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captainsimagines · 4 years

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Titanic || H.S

Part Five || “No Me Queda Mas”

Disclaimer: I do not own the pictures I use for title cards. Obviously.

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

“Exactly. But if you jump, I’m gonna have to jump in there after you.“

Both Harry and Drake were up by seven in the morning, energetic and absolutely starving. They made sure to dress as quietly as they could, careful not to wake their other two roommates. They were men of the same age, around their late twenties, heading to the states to escape religious persecution. They had arrived later that day after they had picked up the remaining passengers from Ireland, both men talkative and equally as excited to start a new life. The four men chatted into the deep hours of the night and discussed a variety of topics. Perhaps the funnest topic they covered was women.

The two men were traveling with their girlfriends and since they were not legally married, they had to bunk in separate living quarters. Except their boyfriends had splurged what money they could to give them the best comfort as possible, and Harry learned their girlfriends were staying as second-class passengers. Drake made the joke about how first and second class weren’t all that different, and that these boys were living every poor man’s dream of being with a woman of practical royalty.

“They scream louder than any woman.”

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned.

“I mean,” Drake nudged his shoulder playfully, “they’re so touch-deprived that they practically melt from any man’s touch.”

“Man, shut the hell up!”

Everyone continued to joke and tease, and Harry wondered if that was indeed true. He had only been with two other women before - his first when he was seventeen and a woman he thought he loved at the age of twenty-four. He prided himself on the noises he caused, but he didn’t quite understand what Drake meant. Did upper-class women really not experience pleasure as often as women in love? Did upper-class women even fall in love? Do upper-class men not know how to perform? He understood the point of the joke, and although slightly misogynistic, Harry pondered on the societal gossip that sometimes proved true. It wasn’t like he was ever going to experience it to compare.

He and Drake tip-toed outside their room and locked it behind them. Breakfast was available until ten, but they wanted first dibs on the freshest stuff there.

It was a buffet style breakfast. They stacked their trays up high, first come - first serve, with buttered bread, sugar cookies, chicken noodle soup, and milk.

“They’re holding out on us. I saw them lugging buckets of grapes and strawberries up to first-class.”

Harry chuckled and sipped his milk, “Because they’re first-class.”

“Either way, this bread is delicious.”

And over breakfast they chatted about their past trips, skills, family, and aspirations. If it was possible, Drake spoke more than Harry. Once a conversation reached its end, Drake would easily glide into a new one. It was quite refreshing to speak to someone who didn’t shut you down or didn’t know how to carry a conversation. Harry paused Drake, however, when he mentioned that he was a trained carpenter.

“You build things?”

“Buildings. I build buildings.”

Harry shoved him, “That’s what I meant!”

Drake laughed along, “Yeah, my father was a carpenter. I built my Montana ranch from the ground up with my own two hands.”

Harry felt like meeting Drake was fate. Now he didn’t have to grovel and beg some New York carpenter to oversee the construction of a London business. If Drake agreed to help Harry build his bakery, he would at least trust the process more. A few sips of soup and some sugar cookies later and Harry considered Drake a closer friend than those he met on the playground.

“I have a proposition.”

“Well, Mr. Capitalist, I’m all ears.”

Harry grinned, “Would you like to help me build my family’s bakery? I would pay you generously and provide you housing during your extended stay in New York.”

Drake mimicked the act of deep thought, leaning forward and swishing around his cup of milk. “Hmm, a generous offer.”

“Or do you have to be back in Montana immediately?”

Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t.

“My brother has the ranch covered. I can write to him and let him know I’ll be bringing in a little extra cash.”

Harry jumped in his seat like an excited child, “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Drake chuckled and tried not to spill his milk as Harry shook his shoulders excitedly.

Drake was around five years older than Harry, thirty-two and thriving, so it made sense that he had this feeling of being an older brother to Harry. He was actually the youngest of his siblings, having older brothers at his side since birth. It was a blessing, and in a weird twist of plot, he felt like an attentive older brother sat here at breakfast. The way Harry’s bright smile lit up any room and the way he acted as if everything happened for a reason - he was almost tempted to give this kid the rest of his sugar cookies.

“Sure, man. I trust you’ll pay me.”

Harry nodded and while overflowing with joy, he slid his sketchbook in front of Drake and began reviewing the first couple sketches of the type of building he had in mind.

You had been kept up late by your mother’s final walk-through of your stay room, complaining there were not enough towels and not enough space for your accessories on the bedside table. She acknowledged the vastness of the ship and its wonderful hospitality, but there was always something wrong in her mind. And all you could do was nod your head as you sat impatiently in the side chair as she worked the midnight crew through each fix.

So excuse your slow responses and tiny yawns at breakfast. The tables were beginning to clear out, with many still entering for early tea or a late meal. The breeze passed through the open doors and nipped at your cheeks, waking you up slightly from the boring chatter.

As the others spoke, you couldn’t help but think about yesterday and what weird a kiss you and Cal had shared. Was it supposed to feel good? You knew Cal had other women before as he was turning thirty-six just a week after your scheduled wedding. He was never so playful, especially not in front of waiting staff, so you pondered what that change in attitude could possibly mean. Or perhaps you were thinking too much, and he really just had a lapse in judgement.

You could make out talk about the weather, America’s current stock market, and ideas about what the cooks were going to prepare later today. Speak on topics that never interested you and never will interest you carried on for a few more minutes before everyone began ordering their second course. You pulled a cigarette and its holder from your handbag, expertly placed the cigarette inside the silver and inhaled the cooled, mellowed smoke. It woke you up instantly, also calming any nerves from the night before.

You didn’t like when Cal smoked and dusted your flooring, but the presence of a holder made all the difference. No mess, no stains on your fingers - just tranquility.

Your mother cleared her throat quietly as to only alert you, watching the other occupants of your table carry on with their conversation. She unfolded her napkin and placed it carefully across her lap. “You know I don’t like when you do that in public.”

Instead of rolling your eyes at her absurd worry, you inhaled the smoke deeply and exhaled across her view, clouding her face in your personal stress release. It was a power move, a move that you were allowed to execute since she was in control of literally every other aspect of your life. A little smoke shouldn’t anger her as much as it did, but any ounce of independence you still displayed could be interpreted as plain disobedience. And disobedience of your own family meant it resulted in disobedience within a marriage. But before you could establish dominance in one area of your life - your own body - Cal reached over to pull the cigarette from its holder and extinguished it on one of the side plates. You narrowed your eyes, ashamed of the control he proved he had.

“She knows,” Cal chuckled, ignoring your look of embarrassment and instead calling over the waiter who was making his rounds.

A woman you had met briefly yesterday as she boarded from Ireland, Molly, was invited to sit at your breakfast table by one of the men here, yet you couldn’t remember which one. She was a small woman, dressed in a comfortable dress that didn’t quite match the occasion of a late breakfast, but she wore it proudly. She was sweet, strong-willed, and almost always proved louder than anyone else in the room. You liked her personality as it was entirely different from everyone else you had ever met. Although your mother called her “new money” with a nasty grimace on her face, you only saw her for what she was - independent and vocal.

But here you were now, being dehumanized in front of practical strangers, and you looked up to see Molly’s surprised expression. She lowered her arm to extinguish her own cigarette on her ashtray. To continue smoking freely after you had been refused your tiny refuge seemed wrong, improper even. But you didn’t acknowledge her action, ears perking up as Cal restated your breakfast order.

“We’ll both have the lamb, rare, with very little mint sauce.”

You absolutely hated lamb. Any type of meat, really, and the thought of having to stuff it down so you wouldn’t starve maddened you.

“You like lamb, right Sweetpea?”

You plastered a thin, wide smile as you turned to your fiancé, your face almost comical and proving so as Cal took it as a real ‘yes’.

By now your little squabble had gained attention from all at your table. Molly began laughing loudly to cut through the tension, raising her water glass to take a quick sip.

“You gonna cut and chew her meat there too, huh Cal?”

Your mother turned to her sharply but Molly was unmoved, deciding to change the subject to something more interesting. Cal interlocked his fingers together and rested his hands above his belt buckle, looking across the table at Molly with a more calm look compared to your mother, but still hardened with displeasure.

“Say, who thought of the name ‘Titanic’? Was it you, Bruce?” Molly asked.

Bruce Ismay, the chairman of the White Star Line, seemed ecstatic to receive questions about the ship. As of that month, it was his greatest accomplishment and current world wonder, his newborn creation that deserved any and all praise given. He nodded happily and swallowed the piece of fruit hurriedly to answer Molly’s question.

“Yes, yes,” he answered, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. “Mr. Andrews here built her from the ground up!”

Thomas Andrews, a shipbuilder and main architect for Titanic, was shy with any compliment he received, deciding to accept the praise quickly and return the attention back to Ismay. “But the idea was all Mr. Ismay’s! He envisioned a liner so grand in scale...”

You began to drown the conversation out. Cal insisted on dining with specific groups of people. From your point of view, it worked almost like a ranking. Ismay and Andrews were certainly important people on this ship and had first hand experience with such social circles, but they were no John Jacob Astor. The most Cal and your mother did was share morning greetings with Astor, who dined with his wife in a more private section of the same dining hall. Cal had always maintained your titles of royalty, saying that only a few dollars here and there separated you from a higher connection. And at dinner time your group expanded, including around ten others who were just as respectable.

“I wanted to convey sheer size with her name! And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength,” Ismay spoke.

You sucked in a low breath, ready to make a select few laugh and others seethe. “Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?”

Mr. Ismay turned to you in silent astonishment, surprised by the first complete sentence you had spoken all breakfast. But he smiled and shook his head ‘no’ at the name. You felt your mother reach her hand under the table to cup your arm.

“His opinion about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you.”

Your mother’s fingernails dug deep into your forearm. “What has gotten into you?”

But Molly and Mr. Andrews enjoyed your comment, laughing under their breaths.

You smiled sweetly and tore your arm away from your mother, standing and excusing yourself from the table. Both Mr. Ismay and Mr. Andrews stood out of respect for your departure. You exited the room to walk out on deck.

Cal took in slow breaths to steady his rising anger, avoiding other’s eyes so that they wouldn’t notice the effect you had on him. But Molly, with her rapid wit and steady toughness, wouldn’t let Cal live this down.

“She’s a pistol, Cal. Hope you can handle her!”

Cal crinkled his eyes and chuckled as to brush off your misbehavior. “I might just have to mind what she reads from now on, don’t I?”

Mr. Ismay sat down and readjusted his tie. “Freud, who is he? Is he a passenger?”

It was bullshit that third-class passengers were barred from touring certain areas of the ship. All Harry wanted was a better view of the ship’s structure so he could outline it. He mainly drew portraits but he had promised his mother he would show her his drawings of the best parts of the ship, like the grand staircase, fashion, the giant steam funnels, even the food. But third-class passengers weren’t allowed in first-class areas without the proper approval, having to eat from a choice of about four foods each day and reduced to simply imagining what the giant clock looked like.

So Harry doodled anything he found interesting - the dogs who traveled down to third-class to take a shit, the coast of Ireland as Titanic sailed past, and third-class passengers with their children, card games, and instruments. He was currently drawing a man holding his daughter up against the railing to see the water, focusing on the detail of their clothing and their happy expressions. Drake watched Harry work his magic, grinning every single time Harry drew the next precise detail accurately. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge, but Drake swore that every human wanted to have this specific talent. Anyone who disagreed wasn’t human.

“I can’t believe you got the eyes right,” Drake scoffed, inhaling smoke from his reduced cigarette.

Harry grinned at the comment, smudging the charcoal over the two foreheads to create the shading. Looking from the models to his paper, he completed another detail that impressed his friend. He was almost finished, brushing his index finger over certain parts. Drake greeted some friends he met at last night’s dinner as they walked past and rested in the surrounding benches. He motioned them over to Harry’s work.

Drake nodded in approval at all the compliments Harry received, “Do you make any money off your drawings?”

It’s quite possibly every artist’s worst nightmare, to scribble incorrectly over a good drawing, completely ruining the fine detail it took too long to accomplish. But as Harry’s pencil scraped over that crumpled piece of paper, the air around him and the water under him spoke to his artistic desires, telling him to wreak havoc on his flimsy sheet and to never stop. The somewhat endless black line did indeed stop once it reached the edge and to the fabric of his tan pants, leaving a light but visible charcoal mesh on his only pair. His eyes, as well as his clouded mind, ignored his major mistake and instead focused on the yellow fabric that begged to flap higher in the cool, ocean breeze.

His eyes traveled through every detail- the white lace clinging to the base yellow, the pearls hugging your waistline and wrapping around your backside to function as buttons, the baroque beauty of your neck and the lace wrapped around it, your brown skin glistening underneath the sun, and your red lips sculpted into a memorable pout - all of it entered Harry’s viewpoint in what seemed like forever but only took a mere second. One glorious second for Harry to stumble into a world he knew he could never abandon. The curl in your hair, the frown on your face, the gentle nature of your grip on the forbidden first-class railing - all of it a disastrous craving that would for sure develop into a blister on the lip if Harry didn’t get a smell of your lavish locks and accidentally brush the tip of his nose against the priceless diamonds draped through each curl, or get a taste of the red syrup staining your plump lips and accidentally bite it a little too hard to muster a moan of pleasure rich women kill to produce, or get to feel the touch of your fingertips against his palms, his face, his chest, his back as you left streaks of bright red. These prohibited images knocked against the padded confines of his thick skull and he felt like he completely violated the law with such an absurd idea.

But as you furrowed your eyebrows and focused on another focal point - Harry himself - he felt as if every inch of your being was worth being imprisoned for. His forbidden sweet creature.

You stared at the stranger briefly before looking back at the waves beyond the bow of the ship. Yet, you continued to feel his powerful gaze. You didn’t feel uncomfortable with his locked stare, but you wondered if he was possessed, spiraling through a trance that you had become a victim of. Was his gaze good or bad? Was he seriously entranced or judging your physique? Walking away would break the spell, but you stayed glued to the railing for some reason, watching the waves make way for Titanic’s many entrances.

You heard the voice in your head instruct your view to stay on the water, but you disobeyed for once, unaware of such a lovely decision until you locked eyes with your third-class admirer. You have always gotten attention from anyone you encountered, both pleasant and unpleasant, but attention nonetheless. And the waves of this particular admiration traveled through the misty breeze and onto your blushed cheeks, pinching them with a silent yelp, a plea, an almost beggarly request for your consideration. So you obliged its want, gazing across the third-class gatherings to the man sitting on one of the few benches on deck, surrounded by confused and teasing passengers who looked between you and him, wondering if you were going to break first from the rare situation. A situation that many never considered legitimate, possible, or even appropriate. But the lot of you were on the blue waves and the bubbly foam and the impressive craft of a thousand good Irishmen that welcomed the rare and extraordinary.

He was attractive - his short hair dancing in the air one curl at a time, his broad form rising to sit up straight when he realized you were also admiring him, and his eyes never blinking as to not miss anything you might do. And he had this magnetic pull, almost as if he was screaming at you to come down and speak with him. You felt somewhat disgusted with yourself, imagining a normal conversation with a normal person, a very handsome person, whose gaze alone made you feel a tingle at your fingertips and caused a tiny grin to break on your face. It wasn’t appropriate to be thinking of another man this way when you had never felt this way for the man you were to marry. And yesterday’s kiss did not equate to the powerful senses you were currently experiencing.

You hoped he didn’t see your grin, but Harry did. He caught it instantly, his heart pounding and his hands instructing him to quickly sketch the curve.

By now Drake was waving a hand over Harry’s face to see if that broke off his view, but Harry simply leaned forward, unaware of the obstruction and oh so enchanted by that tiny grin you hadn’t dropped.

“Oh, forget it, Harry! It’s like angels flying out your ass to get next to the likes of her.”

To be seen, thought of, recognized as a human being and not glossed over as some extra - the recognition of plain existence excited you to new extremes. And just as your mind told you to unlock the first-class gate and venture over to your admirer, real life interrupted in the form of Cal’s tamed grip on your upper arm.

You dropped your gaze quickly, hoping Cal did not realize your original viewpoint, and looked down at the unwanted physical connection between you.

"Why must you defy your mother’s orders and misbehave in front of friends?”

You pulled yourself away from his tightening grip. “I have already received this lecture from my own mother. I do not need to hear it again.”

Cal let out a low chuckle, “Then why must you not listen? You embarrassed me.”

You fought the urge to yell and relay yet another disapproving tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m not feeling well this morning.”

And with that fake apology, Cal hummed in sympathy and tugged you in for a short hug. “Why didn’t you just say so? It could have saved us the humiliation.”

You sucked in a harsh breath at his choice of words to avoid the frustrated tears, pulling away and patting his chest as you excused yourself to your stay room. He groaned as he suspected he had done something else wrong, but did not dare to follow you this time.

Drake shook his head in discontent, “A man like that should be grateful to have a woman like her.”

Other passengers shared their agreement, whistling and all. They teased Harry and shoved him playfully, congratulating him for the impossible. And as you walked from Harry’s eyesight back into the ship, he rejoined the conversation briefly before he began a simple illustration of your eyes.

Drake sat back down on the same bench as Harry as all the chatter died down, looking over at Harry’s paper. He rolled his eyes and smiled.

“She really did a number on you, huh? I’m all for going after the unreachable but this is truly unreachable, boy-yo.”

Harry stopped his tracing to look up at Drake, “I know… but she saw me, too.”

Drake furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if Harry was simply awestruck or serious. And with a slight chuckle of disbelief, Drake muttered, “that she did.”

A moment passed before Drake spoke again, deciding on letting Harry live in his little fantasy for the rest of the day. He tapped Harry’s stack of papers with his index finger. “I’m sure you’ll do her justice.”

And Harry did.

If you stood in the middle of the room and screamed at the top of your lungs, you were certain no one would even look up. Because besides your impressive attitude you were known for, your problems seemed minuscule compared to others. No one seemed to piece together why you were the way you were, opting for society’s sexist explanations instead of simply asking you.

Just a few hours ago you were seen and not looked over quickly - you felt appreciated and noticed. Now, even in a room with hundreds of people and many sat at the same table as you, you weren’t even acknowledged. Perhaps it was because you never spoke - you couldn’t blame them for not noticing you then. But then again, when you did speak and Cal silenced or interrupted you, discrediting even opinions, no one minded.

They were the same endless parties, the same narrow people, and the same mindless chatter. Like they flipped a switch each night and wiped their slate clean, ready for the same routine the very next day with no complaints at all. And it frightened you that this would remain your routine, the same routine you had already lived for twenty-two years, with no way out and no ‘off’ button.

You felt as if you were floating away, heavy and lightweight at the same time, feeling yourself blink every few minutes. Your eyes focused on one point - the ashtray in the middle of the rounded table, even as people from surrounding tables came to greet your mother and Cal. You kept track of time by the impressive height of the gray ash, some landing outside the tray and onto plates. It grew higher… and higher… and your food was barely picked at, Cal was reaching over you every so often to tap his cigarette on the tray, and your mother was on her fourth glass of champagne.

They didn’t see that you weren’t eating. How does someone not notice that someone isn’t eating at a dinner?

You reached over for your champagne glass, your hand shaking slightly as you downed the rest of it. Everyone’s voices were becoming silent, like you were covering both ears or going deaf, and as Cal reached over to give you a kiss on the cheek, your eyes were suddenly heavy.

“Please, excuse me, Cal. I need to run to our room really quickly.”

Cal paused his conversation with Astor to turn to you. “Are you alright? Would you like me to escort you to the cabin?”

And you smiled, “I’ll be fine.”

It was a really nice gesture, but in Cal’s mind it was simple chivalry.

You stood up, your feet sore and the nerves bunching together throughout your legs. The laughter seemed to grow as you exited, and now those nerves shocked you into running.

You barged into your stay room, ignoring the obvious worry the staff gave you, their questions of tea or more blankets flying over your head. You simply speed-walked past them, hiding your face behind your curls so they would not see your very real tears, staining the powder on your cheeks and leaving visible streaks lighter than your natural color. You leaned back on the door and tried to drown out the drunken laughs and loud violins. Controlling your breathing was easy at first until you opened your eyes and saw a mass explosion of gold, the intricate designs of each piece of cloth, the carvings in the wood encasing your mirror, your freshly made bed that Cal had jokingly suggested he’d crawl into late at night. You swallowed the itch in your throat, walking to the make-up table to drop the pins you began tearing from your hair. One-by-one you let each curl fall to your shoulder, their lost weight causing your headband of diamonds to fall to the floor. You silently deliberated what the name of your maid was, cursing yourself for forgetting when she had so nicely introduced herself last night. But then her name slid from your tongue, and you almost cried from the sudden joy.

“Trudy?” you called, starting to hyperventilate. “Trudy?”

You reached behind you to unbutton your dress, but your shoulders just wouldn’t bend far enough. Suffocated, you clawed at the loose hanging jewels instead, pinching and stretching the skin on your back that you could reach.

“Trudy!” you began to choke on your breath, yelling louder each time you called the maid. So you tugged and ripped the silver necklace from your neck, threw your jewelry box across the room, and tossed a few perfume bottles you had packed so delicately against the wall.

“I can’t... I can’t,” you cried, knees partially crumbling beneath you as you leaned against the chair. You lifted your head to witness your disheveled look, hair a mess and mascara smudged just below your water line. Lips quivering, an intense wave of self-pity and self-hatred drowning your thoughts, exclaiming the few words that actually made it through your sore skull. You listened to them, repeated and mean, basically ordering you to listen and to follow.

“Ya no queda mas.”

There is nothing left.

You were indeed a follower - and you were going to oblige.

And so you abandoned everything, opening your room door and running through the crowded hallway full of oblivious passengers who swam in the bliss of a full stomach and buzzed fingertips and toes.

You ran across the deck to the stern of the ship, careless as to who or what you toppled along the way. Of course everyone took an interest, calling out to see if you needed assistance. But as you left their eyesight, their worry diminished and they assumed someone else would offer a hand. One right after the other, they allowed you to cross their paths and leave it in an instant.

Harry lay on a third-class bench, staring up at the starry night. With a cigarette in one hand and the other stuffed away warmly in his coat pocket, he wondered just exactly where in the hell that damn ‘Big Dipper’ was. Or the little one. Hell, any constellation for that matter. He loved watching the night sky, but the city smog hid most of the stars. Now, with only the steam from the funnels blocking his view, he focused on every star individually, losing track of them as time passed, each one beginning to look the same in size but different in brightness. They formed all kinds of shapes in Harry’s mind, but he could not find those documented ones the astronomers raved on about.

He could have sworn he saw the rectangular shape slightly, its handle coming into existence as the sound of sobbing arrived and left in a flash. He lifted himself up, cigarette hanging from his pink lips and eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He watched as you continued running, pausing to catch your breath at one of the benches.

He recognized that beautiful brown skin anywhere.

His feet hit the deck floor immediately once he saw that you weren’t stopping, instead walking towards the stern railing and looking over into the water. He jogged lightly, careful not to make much noise as you contemplated such a drastic decision. Perhaps you were going to change your mind, step away, take a deep breath and go back to your endless desserts and musical concerts. But he quickly hid behind a pole when you checked to see if anyone had followed you, slightly disappointed in the fact that no one did, and stepped onto the railing and swung a leg over.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, his mind racing and thinking of a way to calmly and safely get you back onto the deck without frightening you. If he were to jump out now, you were for sure going to let go.

You turned around once more and back toward the water, this small gesture of goodbye to the ship and all on it finally settling within you. The waves were dark, not light blue like they were during the daytime. And they sounded louder and more angry, taunting you instead of offering tranquility. The thought of jumping when the sun was out danced around in your head, a more vibrant suicide seeming better suited for your needs.

But maybe you deserved to die in the dark with no other sound besides the unnerving crashing of water and massive propellers in a never ending motion of slicing. You thought about Cal and almost immediately recoiled, the last thought before you died an unhappy thought and not at all what you wanted it to be. Perhaps your mother or your father. Trudy. No one seemed to properly fit, so you settled on the image of your famed racehorse as you leaned away from the railing, hanging off and ready to fall. Your racehorse, dark brown and majestic, waiting for you to come home.

“Don’t do it.”

You gripped the railing tight, unaware that your initial hold was so loose, and you were moments away from leaving your misery behind.

You whipped your head to see who had followed you, stunned that this person was not from the first-class - the class that prides themselves on their selflessness and courage. He was from the third - the class that truly embodied all things selfless and are crucified for it.

“Stay back,” you begged, raising one hand up as if to physically stop him, but you quickly regretted it as you felt the tough winds push you ever so slightly. “Please don’t come near me.”

Harry contemplated his next move, inhaling some final smoke from his cigarette and stepped closer. He showed you the cigarette, stepping towards the railing to throw it overboard.

It was smart, you thought. He was going to come closer, you knew that. But to do it so discreetly as to not scare you - you were kind of grateful.

“Please just leave me alone,” you sobbed, looking back down to the rushing water. “I’ll let go.”

Harry stood dumbfounded, hands in his pockets and worry etched into his face. He remained calm, however, trusting in himself to sweet talk you back over the railing.

He cleared his throat, “No, you won’t.”

You scoffed, newly formed tears threatening to leave your eyes. “What?”

“You won’t do it.”

This time you looked up to the starry sky to gain clearance in thought but were intrigued nonetheless. Either you could snap at him and jump, or you could listen and come back over the railing. All you wanted to do now was sleep, as your head began feeling heavier by the second.

“What are you going on about? Don’t presume to tell me what I will or will not do! You don’t know me.”

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, still trying to calm the situation down as easily as he could. But as your hands turned whiter as your grip strengthened and your voice began to crack, Harry knew he had to convince you this was not the answer.

He didn’t quite understand it - wanting to end your life at such a young age. By the look of your clothes and make-up, Harry could tell you had most material things the people in third-class would kill for. But there were sparkly tears on your waterline, contradicting the image of glory and wealth you so effortlessly portrayed, and the sounds of crashing waves waiting to gobble you up - the sense of you, the mere idea of that glory and wealth, - it absolutely bombarded any quick wit or joke Harry’s mouth was thinking of spitting. All rational from here on out.

“I’m sorry,” Harry spoke, bringing his hands up to breathe warm air into them. “I just don’t want you to experience the dip, is all.”

You stayed silent, staring at him as he stared at you.

“You know the water’s freezing. If you were to survive the fall, the cold would probably hurt more.”

Now your bottom lip quivered and the sudden realization of how cold the night air actually was hit you at that exact moment, and you internally begged for the stranger to step closer. “How cold?”

Harry shrugged, still trying his best to remain casual. “Most likely a couple degrees over.”

You stared at the black abyss beneath you, “I bet that would hurt.”

Harry chuckled lowly, taking the risk and stepping closer to you that a simple turn of the head was enough to see his whole face. And it dawned on you, swiftly and surely, that this was the boy who could not seem to stop staring at you earlier. He was much more handsome up close, and his voice was the final piece of the puzzle. “Exactly. But if you jump, I’m gonna have to jump in there after you.”

You laughed dryly, “You’re crazy. Absurd. The fall alone would kill you.”

Harry smirked to himself, focused on the way your wavy hair flew in all directions. He was getting you to speak more. He was buying time. So, he removed his jacket and warm vest to prove his statement.

“Yeah, it would hurt,” Harry shrugged, finally stepping close enough to hang across the railing with you. He glanced down to your shivering feet, fearful that the heels would unlock themselves and send you free falling. “Trust me, you don’t want to do this-”

“And how do you know that? Maybe I want to… die.” It resonated as a question in both your minds, the sinking sensation overwhelming your chest.

“We all die someday. I think the best part is not knowing when.”

You observed the boy’s face, studying his expression to somehow gain a better explanation as to what he possibly meant. You swallowed more tears, this time speaking in a low whisper.

“I can easily predict when.”

Harry actually felt his stomach clench.

You continued, “It’s probably already planned, with as many as two-hundred guests in attendance, and an open bar.”

Harry shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s difficult to respond to that.”

You gave him a small smile, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Whether you meant that in a sincere or disrespectful way, Harry was hurt by the comment nonetheless.

“I know you’re angry, but trust me,” he redirected, an attempt to forget suicidal intentions and reasons and focus on the actual present moment itself. “Water that cold, like right down there… it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe, can’t think-”

You closed your eyes, eyebrows scrunched and suddenly so very cold. “Okay, please stop.”

Harry watched as your skin produced goosebumps and your grip tightened even more. It was a sign of victory, he thought. “I’m just hoping you’ll save me the swim by coming back over the railing.”

You sighed deeply, the air you expelled turning into the cold breeze itself, mixing with the shaky breaths of the one person on this whole damn ship to hear your screams. And you didn’t even physically cry out.

“Come back with me. Trust me, you don’t wanna do this.”

You reached your arm over to prepare for the turn, but instead of gripping the railing like you expected, a warm hand gripped yours instead, tightly, and his thumb immediately began rubbing your knuckles in a soothing motion. He helped you turn back toward the ship, hands now gripping both of yours.

He smiled up at you, his eyes almost watering from the unnoticed stress that was building within him. You grinned slightly, giving a small shrug of the shoulders as the silence broke.

“I don’t want to go back.”

Harry grasped your hands tighter, “Hey, me neither. Do you know how many rats welcomed me in my cabin yesterday?”

You laughed (somewhere between a laugh and a snort), forgetting momentarily that the two of you were standing in dangerous positions exchanging quiet words.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I’m Harry Styles.”

“I’m-”

“An absolute blooming rose.”

Your eyes widened momentarily, the moment passing with an awareness of peace from the sudden declaration of recorded beauty. You told him your real name anyway, absolutely loving the way it sounded in a british accent, his british accent, but the ‘blooming rose’ reference remained number one. There, with your body still on the wrong side of the ship and his hands now clutching your upper arm and elbow to begin pulling you over - there you were actually content with your current life.

“Up you go.”

You raised one leg to step up a rail, unaware that the beaded lace part of your dress was longer than the rest. It caused a severe slip, and before you knew what was happening, you were falling. You screamed, one hand barely catching the railing and the other arm suffering Harry’s grip and digging nails.

“Harry!”

Harry cried out in distress, almost going over himself. He locked his feet to the ground and against the ship, thighs pressed against the railing, and attempted to pull you up.

“C’mon, you can do it! You gotta climb, too!”

You followed his instructions, trying to climb the railing like a ladder with your free hand. But as you got higher and your legs remained swinging mindlessly against the wet ship, you slipped lower.

“Help me! Help me, please!” you yelled, to Harry and to anyone else who would hear, the ocean now loud with the outrage of your absence.

Harry could feel his heart exploding from the adrenaline spiking as he looked down at your terrified face, relying solely on him to save your life. The whole time he spoke with you he was frightened of the possibility of you letting go or accidentally falling, but now that he could visibly see that you most certainly did not want to die this way, he was mortified.

“I got you, okay?” Harry waited to shout again until you looked back up to him. “I got you.”

You nodded the best you could, the tears still dripping from your eyes and nose, determined to hear his frightened voice.

“I won’t let go! I promise. Now, pull yourself up!”

It took everything in you to support your own body weight with a corset strangling you at the same time, but you gripped the rails and then Harry’s shoulder. The corset made it more difficult to breathe, but you compiled the last pinches of energy and strength within you and aided Harry in your rescue. You groaned as your knees stabbed into the top bar, but the feeling of Harry’s arms wrapping around your waist to pull you over fully eradicated that pain. You two toppled over onto the safe deck, rolling over each other with a loud thud. Harry stayed glued to your waist while you gripped the deck with your nails.

In such a climactic moment, the two of you didn’t notice three members of the crew running toward you with no clue as to what just occurred.

“What’s all this?”

Your dress had ripped slightly, and due to your bedroom tantrum and the high winds, your hair was in absolute disorder. You had no coat on, tears streamed down your face, and a third-class man was hovering over your trembling body. And the crew failed to detect the similar shaking of Harry’s large frame or his scared expression, instead pointing a finger at him and labeling him the guilty party.

“Don’t you move an inch,” a crew member warned, stepping toward Harry and dragging him away from you. Two of the men swooped in to scoop you up, checking for signs of harm.

Your frantic eyes searched for Harry, but he was already looking at you, slightly disappointed and eager to prove himself innocent without throwing you into the cold water himself by revealing the truth.

Finally, they have met lol. xxMoni

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justfriendsbestthings · 1 year

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#Nonni and Malte are hanging out all the time #no one is speculating if they’re dating #just food for thought #also disclaimer for legal reasons this is obviously a joke #I just wish people would chill #i know chilling is no easy business and hard work

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dereksmcgrath · 3 years

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The League of Villains are not the easiest people to root for. But censoring how violent they are, and how violent their opponents are, is not making it easier to see them as compelling antiheroes, at least not as easy as it was in the manga.

I again am wondering what happened in the production of this season--and whether other studios should take over some arcs of My Hero Academia.

“Revival Party,” My Hero Academia Episode 109 (Season 5, Episode 21)

An adaptation of Chapters 218, 224, 225, 226, 227, and 228 of the manga, by Kohei Horikoshi, translated by Caleb Cook with lettering by John Hunt and available from Viz.

My Hero Academia is available to stream on Crunchyroll and Funimation.

Spoilers up to My Hero Academia Chapter 326.

Before I get started, I should put a disclaimer that has been largely unspoken in these reviews. I tend to capitalize “Hero” and “Villain” when writing about the literal jobs or legal titles given to characters in My Hero Academia. If I just meant what role a character has in the story, I would have lowercased it. For example, the League of Villains is made up of Villains, but in this arc, while they are not our heroes, they are definitely our antiheroes.

And that detail has made it even more difficult to write about an episode like this.

I delayed writing this review largely due to scheduling and time availability. Seriously, look again at the top of the post and how many chapters this episode is trying to cram in. Even with just a few pages out of each chapter, that’s a lot of content. I’m not asking for a One Piece pace, but there is something to be said about how helpful the two-chapters-adapted-per-episode guideline was in previous MHA seasons.

And those chapters also contained a lot of content for me to compare back and forth to really figure out whether the anime was censoring much from the manga. (Answer: the anime censored a lot, but even those chapters from the manga were not as bloody and gory as I remembered.)

All of that being said, while time availability has been a challenge this week, that’s not the only reason I delayed getting to this episode. I can’t lie that, given the difficult content ahead, this isn’t exactly fun viewing or entertaining writing. This is digging into the dark side of this series and what it says about larger societal concerns with mental health, corporate power, abusive families, gore, and what amounts to one-person natural disasters like Shigaraki. Not everything in the superhero genre is sunshine and lollipops. But I anticipated how much of a marked departure this arc was going to be in terms of violence and tone, given how far along I’m at in the manga: as this series is going, it’s going to keep being pretty grim until Izuku returns to UA. Engaging in that story is difficult, compared to how comparatively lighter the series has been up to now. And I’m even including All For One’s revelation at Kamino that he effectively kidnapped the grandson of the woman he killed--and now, looking at that grandson in this arc, we’re reaching the logical conclusion to that darkness.

It has been past time to really delve into Shigaraki’s origin story, and like what we learn about Toga in this episode, I feel underwhelmed. We’ll get to more about Shigaraki in the next episodes, but this one felt like it could have stood a little more room to breathe. If the opening could have been moved to the previous episode, if this one could have started with Toga facing Curious, and if the episode had ended with Toga passing out, I think all of that may have given Studio BONES more time to offer something more visually impressive than what we got, as well as add back content in the manga but cut from the anime, such as actually showing Re-Destro, Skeptic, and Trumpet mourning Curious’s death.

(And did the anime change Skeptic’s dialogue from the manga to make it sound like, in this anime, Skeptic doesn’t know Toga just murdered Curious? The man has surveillance everywhere and didn’t see that? But I’ll have a lot more to say about how incompetent the MLA comes off, and how that makes any victory by the League less exciting.)

As I said before, if you’re going to show how systematic change is needed and can be achieved, having one set of villains fight another set of villains isn’t the worst approach.

But it is also an approach that can obscure just what you’re supposed to be fighting against.

The Meta Liberation Army is shown to have its hands in various corporations, political groups, and mass media, all of which is not without its own set of unfortunate implications.

I hate the word “elite” used as an insult. by itself, the word should just mean the best of the best, yet, rather than “elitist” being a fair criticism against a system that elevates only the best at the expense of what is good for as many people as possible, the word instead usually is used to attack people who already have power but are in no way the best of the best. Seriously, how do you look at a post-2016 United States--or a post-W, or a post-Reagan, United States--and ever think these clowns at the top of the Republican Party are the best of anything aside from being the least pungent of all choices of horse shit that party puts in front of you? What I’m getting at is, lambasting the elites only works if the elites were the worst thing to fear. An argument can be made that the elites, when they are apathetic, are the problem; but when people with power, but who lack the skill to handle it expertly, abuse that power, those aren’t elites, they’re not the best of the best--they just suck at what they do, and their incompetence causes problems for everyone.

With all of that in mind, I can’t help but wonder if the MLA in MHA are elites or just incompetents.

When My Hero Academia presents the elite as the villains, that can be bothersome. Showing that the most influential and most successful in electronics, business, politics, and mass media also happen to run a cabal from the shadows is bothersome, as it reinforces distrust in such systems not based on evidence but on the worst suspicions we have about that power. It’s not like this is original to this series: fear of the shadowy forces working in the background have been pivotal to superhero stories, whether Cadmus in Justice League Unlimited or, showing that even the heroes can be bad guys, the Illuminati in Marvel Comics.

Mitigating the more problematic aspects of this portrayal is the fun Horikoshi obviously took with some details: you wouldn’t name Curious’s villainous mass media company after your own publisher without some biting-the-hand humor involved to poke fun at your own role in a power structure. You know, kind of like how I can’t pass up remarking how the villainous group in this arc shares its initial with the most notable literature and languages academic organizations in North America--even as I get the sense that academics won’t get my joke, given the continued separation between serious academic work and serious fan/pop culture work. Or the fact that a lot of academics have little to no sense of humor--myself not excluded.

But going back to “the heroes being bad guys,” this approach with the elite being the villains is not unwarranted. We’ve seen the best of the best in the forms of Pro Heroes and realizing they are not without their problems: All Might’s role as a symbol allowing others to not rise to the occasion when they expect him to save the day, and Endeavor is a domestic abuser. So it makes sense, after sticking with the Pro Heroes for so long, that we finally get a group of Villains that are really a legitimate threat, having operated in the shadows for so long until the time is right. That should be a monumental moment for this series. We reverse it to finally show Villains who are at the top of their game.

And the Villains at the top of their game are going to get their asses handed to them so quickly by a ragtag group of misfits. How disappointing.

It’s not unexpected: history and previous pop culture are full of the ragtag underdogs beating out those in power. But as with previous victories for the League, it feels less like they were really that much better than the MLA. Rather, it’s more so that the plot gave them last-minute power-ups (including revealing this late in the game Shigaraki’s back story to show us, no, he always had this power, this isn’t an author’s ass-pull, you’re imagining things). And it’s more so that the MLA is just foolish. It’s one thing to have Re-Destro be so overconfident to challenge the League in this manner; it’s another to not have better contingencies. Shigaraki brings a kaiju, Re-Destro couldn’t sacrifice a few bucks for a Trypticon? But perhaps I’m not being fair: I complain about All For One being too overly prepared, now I’m complaining about Re-Destro being so under-prepared.

It doesn’t help that I couldn’t figure out Skeptic’s plan. Is he cloning Re-Destro with Twice’s ability so that they can have a figurehead? That would make sense. Or is he cloning Re-Destro with Twice’s ability to keep Re-Destro always present? Because, if so, he does know that Twice’s Quirk cancels when he’s knocked out or dead, right? I mean, if he doesn’t, that helps clarify that the MLA is not as all-knowing as they seem--which makes Re-Destro’s goal to do what the government has not and take down the League all the more comical given how overwhelmed Re-Destro ends up being by these sidelined outcasts.

With the MLA, it’s too bad that, even when we get to see villains supposed at the top of their game, their portrayal is hampered by the series itself, whether by introducing the MLA so late in the run that their successes are going to immediately become pathetic (worsened by how the anime has handled adapting the manga this season) or by making the League losers for so long that, while we get behind them as the underdog in this fight, it can feel like too little, too late.

The League of Villains, when not benefiting from All For One’s resources and Shigaraki’s planning, have just been victims of luck: any victory has had its cost, given what happened to Magne, and there hasn’t been an obvious strategy on Shigaraki’s part for bringing in admittedly powerful members like Toga, Twice, and Dabi but who have their own flaws that get in the way of what the League could accomplish. Even the victory against the Shie Hassaikai and the Pro Heroes had more to do with how brutal the Villains were willing to be, less than some brilliant strategy, regardless Shigaraki’s game metaphors thrown back in the face of the now armless Overhaul. This arc was supposed to be a good opportunity to show some of the League unlocking their potential and showing how audience members like me underestimate them at our peril. And I don’t get that sense of peril, when Toga’s victory is thanks to a last-minute power-up, one that was already vague in the manga--“awakening” now being something Quirks can somehow do--and almost completely unstated in the anime--largely cut in this episode, along with Curious’s world-building information about “Quirk counseling” and other government assistance that I wanted to hear about in this series but keep having sidelined for under-animated action.

And speaking of under-animated action, I was really expecting something more brutal in this Toga story, and it wasn’t there. I should be grateful: I did say I was hesitant to watch this gory an episode. I went back and forth between this episode and the manga chapters to try to figure out what was being censored and what wasn’t. The wiki helped, but I also think the black and white colors of the manga somehow made how brutal all the damage was look more impressive. This anime needed to up what was already in the manga--and instead, Toga gets blown up a few times yet looks comparatively still together. I know Curious’s followers had their blood made explosive, so no wonder they died in such shiny (and censored) fashion, but Toga gets out of this largely in-tact and her outfit relatively fine? Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful this didn’t turn into cheap fanservice, but I expected something more graphic. Everything, even the blood, just looked so cartoony that I didn’t feel the dread I expected. I really don’t want to sound desensitized to violence, because I’m not: I just think BONES made a stylistic choice for how to mitigate the intensity of this kind of violence so not to turn away a younger audience, and instead they are not letting this show grow with its audience and show that, no, something this gruesome has to be made to look gruesome.

At least the choice for how to show Curious and others dying was visually creative. The manga showed the bodies largely in shadows as they hit the asphalt: effective, but not that creative. Here, the anime shows a spray of blood in the air--creative, although without the well-done parallels that could have happened (see Spy x Family making a spray of blood look like simultaneous fireworks happening nearby).

Too bad Curious is gone. I’m a sucker for criticisms of mass media, and yet another woman character gets frigid. Now we’re stuck with the other MLA members having largely little to no personality. Seriously, I’ve seen people do better with Skeptic by amping up his social awkwardness so that there is at least something there other than only “over-confident tech CEO.”

While the personalities of the other MLA members are less interesting, the acting and casting made significant improvements, thanks to better material to work with. Takako Honda and Tara Sands knocked it out of the park as Curious, bringing all the right beats of how a media mogul would talk, especially as on-air talent. I had initially had some concerns with the voice chosen for Ben Diskin’s performance as Skeptic, but it’s working for me now--very guttural, befitting his grunge Gorillaz-inspired design and theming. It was odd how the voice direction was trying to make the usually reserved Dabi more fiery. But it makes sense for the choice to have Geten sound so icey cold--especially as, of course, Endeavor’s son Dabi would freak out this much when hearing about another prodigy having their Quirk overworked since childhood and the stress that’s put them under. And Sonny Strait was given such a good dialogue with Giran that was really effective, bringing a lot more civility to this uncivil person.

But that still leads to the other problems with this episode: so much content has been cut from the manga that, as other writers online have said, we’re kind of thrown into the story just assuming we’re to know who Re-Destro is and what his deal is. Summarizing all of that with a narration by Izuku--and I’ll circle back to why having him having any role in this episode is just lazy--is far less effective than how the manga handled it. I can’t do justice to summarizing the problems when other writers online have done better, so, I’ll just say, go read the manga instead: Horikoshi’s allusion to The Killing Joke is excellent visual shorthand for understanding what Re-Destro is all about, imbuing him with sad clown details that complicate his overall thuggishness and make you question whether that’s all he is or whether he really does love these people. Given what we will learn soon about Geten, I do think he loves these people, all the more reason why cutting the scene where he is crying over Curious’s death a significant flaw for what is supposed to be contained in this episode. As I said, this episode should have centered on Curious and Toga--not a cliffhanger about Twice, not foreshadowing Shigaraki’s origin story and power-up, not starting the Geten and Dabi fight, just that woman and that girl, that’s it.

I don’t think the animation was up to the task. Today on Twitter, a few clips have popped up from the Re-Destro and Shigaraki fight, and while I see potential that is pulling from similar animation techniques used in the Sports Festival--the arc that, so far, has been the arc to beat for this series in terms of quality animation--it still felt like it lacked impact.

This episode as well has the same problem. I understand that an episode will pick the scenes to under-animate to save money, but when it is obvious which scenes those are--any time Deika residents stand frozen surrounding Toga--it is not longer a stylistic choice but one that takes viewers out of the episode and make them realize how cheap this looks. Given how intentionally cartoonish these Deika residents are, given their various appearances, the freeze-frame approach is drawing attention in the wrong way to what should be a unique feature of this series and instead fixates on those character designs at what should be a tense moment.

The overall animation has been suffering this season, and while making Toga in Curious’s arms look more like a painting was upping what is already in the manga, it also felt like a cheap trick, along with how bloodless Shigaraki’s attacks look compared to how brutal it was in his first use against Aizawa in the first season. Twice’s conversation with himself in the manga came across like a voice in his head, while the anime seemed to make it more an ongoing conversation he’s having in real-name, which is less interesting and leads to that really awkward scream face he’s making under his mask that wasn’t horrifying to me, it was just goofy. Even Re-Destro in his moment with Giran looked off and would have benefited from more thought as to how to position him to match a 3D model while also not looking so uncanny as to not be believable.

Season 5 of MHA has had far too many problems to sit through without griping on my part. This arc was the first time we were centering on only the Villains, and it has felt like a typical MHA episode. Only now did I finally notice the opening theme changes the card to read My Villain Academia--which is its own set of problems, originating from that same gag in the manga, as there is no school for these Villains for the re-naming to work either. For an arc this pivotal to the story, a new opening theme was needed; instead, we have an opening this season that combines parts of the Endeavor Agency Arc and the League vs MLA Arc. We needed another narrator other than Izuku to introduce Destro and to do the next episode preview--especially when Izuku shouldn’t be knowing this stuff. I understand that this narration is long after Izuku returns to UA after the PLF Arc, but if so, when Izuku still sounds the same age in these narrations, it doesn’t come across as “Izuku narrating from far into the future”: I anticipate Toho and Funimation could not have accounted for everything, but maybe telling the actors for Izuku, “Sound older,” would have been the approach to take. And as I said last time, Present Mic introducing the Villains’ Quirks is a missed opportunity to have Giran do that instead.

But I started this post wanting to talk about making the Villains and Villains fight each other--and I end this post conflicted whether anything worthy was accomplished. I know having Curious be so obsessed with getting the big story is supposed to make it humorous that she died, potentially biting satire about headline-obsessed sensationalized journalism. But it’s also a cheap way to have her die--her obsession makes her ignore her oncoming death, and it’s as if the story is trying to parallel her potential mental condition to Toga’s. I don’t know what to do with all of that from a disability studies perspective, as I don’t feel comfortable taking this argument further yet without more consideration. But the fact that Curious actually calls Toga “insane” in the subtitles only reinforces how awkward I feel talking about it. What was gained in this episode? We learned about Toga’s backstory--and it breezes by pretty fast, albeit buoyed by Curious making sure to emphasize how it is reflective of larger societal concerns, before we drop any further discussion about them so we can get back to action. None of that has me looking forward to how rushed and potentially un-gory Shigaraki’s origin story will be animated. We set up a potential storyline where we meet the proto-Izuku classmate she sucked blood out of--which, given how long it took the woman All Might saved in Kamino to show up again, likely won’t get a pay off any time soon. And we gave Toga a power up--that the video games already gave her years ago because otherwise her combat abilities, while impressive, are not going to do much against powerhouse opponents.

It makes me wish this episode had, as I said, more room to breathe, to actually adapt the manga instead of sticking so close to it, so that we could get more interiority to Toga to understand why she picked Ochaco’s blood (so she could be closer to someone she is obsessed with) and see her intelligence (she picked up really quickly on touching everyone despite having Ochaco’s Quirk just these few moments, and she knew how to deactivate it, too). While the production is obviously present, especially in animating Toga’s use of Ochaco, all of which was impressive and well-acted by all parties involved, this felt like a rush job. If Studio BONES is going to keep making original MHA films instead of trying to adapt the seasons well for TV, then either make the next arcs their own theatrical films and skip a TV broadcast (despite how unsafe that is during a global pandemic and how limiting that is for people who can’t afford that expense compared to monthly streaming costs) or, as I suggested before, have another studio take over some arcs for the sake of variety and theming.

#my hero academia #anime review #mha spoilers #himiko toga #Chitose Kizuki

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hs-devote · 4 years

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4. M A R C E L

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter :

Harry's finger still wandering around her face, thumbs caressing her lips slowly. The air started to feel getting more intense, while Y/N began to be allured by Harry's soft touch. He slowly leaned in, pulling her chin until his lips touch hers. Y/N froze, eyes blinking. His hand cupped her jaw while the other still on her chin. She slowly closed her eyes, kissing him back, trusting him. It was getting way too intense while her arms grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss.

Harry bit her lips with hand rubbing her exposed thigh wildly. Y/N let out a soft moan when Harry was stroking her inner thigh, another hand caressing her bare back.

4. MARCEL

“You scared her, Marcel.”

“Did I ?”

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, hands locked to each other. It was 1 o'clock in the middle of the night, yet he did not feel sleepy at all. His bedroom was pitch dark, the only light was from floor lamps and reflections from building lights from outside. The curtains were wide open. He didn't like the darkness.

Harry's eyes staring deep at the person in front of him. He's too tired to argue with him. Harry never knew why he loved to meet him in the dark night. Always. Only one time he met him when the sky was bright. Blinding lights was not the thing he likes, he didn't like the crowd too much either.

“It's almost two weeks. Every time I talk to her, she always has that look in her eyes.”

“Well, it's your fault then.”

“How come it was my fault? How can it be my fault if you were the one who did it?”

“Harry..” He chuckled mockingly, “You meet her every day, do you? Just use your charm and she will be fine. If your smart enough, you can take advantage of her. How long have you been since got laid?”

“I don't like you talking like that to her. She's my employee, Marcel.”

“But you like her, do you? You have to thank me, Harry. You will never know if I didn't start it. Sadly, you messed it up.” He smirked, “I had almost forgotten what it felt like to taste a woman.”

“Fucking hell, Marcel!” Harry growled, “I am grateful I was able to arrive at the right time. God knows what you would do that night.”

Marcel was laughing, a laugh that Harry hate. A sinister laugh. “Don't bring God in this situation, Harry. He won't listen to you.” He stood up, with a look of pity, smiling devilishly. “Did you know, she saw you killed that person?”

“You were the one who strangled him, Marcel. Not me. What even were you doing there? Don't you know that's her apartment complex?” Harry asked lowly, still glaring at him.

“But, what she knows.. it was you.” He grinned, “I was curious about her. When she was walking out of the building, that son of a bitch was following her. He knew I was behind him, and he didn't like that so... he thought he could rob me but the poor man didn't know what was coming to him.”

“And you killed him, Marcel. I can't believe you.”

“He already saw my face, I couldn't let a single witness roaming around with free, could I? I don't want you to go to prison, Harry.”

Harry could feel the burden on his shoulders, he was tired of this problem. A trivial matter for Marcel, but not for him. “Where did you throw the body?” He sighed, rubbing his face.

“Don't worry too much. Just calm down. No one will find it. Trust me.”

“Trust you?!” Harry screamed, “How could I trust you if every time you do something, I always take care of that? Just stop it, Marcel. You always did that but never think of the consequences!”

“Don't be loud, your housemaids is sleeping. Well, I don't know why you let Suzanne stay the night.” He snickered, “That's why I have you, Harry. Use your connection, Harry. Use your brain, your power.”

Right now, Harry really wanted to throw things but he couldn’t do that. Poor Suzanne was exhausted and Harry had let her stay overnight. After all, she would be home alone because her son didn't come home tonight.

“One question.” His eyes sharp, looking at Marcel's dark one. For a moment, he could see the reflection of his face. “If I didn't lose the count, you came a lot lately. 4 of them when I was with Y/N. Why?”

“We both know what triggered you, Harry. Sometimes I think, why you can be a weak person? You're weak, Harry. Not like me. Yes, you are powerful, rich, handsome. But I am too. What if, I'm there? You can rest, until whenever you want.” He laughed, not caring the look of Harry's disgust, “I swear to God, Marcel..”

But Marcel keep laughing like he just had been told the funniest joke in the world. Harry couldn't contain it anymore, he grabbed the floor lamp and throwing it to the full-length mirror. Shattered glass falling to pieces on the floor along with a loud bang. He couldn’t see Marcel any more, yet his sinister laugh still haunted him.

Every time Harry tried to get rid of Marcel, he couldn't. Every time he saw his reflection in the mirror, he saw those eyes, eyes that resemblance him, but darker then ever, that was when Marcel came suddenly with the same figure as him. He was aware, Marcel was living with him, and he couldn't just get rid of Marcel.

. . . .

“Mr. Styles?” Y/N ask slowly when she pushed his door open. Her hands gripping some bundles tightly. Her feet step inside very carefully, like afraid of something.

That night moment in the car, made her couldn't sleep all night. Her feelings were crumbling. On the one hand, she couldn't lie with her feelings. She had crush on Harry, from the first day she laid her eyes on him. On the other hand, she felt unprofessional. Yes, she knew they did that outside work area, Harry's still her boss.

“Yes, can I help you with something?” Harry asked, watching her pulling a chair in front of him. A couple of weeks working in here, Harry saw significant progress in the way she handles her tasks. To be honest, she was the assistant he liked the most from the people before. Not only because of work, but she also had nice character, and extraordinarily smart for women her age.

“Err, I have bad news. Polygram calling off the contract unilaterally and withdraw all funds from Erskine.”

Harry couldn't digest every word that came out of her mouth, like her voice slowly fade away. He just stared at her dumbfounded. Y/N not sure either if Harry really listening to her. “Legal counsel is on discussing right as we talk now, looking for cause if Erskine can sue them.”

“Harry?” Y/N called him when Harry didn't budge. Slowly, she waved her hand in front of his face. He jumped instantly, “Yeah, yeah? I'm sorry.”

“Did you hear me, sir? You were spacing out.”

“How much funds did Polygram provide during the contract?”

“$900,000 equivalent £730,000. They withdrew almost full funds even though the contract had been running for six months out of the year.”

“Not too much, but still.. it’s breach of contract.”

“But, from the news I heard, their affiliated company will most likely do the same with thing to Erskine. A total of four companies are under Polygram, with worth $3,000,000”

Harry felt like something was suffocating him. One of their biggest clients walking away from his company. He didn’t understand what happened. Everything was all right before.

“Do you know what is the reason? Maybe we can persuade them? I don't want to lose a client. I don't want to let go of them with prejudice, if something isn't right, we can talk about it.”

“I will arrange the meeting immediately, sir.” Y/N nodded. She felt sorry for Harry now, he looked stressed, clearly visible from the look of his face. “Do you need anything, sir?”

In fact, Y/N was waiting for Harry to talk about what happened that night. After they kissed, Harry never brought it up.

To this day.

Y/N didn't know what Harry was thinking at the time, and right now. Whether he did it because he just wanted to kiss her, or because of his emotion, or because he indeed like her.

“No, thank you Y/N.” Harry forced a smile. Y/N could only sigh softly with disappointment. If she could be honest, she had a lot of hope of him. She just didn’t want to be disappointed before it's too late. She excused herself, going back to her office.

Plopping herself into her chair, Y/N opened her email. Quickly typing away a meeting invitation to Polygram, hope they would cancel their intentions. She knew how mad Harry would be if that really happens.

Her phone ringing loudly, making her slightly jump in her seat. Sliding the screen up, she brought her cellphone to her ear, “Hello?”

“Don't sound too happy, what's wrong Y/N?”

“Hi to you too, Abbie.” She shrieked, “I'm sorry, I just.. well kinda busy at the moment. How are you?”

“Oh, do I bother you? I can hang up and call you in another hour maybe?”

“Nah, I'm fine.” Her other hand lifted from the keyboard, “Now, I'm free for the next ten minutes, I guess.”

“Well, I just wanna check up my best friend. How's Erskine, anyway? Everything good?”

“Worth the benefits, obviously. I'm sorry we rarely hang out together even on weekends. It's been a long time since I've seen you. For God's sake, we are in the same city!”

“Don't worry about that. I could just pay a visit, you know?”

Abbie or Abigail, was a friend from high school. When they were in college, they went to London together but with different universities. She settled in London after that, while Y/N coming back to her home town.

“Any romance involved in the office?”

Y/N giggled, not really know what to answer. “No.. not really. Not yet.”

“Whoa, so.. there's someone? Who's that?!”

“Abbie, please.” She sighed, “I don't know really, it's difficult with.. the situation.” Y/N muttered, toying her pen. “I don't know if he likes me.”

“Okay then if you don't wanna talk about it. I will ask for the progress next week.” She laughed, “Can we talk about your hot as fuck boss? How's him in the office?”

Y/N shifted awkwardly in her seat, her mind went to their kisses memory. “Oh, Harry? He's nice. Very nice person. Unlike most bosses –stern, creepy. Not at all.”

“Does he have a girlfriend? What is his girlfriend like?”

“No, he's very very single. A fit bachelor. Why?”

“I just curious. I mean.. he's a fucking CEO at THAT age. Fucking handsome like a Greek god. Tell me I'm freak but I love to search him on Google. Did you know that Erskine is one of the top companies with the biggest revenue? Who doesn't want him? He could easily spoil her girlfriend with buckets of diamonds. There's nothing he can do.”

“All I know is Harry works his ass off every day.”

“Hold on.. Did I just hear you call him Harry? So, we are in the first name basis, huh?

“Shut up.” Y/N chuckled, her eyes raking her email.

Polygram agreed to a meeting, but today.

“Can I call you back later? I have a meeting to do.”

“Right then, talk later!”

After she hung up the call, Y/N read the Polygram email carefully. They would love to hold a meeting this afternoon. She dialled Harry's extension right away, he picked up on the second ring.

“Mr. Styles? Polygram agree to a meeting, today at 2.00pm in Erskine. Do you have time? I already check on your schedule , you have no meetings today.”

“It's fine. Please take care of it.”

“Will do.”

Polygram team arrive exactly at 2 o'clock, while Y/N have waited ten minutes ago. She immediately called Harry while the participants were enjoying some snacks offered. Harry's arrival was greeted with handshakes and short small talks.

“I'm aware of this purpose meeting, Mr. Styles. We apologise for contract withdrawal but that was all orders from the council.”

“What is the reason if I may ask, Mr. Roberts? We have never committed violations, haven't we?”

“Yes yes, we are very aware, Mr. Styles. The reason is...” Mr. Roberts glanced at his colleagues, like he was hesitant to say it. “The council doesn't want to work with companies led by.. arrogant young people, they said.”

“Pardon?” Both Y/N and Harry stared at them dumbfounded. Really didn’t get what he meant.

“Our council got the news that you attacked one of our loyal colleagues at an event, and they are not pleased with it.”

Harry? Attacking someone?

Y/N rolled her memories to a few days back, remember that it was true that Harry attacked someone that night. But he was the one who started it, not Harry. It was Dale.

Dale...

Loyal colleagues...

Of course, Machtig.

“Where did they get it from? There's no news about it.” Y/N asked slowly.

“We don't know exactly, we just know that one of the councils' members really close with Machtig.”

“They don't know what really happened.” Harry muttered

“But the news about you, Mr. Styles, punching a man in public areas spread very fast.” This time, a lady with her black short hair opened her mouth after a long time silence. “They only question your performance if you like beating people up. Sure the council wants to keep their image.”

“Do you guys know you're breaking the law? We could sue Polygram but certainly, we don't want to if you cancel the withdrawal.” Y/N exclaimed, trying to speak for Harry. Because from the corner of her eyes, Harry began to look pissed. Everyone sunk into silence, as if just understood the consequences. Y/N was even more infuriated when no one spoke. “Isn't it unprofessional to bring together between work and personal matters? If Mr. Styles here wants to do something outside his office, it becomes his privacy. I mean, he didn't commit a crime.”

“The council also wondering why the police had not been involved in the incident.”

“Denise..” Mr. Roberts hissed at his co-worker, ask her to stop it immediately. Y/N wondered why this woman named Denise really coming at Harry.

Police...

Then Y/N realised, when Harry threw his fist to the robber, they had approached by the police. But after that, they were never been called. Did the police really forget them? Her or Harry could have been designated as witnesses if they wanted to proceed to court. There's no way the police just let him go.

“I understand your worries, Mr. Styles, Ms. Y/L/N. We'll try to talk to the council, especially with the charges if we break the contract.” Mr. Robert spoke, while collecting up his stuff.

“We're waiting for the good news in a week, tops.” Y/N stressed her words, waiting for a definite answer. Harry – who was sitting next to her, was completely indifferent. His chest rose up and down, ready to explode soon.

“I'll try my best.”

“Thank you, Mr. Roberts.”

After bidding them goodbye, Y/N was going to go back to her office when Harry's hand gripped her wrist. She let him speak first, didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, but she hoped Harry could control his anger right now.

“Thank you for that.” He said lowly, hand still gripping her wrist. She just smiled while her other hand rubbing his knuckles, “For what?”

“You speak more than me, thank you for defending me. I appreciate that, really.”

“I think it's an employee's obligation to defend their company. Plus their boss is being cornered like that.” She shrugged, “I don't like that Denise lady, but I appreciate Mr. Roberts.”

“Fun fact, Denise used to work here. I fired her because she was caught having sex with one of the employees in the office bathroom.”

Harry was laughing when he found Y/N scrunched her face, “That's.. disgusting.”

“Mhm, no wonder she was bitter towards me.”

“Mr. Styles?”

“It's Harry.”

Y/N bit her lips, well that's new. They still in the office but Harry let her call him his first name. Then she looked down her hand, swinging them back and forth with Harry's, like kids holding hands.

“Come get something cold and sweet. This time is on me. Where do you want to eat ice cream?”

“Ice cream, really?” Harry chuckled, hand still swinging with hers. “Pretty sure your head now is about to explode, ice cream will cold it down, definitely.”

“All right,” Harry stood up, gathering his laptop. “Pack your bag, we'll go to Soho.”

. . . .

“Hi, can I get Tiramisu Sundae and..” Y/N looked at Harry, who still looking at the menu. “Harry?”

“Oh, I will go with... Sticky Toffee? Thank you.” Harry smiled.

Y/N swore that the cashier lady was swooning over him, she bit her lip when punching the cash register.

“That would be £15.” Y/N handed her cash, after saying thanks, her and Harry step aside while waiting for their order. Less than five minutes, they walk to a vacant booth with ice creams in their hands.

“This is delicious.” Y/N moan softly, licking her spoon. Harry quietly watched Y/N enjoying her dessert, her face looked adorable while concentrating on her ice cream. He let five minutes pass without conversation. He just wanted to enjoy a moment of time, being someone who's carefree for a second.

“I want to apologies.”

His words made Y/N lift her head, wrinkles visible on her forehead. “For what?”

“The moment in the car a few nights before. I’m sorry if I was freaking you out.”

“Oh.” Well, she never thought Harry would apologise. Did he feel any guilt? For kissing her?

“Erm, I.. I think it's... it's okay, Harry.” She mumbled, looking down her cup which now looked more interesting. No. She just feels intimidated by Harry. She didn’t know why.

“No, it's not okay Y/N. It's not... it's not like I feel guilty. It's just that I feel like using you in that situation.” Harry fumbled his finger, panic began to fill his body.

“Did you enjoy it?” Y/N averted her gaze to Harry, she could see Harry's nervous too. “Because I did, Harry.”

“Glad to know that.” He smiled softly, “At least I'm not the only one felt it.”

“Let's just say this is a date. I'll take you on another date.”

“A date?” Now, Y/N could feel her heart rumbling. This wasn’t something she expected. Her mixed feelings made her dizzy. A date? Harry was asking her out, again? She didn't listen to it in the wrong way, did she?

“I really... really like you, Y/N. And I'll look forward to getting to know you better than ever.” His blinding smile made her knees weak, her bones turn into jelly. Harry Styles asked her for another date? Her inner goddess slacking her jaw.

“I'll wait then.” She returned his smiled, feeling shy because Harry kept smiling at her with his prominent dimples.

Soho that night was the same as usual nights. When Londoners prefer to spend time in club or bars, the tourists with their cameras engrossed in capturing every corner of the area – to share with their loved ones. Or maybe just shop for souvenirs to take home. Or couples who wants to watch a show at the local Soho theatre.

Walking down the street, Y/N really enjoyed London – again. Since she moved from Swansea, she had never been back to Soho. Soho and its atmosphere, not much had changed. She chuckled when passed a gay couple who had just exited from one of the bars, stumbling in drunk while pointing their sex toys to one another.

Spending the afternoon on feet in Soho, Harry drove Y/N home when his watch showed 10.00 pm. He felt more human and normal when he could spend his little time outside without having worries over work. Harry totally turned off his cellphone, didn't want to be disturbed for a moment –didn’t care if an urgent call comes in. What he cared about was how he could have quality time with Y/N.

Harry didn't realise that Y/N had fallen asleep during the trip back home, it seemed like the music from a radio he played made her sleepy. He was silent for ten minutes after arriving in her building, couldn't bear to wake Y/N up –she looked tired. He just stared at her, doing nothing.

Her closed eyelids to mouth slightly open. The small things like that made him smile . She stirred slightly in her sleep, before her eyes flutter open. The first thing she saw was his eyes, not the desk clock that usually woke her up every morning.

“Hi.” She murmured softly, hesitate to move from her comfy position.

“You were asleep.” Harry whispered with his fingers straighten her hair.

“Looks like. ” she yawned, “'m sorry.”

“Don't be. It's okay.”

Y/N straightened her upper body, fist rubbing her eyes. “I have to go inside, it's already late. Have to work tomorrow.”

“Mhm.”

“Thank you for today, Harry. I really really enjoyed it.” She said before opening the car door, her sleepy eyes made Harry shake his head. She looked adorable. “I should be the one thanking you for the ice cream treat.”

“It's nothing, really.” Y/N smiled, leaning in and give his cheek a small peck. “Drive safe, Harry. Good night.”

“Have a good rest, love.”

Harry was smiling like idiots when his door slam shut softly, leaving him alone. He sighed, It's been a long time since he felt like this.

. . . .

Full name: Styles, Harry Edward Mr Age: 25 Date of birth: Sparkhill – Birmingham, February 1st 1994 Occupation: Confidential Address: Chelsea Waterfront, Waterfront Dr, Fulham, London SW10 0QD, United Kingdom Diagnosis: Confidential Medical complaints: Excessive anger, Loss of self-control

Health professional: Horan, Niall Mr Specialities: General Psychiatry Treatment action: TBA.

“What's wrong now, Harry?” Niall put his glasses down the table. Hands locked, while staring at his friend. His index fingers tapping at Harry's portfolio.

“I attacked people.. a few.”

“And?” Niall raised an eyebrow, waiting for Harry to finish what he said.

“In public..”

“Something must be triggering you.”

Harry paused, choosing the right words before leaving his mouth, “One of them killed.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry..” Niall looks at his friend in disbelief, hand massaging his forehead. “I understand you attacked someone, but.. killed them?”

“I just found out days after that, the body was drowned in Gallion Reach. I don't know how but the body hasn't been found around there yet.”

Niall let out big exhale, “Fucking mental.” His hands taking notes and pen from his desk, “How often have you attack people in the past couple weeks?”

“Five times.”

“It doesn't all end with a loss of life, right?”

Harry shook his head, feel ashamed of his behaviour. But at least he could calm down because the doctor was his own best friend. Niall wouldn't judge him carelessly.

“Now, tell me. I'm all ears.”

“Well, he appears more often. I don't know why. I still take medicines, sometimes forgotten because I'm busy with my work. But before that.. it was no problem. He has become more aggressive since I'm being close to Y/N. He even appeared when Y/N's first day of work with me, without doing anything. Only creeping at her within a few centimetres.”

“Did.. he do something brutal to her?”

“Just.. snapping at her while she trying to help with my wounds.” Of course Harry didn't want to tell him about he kissed her that night after he punched Dale.

“I read the news about you assaulted a robber in Canada Square, and.. rumours about you broke someone's nose from Machtig at that gala night, is it true?”

Harry just nodded, looking at Niall who was writing something in his notes. “You fixed it, right?”

“I think Mario is tired of helping me. He always said.. this is the last time, Harry. But every time I come to ask for help, he also said if you weren't my friend and battling with yourself Harry, I wouldn't want to help you.”

“Good things that he's a member of NCA's council. At least your name will be safe from the records.”

“Are you trying to insult me, Niall?”

Niall fell silent, seemed he pressed the wrong button. Harry's facial expression become hard. But, he was indeed serious. “Am I talking to Marcel now? Or Harry?”

“No, but I can feel he's watching you right now.”

He gave Harry a small smile, folding his arms together while looking at his friend carefully. Right now, the man sitting in front of him, something was different on him, Niall felt that. Bright green eyes, soft yet firm expression.. well, this was Harry. Marcel had darker eyes, he had something strange with him. If Marcel was in front of him right now, he wouldn't be able to speak so quietly and slowly.

“When you said Marcel was more aggressive when you were with Y/N, I wondered if he had.. a certain motive?”

“He had never hurt her.”

“The keyword: had never. If that happens, what would you do? I guess you haven't told her, have you?” Niall asked curiously with teasing smile.

“If I do, she will definitely decline the date. One day I'll be honest with her. I can't lie for too long.”

“So, is there the date you didn't tell me huh?” He wiggled his eyebrow, making Harry laugh. One that Harry liked when he came to visit Niall, he would never treat him like a regular patient. They would talk like usual friends who were chatting in the pub. Niall would always spend more time on him.

“Well, you know how the cure works, Harry. I can only give you a prescription to help you reduce your stress level and blood pressure. If you think Marcel is ready to take over, try to think something makes you happy.”

. . . .

Going home to an empty house was not a pleasant thing for Harry, even though he had lived alone for a few years. When he was still living in Manchester with his family, whenever he opened the front door, his mother's voice would the first thing he heard.

His mum, Anne, would like to keep her eyes open and make sure her son arrived home okay, rather than going to bed and finding him not in good condition in the morning. Young Harry was the same as other teenagers, he could be stubborn whenever he wants or being spoiled whenever he has the chances.

Sometimes he thought, his penthouse way bigger than he needs. He lived alone, his home would be empty when he was working even though his million pounds home would be occupied for a short time when Suzanne did her work. He wouldn't risk his safety and privacy if he moved to another place.

As usual, Harry unlocked his door. If normally the hall was pitch dark, not this time. A few lights were turned on, created a dim atmosphere. It was strange. Did Suzanne forget to switch the lamps off?

“Why the confused face, Harry? Never see the lights on?”

. .

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles series #dark harry styles #dark harry #solo harry styles #solo harry #ceo harry #ceo harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fic rec #fan fic #romance #harry edward styles #fantasy

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sdra2headcanons · 5 years

Note

I just love your headcanons, you are doing great job, you're wonderful! 💖 May I ask you some sdra2 boys (+Kanade if you want), kiss headcanon. I mean, how they kiss and their favorite places to kiss and to be kissed. I am sorry if it's too much. >.< If it's too much, forget this ask! Thank you. 😊

Thank you sm!! Also of course! 💕

Small disclaimer: I’ve only kissed people like. Twice so please don’t come for me if these’re inaccurate dhskh-

—————————————————————

Shinji:

-At first he's extremely flustered when he tries to initiate a kiss, but he gets better overtime! That's not to say he isn't a mess once it's over though-

-He loves being kissed on the cheek! Like anytime his S/O kisses him on the cheek, especially with nothing to prompt it, he just. Melts-

-Honestly I could see him loving to kiss everywhere- like if his S/O's having a bad day he'd just shower them in kisses ! But if I legally had to narrow it down, I'd probably say he loves to kiss his S/O's hands!

—————————————————————

Hajime:

-He's so smooth- like every time he goes to kiss his S/O he always has some kind of smooth, but usually cheesy, excuse planned, even if his S/O says it isn't necessary

-Idk if this counts but dude his lips're just. Never chapped- you'd think they would be, but nope !

-He loves getting kisses on his arms! It's a little weird considering most people prefer getting kissed on the lips or something similar, but when his S/O kisses up his arm he's just. Flustered fskfhksdh

-He loves kissing his S/O on the neck! More specifically though, that area where your neck and your back meet if that makes sense? Idk if it has a name I'm. Not very good at anatomy-

—————————————————————

Nikkei:

-He never initiates kisses unless he really wants one- stupid tsundere. His S/O usually has fun with it though, also refusing to initiate kisses until Nikkei finally breaks down and's like 'dude I crave affection, hand it over'

-He loves getting kissed on the neck! But like actually on the neck this time, not on the place I still dunno the name for-

-On the rare occasion that he actually imitates a kiss of some kind, he always goes for the lips babey !

—————————————————————

Syobai:

-He doesn't really do the whole. Affection thing most of the time- but ! When he does he usually doesn't go for something less than a kiss (like cuddling) unless he or his S/O really need some soft affection

-Which leads to my next point: he loves being kissed on the lips ! Though the occasional surprise kiss on the cheek is definitely welcome, even if he's all 'dhsjd why'd you do that' afterwards-

-Obviously he loves kissing his S/O on the lips, but he's a stupid tease half the time so he probably likes kissing their neck/shoulders as well-

—————————————————————

Mikado:

-He gets. So happy every time his S/O initiates a kiss- like whenever he does it he's like 'haha I'm smooth' but then they do it and he just :D

-Kissings a little hard though bc of his mask, so it's hard to have surprise kisses- but ! Everywhere else can still be kissed though so it isn't too bad !

-He loves getting kissed basically anywhere but I think he'd (not so) secretly love getting kissed on his chest/shoulders kinda area? Idk why but that's the first more specific thing that came to mind

-100% loves kissing the end of his S/O's nose. It's almost always unexpected and gets them all flustered and he gets to tease them about it-

—————————————————————

Teruya:

-He uses. So many cheesy pickup lines. Like anytime he initiates anything, kisses or otherwise, he starts it with a cheesy pickup line-

-This doesn't have to do with kissing but he's 100% used the 'you hand looks heavy let me hold it' line before okay anyways-

-He loves getting kissed on the forehead! It's a little hard considering he's like. 8ft tall and most people aren't anywhere near that, but it just makes it extra special whenever his S/O does it!

-He loves kissing his S/O's face in general! Just being able to shower them in kisses makes him mega happy dhskdh

-I hc Teruya as being. Way more soft than he probably actually would be okay anyways-

—————————————————————

Yuki:

-Dude he was lowkey pretty embarrassed the first time dhksds

-Wait I described Shinji's kinda similar- Yuki's not nearly as embarrassed as Shinji would be, but he does get better overtime like Shinji does !

-Does that makes sense? Idk I need. To stop going off on tangents-

-He loves having his hands kissed! His S/O could pick up his hand and kiss it like some kinda prince in a Disney movie would and he just. Dhskhjs's you know?

-He loves kissing his S/O's jawline area! I legit have no reasoning for this but. I can't think of anything better so-

-I'm great at this fhskdh

—————————————————————

Yuri:

-Dhsjdh he's short so depending on how tall his S/O is, it's practically impossible for him to initiate a kiss without a stepladder of some kind- that doesn't stop him though !! He's determined !!!

-He loves getting kissed on his cheeks and lips! I just feel like he wouldn't be able to choose because on one hand, lip kisses are usually more special, but on the other hand, his S/O giving him affection is considered special in his eyes, no matter how simple or how often it's done !

-He loves kissing his S/O's forehead, solely bc it's a power move since it means he managed to reach it- but jokes aside he just?? Loves being able to kiss his S/O???

-Me: 'Haha Yuri's short'

-Also Me: Is literally only two inches taller than him

-Anyways-

—————————————————————

Kanade:

-Shes always plans smooth ways to go about things but then as soon as she get in the situation where she can use them she's just like. 'Dhsjdhs what now-'

-She loves being kissed on the cheek ! If her S/O kisses her cheek she just. Immediately smiles dhksdh

-She loves kissing her S/O's hands babey ! It just makes her happy to have her S/O's hand in hers and to know that they're there with her hdjsdh

—————————————————————

Am I projecting @ the Kanade part? Who knows. All I know is that I want a girl to kiss my cheek dhskdh. Anyways, I hope you enjoy these! 💖

-Mod Kanade

#sdra2 #super danganronpa another 2 #shinji kasai #hajime makunouchi #nikkei yomiuri #syobai hashimoto #teruya ootori #mikado sannoji #yuki maeda #yuri kagarin #kanade otonokoji

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shesawriter39049 · 5 years

Text

BTS -HS-HEADCONS

(Slightly NSFW ) ..JUST A LIL

Mkay ..disclaimer this is all in good FUN, I’m also a fellow 94 liner, so if the boys were in the US, we would’ve been in HS together!

This is Obv very Westernized and I’m writing this as if they aren’t the art school AU’s people typically write

(EDITED 8/5/2020)

Jimin-

-A whole thot thot, I mean don’t get me wrong he’s a total sweetheart but he’s still a walking thirst trap, no cap, no filter! He’s kinda ”famous” on social media(Prob like 15-20k) Snap, IG, FB, you name it...for some reason he always seems to work out shirtless. LOVES to take pics so you KNOW he worked out shirtless!

-Please don’t let any form of R&B play at a party...It’s a wrap, what you tryin to see? Some grind work? A little hip roll action? You want a lap dance? Tongue out and all! The Asian alllll the black girls girls love(Obviously not just black girls but lets be real..it takes a certain...appeal..and Jimin has it!)

- Gives off that whole “My dad owns, about 5 nail salons and beauty supplies in the hood” kinda vibe! (Meaning hes comfortable around different walks of life,he doesn't feel out of place easily, hes the type of person that everybody can gravitate towards) The boy has swag and he knows it…got everybody from Megan to Brian thirsty as all hell!

-Will win best hair his senior year..without a doubt, well if he doesn't fry it first!... Looks like a walking Pantene commercial, yes, more so because he can’t go two seconds without running his fingers through his scalp!

-KING of subtle shade...knows all the tea but acts like he doesn't as he slowly sips his Starbucks. The type to honestly forget he’s told 3 different girls they could wear his jersey/Letterman jacket! Until they all text him Thursday night ....

-A jock that’s cool with everybody! The type to cuss out his fellow athletes that are total dick wads and bully people... I feel like he’d be a damn good running back, he has the right height a muscle build up for it.

-Owns a pair of buffs, don't lie to yourself you know you could see it too...wears skinny jeans with Timberland's 😒, still wears 3878374 rings. Believe it or not he gives me like Tilly’s/Zumiez/PacSun vibes!

-Drives a red obnoxiously loud scat pack that’s tinted way past the legal shade! He drifts on the weekends. Jimin would be your local plug IDC,IDC,IDC...LOL I said what I said, got a whole eighter hiding in a fake bottle of orange juice!

- Just flirting his way through high school living his best life… will fuck someone up if need be, has a slight temper, sassy as hell, can roll his eyes with the best of them. ”Would it be ...too extra if I changed outfits and dates during the dance?..Serious question guys! ”

- He’d be the one that all the girls say gives the best head ...I mean..those lips..that tongue..HELLO! Stroke game on point...I feel like he’d have no filter when it comes to talking about sex publicly. No shame, loves to tease you, at the worst times, down to sneak off to the bathroom, or the janitors closet! Will bend you over behind the bleachers after they win a football game...if your down...gang, gang!

Namjoon-

-An Asian with light skin tendencies ...the one that low key may think he’s black (I’m joking!! lmao,,,maybe)

-He’s that one person that legitimately everyone likes...no matter how hard you may try..you just can’t dislike him!

-He actually is class president!

-Hangs out with all the basketball players and has the freshest Jordans..but can’t hoop! He’s on the school newspaper..writes the sports column...is still that free spirit telling you to live your best damn life.

-Either looks like he’s going to a business meeting or like he just picked out damn near everything from Champs there’s no in between!

-Makes and sells beats on the side, would also have a strong social media presence! He’s be the type to have a ton of followers on Sound Cloud and Spotify!

-The type to try and talk is way into and or around everything “I understand hats are against the wardrobe but I’m just trying to express myself and I think it’s right to give everybody self expression” Wears glasses, though none of us really know if he needs them forreal forreal…. Wears a snowman on his wrist (A big iced out watch).

-Drives a white BMW 430, puts cones around his car in the parking lot..Yoongi and Jimin kick the cones...faithfully..everyday!

-Don’t let his niceness fool you, will cook your ass in the blink of an eye if need be! Prefers a good verbal situation though, the king of a good word battle will have you all types of trying to check the dictionary to understand what he just said! Got you standing there like a misplaced student in honors English…

- If shit get’s physical well..we can’t let the president fight soo...he’ll call Yoongi or Jimin to handle it for him…. Because...well his Jay’s are brand new..and only 10 other people have them...sooooo..OR maybe it’s lowkey because he can’t fight all that well...baby’s not coordinate OKAY!? Don’t @ me!

-Oophfff daddy long leg! Lmao nah but you know he’d be the one...the one that every girl says he’s packin..and he is...He’d be little more reserved..and modest when it comes to his skills but he’s damn sure not shy! Would deff skip lunch, for a quickey at the park..yes the park.....would leave for lunch in a suit...come back in some joggers....real subtel....

Yoongi -

-The unexpected jock ...the one who can kick your entire ass in basketball, one of the stars on the team! Shooting Guard, has a championship ring from every year he’s played!

-Picks and chooses when he wants to be social. Just judge his mood based on his face that day!

-DJ’s every party and school event. Often gets into trouble for not playing the clean versions of songs!

-He’s on the morning broadcast with Jimin and Jin...also forgets to censor himself. I.E “Peter Pan opened last night and it sucked actual ass!”

-Lowkey highkey funny AF, king of sarcasm and one liners!

-Purposely owns an old school Chevelle instead of a new car, also drifts on the weekends.

- Lives in like the flyest loungewear...joggers, hoodies,Jays..doesn't look like he tried but still looks bomb AF.

-Another one that will creep up on you when it comes to his skill in bed, the one that girls say there surprised with how passionate and attentive he is! In contrast to how hard his exterior can be, the type to take his time and make sure your more than satisfied….

-Always, ALWAYS has his headphones in, lives and breathes music! He raps on the side, competes in underground competitions, and win’s without even trying! Refuses to ever participle in the schools talent show because he can’t swear therefore they are hindering his creative flow!

-Constantly looks like he’d rather cut his own testie off than be “here” right now.

-Will walk out if you don't let him go to the bathroom when he feels like it, actually he’ll just walk out period…”Yoongi where are you going!?” .

“Oh I need another espresso shot before I sit through this extremely falsely sugarcoated reality of how Columbus “discovered” a place that was already there!”

Jimin: “Aww man, sit down I got you! I was just about to have Pizza Hut sent to the office, you wanna add into my postmates order!!?”

😩😂😂😂...I canttttt ..maybe I’ll do the other four!? Again all in good fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I often wonder what the boys would be like if they were born in the states. Then I realize the lack of filter they’d all have especially JIMIN and I’m grateful for the cultural differences that come with them being Korean born !

UPDATE- 7/29...I think I might turn these headcons into a lil sum sum...writing these reminded me that I actually enjoyed HS (For me my “shitty” period was like elementray and part of middle school) But I made HS my bitch, and had so much damn fun lol !

7/30- PART 1

#jimin #jimin smut #jimin headcanon #namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon headcanon #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi headcon #bts #bts smut #bts high school au #bts au #bts headcon #kpop headcons #jimin hs #park jimin #kim namjoon #min yoongi

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years

Text

Azaleas

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 9.9k

Genre: Smut

Summary: The Last thing you wanted was Jeon Jungkook on your case...but maybe you can find it in yourself to come to enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Most of the legal terms and phrases and references are what I found online. If anything is wrong, please forgive me and don’t take me to court.

Warning: A lot of legal talk, Courtroom scenes, Drug trafficking, Wrongful arrests, Cops being morons (sorry cops of tumblr), Inappropriate Courtroom conduct (sort of), Mean teachers, mean classmates, Depiction of drug addiction, Explicit Smut, Protected Sex, Consent taking (Yes, that is a thing, a good thing), Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Profanity.

A/N: I just...it’s Jungkook guys.

“You’ve got to be joking!” Your sharp voice cracked across the desk over to your boss and friend, Shin Yuna.

Her eyebrows rose, hands coming down to brush against the beige blazer she had on, “No, not really.”

You looked down at her posh office then back at the equally posh woman in front of you. “Since, when have we needed Of Counsels?” You asked.

“We don’t; but this isn’t my prerogative. It’s Hyejong. She thinks we need a broader outlook on a few of our cases.”

You could tell Yuna was trying hard not to roll her eyes at that statement. If there was someone who was even surer of her capabilities than you, it would be Shin Yuna.

“I see,” You mumbled.

Yuna gave you a second or two of an unreadable stare, one that you were well familiar with during your time watching her in the courtroom. It was challenging, goading; it made you want to snap. You couldn’t count how many people had cracked in the stands under that gaze.

You, however, were just feeling nervous.

“What is there, something else?”

“I think it would be best if you got it from me lest you get a nasty shock during the first meet. The Of Counsel is Jeon Jungkook.”

You stared at Yuna.

“Jeon Jungkook…as in…”

“Jeon Jungkook; the successful prodigy of Min Associates; Yoongi is very kindly letting him fly solo and rightfully so. The man has been winning almost all his cases since Min put him in the chair.”

“Yeah, even against us.” You reminded her.

Your mind went back to where you and he had last met. The courtroom, of course, with his and your staff surrounding you as you laid your defense. The judge passed the sentence, in Jeon’s favor of course and you watched the client, your charge of a few weeks now, be dragged away…again.

The last thing you remembered was the smug beam on Jeon’s face as he shook hands with his congratulators.

“Yes, even against us, this is why Hyejong wants him with us on the defense this time. If we can remove him from the prosecutor’s choice, we can get our client off.”

“Do you think that we can’t do it without him?” You asked.

“I couldn’t say. The only way to know is you. You are our first choice of Defense, Y/N. You’re smart, and you know how to bend the rules, manipulate the jury, and work the loopholes. You’re one of our best. The only thing you have to do is…work as best as you can with Jeon. I know you don’t like him.”

“With reason; he’s egotistical and -,”

“And knows what he’s doing…please, try to be patient.” Yuna cut you off to add and you sighed, slumping against the leather chair.

“There’s another thing.” Yuna said, shuffling a few pens on her desk.

“I’ve spoken to Hyejong and we agree that it’s time that our firm has a few changes. We’re sponsoring a few interns who will become advocates, lawyers and attorneys soon enough and we need to manage them as well. For that, we need someone who knows the ways of this Office well. Hyejong retired from the court long enough ago to handle that. So, we have agreed it’s time to pick our Junior Partner.”

You looked up quickly at that, making Yuna smile.

“Yes, I know, it’s a step towards your ambition and since you’re the only active attorney in our firm, you are the natural choice. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have to work for it. Earn it,” she stressed.

“Of course,” You mumbled, a wave of giddiness swiping thoughts of Jeon Jungkook out of your mind.

“Your first step would be to handle this case in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.”

…and those thoughts were back.

The wood of the conference table felt smooth under your palm, fingers trailing over the filigree traced into the dark oak and the faux leather of your folders.

The atmosphere in the room was tense at your end, your secretary Mina leaning in to whisper to you.

“What are we actually waiting for?” she asked.

You cast a glance at the rest of the members in the room. Hyejong was staring at her nails, Yuna out the window. The last participant present was a young, bright man who worked in the tech and investigation department of your firm.

Jung Hoseok looked up from his phone at your perusal of his pushed back hair, and graffiti shirt and shot you a wink. You rolled your eyes pointedly before looking at Mina.

“For Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin,”

“It’s 9:13,” she whispered.

“Yes, Mina, turns out our new colleagues don’t respect punctuality.” You murmured.

You were hoping you hadn’t been loud but Hyejong turned her sleek head towards you.

“Y/N, I expect some manners from you!” she admonished.

“Yes, Miss Shin,” you demurred even as Hyejong continued. “At least when the man gets here,”

You caught Yuna throwing you a quick smile just as the door opened with a brisk knock.

Jeon Jungkook entered the room in all his glory, a waft of high-end cologne reaching your nose. You kept your eyes focused on your portfolio, catching the glimpses of his branded suit and perfect glossy hair when you darted them once across the room.

“I hope I’m not too late. I had to visit with Mr. Min before and it took longer than I expected.” You heard the voice come from the front of the room, following Hyejong’s prim voice quickly putting him at ease.

“Fantastic, I brought Jimin with me already so if you’re ready we can start with the primary discussion.” Jeon continued.

“Of course, we have Miss Y/L/N leading the defense; you’ll be working with her.” Yuna said and there was a pause in which Mina quickly prodded you.

You stood up, finally making eye contact with the handsome man who had begun to walk up to you with his hand extended.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s good to meet you out of the stands.” He joked.

You smiled back politely, feeling the gaze of everyone in the room fixed on you. “Likewise, Mr. Jeon, I hope you enjoy working with us.” You said.

“I am very sure I will, Miss Y/L/N.”

He smiled again when you shook your hands and then sat down into the seat next to you, gesturing for the man with him to come over and sit in the one next to him.

Jimin, round cheeked and plump lipped, gave you a dazzling smile that you happily returned before following his boss’s directions.

“So, what are the premises?” Jeon asked.

Yuna looked at you and you opened your files.

“Lee Jiyoon, 24 years old Biochemistry student was arrested with white substances that upon arrest and examination were found to be cocaine. Amount was alarmingly over the normal rates sold on the streets under patrol watch. Miss Lee has pleaded innocence in the face of being unaware that the white stuff was drugs and to look for the man she had been dating for only a couple months.”

“She’s a biochemistry student? Didn’t she wonder what the substance was?” Jeon cut in.

“She says she didn’t even open the bag. She was just going to dump out the things he’d left behind when he wouldn’t return her calls and the patrol cops caught her in the park near the trashcans.”

“They wouldn’t believe that she was just dumping out an ex’s belongings?”

“They had sniff-dogs and that alerted them. A check later she was taken in.”

Jeon put his fingers to his chin.

“She called for the attorney?” He asked.

“No,” Yuna put in. “I don’t think she would’ve been able to afford us. We were called in by the DA to act as defense.”

Jeon nodded.

“Well, seems straightforward enough. Should we go visit the girl?” he asked.

You glanced at your bosses before nodding, standing up with the others. Mina began to wrap up your things as Hoseok introduced himself to Jeon when Hyejong spoke up again.

“Mr. Jeon, we’ve assigned you an office next to Y/N’s. You’ll show him the way, won’t you?” She asked and you forced a bright smile, nodding as Mina and Hoseok followed the women out.

Yuna didn’t look back at you as the door shut and you were left with Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.

There was a split second of a pause as the final swing of the closing door ended before you turned to the two men.

“If you would follow me, gentlemen,” You walked around the table and let yourself out, taking the familiar path to the hallway of private offices.

The Firm building was separated into three floors, the highest one belonging to the bosses while the second was for attorneys and business spaces and the lowest level was for techs.

Jeon sped up a little to fall into step with you.

“So, Miss Y/L/N, I hope that we’ll be able to work together smoothly.” He said.

You threw him a side eye.

“Has there been an indication to otherwise?” You asked.

“No, no, it’s that simply I’ve found I’m not usually well received by the ones I’ve won against.” He said.

You bristled at the underlying hints of condescension in his tone.

“Well,” You paused in front of the door to the office next to yours. It was emptied recently and cleaned out, perhaps for Jeon already. “You’ll find me completely amicable. We’re going to go visit the client in an hour without the secretaries this time.” You informed him before walking to your own office, taking care not to obviously slam the door shut.

The seating of the prison meeting room was all cold steel and though you were experienced in sitting in them for a long time now, you could never really get used to it.

Your eyes wandered to the black mirror on your side and caught Jeon’s refection. He’d been silent all through the drive to the Prison house, eyebrows drawn slightly together and a muscle in his jaw tense. You had to be lying if you said you didn’t find that jaw clench attractive.

You turned your head back to the front again just as Jeon’s eyes found the mirror as well, meeting yours for a split second.

Just then, the locked door to the room opened and Lee Jiyoon was led in.

You hadn’t been able to get her off on Parole, since drug trafficking was a serious crime but you had been able to get her away from the real inmates, putting her in the in-house arrest of the prison itself. She was allowed to keep her own clothes and had most basic privileges in the house but unless you could get her off she was still basically a criminal to them.

The green tips of her hair looked frizzed and unkempt as she sat down with a thump, the long chains around her wrist undone by the security before moving to the back corner.

You saw her glance once at Jeon and looked at him to see him looking at the security before turning his eyes to you, nodding for you to start.

“How are you, Jiyoon?” you started.

“Feeling like I got arrested for something I didn’t do,” she replied dryly and you smiled, lips pressing together.

“You won’t have to be here for very long.” You tried to reassure and she shrugged.

“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to have someone try to get me off the charges but I guess it’s nice that you are. I’ve heard you’re good.” She said.

“Everyone has the right to ask for a lawyer. Weren’t you read your rights when you got arrested?” Jeon cut in.

“It wouldn’t matter. I was panicking when they cuffed me. I really don’t remember much about anything once I was brought in.” Jiyoon said.

You made a note in the edge of your pad about talking to the arresting officer.

“If you weren’t read your rights, you’re technically not supposed to be here.” Jeon said.

“It’s my word against theirs anyway. I want to know if you’ve found that shit bag Kinjo.” Jiyoon asked.

You sighed.

“We had a sighting a few days ago. Looks like he tried to make a run for it; we have the police in a few states alert to where he might go to.”

“Good, he deserves to be pissing in a metal pot, living in a room with four other people, not me.”

“We’re doing everything we can. The best chance we have is pleading an emotional case. The jury is likely going to go for sympathy for a girl who was throwing her ex’s things away.”

“I don’t know about that. How many people are going to believe that someone like me got emotional over a guy in two months?” Jiyoon rolled her eyes.

“In any case, play to your femininity. This is really not the place to argue feminism. This is just about getting you out of the court and having your name cleared.” Jeon put in.

Jiyoon stared at your colleague a few seconds before looking at you.

“Who are you, again?”

“Jeon Jungkook, I’m providing assistance to Y/N on your case.”

Jiyoon narrowed her eyes before shrugging. “Whatever; when will you next come?” she asked.

“For now this is out last visit, we’ll see you in court on the day of the first trial but your mother is going to be visiting and bringing a few things. Stay safe,” You said, getting to your feet, Jeon following.

“Right…I don’t want her to see me like this but I guess I can’t choose.” Jiyoon looked at the bulky guard who moved to bind her wrists again and you offered her an encouraging nod as she was led away again.

“So, what did you think?” You asked, driving back to the office with Jeon looking over your notes from the previous sessions with the client.

Jeon hummed and you turned to look at him.

“Mr. Jeon,” you called for his attention again.

“It’s a little early for me to form solid assumptions.” He muttered.

“So…is that your way of saying you don’t think she’s innocent?” You asked.

Jeon looked at you. “You’re a lawyer, Y/N. Is that how you read between the lines?”

You decided to ignore the jibe.

“The first trial is in two days. I just want to know whether I have to waste time convincing you of her innocence.” You grumbled.

“Come now, Y/N, in our profession, when has anyone ever been truly innocent?” He smirked and you spent a few extra seconds on time looking at him before sighing and looking to the front again, back to ignoring him.

“Nice job at the defense,” you looked up to see Jeon Jungkook standing over where you were busy filling out some paperwork in the hall of the court room.

You looked back down.

“Thank you, congratulations on the win.” You returned politely.

“Thanks…mind if I sit?” He continued.

“Be my guest,”

Jeon sat down next to you, unbuttoning the suit jacket he had on and leaned back sighing. “That was one tough case. You nearly beat me there.” He said. A subtle hint of flowers reached you but you continued working the pen.

“Well, you won. Another meat suit for the prison,” you mumbled.

He chuckled. “Are you bitter, Miss Y/L/N? I assure you, you don’t need to be. A few years down the line, you might be glad he’s behind bars. Once a man has gotten taste of vice, he rarely ever lets it go.” Jeon said philosophically.

You finally looked up at the gorgeous man next to you.

The first time you’d ever seen Jeon Jungkook was when you were under Yuna’s wing, learning from the very best in your opinion.

She’d been up against Min Yoongi, acting prosecutor in his days and under his wing was the exceptionally bright and handsome Jeon Jungkook, with his soft edged face, doe eyes and a floppy mass of hair. He also smelled very nice, floral and soft.

He’d been so cute; you’d blushed when Yuna and Yoongi had introduced you two, the long standing friends hoping their charges would maybe hit it off.

You would have, if not for your stupid crush, long gone now that you had been losing your cases to him. The amount of wins you had was laughably low to the ones you’d lost against him and while you had a generous reputation in the up and coming law community, Jeon was a stellar genius.

Now, Jungkook had definitely grown into his own, refining with age. His softness hadn’t completely gone, the curve of his lips bore testimony of that and the big nose and eyes were still there, but now he had a jaw line to kill for and his hair was so perfectly styled, it drove a person to want to mess it up just for sadistic pleasure.

And you still liked looking at him…

All in all, Jeon Jungkook was your favorite but worst nightmare.

“You’re very down on your sex, aren’t you?” you asked.

He shrugged a smile on his face. “I am, I’ve seen the worst specimens after all. We all need a better half to keep us in line.”

You rolled your eyes at the line and he quickly shook his head.

“I’m not trying to be sexist. I’m just saying that no one on this planet, not even women, I’m sorry, is completely innocent.”

“Very biblically primitive of you,”

“It does have a few points of note.” Jeon looked down at his watch before up at you.

“I would love to continue this but I have another meeting to get to. Maybe we should meet sometime, have dinner or something.” He suggested.

“Sure,” you muttered watching him leave. It took you a minute to realize that Jeon had taken the soft smell of flowers with him.

Neither of you reached out for that dinner or something sometime.

“We never did get to do that dinner.”

You glanced at Jeon, jumping out of your own similar thought. Was he thinking of that too?

“We got busy.”

“Yes, I’d still like to have that in my schedule though.” Jeon answered and you laughed.

“Smooth Jeon,”

Jeon put his head back to the headrest, head turned in your direction. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

You frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen you around me. You get all stiff and formal with me and you don’t really smile all that much. I know you think I’m egotistical and smug. The only times we’ve had a normal conversation, I can count on one finger.”

You raised your eyebrows.

Looks like you weren’t all that discreet in your actions.

And now you couldn’t help but feel a little bad…

“I don’t mean to do that, Jeon. You’re exceptionally good at the job, I respect you for that. Just because I’ve lost a few cases to you doesn’t mean I’m going to let my emotions control my intelligence. I don’t completely hate you.”

“Completely…?” Jeon picked and you had to laugh again.

“Maybe I did think you were a little egotistical and smug, Jeon.” You allowed.

“Call me Jungkook. We should try finding out the judge too, if he’s someone I know, we can easily influence the case.”

You blinked at how fast he changed the subject.

“Isn’t that...wrong?” you frowned.

“It won’t matter once I win this case for you.” He said, going back to the notes and your hold tightened on the wheel.

“Will the judge allow for Kinjo to be tried in place of Jiyoon?”

“Oh well, I guess we can find out when I help you win this case.”

You pursed your lips at the 180. His ego definitely wasn’t that little.

Mina was already waiting for you when you entered your office and took off you coat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your coffee handed to you as you sat behind your desk.

“So, how did it go?” she asked.

You leant back into the plushy chair and closed your eyes for a second.

“It was normal. There might be a point to pursue about whether or not Jiyoon was read her rights when she was arrested. Have Hoseok look into it,” you told her.

“Right,” Mina quickly wrote it down.

“And where are we with the boyfriend?”

“We had a sighting in Busan but we still need to process some paperwork before we can extricate him. I told Miss Yuna and she’s doing it now.”

“Good,”

“And…?”

You looked around to your secretary in question. “And what,”

“How did it go with Jungkook?” Mina broached.

You blinked.

“It was fine.” You said, wheeling the chair closer to the desk and opening your laptop.

“Just fine…?”

You shot her a look. “What do you want me to say, Mina?”

“Didn’t he do anything? He looks like he’s into you. No flirting?”

Your gaze turned sharp.

“Mina,” you warned.

“Oh come on Y/N, I can tell. I’ve been your secretary for two years now and we’ve been around Jeon Jungkook long enough. He’s into you. Badly,”

You looked down to your emails, ignoring your heated cheeks. “I gave you some work to do, I believe. Don’t forget Jeon Jungkook is here at the moment. You don’t want him to hear these assumptions.”

“Or…maybe that’s exactly what he wants,”

“Enough Mina, leave the sleuthing to Jung and get back to work.”

Mina slumped in her seat, pouting at you before sighing, pushing herself up and out of your cabin.

You watched the door shut before taking in a deep breath, opening the first of many emails to reply.

The court room – a familiar setting to you – almost as familiar as your home, was lightly buzzing by the collecting group of people required for trial.

Jiyoon and you had discussed at the first appearance about whom and what to call on and you were glad to see your words had struck true. Jiyoon’s mother and brother were present at the front of the public seating, looking rightfully worried.

The attorney seats comprised of Yuna, Mina and you, Jeon and Hoseok right behind you.

The judge’s bench was empty and you turned to throw Jungkook a questioning glance. Jeon met it with pursed lips, not choosing to say anything.

You turned to look at the prosecution instead.

The sight of Kim Namjoon sitting in the front chair made you start just a little when the call for rise came.

The room stood up and an elegant woman with wrapped hair in a bun entered, wearing the judge’s gown and taking her seat.

You clicked your tongue mentally. She was unfamiliar, must be new.

“Take a seat, folks.” She called out as you regained your seats.

She ruffled her papers in a flurry then looked up.

“The case for Lee Jiyoon against State begins now.”

Jiyoon sat in the neatest attire they’d managed to show that she was a respectable person and not a lowly drug dealer.

Namjoon, tall and impeccable as usual walked up to her.

“Please state your name for the record, Miss.” He began.

Off it went.

Namjoon had called in the arresting officer, one of Jiyoon’s teachers and a classmate, one that Jiyoon looked confused and outraged had come to testify against.

“Are you the officer who responded first to Miss Lee’s suspicious activity caught by the sniff dogs?”

“Can you describe her behavior that night?”

The cop went into detail about how Jiyoon looked dazed and scared that night, insisting that it was a sign of her guilt.

Even as he questioned the teacher, it seemed they all thought that it was possible since she might have ‘strayed’ after her dad left her mom. The class mate went on about her boyfriend looking not quite right.

You clicked your pen, signaling to Mina.

She leant in.

“I want you to dig into the teacher and this girl, everything from grudges to grades, I want It.” you mumbled to her. Your secretary nodded.

“No more questions, you honor.” Namjoon turned finally, nodding at you.

“The defendant may ask the witnesses questions.” The judge said.

You stood up, brushing the edge of your skirt before calling for the cop.

“Officer Chui, you’re the leader for the night time patrol, correct?” you asked.

The man nodded, looking disinterested at the cross-examination.

“Right and how many kids have you seen in the park at that time matching Miss Lee’s description?”

He glanced at Jiyoon sitting at your side and shrugged. “A few,”

“Would you say that they all looked uneasy at the sight of you?”

He snorted. “Kids always have something to hide. So yeah,”

“So, seeing that you knew that, why would you assume that Jiyoon was particularly guilty of a drug crime?”

Chui paused, looking uncertain for a second.

“She was throwing things out of a suitcase. The sniff dogs caught a scent.”

“Why did you go to her in the first place?”

“I…don’t know.”

You glanced at the jury.

“Officer, did you read her, her rights when you cuffed the defendant?” You finally asked and the man paled.

“I’m sure I must have.” He mumbled.

“Are you? Are you really sure, because the rest of your men don’t recall anything of that sort. Without the rights read, my client shouldn’t have been in the containment she was put in.”

“She called for you right? She has a lawyer so I must have said she had right to an attorney.”

“How long have you been with the Drug Patrol, Officer Chui?”

“Objection,” Namjoon called finally, his deep voice calm but audible across the room. I turned to look at him. “What is the Relevance?”

“Relevant, your honor,” you cut in immediately. “A man with a shorter period of work experience will often make mistakes, small or big, like forgetting to read the rights.” You moved away from the Officer to pull up a sheet of his data, handing it to the Judge’s clerk.

“The records say he’s been with night duty for only half a year. He was coined Chief because the department of the area is new and they didn’t have a lot of people to pick from. Mr. Chui was the longest there.”

“It must have slipped my mind but she got them at the establishment. She was told she could get an attorney.”

“Miss Lee, was this before or after interrogation?” The judge finally asked.

“After, your honor,” she replied meekly.

“Anything said during that examination is nullified then.” You pointed out.

The Officer stared up at you, gaping.

You sighed to yourself. First step was getting the evidence against Jiyoon thrown out. Thanks to Chui, that had been made possible. Now only to get the jury to believe she was completely clean. You’d have to know about the two witnesses.

“Does the defendant have any more questions?”

“That will be,” you began when another voice spoke up from behind you.

“Actually, your honor I would like to call for the second witness. I have a few questions for her.”

You swiveled around to see Jeon walked over to the front. His eyes were intense, staring you down to let him do this and you glanced at Yuna who quickly nodded.

Returning the nod, you gave up the stage to Jeon; catching Namjoon’s puzzled look but unable to answer it as you sat down.

“What the hell is he doing?” You asked Mina

“I don’t know boss, I really don’t.”

The woman came into the stands, looking equal amounts excited and nervous at the prospect of Jeon Jungkook. You scoffed lightly but you couldn’t blame her.

“Your name is Park Cheri of Dais Academy?” Jungkook began.

She nodded, mumbling out a yes.

“Can you tell me about your relationship with Miss Lee?”

You leaned back in your seat as the woman talked about being her Chemistry teacher since the beginning of her studies, giving a few details here and there of her life that you turned to Jiyoon for. The fearful nod of her head confirmed your fears.

“So, you have a habit of talking with all your students like that and pry into them?”

“Objection, Mr. Jeon, the point of the question?” Namjoon spoke up again.

“Point, Mr. Kim is that we just found out that Miss Lee’s evidences are dismissed due to her Miranda rights. It isn’t fair for a teacher, someone who is supposed to be in a position of confidence to come and try to give assumptive testimony.”

“I am not.”

“So, then are you a psychologist?”

“No,”

“Then what makes you so sure of Miss Lee’s mindset due to her parents’ separation?”

“Every child is…”

“Has Miss Lee shown signs of such behaviors before?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Jungkook looked at the now muttering jury and then at you, a raised eyebrow and smirk accompanying.

“So, then maybe you shouldn’t try to use information like that to gain a few minutes of popularity without properly verifying it, should you?”

“Your honor, Mr. Jeon is being insulting.” Namjoon stood up, frowning.

“Retracted, Your honor,” Jungkook smiled pleasantly at the woman who looked furious now, glaring at the suited man as she was excused by the judge before announcing a date for the next session.

The room began to flood and even as you stood up; you saw Jeon looking pleased with himself, as usual, grinning up at Yoongi and Kim Seokjin, Namjoon’s older brother and owner of Kim Co.

“Wow,” you heard Hoseok say behind you before popping a bubble and you turned to seethe at the man.

“Y/N,”

You turned your companion of the night with a smile, raising your arms up around his neck for a brief hug.

“Hi Joon,”

“It’s been a while, how have you been?” He asked, pulling away from you to pull out a chair for you, letting you slide in.

“I’ve been fine. What about you?” you asked as Kim Namjoon sat down in front of you.

He’d ditched the suit jacket and tie, loosening the top few buttons of his shirt, glasses gone and you had to be honest, a tousled Namjoon looked even better than his put together self.

“Can’t complain, busy as hell, you know how it is.”

You did know.

That had been one of the reasons why you and he had to break up.

Kim Namjoon was the middle child of Kim Co. He and his two brothers were born to be lawyers it would seem. You and he had met in law school, hitting it off immediately. You’d been best friend till dating had seemed to come as easy as your friendship.

Your whirlwind romance had lasted for a very long time, rose colored glasses on both your eyes. He was smart, kind, highly knowledgeable and you were sweet, patient, firm in your ideas and grounding. Together you had been invincible and when you’d gotten your degree and entered work life, the cloud of marriage loomed closer than ever.

Of course, real life knocked some sense into both of you as work schedules clashed and you both decided to call a much needed break.

That didn’t mean your friendship suffered. Namjoon was still your dearest best friend and you held the same spot for him.

Drinks in hand, you began to talk about anything that was unrelated to your case, his booming laughter echoing when you admitted you’d hoped it would be his youngest brother, Taehyung who would be prosecuting.

“He’s still getting the ropes, love.” Namjoon chortled in explanation before sobering.

“So, Jeon, huh?” he asked.

You pointed you glass at him. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Really, I remember him being the topic of most of our bedroom rants.” He grinned.

“Shut up, Joon.” You smacked at his arm just as he pulled it away.

“I’m serious. I was really surprised when I saw him on the Counsel. I didn’t think Yuna would ever pull it and I was ever surer you wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Yuna promised me if I got this case working beside Jeon done smoothly, I’d be considered for Junior Partner and at this moment, winning is in the pocket because I’m the only attorney there with the highest commendation.”

Namjoon nodded as he swigged at the Old Fashioned again.

“You’re as ambitious as when we met.” He commented.

“Not all of us are born into the Law Family who owns the best Firm in the city.” You smiled teasingly.

“Hey, I work as hard as you do, thank you very much.” He pointed at the bar tender for new drinks.

You stared at him as he mumbled to the tender when he glanced at you again.

“Don’t check me out. It’s weird.”

“You’re weird.” You countered very eloquently then grunted in displeasure, looking down at the fresh drink in front of you. “Ugh, I hate getting drunk.”

“We’re lawyers’ babe, but we don’t always have to be at the game. Just relax.” Namjoon slurred and you watched as he looked startled at his own tongue before looking down at his new drink as well.

“Let’s just get a taxi home.” You both said out loud together before grinning woozily at each other.

The patter of pressed keys filled the softly lit space of your office as you typed out a session report for Jiyoon’s case. Your eyes were getting harder to keep open even as you did your best to focus on the blinding white of the screen page when the knock came.

You frowned. You had sent Mina on home an hour ago.

“Who is it?” you called first.

“It’s me,” you heard Jeon Jungkook reply and you huffed in confusion. What was he doing here at this hour?

“Come in.”

Your counselor walked in, probably looking just as you felt. The shine of his hair had dimmed, eyes looking darker, or maybe that was just the ambience of your office.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Reports; what about you?” you leaned back in your chair.

“I was catching on a few of your last reports. Ones where Jiyoon told you whatever she knew about that deadbeat drug man and I saw lights on here.” he told you, taking a seat at one of your chairs.

“Did you find anything?”

“I don’t know just yet, we’ll have to wait.”

You stared at him.

“Sure,” you returned to your work and he paused.

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

“Sure,” you repeated.

Jeon stood up, moving to your table to place the tips of his fingers near your elbow.

“Are you upset about the teacher?” he asked, inquisitively.

“Why would I be upset about that? You took hold of my interrogation and it worked well for you, didn’t it?”

You knew your passive-aggressiveness was getting you nowhere. Either Jeon was too tired to understand what was wrong or you weren’t being mean enough.

In any case he pulled away, shrugging powerful shoulders under his unbuttoned suit jacket.

“Alright, I just wanted to let you know that you should lead with the girl tomorrow, before bringing Jiyoon in for questioning again.”

“I know; the girl is a problem. Mina brought me her details and she has no idea what’s coming for her tomorrow.”

Jeon looked down, a smile blooming across his lips.

I’m probably going to be a little late tomorrow to the hearing.”

You hated it but your eyes snapped up to his.

“Why are you going to be late?”

He watched your face slump a tiny bit and smirked, reaching up to loosen his tie as well. The action was simple, yet you could feel your throat close up.

“Told you, I’m going to win your case for you,”

With that, he was marching out of your office, a taps of his dress shoes fading from the wooden floors as far as you could tell before piercing silence fell again.

You glanced at your laptop, feeling drained then at your empty coffee cup.

Your report could wait, your mind blatantly told you and your fingers moved, snapping the lip of the laptop down with no shame.

Grabbing your work files and stashing them into your briefcase, you lunged out the door, eager to get home to your bed when you caught a flash of color in Jeon’s open office door.

Backing a few steps, you stared at the small pot of blue azaleas nestling in the corner of his desk before you shrugged to yourself, feet picking up the journey to the elevator again.

True to his word, Jeon Jungkook was late to the courtroom.

Yuna, sitting beside you again, turned her stern questioning gaze to you and you offered her a small, ‘He’s just running a bit late,’ before you had to stand for the judge and the hearing’s second day began.

Namjoon was back to his best again and while you and he exchanged a small smile during the lull of conversation, both of you became professional real quick.

He didn’t have any questions today, turning cross-examination to you and you were more than ready as you called for Jiyoon’s classmate.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Son Susie,”

“Right, Susie, you’re Miss Lee’s classmate, correct?”

“Yes,”

You glanced down at the heaps of fliers in your hand.

“How close would you say you are to Miss Lee?”

She glanced at Jiyoon at the bench who was daring her to lie with her eyes.

“Not really all that to her, but I know the boyfriend.” She said.

You glanced at Namjoon, a small nod in his direction.

“Miss Son, this trial is for Miss Jiyoon Lee, not the boyfriend. Why would you apply with Counselor Kim for this testimony?” you asked.

“I…look, Kinjo is bad, ok? Anybody affiliating with him must be too.”

There was a pause and you chanced a look of disbelief on the judge’s face, using it to fuel your punch.

“So, you made a guess as to Miss Lee’s innocence?”

“Your honor,” Namjoon called but you beat him to it.

“I’ll rephrase that. Why did you not tell Mr. Kim you were one of Kinjo’s ‘affiliations’?

The blow had landed. You could see the jury had put its heads together. You held in your grin, knowing Namjoon probably had his head in his hands, figuratively at least.

“I…we broke up.”

“He dumped you. For Jiyoon; would you say this was your shot at revenge? Or were you really concerned about Miss Jiyoon’s future?”

“Objection,”

“Retracted; do you have any concrete proof of Miss Lee’s misconduct?”

She was quiet for a bit, even after you repeated the question and she sighed.

“No, for the record I really thought he must’ve turned her into a drug peddler when they were dating.” She said.

“The session is based on facts, Miss Son, not your thoughts.” This time it was the judge. “We will dismiss this witness of yours, Counselor Kim.” She told Namjoon.

You were backing away to the seats again when Jimin leaned over to you a mumbled word in his voice.

“Jungkook is here, Miss Y/L/N. He wants to show the courtroom something on your behalf.”

You turned a puzzled look at Jimin before nodding and standing.

“Your honor, we have some evidence we would like to enter into consideration.”

“What more could there be?” Namjoon stood up as well.

“The perpetrator himself, Mr. Kim,” The voice came from the doors where you turned to see Jungkook, perfect as usual striding towards the front, two officers holding a cuffed bedraggled man with them.

His face was swollen, eyes bloodshot and skin pale.

“Kinjo,” you heard Jiyoon gasp and Jungkook nodded.

“We found the man himself responsible for this your Honor. He was good at hiding but not that good when you’re high as a kite.”

There was a flurry of movement as people began to fidget in their seats to get a good look at the man.

You glanced at Jungkook, jaw dropped even as he smiled, teeth on display, childishly pleased.

The car drew into one of the open guest parking spots of the apartment and you glanced down at your phone, making sure that this was indeed where Jeon lived.

Getting out you pulled your coat tighter around you before walking to the double doors of the apartment building, giving your name and contact before moving to the elevators, taking it right up to his floor.

Your mind flowed in contemplation, chalking up exactly what you were going to say to him. He hadn’t told you about anything before going up against the teacher, he hadn’t told you about going after Kinjo, finding him and now you wanted an explanation.

You were the face defendant here and you had a right to know what he was up to.

You made a final check of Jungkook’s address before shoving the phone away for good, taking a deep breath, facing his mahogany door. Your hand rose before raining a light drizzle of knocks on it, drawing back quickly.

It took a second, his voice calling out from inside to wait and you did before the door swung inside, revealing a rumpled Jeon Jungkook, a simple black t-shirt and sweats on him, a far cry from how he’s usually dressed for work. Glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose.

“Y/N,” he frowned, opening the door a bit more, “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“Are you busy, I need to talk to you about something?” you asked in turn.

“Yeah sure,” he moved away, opening the door further to let you in and you moved into his apartment, hearing him close and bolt the door.

You stood with your back to him, studying his home as he set up the security.

Jeon Jungkook’s private space was just like him; neat, organized and gleaming with proper care. It was nice to see he wasn’t a complete frat boy with his house. There were familiar blue azaleas scattered through some nooks and a pleasant smell drifted from them.

Now you knew why he always smelled so floral.

You turned to see him move away from the door, running his hands over the back of his sweats to his waist.

“Yeah, so what’s wrong?”

“What are you trying to do?” you asked, filter less as usual.

He tilted his head in question and you sighed in annoyance.

“The case, Jeon; you didn’t confer with me about the teacher, about Kinjo, you didn’t confer with me about anything. You just barged into my case like it was yours and I don’t even know why you’re doing it. Is it to make me look bad or something? Do you want people to think I’m stupid? Or is it purely selfish, you want people to think you’re so smart?”

“Whoa, back it up there.”

Jungkook moved closer to you, frown etching deeper into his brows. “What do you think is happening here? I’m not doing anything like that.”

“Then what is it that you’re doing?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t ‘confer’ with you about the teacher because it struck me on the spot and I didn’t have time to talk it out with you and neither did I want to drag it out for another session. It’s a small case, Y/N, it’s better to wash our hands of it faster so Jiyoon can go back clean.”

“What about Kinjo?”

Jungkook sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders. You shot his hands a glance but he didn’t remove them.

“That’s on me, I’ll admit. I had Jimin go on with Hoseok to look for him from day one. When Jimin told me they’d had a hit, I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I had some proof.”

“So, you just dragged Kinjo right into the courtroom, without telling me.”

“Yes, that was stupid but I just…” he trailed off, looking around his house once before at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I just wanted to impress you.”

You froze, looking at him with wide eyes.

No, he did not just…

“You what?” you asked sharply, certain that you had lost your hearing and he let out a pointed exhale.

“Call it stupid, but I’ve always been doing shit to impress you.”

You stared at him, still shell shocked, your mind rewinding to each overconfident grin he’d ever shot your way after his wins and he expected you to believe that he was trying to impress you?

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You call that impressing me?” You shook his hands from your shoulders, stepping far away from his hold.

Jungkook didn’t follow, choosing to watch as you paced.

“You were fine when we met. I thought you were cute at first then you turned into a smug, overconfident jackass almost overnight. Each and every case you’ve won against me, you’ve rubbed in my face and you really thought that your Gaston act impressed anyone, let alone me?”

“You thought I was cute?” he asked instead, a small smile brushing by his soft lips that I wiped off by smacking his chest.

“You aren’t anymore.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” He scoffed, grabbing your hand. “You can’t tell me I’ve never once made you look twice at me. I know you have.”

You scowled heavily at him, trying to tug your hand back.

“Not for the reasons you think,”

He rolled his eyes in turn, using the hand in his grip to pull you swiftly against him, his hard chest pressing against yours as he wound his free arm around your waist, holding you in place.

“Then enlighten me,” he whispered.

You sucked in a breath, outrage ready to pour at him when he dipped his head, too quick for you to stop and pressed his lips against yours, drowning all the rages you could’ve hurled at him.

Your words guzzled out, a squeak replacing them as your own free hand came up to bunch the fabric at his shoulder. He pulled away, too fast for you to have gotten in and grinned at you.

“Did that impress you, Counselor?”

“Fuck you, Jeon.” You snarled, breaking his hold on you to grab his face between your hands, pulling his face down to kiss him properly, mouth open and teeth clashing once, twice before a tandem took its place, slow but rough.

“Oh I plan to let you do that.” He muttered against your mouth, his own hands coming up to cup your face, pulling away to peck at your lips, tugging your bottom petal between his mouth, leaving a stroke of his tongue on it.

You keened into him, balling the material of his shirt, feeling him guide you to the back of the couch, propping you against it.

“I’m thinking you didn’t plan to have sex with me tonight?” Jungkook asked, suddenly pulling away to give you a dilated look. You stuttered a little, blinking before looking down at your outfit.

“Clearly not,”

Jungkook looked conflicted and you gave him a warning tilt of eyebrow. “Are you going to pack me up and send me off to home?” you asked.

He laughed, hands possessively gripping you to him.

“Sure, and miss this…? I’ll be damned. No, I’m just thinking of the hearing tomorrow and time.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll get home early.”

Jungkook let out a pained growl, running his lips down your jaw line. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Are you planning on continuing this or not, Jeon?” you asked, finally.

“I definitely am, provided you let me take you out on a date tomorrow and we’ll see where it leads.”

You gave him a scrutinizing look before shrugging and Jungkook lunged for you, kisses hot and heavy again.

Your eyes fell closed, heart rocketing in your chest as Jungkook’s fingers reached the top of your coat, lifting the flaps to drop them on his couch.

Jungkook trailed a finger, the tickling sensation trickling slowly towards the buttons, dipping into your cleavage. He hissed. “Take your top off,” he said, disentangling himself from you to take a couple steps back, eyeing your chest.

You followed the same line he had made you, dipping you own fingers to the plunge as well, keeping his eyes there as you started to pop open buttons, each inch of skin exposed scorching immediately under Jungkook’s searing gaze. You let the shirt slip off your shoulders, aiming to be dainty and it fell away from your skin, landing on the sofa as well.

Jungkook was already moving even as the fabric left you, his own hands gripping the edge of his own shirt and lifting it over his head. The smooth planes of his stomach caught the shine of his ambient lighting and while he wasn’t muscular, he definitely took care of himself.

The defined abdomen clenched under your scrutiny and you reach out, placing a hand on the hot skin there, running it higher up his chest to curl around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him again.

The kiss was breathier than before, his hot exhale caressing your lips as he dragged his hands down to your legs, hoisting them up and around his waist.

You let out a squeal, feeling him chuckle at your reaction as he tracked a path to what you supposed was his bed room.

Sleek reds and grays, he nudged you down into the foamy mattress, keeping the lights down to a bare minimum.

“Nice house,” you complimented when he returned to you and he grinned.

“I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow,” he said, before his lips took over your own again, tongue softly lapping at the seal of your mouth, asking for permission.

Even as you teased him with no entrance, he was moving to the button of your pants, a quick flick of his fingers undoing them before they were crawling down, taking the trousers off with them. Your teasing, soon changed to a soft whimper when his fingers met the line of your panties; tugging at them to snap back against your skin and you gasped at the sudden move, letting him enter your mouth with a wide grin.

You hiked your legs up, clasping them around the back of his knees when he threw off the material and he took the hint, beginning to push you back to rest against the pillows.

He pulled away, eyeing you lying in his bed before he held up a finger, crawling towards one of the nightstands, most likely to fetch a condom.

You smirked, sitting up to undo your bra and slid your panties off quickly, tossing them to the floor while he turned, glasses gone, eyes blowing open wide to see you spread your legs for him.

“Wow,” was all he said, quickly crawling back to you, condom thrown to a side as he placed a hand on the hot skin of your thigh, running it up to the apex, before chancing a look up at you.

“May I touch you?” He asked.

You smiled up at the nervous glint in his eyes. “Yes,”

Fingers entered you with no more hesitation, making a loud groan erupt from you as your back arched, your core pushing further into his hand.

“Fuck,” he hissed, hand travelling down to grip his cock, already pressing into the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Why don’t you get rid of that?” you asked breathily, watching him struggle to get traction as he tried to palm himself and he grunted a complaint before pulling away from you to quickly tug the rest of his clothes off, throwing them away wildly.

A soft sigh of relief escaped him when his visibly red hardness met the cool air of the room and he watched as you trailed the tips of your own fingers down to your hole, easing a finger in and letting out a tantalizing whine.

Jungkook leaned forward, eyes fixed on you as the top of his hair brushed your stomach. He licked a quick stripe over your clit, before his free hand was coming up to pull your hand free and into his own mouth.

His tongue wrapped around the digit, sucking over the essence that clung to it and he closed his eyes, letting out a pleased hum.

The sight made you gulp when he opened his eyes, fixing you with a steady gaze.

Popping your fingers out his mouth he made a show of licking his lips when you jumped into action.

You pressed up against Jungkook, pushing him back into position to lie back on the pillows before you were wrapping a hand around the base of his throbbing member.

Jungkook let out a choked sound, lifting onto his elbows, watching as you bent over his cock, letting pooled saliva from your mouth drip on to the tip. Your hand dragged painstakingly to the tip, thumb swirling over the top to mix your juices and his precum together.

“Jesus, Y/N, that’s so fucking hot.” Jungkook whined, rubbing his hands over his face as you gave him your most sultry look.

Jungkook felt around for the foil and handed you the packet, letting you rip it open and slide it onto him. Rolling it on, you smiled, biting on to your lips.

Holding his gaze, just as he had done to you, you slowly pushed him into the cavern of your mouth, taking in each inch of covered skin methodically, rubbing the surface of your tongue against the hardened velvet.

Jungkook was clawing at his hair now, whining even more than you as you popped up, letting his cock cool down while smiling coyly, rubbing your thumb over your lips to gracefully wipe the string of juices your action had left.

“Y/N, please, please, sit on it,” Jungkook cried, his hands, strong with desperation pulling you on top of him.

“Whoa,” you said, reaching out to balance yourself on top of him as he reached down between your bodies, lining him with your core.

“Shh, relax,” you crooned, speaking softly as he turned a pained look to you.

“I can’t bloody well – oh – my, fucking god.” He growled, as you let yourself sink down on him, his length sheathing into your hot, wet clenching pussy.

Jungkook threw his head back, hands digging into your hips as you began to roll over his. Every clench and drag of your walls against him made him let out a soft grunt, eyes closed as he let you move and take control.

He looked beautifully fucked out…because of you.

In front of your mesmerized eyes, his nipples swelled and you did the one thing your own pleasure hazed mind could think of.

You bent over him, hair tickling his chest as you engulfed his peak into your mouth, tongue brushing over it while your fingers sought the other.

Jungkook’s voice broke into a long groan, eyes flying open to look at you sucking away at his chest and his grip on you tightened, if possible, lifting you till he was pounding up into you.

Your control snapped, as the angle he was holding you in, allowed him to hit that stupidly sweet spot and pleasure sparked white gold in your vision. Jungkook pulled you closer to him, mouth nuzzling into your breasts, pants falling from his open mouth.

He flipped you, in a broken, graceless maneuver before he was plunging into you again, keeping your legs open for him, one hand wrapped around your ankle, pushing it high and back as he calculatingly stroked against your spot and your toes curled, and one hand clawing into his sheets as he pushed you into oblivion.

Hot, fiery pleasure burned you through, singing your body as Jungkook followed with a deep growling grunt ending in whines as he emptied himself into the rubber.

It took you a few moments to open your eyes, Jungkook collapsing over you to press tired kisses against your shoulder, a deep hum of satisfaction sounding in your ears.

It was going to be hell getting up and going to work tomorrow.

“Keeping the defense and the jury in mind, we clear Miss Lee Jiyoon of all charges.”

There was a pause, a small lull as the judge signed her statement, snapping the nib in place before a light buzz of cheer broke out.

You turned back to your bench with a grin as Jiyoon jumped up, shock written clear over her face.

“Did…I just get acquitted?” she whispered even as her mother called for her attention.

You smiled. “Yep, you did and we have information that Kinjo is going very far for a very long time, so you won’t have to see him ever again.”

Jiyoon smiled widely, throwing an arm around you that you patted before she was racing off, green hair flying, into her mother’s arms.

“Good job, Y/N; Drinks are on me, as are those junior partner papers. My office, tomorrow,” Yuna muttered as she followed Yoongi out. You gestured Mina to meet you at the car, walking out of the courtroom.

“Y/N, great work in there,”

You turned to see Namjoon walking towards you, hands tucked into your pocket, beaming.

“Hey, you too,” you grinned as he pulled you into a customary one armed hug, a rough pat on your back.

“Well, good luck on your next one, I’m hoping to go up against you again in the future.” He crowed.

“Sure, as long as it’s not Jungkook.” You mocked back as his eyes flickered over your head; a teasing smiled tugging at his lips.

“Jungkook, huh?” he asked and you flushed, looking down as he stepped back.

“Mr. Kim,” you heard another voice join you and Jeon Jungkook stepped next to you, bowing his head towards the older man.

“Counselor Jeon,” Namjoon nodded back, glancing between the two of you with a smirk. “Seems like you guys talked stuff out,”

“Shut up, Joon!” you gasped and he laughed, dodging your smack before looking at Jeon.

“Take good care of my girl, you hear Jeon?”

“Loud and clear, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook mumbled as with a parting smile Namjoon left you and him.

Even before you blinked, you were in his arms, strong bands of muscle holding you as he grinned cheekily down at him.

“I’ll be sure to take care of my girl.”

“Your girl?” you laughed up at him.

“Yep,” he leaned in to place his mouth against your temple. “I hated waking up without you in my bed. I like you that much.”

“Right, do you have evidence to support your claim?” you asked, turning your ‘attorney’ look on him.

He rolled his eyes. “I do, in fact,” he slipped something from his pocket, holding a blue azalea stem out to you.

“I saw you had a fascination for this.”

“It was more like fascination as to why you always smelled like one.”

Jungkook paused, looking down at the flower before laughing out loud, tucking the flower into your ear.

“Now you can smell like me, in more ways than one.”

You groaned at the innuendo. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re stuck with me. Deal with it.”

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