now he is worried about her health. He sleeps at 9 pm because he gets up early and needs to have certain amount of sleep.

He is concerned that she will get sick.

Before he can say anything, he sees that (Y/N) drifted off.

He can’t wake her up but leaving her there, sleeping on ground might cause some people to make fun of her so he also lays on the ground and closes his eyes but not sleeping. If someone approaches them and asks what they are doing, Jack will tell them that (Y/N) and he are trying a new type of breathing exercise.

He isn’t good at lying but at least he tries.

He will have a real chat with her once she wakes up but for now he think she needs as much rest as possible.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

It’s noon so that means nap time for Leona!

He goes to Botanical Garden to nap as usual.

What’s not usual is that seeing (Y/N) occupying his place.

Well he is going to nap there so (Y/N) needs to move

He walks her side, disturbing her sleep.

“Oi herbivore wake up.”

(Y/N) stirs, muttering something inaudible.

Leona tries his luck again.

“WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT?”

(Y/N)’s sudden yell catches Leona off guard. He has never seen this side of hers.

He plays it cool though, at least tries to

“You’re in my place.” — “Then find a new one. Now shoo!”

Herbivore was never hostile toward Leona before.

He doesn’t like the way she talked but he can’t be rude to her. After all a woman is a woman. He thinks maybe fixing her issue would make him earn his place.

“What is your problem?” — “You annoying me!” — “If you don’t cooperate, I will continue to annoy you.”

“What do you expect me to say? That I can’t sleep lately because I dream of my family and it hurts that I can’t see them? That my parents think I’m probably dead? That I will not be able to get back to my world ever again? That because I can’t sleep at nights, I drift of during classes and getting scolded for it? Well I will not say any of those!”

Now Leona gets the issue. Lack of sleep is getting to her nerves. Therefore making her think of her problems more which leads to less sleeping, cycle of doom.

While he cannot help her to go back home, he can offer some comfort. He would be damned if he doesn’t help a woman in trouble when he can.

Lucky for her, he is master at sleeping. The least he can do is to aid her in getting some rest.

“Oi herbivore scoot over.” Before she can protest, Leona sat next to her on ground. “If you won’t move then we’ll nap together. Ruggie will come to wake me up when lunch ends.

Leona wraps his arms around her body and pulls her down, hugging her as if she is a pillow.

(Y/N) wants to protest but she is too tired fo it so she just rolls with it.

When Ruggie comes to wake them up, he first takes photo of them together to use it as blackmail.

After waking up from sweet nap, (Y/N) is able to gather her thoughts better.

“Please ignore everything I said before.” — “Done.”

She is thankful that Leona didn’t press on the issue.

Leona decides to have a chat with Headmaster to fasten the process of a way to her home. He may act like he doesn’t care and tell himself that he is only doing it to have his napping zone just for himself but deep down he knows it’s not true. (Y/N) warmed her way up to his heart.

(Y/N) is thankful for Leona. For some reason it was the best nap she ever had and felt the most energized she ever did in the last few days. Maybe the secret is to nap with a sleeping master.

#jamil viper #jade leech #jack howl #leona kingscholar #scarabia #octavinelle #savanaclaw #prefect #vice prefect #female reader #headcanons

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sortasirius · 3 years

Text

Celebrations

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Words: 1644

Warnings: mentions of abuse, my usual hatred of John Winchester

AN: I miss him a whole lot. Happy birthday, Dean <3

Read it on AO3 here!

When Dean turned four, his mother baked him a birthday pie instead of a cake. It was apple, his favorite, and made the house smell like heaven the whole day. Better than heaven, as Dean would learn when he was much older. They threw a party for him, surrounded by his friends from pre-school and their parents, they were allowed to run around the house because it was too cold and snowy to play outside for long. Dean still remembers the way that he slid across the wood floor to get to the umbrella base in tag, laughing as his friends chased him.

They had opened presents and Dean had gotten new Hot Wheels and two new Lego sets. He remembered that he got the first piece of pie with a candle in it, that they had all sung him happy birthday, and that they had ended the day with a snowball fight and hot chocolate in front of the fire that night, where Dean was curled between his mother and father, sleepily holding the little black muscle car he had been given in his hand as his mother stroked his hair.

That was the last birthday party he ever had on earth.

When Dean turned ten, his father had taken him shooting. They had stood in front of some stationary cans, a makeshift gun range in the middle of the woods of Colorado, and John had kept him at it until he could hit every target with his eyes closed. He had known how to hold a gun from the time he was six years old, but he swelled with pride when he hit one of the cans, looking up at John for approval, getting a half-smile and a hand ruffling his hair every so often.

When Dean turned sixteen, he spent the day in school staring out the window and wondering what his father was hunting this time. He wanted to be there, he wanted to be out there saving people, hunting things, protecting his father’s back, showing him that he was ready for the life. He wasn’t cut out for school his report card that he intentionally made worse than it could be showed that, he wanted to show his father that he was really made to be a hunter. Too bad he couldn’t even fake being bad at math and science, he always got As in those classes, no matter how hard he tried to fail them. His birthday gift that year was a 100 on a math exam. Damn.

When Dean turned eighteen, he had already dropped out of school to hunt with his father. Sam would stay behind, only hunting during summer break, focusing on school, which Dean had never been able to do. He and his father took out a pair of ghouls, and John had given Dean a swig of his whiskey as a reward. It was, in Dean’s mind, an invitation to becoming a man.

When Dean turned twenty-one, he got shitfaced at some seedy bar while Sam studied for the SATs and John was on a hunt turned binge drinking session. They hadn’t seen him in two weeks, but that was becoming more and more routine, as every time he was home, he and Sam would fight. Dean would always get in between, always protect Sam, and if that earned him a black eye or two, so be it, he would do anything when it came to Sam. They had thrown him out of the bar when last call came around, and Dean had sung happy birthday to himself as he stumbled back to their hotel, ignoring Sam’s bitchface as he focused on his flashcards, determined to escape the life that Dean knew he was stuck with.

Birthdays came and went like any other winter days after that. Twenty-two, thirty, thirty-six, forty-one, they all passed without incident, without mention, without name. Dean didn’t mind, it was easier that way anyway. At least, that’s what he told himself when he got himself a slice of gas-station pie on a solo hunt when he turned thirty-seven. He was lucky to be alive at all.

Dean doesn’t make it to forty-two, he misses it by a few months. Time is supposed to move differently in Heaven, but Dean still knows that it’s his birthday. He spends a lot of the day at the lake by his perfect little house, not really wanting to be bothered. He knew this day would be harder for Sam down there on Earth than it would be for him. That still bothered him, even in the middle of paradise, that Sam was hurting and he couldn’t help him through it. It was an adjustment, they all told him, something that you got used to, but how does he forget that he left his brother, the man he raised, that he loves with all he has, on Earth by himself. He’s not by himself, he reminds himself fifty or so times, staring out at the smooth, glassy surface of the water ringed with aged trees, he has Eileen, he has a life.

People seem to understand that he wants to be alone, no one swings by like they usually do to check in with him. They seem to understand that his first birthday in Heaven may be one that he wants to spend alone. Except for the dark-haired angel who settles in his own chair at the end of their little dock, sitting silently and watching the water with Dean. Dean occasionally takes his eyes off the water and settles on the angel, in his beat up Zeppelin t-shirt and jeans and boots, his messy hair and his bright blue eyes.

“Should I tell you happy birthday?” Cas eventually asks, looking at him directly, not out of the corner of his eyes, “Or is that not appropriate anymore?”

“You can,” Dean watches the minnows twirl in the water at their feet, not able to meet Cas’ eyes, “Are they looking for me?”

“I told them not to,” Cas responds, not taking his eyes off of Dean’s face, “I figured you’d need a little time. Many of them have been here for years, they forget that it takes some getting used to, especially for someone stubborn like you.”

Dean rolls his eyes but huffs a laugh in spite of himself.

“It’s not so much me,” he lets the words fall out of his mouth, uninhibited here as they were so often on Earth, “It’s more Sam. I still worry, even though I know he’ll get here eventually.”

“You raised him, it’s understandable,” Cas’ hand reaches for Dean’s and Dean takes it automatically, feeling the tightness in his chest ease at the feel of Cas’ strong, warm hand in his. He still wasn’t used to it, wasn’t used to having Cas to wake up to in the morning, having Cas hold him at night, having someone that understood him so fully, inside and out.

“Should I stop being mopey?”

“You know as well as I do that I can’t tell you what to do,” Cas smiles, “But I think Ellen might like it if you came to the Roadhouse today.”

“Why?”

“Because she wants to give you a real birthday party.”

Dean feels the way he did when he was four again: almost weightless with excitement. He doesn’t even pause, just stands up and starts dragging Cas to the Impala, speeding towards the Roadhouse and the idea of his very own birthday party in nearly forty years.

It’s just like he had always dreamed, one of those things that really made him believe this was Heaven and not just some made-up djinn dream. Everyone was there, everyone he had loved and lost and found again in the sprawling eternity that was this place. They had his favorite food, his favorite music, his favorite beer…everything was perfect. Well, he thought so anyway, until his mother came out of the kitchen with a steaming apple pie with a candle in it and set it in front of Dean. They all sang happy birthday, and he took the first bite of his birthday pie with a smile so wide he thought his face might split in two.

“Did you set all that up?” Dean asks Cas when they’re in bed that night, Cas tracing the freckles on Dean’s skin with his long fingers.

“No, I just planted the seed. Mentioned to Mary and Ellen that you might like a birthday party.”

Dean listens to the trees rustle outside their window for a while, trying to find the words.

“How’d you know?”

“Because I know you’ve never really been able to celebrate you, any milestones, any accomplishments. It’s not a hunter’s life. It’s not that I knew you wanted it, it’s that I wanted that for you. You deserve it.”

Dean closes his eyes at the words, letting them wash over him like a warm shower. He had never really thought he deserved anything, but he was starting to understand that, whether he deserved the party or the family and friends he had, he might, just maybe, deserve Cas.

“I want to give you a birthday party.”

Cas laughs, pressing his lips to Dean’s hair.

“I’m many millennia old, I don’t think I ever had a date assigned.”

“Pick one, then.”

Cas considers for a while, hands still running along Dean’s skin.

“September 22, the fall equinox.”

Dean doesn’t question it, just leans up to press his lips to Cas’.

“I’ll start planning,” he pauses again, steeling himself to find the right words, “Thank you. For today. I love you.”

“Of course. And I you.”

Dean falls asleep that night dreaming of Cas, of birthday pie, and of fall birthday parties. He learns to let Sam be, to be his own person, to celebrate himself, for a change.

#my writing #supernatural #spn #destiel #spn ficlet #dean #dean winchester

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mcwerewolfblack · 4 years

Text

Yule Ball: Part III - Professor Snape x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You and Professor Snape sort out a poorly written examination in his classroom, but somebody sees. With your reputations at stake, only magic can save you now... and a little of something else too, at a time most inopportune.

Notes: Sorry this is three days late, but I wanted to edit it to perfection, since it’s been a year since the last part! Enjoy, I love all of you so much. Happy holidays x

@fandom-puff (sorry I know there are so many more ppl who asked to be tagged but I lost track!)

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

The soft bubbling in his classroom late at night was comforting to Severus. He found it helped him think... and grade test scores, as per what he was currently preoccupied with. The moon is full outside, shining through what little window Snape had left uncovered. He ignores the squawk of Hagrid's distant Hippogriff (that thing takes pleasure in ensuring he never got any peace and quiet as of ten o clock at night) and gets back to the paper. He scowls.

"What is it with these twits?" he murmurs to himself, using his wand to mark a large "fail" on Ron Weasley's test, flopping it onto the pile of Fred and George's equally dismal efforts. Just then, he flips to one with your neat, flowery handwriting on it, and stops.

Well, what's the problem? Just mark it as you would any other student. Besides, this will be nice and quick. (y/n) always gets a perfect score on my examinations.

Beginning to read though, he finds himself beginning to frown. Wrong... another one wrong... He looks up at the ceiling, and clenches his jaw. Of course. Why should he expect any less, when you'd been all over him for the past month?

----

The next afternoon, you’re wiling away potions by watching your quill spin in its inkwell. Wandless magic, along with perfecting the art of apparition, is something you’d been trying your hand at for years, and the fruits of your labor are just starting to manifest now.

“Miss (y/l/n).”

Your attention moves up to Professor Snape, at the head of the potions room.

This your last class of the day, before a much needed weekend rest. You're supposed to get the test grades back this afternoon, and you have to say you're excited-- you studied long and hard for it, attempting to make Snape proud of a little more than your talents of bewitchment.

"Miss (y/l/n). May I see you after class?"

You smile to yourself. "Of course, sir." You expect he'll reward you, calling you his good girl, telling you all about how much you deserve him tonight. Snape was rarely pleased with anything, but you're sure he'd find exception in your astounding work.

After class had finished on the note of homework and groaning, you stay in your seat, assuring your friends you’d catch up later. Once the rest of the unassuming students had filed out, you move to get up and join him by his desk, but he strides over before you can, thwacking the test down in front of you.

"What… is this?"

You look down at it, and give him a charming smile. "The best damn exam you'll ever grade."

Snape makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan, sarcasm dripping as he says, "I insist you take a second look."

You frown, and look down at your work, flipping through. As you do, you become more and more frustrated. "But-- but I knew this one! This is... this was clearly draught of the living death..."

"Was it?" Snape asks patiently, staring at you with his arms folded, "I pray you never need to brew it, then."

You huff, glaring up at him. "Do you know, I studied for hours for this--"

"Don't lie to me," he hisses, "I know what you're doing. Fail the exam, get called up to see me when everyone else is safely in their dormitories and get the punishment of a lifetime.” He leans in, glowering. “I know how your mind works."

You balk. "You actually think I'd sacrifice my grades in potions to have sex with you?! You have more of an ego than I thought, professor!"

Snape sputters. It does sound quite far fetched the way you put it, but...

"Perhaps your exams are a little too hard," you raise your eyebrows, and push the test away from you.

"Perhaps. Perhaps I was mistaken as well..." He holds his frown. "I want a perfect grade next time, do you understand me?"

"Oh, perfectly. It's just I've been so preoccupied with extra activities, like the frog choir, that whole tri-wizard competition-- I mean the tournaments are bloody thrilling! They'll be leaving soon, anyway, with all the visitors. Also McGonagall's lessons..."

"There's nothing Professor McGonagall can do that I can't do twice as ruthlessly."

"Yes. I know," you smirk.

“Do not let it happen again. My class takes precedence… you should know that by now.” Snape waits, and when you don't get up to leave, sighs. "That will be all, Miss (y/l/n)."

“Will it?”

He turns back at your teasing tone, and already feels a headache coming on. He fell right into your trap… which wasn’t even a trap in the first place. He brought this on himself, truly. Perhaps he should just forget how to feel guilty. After all, how many times had this happened?

"I'm not wearing anything beneath my robes."

Snape gives a tight lipped smile. "I was never foolish enough to believe you were."

"Proved it a bit difficult in class..." you begin to shrug the robes off, "Malfoy was hanging over my shoulder the whole time, it's a bloody miracle he didn't get an eyeful.”

"Perhaps he did," Snape muses, "We'll never know." You watch him closely, parting your legs. He still looks hesitant, even after all these times.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," you bite your lip, starting to undo the robe, "But Professor… I want to."

He puts a hand on yours to stop you, and you look up in surprise. Maybe this is really where he would take a stand... you were wondering when he would.

But he smacks your hand away, giving you that look. "Don't touch." He turns you around, and slots himself behind you, dark hair falling against your cheek. "That's. My. Job."

You grin, and he slowly opens your robes, admiring how your tie falls between your breasts, perfectly centered.

"This will have to come off," he murmurs, taking the tie with the tip of his fingers, then stops. "Unless..."

"What?" you breathe.

He hums thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "Perhaps I ought to make sure you receive what you deserve. It was an abysmal examination score, after all..."

A thrill runs through you. "What do you mean?"

"This is the third time we've done this, and somehow I doubt it will be the last. You believe I'd let you get off without a punishment for your dangerous behavior?"

"I believe you'd let me get off.”

"Silence." Though he maintains most of his stern expression, you can sense his impulse to smirk. He takes the tie off, and ties it around your wrists behind your back, laying your back on his desk. He then begins to slowly tug the robes off, and groans when he sees your breasts bare to him in full. You moan, stretching your arms, and bite your lip, blinking up at him.

"You don't deserve what you have in mind," he whispers, "You deserve my lips on you, teasing you, bringing you close until I deny you what you need. That is what you get when you don't take my class seriously."

You whimper, rubbing your thighs together. "But Professor... please, I haven't touched myself all week."

He narrows his eyes. "Why? Preparing for something, were we?"

You avert eye contact, blushing. "I..."

"Go on."

"I expected a good grade. I thought you would reward me, daddy."

Snape inhales sharply at the name, and you see his hips start to slightly shift to rub against the desk. "Well, we both saw how that turned out. Knickers, off."

Just as you're reaching down, you both hear someone mutter an 'alohamora.' The door swings open on you and Snape. There, a boy your age stands, eyes a fraction wider.

"Krum," you breathe. He seems caught, and slowly backs away. Snape's eyes widen slightly, and you pull your robes back on. Before you can run after the visiting student though, your professor grabs your arm, tugging you back.

"He'll tell Karkarov," you protest desperately.

"He will," Snape nods, "Let him. There is little he can prove. It will just seem like dirty sportsmanship for the Durmstrang visitors to try and smear the reputation of one of Hogwarts' best teachers.”

Still... it was unnerving.

---

The next day, you're far more on edge than usual. A meeting had been called, as Snape had relayed to you, and you’re both so sure it’s about… that.

You lay on your bed, flicking your wand about as a feather dances atop you. It floats up, down, with each unspoken leviosa of your wand, and finally, you let it fall against your chest. You would much rather be practicing your apparating—it was a little harder, and would take your mind off the possibility of your getting expelled.

You try and push the thoughts of Snape out of your head, and replace them with where you want to apparate. Focus… focus…

In Dumbledore’s office, Snape takes his seat alongside McGonagall, Dumbledore, Sprout, Flitwick, Karkaroff, and Maxime. Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, he doesn’t say a word.

“Well. Let us bring to attention why this meeting has been called,” McGonagall begins, and Dumbledore nods.

“Quite right, Minerva. There has been an incident.”

In your dorm, you concentrate hard on apparating to the library. If you could only… focus…

“A special thank you to Karkaroff, for one his boys, Victor Krum, bringing this situation to our attention,” Dumbledore goes on. “It is a matter we here at Hogwarts, take very seriously.”

Snape is about to open his mouth, when he feels something under the table, directly in front of his legs.

You glance around, confused. Where had you ended up?

“A matter, I might say, that could even have serious repercussions if not looked into further.”

“Mon Dieu,” Maxime tuts, “What has happened, Albus?”

Oh, shit. Oh, shit! Your subconscious had won out. You had been thinking of Severus too much when trying to apparate, and had apparated to the meeting.

Snape could not, for the life of him, figure out what had just materialized between his legs. Pretending to drop a vial from his sleeve, he reached down to check… and the two of you came face to face.

Snape’s eyes widen, then he narrows them into slits. The glare is threatening in every way it could be, and you cower back a little.

I didn’t mean to, you try to mouth, but he’s already sat up again. His boot comes up, and lays to rest on your stomach, keeping you far away from him, yet close enough so the others can’t feel you. If anyone else was to check under the table, it’s not like you have an invisibility cloak—you’d both be dead meat.

“What, might I inquire, would this matter be?” Severus asks, in the most level voice he can manage. He was absolutely furious that you were where you were. Had you no shame? He was about to lose his job over this! You were simply taunting fate, at this point.

“I’m very glad you asked, Severus,” Karkaroff interjected with sinister glint in his eyes, “For this matter concerns you.”

Between his legs under the table, you try to apparate back. Only… you didn’t apparate with your wand on you. Damn wandless magic! Now you couldn’t get back.

“What have I got to do with anything, pray tell, Igor?” Snape is doing a rather good job of sounding unimpressed, bored even. You start to squirm, listening to his deep voice. It still does things to you, even in a situation like this. Especially in a situation like this.

“It is a matter of something Krum saw, Severus,” Dumbledore says slowly, “Something troubling indeed.”

Under the table, desire starts to creep up on you. You had been given a very rare, very exciting opportunity here. You could get back at Snape for grading your test badly, and have a little fun along the way… two can play at that game.

“You see, we have learned that it involves one of our students here at Hogwarts,” Minerva says sternly, “Namely, Miss (y/l/n) of (y/house) house.” You hesitate, then take the chance to unlatch him.

“Miss (y/l/n)?” Snape quirks a brow, “A model student.”

“Seems like such a lovely girl. Tres jolie,” Maxime comments.

Snape begins to frown, feeling your hands on his breeches. You weren’t. You wouldn’t…

“Yes, well there’s no doubt about that,” Flitwick says, “But the news we have heard of her is nothing short of shocking! Nothing we would expect from a young lady of her stature.” You take Snape out of his pants, half hard, and close your mouth softly around his tip. He tries to swat you off, but you dodge him.

“No doubt,” Minerva agrees.

“Surely…” Snape swallows, shifting his hips, “Whatever she has done… can be forgiven?” Oh….

“Why would you be so quick to forgive her, Severus?” Minerva asks, “We haven’t even learned of the situation.”

“I only wish to reprimand students when reprimandation is wholeheartedly deserved,” Snape clenches his jaw, giving you a good whack with his knee, “Otherwise, such punishment would subsequently lose its value.”

“Well. With that I agree,” Sprout speaks up, “But this, from what we’ve been led to believe, is a very serious issue!”

“Out with it, then,” Snape annunciates in that menacing tone, “What exactly has she done, and how exactly… does it involve me?” His hand grabs you by the hair under the table, and tightens. If you’re going to play with him like this, then he will remain in control.

“Why don’t we simply ask the boy himself?” Karkaroff smirks, and with a whisk of his wand and the utterance of Dumbledore’s secret password, the doors open. Victor Krum comes in, rigid as if he had been trained for battle. He gives a swift bow, and stands before them.

“Tell us what you saw, Victor,” Minerva encourages. Krum looks to everyone, brow furrowed. Snape guides your head, gritting his teeth. He’s already close, and he can faintly hear you moaning like a whore.

“Wait for a moment,” Filius says, holding up a finger, “I hear something strange.”

Snape coughs, trying to overpower the sounds of him getting his dick sucked by a slutty little student. “Must be Hagrid’s Hippogrif,” he grumbles, “The infernal thing does not know how to quiet down.”

“Buckbeak only caws at night,” Filius frowns, “This sounds much closer.”

Snape begins to sweat. This was it. If you didn’t quiet down your sounds of pleasure from under the table, you would both be found out, and that would be that. Disgraced, humiliated, cast out--

Igor clears his throat in irritation, and attention is once again collectively returned to Krum. Snape relaxes a little bit, this being the only time he’s ever praised his old death eater friend for interrupting something.

You smirk under the table, quieting your moaning down a little as Snape slams you back into him, your lips sliding down even further over his cock with each thrust into your mouth. It feels so good to be used, especially in such a dangerous situation—you’d never been so wet in your life, and you start to rub yourself, gasping softly and gagging on his large cock.

Snape curses you out in his mind. You’re a troublemaker, more than a troublemaker, and absolutely disobedient little girl. What he wouldn’t do to slam you down over a desk right at this very moment and teach you a real lesson.

“Go on,” Minerva encourages Krum gently, “What you say will never leave this room.”

“Unless required,” Flitwick sniffs, straightening his tie.

“Oh, Merlin,” Snape grunts, crumpling forward a little. He’s on the edge, he’s about to come… Everyone turns to him, their stares burning.

“Something to say, Severus?” Karkaroff jabs, sneering.

Snape’s eyelids flutter, and he white knuckles the table as his orgasm hits him. You moan under the table, feeling it on your tongue, and you come as well, biting back a whine. Fuck, you’re hit little whore… oh, yeah…

“Severus?” Minerva prods, frowning. Snape clenches his jaw, regaining his foothold on the conversation.

“Only a reminder that I am very busy and do not have all day. Consider this an encouragement, Mr. Krum, to spit it out,” he growls, then his lips tug up ever so slightly. “Though not everyone present in this room must take that advice.”

You hold back a giggle, and swallow dutifully.

Through the confused stares of the heads of houses, Krum finally speaks. Snape holds his breath, and you listen carefully, nerves buzzing. At least you went out with a bang.

“I was walking past Professor Snape’s classroom,” Krum begins, staring at the dark Slytherin head of house, “And…” Everyone seems to lean forward. “And spotted (y/n)…”

“Yes?” Sprout murmurs. Snape worries the inside of his lip. This was it. Perhaps he could apparate as smoothly as you had, out of this room. Though he could never match your impeccable timing, surely.

“—I spotted (y/n) stealing lacewing flies from Professor Snape’s personal storage.”

Snape nearly drops his jaw. Everyone at the table looks terribly scandalized, and he counts his blessings that it is not for the reason they should.

“Allow me… to explain,” he says, fixing himself discreetly under the table. “I had given (y/n) an assignment outside of class protocol, brewing a specially modified batch of polyjuice potion for extra credit. I have been tutoring her as somewhat of an apprentice.” He looks up at Krum with a curious sort of respect. “I… appreciate your diligence in reporting what would typically be an unforgivable offense against my private collection of ingredients, Mr. Krum. However, in this particular case… no further action is required, at the bidding, of course, of Headmaster Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore opens his hands. “Your explanation is quite sufficient, Severus. I see no further need to pursue any consequence toward Miss (y/l/n), if her intentions were warranted and academic.”

You sigh in relief under the table, and Snape smirks. Karkaroff is fuming, thinking the matter would absolutely ruin him. The potions master lifts his chin.

“Will that be all, then?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he growls, and rises. He gets out a small vial, and hands it to you under the table, as the others talk amongst themselves.

“Drink,” he mutters, and you do. Before your eyes, you begin to turn invisible. His potion-brewing abilities never fail to astound you. Flitwick and Sprout spot the slight elevation in the tablecloth as you get out and follow Snape. They frown at one another, and check for an open window anywhere in the office.

You follow Snape to his classroom, and this time, he locks the door.

“You are lucky he said what he did, you little harlot.”

You smirk, the small vial already wearing off. “He knows Hermione. Hermione knows me. It’s only natural he’d cover for me.”

“And what you did back under the table?!” he continues, cape billowing as he paces. You grimace a little, waiting for that. He just sighs, glancing at you. “Will be the reason for my nightly shut-ins.”

You saunter over, kissing his cheek. “I knew you’d thank me.” He doesn’t look up.

“Hardly. Detention for the remainder of the school year.”

“But sir!” You slowly start to realize what that means. “Ah. Yes, sir.”

He can’t help but smile to himself as you leave for your dormitory, admiring your uniform on the way out. Perhaps he hadn’t taken such leave of his senses when he had found you that night at the Yule Ball, as he had so forced himself to believe. Perhaps, instead, he had come to them.

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senadimell · 4 years

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If you've got time to share, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts around Snape and Lupin.

@deathdaydungeon, here you are!

After a conversation with @frederick-the-great, I’ve been thinking about Lupin, Snape, and what they say about morality in HP. I’m not talking about the troublesome white hats, black hats morality, but am instead looking at from this angle: Lupin is nice and well-liked, but often lacks a backbone, whereas Snape is mean and disliked, but incredibly brave. Which is more important? I find Harry’s last sacrifice to be a useful point by which we measure their impact.

Lupin and Snape useful to compare on several important fronts.

As foils for each others’ teaching methods

The way they deal with social disadvantage

Their connections to Harry’s father and how they pass on James’ legacy

1) They both teach at Hogwarts, and are foils for each other in many ways. Snape is mean and takes away points. He’s seen as selfish. His classes are hard and unpleasant for Harry. He’s mean to Neville, and rather than encouraging him, mocks him and belittles him, which just adds to the overall disaster of Neville’s poor self-esteem mixing badly with potions class.

However, even Umbridge admits that Snape’s teaching methods work, and she’s working for Fudge who doesn’t like Death Eaters and has been defied by Snape in GoF, so we know he’s effective for a lot of people, if not Neville.

Yet, for all that, Snape saves Harry’s life multiple times. On top of that, Snape wants to keep the fact that he saved Harry’s life a secret.

“Very well. Very Well. But never--Never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it, I cannot bear...especially Potter’s son...I want your word!

My word, Severus, that I will never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist...”

DH 679, The Prince’s Tale

Conversely, Lupin is nice and rewards points. He’s seen as generous. His classes are fun and interesting for Harry. He’s kind to Neville, and expresses confidence in him that leads him to succeed and do well. That confidence is a huge part of Neville’s character development. I doubt he’d grow into the resistance leader in DH if not for the many times teachers expressed confidence in him, like Dumbledore in PS, Lupin in PoA, Fake!Moody in GoF, and Harry in OotP. Harry certainly approves of his methods:

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

However, it’s worth noticing that Hermione does worse on his exam than we ever see. She fails the Boggart test, and she and Harry were the only two people not permitted to experience the Boggart in class. Lupin’s teaching methods aren’t foolproof. Despite that, he’s overall seen as a nice guy and good teacher.

Yet Lupin endangers Harry’s life. The secrets he keeps are dangerous: his secret to keep is that he’s a werewolf and actively endangered three students lives with his negligence, as well as the fact that he hid a secret about a believed and convicted mass murderer to save face with Dumbledore.

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”

“A thought that still haunts me,” Lupin said heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried away with out own cleverness.

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course....he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmasters would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...

Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his tryst while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me...and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

PoA 355, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Plan is emphasized because those trips that ended in “near misses” weren’t some impulsive romp. They were planned and coordinated in advance.

“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harry. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”

“I’m afraid it is, said Lupin. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

“Why?” said Harry. The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.

“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” He sighed. “That was the final straw for Severus. I think* the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he--er--accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”

“You’re not leaving because of that!” said Harry.

Lupin smiled wryly.

“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents ....They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again.

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

What strikes me about this conversation is how Lupin shifts the blame around. This doesn’t start with an admission of guilt. He’s not leaving because the parents are right. He’s not leaving because he’s seen how dangerous he can be, or because he owns up to making an incredibly dangerous decision. He’s leaving because Snape forced his hand. If Snape didn’t do that, he would do the same thing he’s always been doing: sweeping his misdoing under the rug and promising himself privately that he’s going to change, but never doing it.

It’s always someone else’s fault for Lupin. That’s a neat tie in to the next point of comparison:

2. Lupin and Snape both experience marginalization in wizarding society, but in very different ways. Lupin faces socio-legal** marginalization and Snape faces socio-economic marginalization.

Lupin’s a werewolf. We see how prejudice affects his life, from his inability to find a job and his worn out clothes to his people-pleasing nature. He’s always acting nice and harmless. He does nothing to play into the condemning stereotypes he’s faced since childhood. Despite that, he still can’t find a job. Nobody will hire him, and people are scared to interact with him. From the way he talks about werewolves, it’s implied that this prejudice is held blindly across Wizarding society. Both Ron and Hermione are horrified to learn Lupin’s a werewolf. *** Later on, he’s legally limited in the kinds of jobs he holds and the kind of magic he’s allowed to perform. Lupin has no control over his transformations, and did not choose his condition.

Lupin’s not really wrong when pities himself. The odds really are stacked against him when he’s treated as if he’s a wolf 24/7, not just a few predictable times a month. His prospects are honestly awful.

The problem is, his condition is dangerous. Thus, the issue of victim blaming is particularly thorny for Lupin. He can’t just accept that he’s a monster for something he has no say over, and yet he can’t escape the fact that sometimes he is monstrous for reasons out of his control. He feels guilty for the people he could have hurt, but also seems to resent that people blame him for something that’s not his fault. The problem is that he carries that lack of accountability into spheres where he should be accountable, like not taking his medication and endangering children because of it.

Snape’s story is very different. He is poor in both the wizard and muggle worlds, and half-blooded, and was sorted into Slytherin as a child. He doesn’t have one condition against him, but checks boxes that make it hard for any one side to accept him. He’s too impure and poor to survive on his own for the Slytherin, but is a Slytherin with Death Eater friends and housemates interested in dark magic, which means he’s never going to fit in with the Order of the Phoenix crowd, especially when some of its members torment him at school. ****4

This essay makes a convincing point that the wizarding world is not a meritocracy, and that people like Snape need powerful patronage to advance if they don’t have the money to support themselves.

I don’t consider the sorting a proper choice. I know Harry does, but I’m of the opinion that at age 11, very few people have been taught how to analyze different perspectives and make an informed decision. Most 11-year-olds are trained to obey their parents and accept their family’s ideology. Harry’s choice rests on very little evidence--most of what he knows is what Hagrid told him, and that he doesn’t want to be sorted into Voldemort’s house along with Draco Malfoy, someone who reminds him of Dudley. I don’t think Snape was very informed either (I’d love to know why), because he doesn’t realize why it Lily wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin.

“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little. DH 671, The Prince’s Tale

Either the pureblood rhetoric just wasn’t strong in those days, or his mother didn’t tell him about that.

...“Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James lifted an invisible sword.

“’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”

Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

“Got a problem with that?”

“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy--”

DH 671-2, The Prince’s Tale

It seems that most people just follow familial preferences. As to why Snape wants to be in Ravenclaw over Slytherin, my preferred interpretation is that he had a family legacy, knew that Slytherin rewarded the ambitious and clever, and that Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, had a knack for making the kind of connections that a poor, clever boy would need to succeed.

Nevertheless, once Snape was in Slytherin, the odds were stacked against him. The house in that era was full of people who would later be Death Eaters. “Dark Magic” wasn’t frowned upon among his housemates, and siding with Voldemort wasn’t yet widely acknowledged as a transgression by wider society.

“No, no, but believe me, [Sirius’ parents] thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things.…” OotP 112

Additionally, people like Bellatrix were in the years above him, and given how Fred and George acted with younger students, I think it’s highly likely younger students had to find a place in the hierarchy or be the target of ‘pranks.’ He was a halfblood, after all, and dirt poor.

Snape knew these people. He ate with them, slept with them, and went to class with them. It is so much easier to understand and befriend someone you spend time with. I’d say that most people who subscribe to problematic ideologies aren’t just awful to be around all the time, or else these movements wouldn’t gain any traction. They’re likely funny and nice to be around if you’re not on their bad side.

In addition to strong peer pressure to befriend the people who would be death eaters, he was also bullied four to one. His bullies received protection from the headmaster when he was nearly killed or permanently maimed. They were popular and well liked.

The best analogy I’ve heard to describe Snape's Hogwarts situation is that he’s a kid in a rough neighborhood who joins the local gang. It provides protection and the hope of social mobility, and from his perspective, the other gang fights just as dirty (his treatment by the marauders). He doesn’t stop to think that the system is flawed, or that the gang’s very existence indicates the failure of authority and threatens its members. He just sees himself as a kid with nothing who needs help with protection and advancement. We know that Voldemort hasn’t shown his true colors, and it’s possible he showed different faces to different people.

‘Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ’em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.

‘Maybe he thought he could persuade ’em ... maybe he just wanted ’em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –’ (“The Keeper of the Keys”)

Dumbledore’s cited as the reason they turned him down, not their blood status. I think there’s evidence that the wholesale anti-muggleborn campaign wasn’t a huge part of the first wizarding war, and wasn’t implemented until the second, even if there was anti-muggle propaganda. (Muggle=/=muggleborn). It’s implied that Tobias is abusive and that Snape hates him for what he did to him and his mother; it’s implied that faced class prejudice by the muggles around him as well:

“I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation.

DH 665, The Prince’s Tale

When you read stories about people who are able to escape cycles of gang violence and poverty, there’s almost always someone who lifts them out. There’s someone who pushes them, or extends a hand, or believes in them. There are community outreach programs, or churches, or an English teacher that pushed them to do better and try out for a scholarship. That person is usually someone who knows what it’s like and knows how hard it is to get out.

Snape doesn’t seem to get that support anywhere. Slughorn doesn’t seem to notice him, for whatever reason. Lily doesn’t approve of his friends, but also doesn’t understand at all what the pull is--that it’s hard to swim against the current of what everyone else is saying, despite the fact that she feels the same pressure to end her friendship with Snape.

“… thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying. “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Every and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Marry Macdonald the other day?”

DH 673, The Prince’s Tale

In the very same conversation, the fact that Snape is not allowed to share what happened to him with Lupin and the werewolf incident means that Lily will never be able to understand what Snape is facing: That the leader of the good guys makes excuses for and protects people who recklessly endanger the lives of others.

“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Wollow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there--”

Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too!...”

DH 674, The Prince’s Tale

Later in the year after SWM, she tells Snape this:

“None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you.”

DH 675 The Prince’s Tale

She expects him to reject all of his classmates and stand against the tide, despite the fact that she knows how hard it is to do that and can’t comprehend why he sticks with his classmates. She expects him to be grateful to James Potter as if what he did was altruistic, because the Headmaster swore Snape to secrecy and he keeps his promises, despite the fact that someone else was spreading the story. (The fact that she says she heard it instead of talking about it like its common knowledge implies that she heard it from a friend, so our friends the Marauders likely weren’t keeping their lips zipped even if Snape was.)

I don’t say this to shift the blame away from Snape to Lily in regards to Snape joining the Death Eaters. I just want to point out that Lily wasn't someone who could help him break the cycle. He didn’t squander some chance she offered him. She just wasn’t enough to break him out--not empathetic, motivated, or well-informed enough. (I think the fact that they were peers plays a big role in that).

Ultimately, Snape did choose to join the Death Eaters. He did yield to peer pressure. He did obey his assignment and report the prophecy to Voldemort. He spent his youth yielding, following the path in front of him, and choosing what was probably the easier choice: stick with your group, find powerful friends, do what they want, and don’t ask too many questions about their methods. That’s what makes his decision to betray Voldemort so powerful to me.

Here’s part of the passage when Snape betrays Voldemort:

...The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone...His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for--

Then a sliding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

“Don’t kill me!”

DH 676, The Prince’s Tale

He was terrified. He knew he was caught between the world’s two most powerful wizards, but it was worth it if he could save his childhood friend.

Then when Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the share and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone...dead...”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish..I wish I were dead....”

“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly.

DH 678, The Prince’s Tale

Whatever motivation Snape had before is gone. A person’s life who is not his own is worth more than his own, and he’s drowning in guilt. From now on, Snape works to be useful in saving Harry’s life, and later many lives, at risk of death. His choices are a black mark on his record, likely making it difficult for him to get a job when he’s been tried as a Death Eater, and all of his wizarding connections are Death Eaters or their associates. He has no money or influence. Dumbledore hires him.

So Lupin has a single ailment and faces constant social and legal discrimination. He constantly tries to undermine people’s expectations about werewolves by being mild, but unfortunately is too afraid of rejection and its consequences to stand up against bad behavior or take full responsibility for his failings. He has friends who support him, but do it by engaging in risky behavior. He does not stop them. Perhaps he fears exposure and expulsion. Perhaps he just likes belonging for once. Either way, he does not come clean until forced to.

Snape is different; instead of facing outright rejection, he’s from a poor background and grows up surrounded by peers who join something somewhere between a gang and a cult while being bullied by people groomed by a rival organization. The headmaster of his school supports the rival organization and swears him to secrecy about an incident when they endangered his life, sending the message that his life is worthless. That same group continues to publicly bully him. He continues down this path until he realizes that it endangers something he cares about, and makes a decision that puts him at risk of being killed by the two most powerful wizards alive. He changes course.

Snape seems to view his problems as challenges facing him, whereas Lupin sees his problems as part of who he is, and not something he can change. Lupin seems to accept what happens to him in a fatalist kind of way. He sees what happens as inevitable and somewhat out of his control, whereas Snape never seems to blame his circumstances for him becoming a death eater, even though they clearly limited his options. I think that attitude matters. However, because Lupin’s facing a fictional magical malady, it’s difficult to fully blame him for that attitude.

Both Lupin and Snape have to react to powerful societal pressure that makes it difficult for them to succeed. Comparing them is apples and oranges at best, because their circumstances were so different. I don’t think you can judge either’s morality based on group identity, though.

3. Finally, they both act as a window on James: who he was, and what he means to Harry, who never knew him. That means in some way, they help pass on his parental legacy to orphaned Harry.

Hogwarts is Harry’s home, which means that the teachers are more than just teachers, but play a symbolic parental role in his life.

Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.

DH 697, The Forest Again

You can’t understand Harry without realizing what he lacks: a loving home and living parents. He’s always looking into the past to find his parents, and is saddled with a legacy he struggles to understand--why did he live, who were his parents, and what does he need to do now?

Lupin and Snape also share a connection with Harry that goes beyond a normal teacher-student relationship, unlike McGonagall or Flitwick. Snape and Lupin are more personally connected to Harry than the other professors because they know Harry’s parents and went to school with them. I will mostly focus on James from here on out since we know so little about Lily personally and Harry mostly tries to emulate or avoid his father’s behavior and legacy.

They’re also the last people who knew James to survive, and they die almost at the same time. They’re the only teachers apart from Dumbledore who give Harry private lessons. More importantly, these lessons are all tied thematically to Harry’s past. Harry’s experience with dementors and the patronus charm are his first re-encounter with his parents and his past.

Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these are the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again.

PoA 243, The Patronus

In the end of PoA, Harry sees himself and mistakenly thinks it’s his father.

“Come on!” he muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Dad, come on--”

But no one came. Harry raised his head to look atet he circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time--

And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn’t seen his father--he had seen himself--

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his want.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled.

PoA 411, Hermione’s Secret

So the patronus itself is linked up with Harry’s past, and his coming-of-age. He doesn’t rely on others to save him, but must do it himself. (Though Harry’s never really trusted the adults to save him.) It’s interesting to note that Harry actually learns the Patronus charm under Lupin’s tutelage.

On the other hand, Snape introduces Harry to the unpleasant side of his father’s legacy. Through Snape, we see that James wasn’t just a little cocky, but a bully.

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. “I don't want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You're as bad as he is.” “What?” yelped James. “I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!” “Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

....

He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at or having jars thrown at him; it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him. OotP, Snape’s Worst Memory, emphasis added

It’s interesting note that Harry fails to learn Occlumency from Snape. (In fact, we never see Harry use magical skills he learned from Snape apart from Expelliarmus, which is...important). At the same time, he gains an important perspective.

You can’t have James without this part of him. However kind James was to Lupin, however brave James was when he saved his wife, he was neither kind nor brave when he bullied Snape. It’s uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s important.

When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen —”

“I’m fifteen!” said Harry heatedly.

OotP

Harry rejects the idea that actively bullying someone is just folly of youth. He knows what it’s like to be disenfranchised. Regardless of what Snape and James’ relationship was, he didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. And Lupin watched, and defends him. Harry has to grapple with that.

Ultimately, Snape and Lupin do more than just connect him to his past. They also teach him his two signature spells, Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum. One saves his soul, and one saves his life and frees the wizarding world from Voldemort because of Voldemort’s fractured soul.

Snape and Lupin as moral counterpoints

How do we evaluate this:

“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”*****5

DH 213, The Bribe

and this?

“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.

DH 758, Seventeen years later

Ultimately, I don’t think it’s really that useful to pit two people with different backgrounds against each other. At the same time, they represent two different halves of a question: when it comes down to it, should we try to be kind or brave? I don’t think you have to pick one, but when pursuing the two, there are bound to be moments of conflict.

I always come back to the lyrics to Last Midnight from Sondheim’s Into the Woods.******6

You're so nice You're not good You're not bad You're just nice I'm not good I'm not nice I'm just right I'm the witch You're the world

Snape doesn’t care about being nice. I think this is where most non-Snape fans start pulling out the pitchforks and torches. Snape isn’t nice, and he’s not nice to kids. He’s not nurturing.*******7 He’s abrasive, allergic to coddling, and petty when he can get away with it. In fact, most of the people he’s ‘nice’ to are significantly more powerful than him, or someone he needs to be on good terms with.

Lupin is nice. He’s mild. He’s often kind. However, he often picks being liked over standing up for something.

What does that result in? He doesn’t stand up for Snape. The bullying continues and keeps Snape firmly on his path. He wins the respect of the Gryffindors with the Snape Boggart incident but loses whatever credibility he had to tell Snape to ‘put their past behind him.’

On the other hand, Neville’s bravery in DH was nurtured by Lupin’s confidence. Neville kept hope alive and led a rebellion. Lupin is one of the few adults that Harry fully respects and trusts up until the Grimmauld place confrontation. (He likes Hagrid and Molly, but doesn’t necessarily trust them to make decisions in their best interest, while he usually respects Lupin’s judgement). Harry loves him, and it’s because he loved him and watched him die that he needs to act and fight back against Voldemort.

Ultimately, Harry’s relationship with James and the adults who pass on his legacy is one of the most important symbolic relationships in the book. The thematic resolution of the series is Harry’s act of sacrificial love.

He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done....

...He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never had died...

He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tongs...He yearned not to feel....He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside of him.

To escape into someone else’s head would be a blessed relief....Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts.

DH 660-662, The Prince’s Tale

He rushes to the headmaster’s office to escape into Snape's memories. His memories convince Harry that sacrificing himself is the expedient thing to do, and he heads to the Forbidden Forest. To enable is last sacrifice, he uses the Resurrection stone to witness his parents and his father’s friends. Their combined testimony is enough to ameliorate his personal fears about following through with this final act.

Lupin and Snape leave entirely different legacies behind. Lupin encourages and inspires. As an authority figure, he gives people like Neville space to grow and his compassion towards Harry gives him the strength to face his demons. Harry’s decision in DH to die must have something to do with the kindness he was shown, and the sacrifices people who loved him made for him, of which Lupin is a part. Despite what he saw in Princes’ Tale, Snape wasn’t one of the people who’d make an appearance with the Resurrection stone.

Yet Snape sacrificed his life for Harry and the wizarding world, entities that Snape didn’t seem to like and that certainly weren’t kind to him. His form of bravery is about endurance, tenacity, and willingness to do what is right even when you hate your allies and no one else is going to credit you for what you do. And that’s very Harry. Even if he hates Draco, he’s not about to let him die if he can help it. Harry has much more in common with Snape than Lupin, I think.

Since this is about souls, let’s return to the Patronus charm. Snape’s not the kind of person who typically inspires that kind of emotion required to cast a Patronus in others, at least from what we see in Harry’s perspective. Yet because he has experienced that love, he can cast it and shows Harry what needs to be done. Snape enables Harry to dive under the ice. Lupin’s the kind of person who can inspire a patronus, but isn’t the one to make the sacrifice play until after Harry confronts him about his duty to his family. Ultimately, though, they both sacrifice themselves in the Battle of Hogwarts.

* Ever since I realized how blatantly tangential Order of Merlin must be to Snape’s character motivation, that line has frustrated me to no end. There’s no way frothing-at-the-mouth PoA Snape just really coveted that Order of Merlin. He’s often petty, yeah, but if Lupin believes it’s just about that and has nothing to do with Snape’s real conviction about how dangerous Lupin’s actions were, he’s deluding himself. I hate that he passes it on to his students.

**Yes, I am making up words today. Lupin’s faces prejudice and discrimination on a social level enforced by increasingly powerful discriminatory laws.

*** It’s worth noting that if we take every book as equally valid canon, then there’s either widespread ignorance towards lycanthropy, as Lockhart convinces everyone he was able to “cure” the Wagga-Wagga werewolf, and as teenage Horcrux!Riddle said Hagrid raised werewolf cubs under his bed, or else lycanthropy is actually a wide range of conditions under a wolfy umbrella ranging from treatable to incurable. Lupin is our primary source for lycanthropy: he’s the one who tells us about Greyback, for example. If we hold the first two books as equally valid, then perhaps we only know about Lupin’s particular type of condition. That’s the Watsonian analysis, anyways.

****4 These footnotes are getting ridiculous. Basically, there’s no consensus on what Dark Magic is, and on what basis it’s Evil. This essay goes into things that are labelled as curses. I’m inclined to believe that the vast majority of Dark Magic is just Magic We Don’t Like for Reasons.

The definition of what is and isn't considered Dark Magic is never explained: often it just seems to mean "a curse I don't approve of". Even "curse" has never been satisfactorily defined, but we can certainly say that not all curses are regarded as evil, since some appear to be on the Hogwarts curriculum, and are certainly performed without censure.

*****5 While I paired the quotes at the top of this section together for dramatic effect, it’d be a shame not to look at the context of the Lupin fight.

“I thought you’d say [that your mission was top secret],” said Lupin, looking disappointed. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to. Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer.

Hermione then asks about Tonks.

“I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually”... ...“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”

...“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”

...“I know I shouldn’t have called him a coward.”“No, you shouldn’t,” said Ron at once. “But he’s acting like one. “ “All the same...” said Hermione.

“I know,” said Harry. “But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

He could not keep the plea out of his voice. Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron uncertain. Harry looked down at his feet, thinking of his father. Would James have backed Harry in what he had said to Lupin, or would he have bene angry at how his son had treated his old friend?

DH 213, The Bribe

Harry feels personally betrayed that someone who has a family and child would abandon them. Here he is unyielding and accusing to someone he cares about in the hopes that they re-evaluate what matters. It’s a rather Snape-like tactic, actually. Or else a Dumbledore one.

I love the dialogue in this scene, but have some major issues with how Harry’s internalization drops out the window for shock value. JKR does the same thing when has Harry pull the Veritaserum trick in HBP. I don’t like it.

******6 The witch and Snape aren’t perfect analogues, since she’s decidedly more amoral in my opinion, but they’re both contractually-motivated characters whose humanity is shown by their (platonic/familial) love for a more “innocent” character and the guilt at the innocent character’s sacrificial death. Guilt doesn’t lead the witch to do anything productive, and for Snape it does, which is where they diverge on the character path.

*******7 Draco may be an exception to this. However, watching Snape struggle to build rapport with Draco in HBP leads me to think that while Snape’s been on Draco’s side, he’s still not “nurturing,” or in other words, good at cultivating trust and encouraging the strong and wholesome parts of someone’s personality to grow.

#hp meta #snape #pro snape #severus snape #remus lupin #i haven't figured out how to make this appear above the cut...

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Idle Chat with Victor

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Gavin / Kiro / Lucien / Shaw

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Overtime is finally over!! I’m going home to lie down~ I miss my bed and pillow so much

Victor: You’re working overtime again?

Victor: The timing for tomorrow's report will be changed to the afternoon

Victor: You can get more sleep in the morning.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’m completely not in the mood to work today, and think I’ll have to work overtime again. I wonder if I’ll be able to finish by 10pm... I’m a little tired, and really miss my bed.

Victor: Instead of letting your mind wander, why not complete the work on hand quickly.

Victor: You were in the mood to play on your phone and send messages in the afternoon though.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I have to work overtime today! I feel as though I’m basically living in the office recently! I wonder when such days will come to an end...

Victor: Do you want me to award you with a “Most Hardworking Employee” certificate?

Victor: There’s no need for unnecessary overtime

Victor: Tonight, go home and have a good rest.

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: It’s the happy day of payday! Even though I have to pay for various expenses, I’ll live in the moment. So tonight, I’ve decided to have a big feast in Souvenir

Victor: Souvenir isn’t open tonight.

Victor: But if you want to come, I can make an exception.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: In just the blink of an eye, payday is arriving. Come to think of it, the term “income” doesn’t seem to be related to you at all. Doesn’t this mean you’re short of one form of happiness?

Victor: Your definition of “happiness” is overly simplistic.

Victor: I don’t need to consider such things.

Victor: Also, when do you intend to submit the financial statements from the previous quarter?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why is there never enough income? I didn’t do much this month, but ended up spending so much. I’m troubled.

Victor: Are you hinting that I should increase your pay?

Victor: It isn’t an impossibility.

Victor: As long as you give me a convincing reason.

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: That collaboration I mentioned the last time was successful! Phew - it’s really been full of twists and turns, and I almost thought it’d fail. It’s a good thing we didn’t give up!

Victor: Since it’s successful, bring the proposal over along with your report next week.

Victor: I’ve asked Goldman to schedule a meeting.

Victor: Also, you did well this time.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I really have no idea what to do for the new program. I’ve thought of a few perspectives, but everyone thinks they aren’t that great. It feels like all my inspiration has dried up...

Victor: In that case, work on something else to divert your train of thought.

Victor: There are many methods, and you can pick one yourself.

Victor: If you can’t think of anything, come to Souvenir after work.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The new proposal hasn’t been going smoothly... I was full of vigour at first, but I feel slightly discouraged now. Sigh, I’m starting to doubt life.

Victor: Didn’t you boast shamelessly before that you’d definitely do it?

Victor: Why don’t you take out that vigour you showed me?

Victor: I can spare some time later to help you take a look.

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I didn’t expect the program to be approved so smoothly. I even thought it’d get stuck for a long time like the previous case. Looks like praying to you before the meeting was effective!

Victor: Dummy. Praying to me isn’t effective.

Victor: The proposal you did this time wasn’t bad

Victor: Continue making persistent efforts.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The program on hand is stuck mid-way again. Recently, it feels as though everything isn’t going smoothly. Do you have time to take a look at my proposal?

Victor: Come to my house this weekend

Victor: I can spare two hours.

Victor: If you’re asking for my guidance, have you thought about how to pay the tutoring fee?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The collaborative program with Loveland TV didn’t get approved again!! I’ve already made five amendments!! Life is really difficult!

Victor: While burying your head in amendments, did you find the reason why it wasn’t approved?

Victor: If you didn’t, let Goldman help.

Victor: As for the rest, I believe you can handle them.

🌹

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: When I measured myself today, I realised that I’ve actually lost weight! Truly, “shut your mouth, move your legs”.

Victor: Since you have the determination to persevere

Victor: Looks like the pudding you wanted as a reward can be called off.

[Note] 管住嘴迈开腿 (“Shut your mouth, move your legs”) is a motto for losing weight in Chinese.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It’s strange... Why isn’t there the slightest change in my weight even after exercising persistently for several days?! This has greatly swayed my determination to continue exercising.

Victor: Is this another one of your reasons to be lazy?

Victor: Continue with your morning run tomorrow.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: During the company’s physical examination, I received a bit of a blow. I actually put on so much weight!! From tomorrow onwards, I’m going to lose weight!

Victor: You do have to control yourself and have fewer suppers and snacks.

Victor: Instead of tormenting yourself alone

Victor: From tomorrow onwards, you’ll join me in my morning run.

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I followed a recipe and whipped up coffee chicken perfectly! Even though it looks slightly flawed, the taste deserves 80 marks. Want to give it a try?

Victor: I’m suspicious of what you call “perfect”.

Victor: I’m not at home now. Come to LFG to look for me.

Victor: I hope your skills won’t disappoint me.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: How can I control the thickness of congee? I accidentally poured too much water, and now it has become a pot of rice soup. I even wanted to show you once I succeeded...

Victor: Looks like everything related to “appropriateness” is difficult for you to comprehend.

Victor: What congee are you trying to cook?

Victor: I’ll get someone to prepare the ingredients. Come over and I’ll teach you personally.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I tried following the recipe you gave me, but failed... I’m not asking for it to be delicious and perfect, but it ended up looking like dark cuisine. I followed every single thing you wrote though!

Victor: This has nothing to do with the recipe.

Victor: As long as you are half as serious about cooking as you are eating it

Victor: It wouldn’t become like this.

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve finally finished reading that book you recommended. It’s very interesting!

Victor: What else did you plan to understand?

Victor: I don’t often read such books.

Victor: But after reading it, I realised that there are some merits.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Today, I purchased a few books on management but didn’t have time to read them. Come to think of it, I haven’t finished reading the books I bought the last time either. But the internet says that buying books but not reading them is also a form of charity~

Victor: So the reason why you buy books is for “charity” reasons?

Victor: Next time, don’t just buy any book you see

Victor: If you don’t know what to buy, ask me.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I just finished reading a very long book... In the end, everyone died aside from the protagonist! Why is there such a tragic ending!

Victor: So do you want to change the ending?

Victor: Have a night’s rest, and you’ll forget about it tomorrow.

Victor: Don’t complain about dark eye circles the next time.

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’m at home since it’s a vacation today, and successfully finished all stages of a game! I said that I have a natural talent when it comes to games, didn’t I? The next time we play together, I won’t be in a flurry like the last time.

Victor: When did I agree to play games with you again?

Victor: If the new program you proposed can rank first in the ratings

Victor: I wouldn’t mind seeing the results of your practice.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve entered a game wasteland. Even though I usually don’t spend much time playing games... But when I want to play, there’s nothing worth playing, and I end up feeling very bored.

Victor: Apart from playing games, don’t you have other things to do?

Victor: If you really feel bored

Victor: There’s a dinner party tonight. You can come with me.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When I was discussing a collaborative project today, I tried playing two rounds of Texas hold ’em. It ended in a tragic defeat... These games which require skill and thinking are not suitable for me.

Victor: Actually, it’s rules are very simple.

Victor: Playing such games requires sufficient patience and ambition.

Victor: I’ll teach you next time.

🌹

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve read through all the materials beforehand. I initially thought these were hieroglyphics, but now I realise they aren’t that difficult~

Victor: Since you could persevere, it looks like it wasn’t just a flash in the pan.

Victor: If you pass the exam, I’ll consider giving you a reward.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It has been two hours since I started studying, and my progress is 10%. Ahhh I have to make full use of my time!! Why does time disappear the moment my mind wanders...

Victor: If you want to make full use of your time, you should be keeping your phone.

Victor: Next time, lock your phone away before you start studying

Victor: It can prevent 80% of your loss of focus.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I understand every word, but I can’t comprehend the sentence. I doubt I can finish learning all the materials before the examination. It’s really difficult!

Victor: You chose the hardest difficulty for yourself, so it’s too late to give up.

Victor: But the fact that you could persevere till now

Victor: It already makes one see you in a different light.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I just did two sets of examination questions, and the options I picked were all correct! I’m truly an ordinary small genius~ My confidence has shot up!

Victor: Before the final results, blind confidence isn’t much help.

Victor: But I’m looking forward to the final examination script you submit.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It just dawned on me... why do I still have homework?! I thought the word “homework” was long gone. I didn’t expect that I wouldn’t be able to escape from its shadow.

Victor: If your procrastination didn't show up, all these could have been completed very quickly.

Victor: Aside from homework, don’t forget the report for this quarter.

Victor: I don’t accept unexplained delays.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I plan to apply for leave from the meeting tomorrow afternoon. Tonight, I’m going to spend the entire night completing the heap of homework... I don’t believe I can’t finish them!!

Victor: With such vigor, why didn’t you complete some earlier?

Victor: Your goal is simply to pass the exam, so you can do some selection

Victor: There’s no need to foolishly set unnecessary requirements for yourself.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’m done with revision, and have a feeling that I’ll pass successfully this time! If I manage to pass, I’ll invite you out to celebrate. I’ve already thought of the location!

Victor: I accompanied you in studying for such a long time. If you can’t pass, I’ll be skeptical of your brain.

Victor: Right now, the most important thing is to conserve your strength and energy.

Victor: Switch off your phone, and go to sleep.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Although I’m all prepared, my heart still feels very nervous... If I had known earlier, I would have prayed for a “Pass Every Exam” sign!!

Victor: Since you’re all prepared, why are you still nervous?

Victor: Forget it, I shouldn’t have had expectations for your psychological state...

Victor: Give me a call before you sleep.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why do people need to go through exams... Why do people need to do revision... Why do people need to live...

Victor: Weren’t you brimming with confidence when you signed up?

Victor: There’s still time

Victor: I can accompany you in looking through the questions one more time.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is over! I plan to celebrate with a feast! I feel as though the gigantic stone in my heart has finally been lifted. I’m back to being a brave heroine~

Victor: The results aren’t out and you’re already so confident?

Victor: Forget it, I won’t deal any blows

Victor: What do you want to eat? Let me know once you’ve decided.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I wonder when the examination results would be released... Not being able to see the marks always makes my heart feel uneasy. Although I said I was going to celebrate, I don’t have much of a mood now.

Victor: Your mentality has room for improvement.

Victor: No matter how much you think about it, you can’t change the marks.

Victor: Come to Souvenir tonight - treat it as a celebration for completing your exam.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The results of today’s exam are out! I obtained 30 marks more than the passing mark! I originally wanted to celebrate, but I heard a grievous piece of news - It turns out that the written examination only constitutes 60% of the marks! The rest are constituted by attendance!

Victor: This score is much higher than your previous test

Victor: As for the remaining marks, I recall that your attendance should be sufficient

Victor: There’s no need to worry.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor

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multisfabulis · 3 years

Text

Wayfinder’s Voyage

Terrestrial (Chapter 2 | 2)

Word Count: 6427

Fun fact, the last part of this chapter was written and finished during Terraqua week on Twitter so this marks the second time I've written a fic for a ship and the ship week just happens to roll around when I get around to writing it. Maybe lightning will strike twice around this time next year!

While I was reading fics on AO3 over the past day, I noticed a couple things. One is that the two people I read the fics from put more thought into their works than I did and I spent a month and a half writing both these chapters. The other is that my interpretation of this ship is vastly different from others which isn't a bad thing! I think my years of writing my original ship of Verreth has gotten me to stay with the "slow" aspect of slowburn with plans of payoff being sometime in the future. I do plan on writing payoff for this ship someday, just at some point in the undetermind future!

One last thing is there's a timeline with this fic! It's not super necessary to know but for those wondering, there's 4 scenes in both chapters and it goes Aqua 1 > Terra 1 > T2 > A2 > A3 > T3 > A4 > T4. Hopefully, that's not confusing!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

Today had been a good day, thought Terra as he headed towards the library. He was coming from Aqua’s room after finding that she wasn’t there and figured she’d be at the library studying. They’d finished their daily training earlier so he wanted to spend some time with her before evening rolled around. Besides, he wanted to thank her for helping him out with his magic skills, or lack thereof. It was only because of her guidance he was able to do what he did today.

He felt like he was in top form. He mastered new techniques for his Keyblade, learned to use some strong magic, and even earned Eraqus’ praise. This was honestly a great day and he wanted Aqua to partake in his revelry. She needed a break from studying anyway so this was as good a time as any.

He stepped inside the library through the grand set of double doors. Tall bookcases lined the walls from top to bottom, left to right. Sunlight poured in from the great western window, causing the tables sitting in the center to cast large shadows all across the tiled floor. He looked at where she usually sat and, while there was a stack of books and some paper lying on the table, she wasn’t there. That struck him as odd since she normally put things back where they belonged. If she wasn’t in her room or here, something must’ve happened.

He searched all over for her but he still couldn’t find her. There’s no way she left the Land of Departure so she had to be somewhere. The only place he hadn’t checked yet was the mountain, which he was unsure about. She never ventured far from the building and that was when she was outside but it was the best guess he had. He ran out the front door and down the stairs leading up.

He didn’t need to look very far. He found her sitting on the edge of the Forecourt with her knees drawn up to her chest, looking off into the horizon. This had happened enough times for him to know she was deep in thought over something. Whatever she was thinking about, it was affecting her to the point she wasn’t acting like her usual self and he couldn’t just ignore her.

She didn’t seem to acknowledge him when he sat down beside her. He decided to give her some time to see if she wanted to speak first. A moment or two of silence passed before it was made clear he had to be the one to break the ice. Starting off with a question looked to be the right way to go.

“Everything okay?”

He saw the corner of her mouth curve up into a tiny smile and she replied, “Yeah, I’m just…thinking.”

“About what?” he asked.

She leaned back and let her legs hang off the edge of the Forecourt. “The future, I guess.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Our future as Keyblade Masters, I mean.”

That caught him off-guard. She wasn’t one to worry about the future, least of all them becoming Masters. She never thought of it as an if, instead an expectation to meet one day, so to hear her say those words concerned him somewhat. The only possible explanation he could think of was that she was starting to doubt herself and her abilities as a Keyblade wielder.

Of course, that made no sense. Despite her modesty, she’s proven her strength and capabilities more times than he could remember to both him and their master, not to mention she had the heart to show for it. He had the confidence in believing she’d pass her exam with flying colors and become a pretty damn good Keyblade Master. Maybe she just needed to be reminded of that?

“Hey, if you’re worried about not becoming a Master, I don’t think you have any reason to,” he said in an attempt to reassure her. “Me and Master know you’ll ace your Mark of Mastery exam and---”

“You don’t understand, that’s exactly what I mean!” After shouting that, she leaned forwards and put her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes fixed on them. “Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

So he was wrong, which left him even more confused on what was going on than before. “Then what are you worried about?”

Breathing in deep, she answered with, “We said we’d become Masters together one day, right? But what happens if we don’t? What if only one of us passes and the other fails?”

“You mean, if you were to pass and I were to fail?” Was that really what she was tearing herself up over? It’s a possibility that’s stuck with him for a while now and, though he’d prefer it not happen at all, it wouldn’t bother him too much if it came true. “Well, if it happens, it happens. It’s not up to us on whether we become Masters or not, you know that.”

“But I don’t want to be the only one who passes.” She finally looked at him for the first time since this conversation began. “I don’t want to be a master without you, Terra.”

Her earnest sincerity flustered him, causing him to avert his eyes away from her gaze as his heart fluttered wildly about. There was a part of him that, admittedly, was touched by her devotion to him. It was just like her to want that and share the enjoyment of hitting that milestone together. But what kind of friend would he be if he let her give up on her dream? It may have been theirs all this time but she stood a real chance at getting it and she deserved it.

“Aqua, as much as I understand how you’re feeling, you shouldn’t pass up on being a Master for my sake,” he said, hoping that he was getting through to her. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“But I don’t want my title to come between us. I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want you to…” she trailed off. Looking her way revealed her hands to be clasped tightly together in her lap. Even without that little indicator, she didn’t need to finish for him to know what she meant.

He slowly reached over, took her hand in his, and held it to ease her shaking. “I could never hate you, Aqua. You’re my friend and I just want you to be happy.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued on, “That’s why I promise that, if you’re the only one of us who passes, I’ll support you 100% all the way.” He gave her hand a firm yet gentle squeeze. “I give you my word.”

She stiffened beside him yet she didn’t try to take her hand away. The only sound that broke through the quiet was the ambient noise surrounding them. He watched as her shoulders shook and she wiped unshed tears from the corners of her eyes. Even so, he could see a small smile on her face. Sometimes, all she needed to hear were words of encouragement, which he was more than happy to provide.

Eventually, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Now it was his turn to act like he got hit with electricity. Before he could say or do anything more to react, she whispered:

“Thank you.”

He hoped she couldn’t see the defeated yet tender smile he had. There was a reason he felt something akin to fondness for her when she did something like this. He liked this part of her, even if it did leave him feeling like a fish out of water sometimes. He rested his cheek against her in an attempt to return her affection. Whether she’d realize that or not remained to be seen.

“You’re welcome.”

They stayed like that for as long as they could. From watching the sun set over the horizon to greeting the night sky together, they stayed. Their only witnesses were the stars above them as they twinkled in the darkness.

Terra let out a yawn as he walked down the corridor leading to his room. He had just gotten back from doing some late night training outside and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. It was tiring yet rewarding, which gave him hope he’d get stronger the longer he kept at it. If he had any chance at becoming a Keyblade Master, he figured this was his best shot.

It was when he was reaching the library he noticed it. A dull orange glow was emanating from the crack under the set of double doors, which he found to be strange because who could be in there at this late hour? Master would’ve already retired to his chambers earlier in the night so it had to be the only other person living here. Was she still studying, even with it being this late?

He pushed open the doors and stepped inside, his voice breaking the silence with a single call of her name. He didn’t get an answer and soon realized why. At the furthest table on the east side of the room, with stacks of book piled all around her, was a soundly asleep Aqua. The orange glow he saw before came from the small lamp sitting beside her just within hand’s reach.

A smile split across his face when he approached her. Her face was buried in an open book and she was holding a pencil in her hand, as if she was writing things down before falling asleep. He’d believe it too, what with all the papers scattered around the table that were full of extensive notes just from a cursory glance alone. It was honestly kinda adorable seeing her like this. He’d ponder on the question of what to do with her but asking himself that yet again would yield no answers.

Well, there was only one thing left for him to do. He slowly pulled her chair out, tensing up when it seemed she was stirring before relaxing. He set the pencil down beside a stack of books and carefully picked her up so as to not jostle her awake. This had practically become a routine at this point. Then he began the long trek of carrying her back to her room.

It wasn’t like this was his first time doing this sort of thing. If anything, he’s had to put her to bed more times than he could count lately. He didn’t mind helping her out every now and then but this was starting to turn into a problem. He hoped she wasn’t pushing herself too hard to the point of exhaustion. While her hardworking nature was a trait he greatly admired her for, it was a double-edged sword. He was worried that it’d lead her to an early grave if she didn’t slow down some.

There was little doubt in his mind she was running herself ragged. She trained and studied hard on a daily basis and that wasn’t even taking into account all the cooking, cleaning, and management of him she decided to put on her shoulders. She seemed more like a mother than a girl two years his junior. Just because she was his fellow apprentice didn’t mean she needed to bear so much responsibility. If only she'd take his words to heart instead of shrugging them off like she usually did.

They soon made it to her room. He opened the door and carefully maneuvered his way inside with her in his arms. There wasn’t much to remark on in here, aside from the organized tidiness of it all. It was something he always tried to strive for with his own room but he could never quite get on her level. He set her down on the bed, pulling the blanket up over her since it was around that time the weather cooled some. When it came time for him to leave, he left the room and shut the door but not before silently bidding her goodnight. If there was anything he wanted for her to have tonight, it was a restful night’s sleep.

Now what? Maybe it was perhaps a good idea to clean up her improvised office so it’d save her some time tomorrow. He knew her well enough to know she’d rush over to the library to do the exact same thing the moment she realized she woke up in bed and not there in her chair. It was the least he could do. With a weary sigh, he trudged back to the library, feeling that this was going to be a long night.

What if he became someone she wouldn’t need to look after anymore? Part of the reason why she didn’t put herself above others was because she was too busy taking care of everyone so it was up to him to lighten the load. If he could show her he’d be fine without her worrying, she might finally think of herself for once. The more he thought about it, the more right it felt. He was going to become a man who could be independent from her so she could get some well-needed rest. It was the best solution he had to this problem and he had to make it work.

Eventually, he was inside the library again and at her table. His first order of business was to put all the books back in their place, which meant taking apart the stacks, reading their titles, and searching the empty spots in the vast bookcases. Then the papers strewn about had to be organized and put somewhere she could easily see tomorrow. Oh, tonight was going to be a long night, indeed.

The first few books were easy to find and return. It was when he got to the more complicated ones he had to do a double-take because these were advanced. These were books he was absolutely positive they didn’t need to learn from but she certainly was, if her notes were anything to go by. Just flipping through the pages let him see how complex and intricate everything was for an apprentice to learn yet she made it seem so simple, so straightforward. He had to give Aqua major props for understanding all this since he sure as hell couldn’t.

Her intelligence was just one of her many amazing qualities. There was her strength, her kindness, her selflessness, her ambition, her determination, even her modesty, although he wished she’d realize the praise heaped upon her by both him and their master was rightfully earned instead of it being said for niceties’ sake. She was a person he was proud to call his friend and he had all the confidence to believe she’d be a superb Keyblade Master. Admiration didn’t come close to how he felt towards her yet it was a small step before falling into adoration.

He’s known for a while he’d developed feelings for her. It was hard to pinpoint when he became so enamored with her but the way he’s viewed her definitely changed the more they aged. She stopped being a friend a long time ago and was turning into a girl he may or may not have been falling in love with. Everything on that front was a mess of jumbled up knots that would take forever to unravel. His method of dealing with these was to express them quietly, convey them in a way she wouldn’t suspect there being something deeper. He had no idea of when or even if he’d confess because he wasn’t sure there’d ever be a right time.

Now definitely wasn’t the best time. They needed to focus on their exam and romance should be the last thing on either of their minds. Even the future didn’t seem certain, what with the choice they were supposed to make when they did surpass the rank of apprentice. One would stay and succeed their master while the other would travel to other worlds to protect them from invading Heartless. He didn’t go further down that depressing train of thought. He had plenty of time to decide on when would be good so he didn’t need to worry too much on it.

Maybe he could tell her when he became independent from her. The day she realized she wouldn’t have to look after him anymore, he’d tell her. That sounded right. It was still a far off dream but it was a dream he could see now.

He’d wait for that day, no matter how long it took. A part of him almost wanted to believe he was looking forward to it.

Terra ran inside the ravine, looking behind him to see if the Unversed would dare follow him in. The twisters carrying them still raged on outside and he hoped they’d stay out there. He kept his Keyblade trained at the entrance, ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice. He waited and waited till it became clear they weren’t in hot pursuit of him for him to dismiss his Keyblade, thanking whatever higher power there was for the brief respite.

The only relatively safe place he had was further inside the ravine. He began walking, running a hand alongside the wall to help keep himself steady as the world spun around him and his body ached. It was about halfway through he collapsed from the exhaustion, falling to his knees while struggling to breathe. He needed to take a break. If he went into battle like this, he would surely lose. He shifted himself into a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall, closing his eyes.

How did it all end up like this? The dream he worked so hard to achieve, his lifelong dream of becoming a Keyblade Master, slipped from his grasp just when he thought he could reach it. Ven, the boy he saw as a little brother, the friend he swore to protect, was being hunted down by an entity who meant him harm and would stop at nothing to ensure his demise. Aqua would want nothing to do with him after she found out what had happened and he wouldn’t blame her for washing her hands of him. That was if she hadn’t done so already. Then their master, the man they all saw and looked up to as a father figure, he…

His eyes burned with tears threatening to spill over. He never hated Eraqus, they may have argued at times but he never hated him. He took him, Aqua, and Ven in, raised them as if they were his own, and only wanted what was best for them. Sure, he wasn’t perfect but what parent was? He may have fought him and Ven earlier but he showed genuine regret and wanted to make amends to them both. Terra didn’t want to hurt him, he was just trying to protect his friend, so why? Why did he have to die? He didn’t deserve such a fate, especially one dealt to him by his apprentice and former friend’s hand. If only he could rewind time and try to reason with him, try to undo his death so they wouldn’t have the grief of losing him weighing on their minds. Yet he had no such power so it became another sin he put on his cross to bear.

How was he going to explain what happened to Ven? The last time they saw each other was when he cast him out the portal before fighting with their master. He was still alive, that much Terra knew, but he didn’t know where he ended up at. The one thing he had to know, though, was why Ven was willing to die by Eraqus’ hand. It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong so why? He didn’t understand what his friend’s death would accomplish, not like he wanted to if it did at any rate. When he eventually learned of the aftermath of that fight, Terra worried it might break him, if everything up to this point hadn’t already. A part of him almost believed Ven would revert back to the despondent boy he was when they first met and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from that. It was a miracle he did over the past four years but this time…

Then there was Aqua. With how he managed to royally screw things up with her, he had no one but himself to blame. He treated her so awfully, from the hearing of their exam results to their short-lived reunion in Radiant Garden. His first mistake was breaking his promise to her, which was to support her in the event she was the only one to pass and become Master, and she must’ve felt so horrible about it. It wasn’t that he was angry at her for passing, he was just upset at the whole situation that it buried the happiness he felt for her at finally achieving her dream. Then he lashed out at her after it came out she was sent by their master to watch over him to make sure he didn’t succumb to the temptation of darkness. It hurt enough to think Eraqus didn’t trust him but to believe she didn’t, either? Yet they were right. He was led astray so easily and they were all suffering for the consequences of his actions now.

Everything, all of it, was his fault. If he wasn’t so trusting, if he just asked the right questions, if he wasn’t so weak, none of this would’ve happened. Xehanort preyed on his insecurities, attempted to turn him against his friends, and used him to kill the man he considered his father. Now he was going to destroy what was left of his family, along with Vanitas, and he didn’t know what to do. He only knew how to fight but would it be enough to save them? Or would it lead them all to their deaths? All he wanted was to go back to the night he, Aqua, and Ven shared under the starry sky back home, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that would befall them. Was that too much to ask?

Tears slid down his cheeks as he teetered on the edge of despair. Everything was just so twisted, so hopeless. What chance did the three of them have against a seasoned Keyblade Master and his loyal guard dogs? They might as well have been heading straight to their deaths with all the worlds falling into darkness as their consolation prize in this battle disguised as a cruel game. He was scared to die, scared of death and whether an afterlife really existed after passing on from one plane to the next. He didn’t want to die but it came for everyone at the end, regardless of their desires.

Well, if he was going to die anyway, he’ll go out protecting his friends. This was his mess to clean up so he should be the one to fix it. Besides, this might be the only way for him to atone for his sins, right the wrongs he made. If Aqua and Ven could live out the rest of their days free from any danger that would harm them, then he’d face his death with dignity.

With his energy replenished, he stood up and looked towards the exit. He hadn’t been this far into the Badlands so he had no idea of what awaited him at the other end of the ravine. He walked on and on till he came out and stopped. The sight that laid before him rendered him speechless.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Keyblades stuck up out of the ground like markers and something resembling a crossroads cut through all of them. It was then he realized what this place truly was. This was where thousands of Keyblade wielders fought against each other in order to summon Kingdom Hearts, the conflict better known as the Great Keyblade War. These Keyblades represented, or what was left of, the people that fell in the battle, where they would rest for all eternity. How fitting then it was to die here at this scarred wasteland of a graveyard among the warriors of old. Would he meet the same fate as his predecessors did all those years ago?

At the eastern end of the crossroads was Aqua. Their eyes met and hers held a quiet fury in them he had never seen before. They both walked down the paths ahead of them till they reached the intersection, where he could see her clearly now. There were healing cuts and bruises all across her body, no doubt from the countless battles she faced while on her journey, and there was a hidden sadness behind the anger. She knew and nothing he could say or do would make it all right. He was fully prepared for the emotional lashing her words would deliver unto him.

She didn’t disappoint, laying into him all the pain and misery he brought to her, culminating in her placing blame of their master’s death onto his shoulders. She was particularly close to him so the news had to have hit her hard. Her eyes glistened with tears as he stayed silent and she demanded answers from him, almost begging him to say anything to defend himself. It hurt to hear her voice waver, knowing she was trying and failing to hold back the emotion. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved so much better than this. What kind of man was he, to cause the woman he loved so much pain and not be able to fix it?

Ven appeared at the southern end of the crossroads. Soon as they both saw him, they exchanged a look and approached him. It was like an unspoken rule that, whatever was happening between them, it came second to Ven. He was their top priority and nothing could be any more important than him. That was the one thing they could agree on unanimously. He seemed just as tired as they were, though it was clear something was weighing heavily on him, evident by how he couldn’t look at them at all. Concern gave way to dread when he told them the reason behind his woe.

He and Vanitas were to fuse together and create the X-blade so that Xehanort could use it to summon Kingdom Hearts and reset the universe. He wanted there to be a balance between Light and Dark, which this supposed reset would bring. That’s why Ven was willing to die by Eraqus’ hand. His death would foil Xehanort’s plan and potentially take out Vanitas along with him. Terra felt time stop when Ven asked him and Aqua to end him. How could he ask such a thing from him? He already lost their master, he couldn’t bear to lose what was left of his family.

Before any more could be said, they were at the northern end. Xehanort, Vanitas, and that man he fought back in Radiant Garden. It seemed like an evenly numbered match but power had to be wildly scaled between the six of them. The final battle was here, Light vs Dark, the victor left up to chance. He, Aqua, and Ven all summoned their Keyblades and rushed in.

His target was Xehanort, the mastermind behind everything. There was no way in hell he was going to let him get away with his crimes. He manipulated him to do his bidding, killed the man that was once a former friend to him, and would kill his loved ones if he didn’t stop him here. He swore he’d protect them till the very end, to his last breath, and he planned on upholding that vow.

He would set things right.

Terra’s eyes fluttered open to rays of light filtering through the curtains of the window, telling him it was early morning. He was on a bed, soft one at that, in a room he didn’t recognize slowly becoming bathed in sunlight. The room was like any others he’d been in before. Where was he?

Only once it sank in did he begin to panic. He was in an unfamiliar room and he was out for what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t let this rare opportunity go to waste, he needed to reach out to someone for help before Xehanort attempted to shut him inside that place again. It didn’t matter who, it just had to be someone who’d listen to him and not think he was crazy. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t. There were two weights on either side of him keeping him trapped there on the bed. Did Xehanort count for something like this happening and put measures in place so he couldn’t wander around freely? Whatever the case may be, he had to break out while he still had the chance and find help.

It was then the memories of yesterday started to come to him. There was a big battle between Darkness and Light and those on the side of Light won. His heart was freed, the man possessing his body had been driven out, and he was reunited with his two dear friends. He looked down, as if to confirm that what happened did happen, and saw Aqua and Ven soundly asleep beside him. The anxiety that had seized him vanished, becoming replaced with relief and an exhausted sort of happiness he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

It was liberating to be back in control of his body and his life. No voice in his head, no feeling like a passenger as someone else piloted him, he was himself again for the first time in forever. No longer would he worry if he was allowed to be out or if it was another one of Xehanort’s psychological games of war. No more losing fights for control as more and more of his identity was stripped away. He was Terra, he reclaimed himself, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him again.

A soft smile spread across his face as he watched them sleep. His grip on them tightened ever so slightly, thankful to be able to bask in this moment. They saved him, even when they were knocked down over and over, almost dying in the process. They all fought so hard to reach each other and their efforts were rewarded with a tearful yet happy reunion. He’d cherish that memory till the end of time. He almost lost them once and he’ll be damned if anything ever came between them again.

They had lots of work ahead of them. An entire decade passed them by in ways no one should ever have to experience. While he was vaguely aware of the passage of time during his drifts in and out of consciousness, it still felt like only days since everything in their journeys happened. All they had were fragments of the lives they led, of worlds left forgotten, to help them start anew.

Ven might have the easiest time adjusting to the changes. He spent those eleven years sleeping in the Land of Departure, though that wasn’t quite right. His body stayed safe at home while his heart slumbered within another. He was never in the line of danger, Aqua made sure of that. He befriended lots of people during his trip around the worlds so they were certain to be of big help to him. It’d be hard but he’d adapt quickly, Terra just knew it.

Speaking of which, he might have a more difficult time. Pieces of him were scattered across different forms throughout the years so he needed to relearn what being himself was like again. Parts of what made him Terra had changed so much from how they were before, they could no longer apply to him now. He was, in some ways, a new person and he would never be the same man he was. He was going to be doing lots of soul-searching in the foreseeable future. His only hope was that he would like the person at the end of the tunnel.

Then there was Aqua. She definitely had it the roughest out of them all and for very good reason. She traversed through the Realm of Darkness, fighting for her life while struggling to keep her inner demons at bay. She was only there in the first place because she sacrificed herself for him, which he planned on speaking to her about at some point in the near future. They met only the one time last year and their reunion was cut short by Xehanort seizing his chance to continue on with the creation of the X-blade. She needed to learn she’d be safe, that nothing would come and kill her if she wasn’t vigilant enough and whatnot. Her time in that hellish wasteland left her with deep-seated scars she may never fully heal from. He and Ven would help her with whatever she needed, whether it be supporting her at every step of the way or by simply listening to her. She wouldn’t go through this alone.

None of them came out unscathed by their ordeals. Although it would take them some time to truly recover, both physically and mentally, it really helped to know they weren’t alone in this. They still did and always would have each other but they now had their newly-found friends to lean on for support whenever they needed it. It was kinda hard for him to wrap his head around just how many people would be there for them, especially him. Their master was gone now but there was no doubt in his mind he’d still watch over his apprentices from wherever he went. Their new life might be scary yet it already looked so bright.

His eyes wandered over to Aqua again. He wanted to set things right with her, especially after all the pain he caused her. An apology for breaking his promise was the first step in the right direction. Then he was going to become someone she wouldn’t feel the need to look after anymore. It was because of him she ended up in the Realm of Darkness so he thought it’d be only fair to help her focus on herself for a change. She was a Master now and he was planning on catching up to her as soon as he could. That was a promise he intended to keep.

When was he going to tell her? He originally wanted to do it when he became independent from her but his time away from people had taught him some important life lessons to remember. Loved ones were here only as long as they needed to be and time spent with them should never be taken for granted, like he had with Eraqus. He didn’t want to leave things unsaid between them, in the event that something happened and he was left unable to say what he wanted. They weren’t ready for that sort of relationship yet so he’d keep his cards close to his chest for just a little longer. Once they were in a better place and had worked through some of their issues, then he’d confess. Who knows if she’d return them?

He couldn’t quite pin down when his feelings for her deepened into what they were now. He only really realized it when they were in the Keyblade Graveyard before their paths split apart so it was hard to say. What he did know, however, was that she became such an irreplaceable constant in his life. She was someone he confided in, someone who always thought the better of him, a light in the darkness that plagued him. She was his anchor, his dearly beloved. She became his Wayfinder, guiding him until he was back home to her and Ven.

The whisper of three little words broke through the silence. He wasn’t able to admit it to himself back then but he now had a voice to vocalize them with. He hoped his feelings would reach her heart.

“I love you.”

#airi's writing #terraqua #fanfiction #kingdom hearts #canon divergence

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