#bully!au

-makes you carry his books and his bookbag

-will trip you up in the halls

-doesn't let his other friends pick on you. you're his only

-tells you to go away once you get to his class cause he doesn't wanna be seen with you

-sometimes makes you sit with all his friends at lunch to make you uncomfortable but actually just wants to sit with you

-will corner you in closets or empty halls/classrooms and will tease you by whispering in your ear or staring into your eyes until you cower away or hide your face. then he'll just leave you there

-if his friends go somewhere after school he won't join them, he'll walk home with you instead

-makes you do literally all of his schoolwork

-will give you absolute hell the next day if you miss school but secretly just misses you

-will force you to go to parties cause he knows you'll hate it.

you were all alone. dabi had dragged you to this god awful party purely to torture you and then ditched you, but you didn't expect any less from him. you should leave. just walk yourself home. but you were too scared. it felt like he always had eyes on you. like he would know if you left early. so you stayed. everyone there gave you weird looks the whole time. they rarely ever saw you outside of class. you didn't care about them staring though. you tuned out everything at the party and just waited for it to end.

as you were standing alone in a hallway, you saw dabi come stumbling your way. he was absolutely shit faced. right before he fell to the ground, he grabbed onto your shoulders to steady himself. he was breathing heavily, his face flushed and turned towards the floor. he looked up at you through spiky bangs. you looked back at him. it was different from all the times he had cornered you. this look wasn't teasing or challenging. it was.... longing almost. he looked at you as if he wanted to say something...

"y...y/n..."

you leaned in closer.

"gonna puke."

jesus christ.

you rushed him to the closest bathroom and shoved him into the floor, a little harder than you probably had to. he slammed the lid open. you almost left him there, but decided to take mercy on the young boy who showed more and more scars everyday. you held his hair back and out of his face until he was done. you gave him plenty of water and rubbed his back.

"are you okay now?"

he looked up at you with bleary eyes. he smirked. then he was giggling until his giggles turned into full on laughter. you didn't know what was so funny, but his barking laughter was so contagious.

You supposed it was funny to find yourself here, like this, with him.

You see, the reason why Jungkook constantly picks on you is—

Firstly. Although you were this sweet girl filled with compassion who treated everyone equally and nicely, you were nonetheless ostracised in school. Due to the fact that you covered up who your father was to protect yourself, and your family. 

“Wait Y/N, what does your father do?” One of your classmates had questioned, making sure she was pulling on and cutting off the right strings.

 Confirming, that it would be okay to ignore you.

“My father had died in an car accident a few years back.” Her eyes widened, in what you assumed as sympathy. “I only have my mom, who works at the coffee shop just around the corner of the street.” At that, her sympathy washes away and is replaced quickly by what you deemed as disassociation. All you receive is an ‘O’ shape formed on her mouth, before she slithers away to join her group of friends who carried Chanel bags and wore Gucci shoes to school.

 Everybody then knew you as the girl who is single-parented by a humble mother who works at a café down the street. There was this hierarchy in school, and there was almost no reason to get close to somebody who was not worth of connections and had no business strings to pull. To put it simply, your ass was not wealthy enough to suck up to.

And the perfect person to bully. (Without having their family company’s stock rate to drop.)

You try to pass off as indifferent as ever, like this was your life and everything to you is nothing more than a normality. 

But it isn’t. 

It’s sort of amusing how you had to travel to such extremities in order to make sure your journey in high school would be a smooth-sailing and unbothered one. 

You had rather those shallow-minded, materialistic people to keep an appropriate distance away from the girl in rags. Therefore, you lied.

“Oh there’s the girl whose father passed on from an accident.” Compared to, “Isn’t that the girl whose father committed embezzlement?” It’s somehow better in some way or another to lie about your father’s death than to tell the school the ugly truth.The former would cause people to avoid you, a fatherless child, while the latter would cause people to despise you, a criminal’s daughter. Sympathy was better than contempt, after all.

It’s been almost eight months since that—you could quite literally say, mind-blowing incident.

It was the time of the year where the first years would start enrolling into the colleges that have sent them an acceptance letter. It was the time, for a fresh clean start. 

For everybody. Especially you.

You got into a college a few hours drive far away from the hometown. You call it the hometown because that place had turned foul with the odour of filthy money, the values of the society you were living in back there unreservedly stinks of corruption and discrimination towards the less well-off and the weak—it wasn’t even yours to begin with.

 No, you didn’t want to acknowledge a place like that as your home.

You stuck out like a total sore thumb in that city. 

Surely the town had a beautiful cityscape, splattered with greyscale high-rised office buildings with doses of parks and bridges. 

It looked picturesque. 

Fact is, it only looked picturesque.

What lies behind the millionaire central business district was the cruelsome inevitable hierarchy and a deadly game of chess. 

Kill, or be killed.

You left for a peace of the mind, to put behind all the bad memories, nightmare of a terrible highschool life and the irreversible tragic situation your family was in. Your father was still an employee in that company, with no other choice but to work like a bull as a form of redemption to his wrongdoings.

 Meanwhile, your mother diligently worked as a barista and kept her profile low-key. She couldn’t enjoy her usual high-tea sessions with her housewife friends anymore, she couldn’t even lift her head when she stepped out of the house anymore. Tragic, indeed.

College was like a fresh breather. 

Like a clean and proper start to everything, considering no one from highschool was likely to be here with you. It was a chance to meet new, kinder people who did not steal your yoghurt or vandalise your belongings or maybe even split your forehead apart like a certain someone—and to finally live a life of someone normal. 

It was like a new shot at life. At least that was what you thought.

Carrying all your belongings from your old apartment, you hear noises coming from your dormitory.

 “Ah! What do I do? How am I going to cook all these ramen I bought?! Why am I so stu-oh my god!” Your roomie looks at you by the door, watching her go into a fit of frenzy. 

“You scared me! Why are you standing there like that?” She starts bursting into laughter. 

And you naturally let out a light chuckle, too. 

“I have a kettle, and it’s for sharing.” You lift up the pink sleek kettle you have in hand after overhearing her not-so-quiet state of despair. Her eyes twinkle with a gleam of hope, like her entire sanity just got saved. 

By a pink floral-printed, kettle.

“Thank you! You’re the best! I can already tell we’re going to get along just fine!” She beams in excitement and pulls you into a tight hug while you try to prevent all of your stuff from dropping onto the ground. 

Oh, so much for a kettle.

“I’m Sooyoung, nice to meet you…?” She chirps with her bright red lipstick and pearly white teeth—you already love her so much, your only friend in such a long time. 

“U-Uh, it’s Y/N.” You sheepishly grin, averting her sparkly eyes. 

So this is what the effect being deprived of any proper contact with humans felt like. You could feel chemistry building rapidly between the both of you, or maybe it was solely because you haven’t had a true friend in ages. 

Sooyoung was definitely outspoken and extroverted, simple-minded and direct with her feelings—which in contrary to you, who was leaning towards the more reserved and introverted side. Hanging out with Sooyoung made you feel like you had some self-worth, her strong initiative and inclusion towards you made you feel like you were needed as a friend, for once in so long.

 Regardless of your financial status. 

And no longer than a couple of days, the both of you had grown so close through the binge-watching of netflix and love for Toki’s fried chicken. The two of you hopped around campus, getting exploited to the publicity of various clubs and sport teams and adjusting in through the freshmen orientation you wished had never ended. Because the end of orientations meant the start of classes—which you weren’t such a sucker for anymore, knowing how much fun you could have to hang out with legitimate friends.

 It felt different, but it felt nice.

 To be able to speak without being afraid, to be able to tease and hug one another so casually without any obstructions of statuses. It felt nice to be able to be yourself, the Y/N who played tag, built sandcastles and rambled about the the number of dogs you were going to own in the future under the night stars, with your bestfriend. It felt nice to be able to open up your soul.

And that is why suddenly, you were a fan of raising the roof. You became one of those girls in their little squads back in high school who constantly had silly grins plastered onto their faces, squealing over celebrity crushes and skipping off to movie dates hand-in-hand with their girlfriends. And just for once, you felt like you were normal. You fitted in easily, with the help of Sooyoung, became just like everyone else. She introduced you to two of her other friends, Wendy and Seulgi, who were just as amazing as she was.

“Come on, let’s go Y/N.” Your mouth open agape as you looked at her, dumbfounded. What exactly were you supposed to wear to a friends outing? It was the first time you were actually going to meet up with her friends. 

“I-I have nothing to wear.” You blurt out, and Sooyoung makes a sound of something in between a scoff and a laugh.

 “Do you even need to wear anything? We’re only meeting Seul and Wen for coffee!” You embarassingly scratch the back of your head, feeling like you read too much into a coffee date.

 “Here,” She steps foward and pulls out a top from your section of the wardrobe. “This should do.” Sooyoung shakes her head as you get dressed, thinking how much you’ve never went out before.

You put on a long sleeved floral top and jeans. You have never been yourself in highschool, you felt like you didn’t have the right to, dress all girly and pretty—it felt like something only the rich and pretty could do. 

During the school break, you let your hair down, started wearing contact lenses, and even dyed your hair a light brown—you were almost unrecognisable. The thought that no one was going to laugh at you for dolling yourself up, had you shrieking in excitement as you happily made your way to the mall.

So here you were, sitting at the café nearby the university, having a session of gossip with your own little squad.

Having something or someone you love is honestly the greatest vulnerability. Once you have a taste of something, you wouldn’t want to let that go—no, not just yet. Once something is under your possesion, and the worst thing that can happen is that you would grow so accustomed to it. If you told yourself 4 years ago that you would be sitting with a bunch of your closest friends, chattering happily and discussing about what you going to wear to the party later in the evening over lunch— you would probably laugh in utter disbelief, for that would only happen in your wildest dreams. And the wildest dream were you living in, sitting at the caféteria having a serious meeting about how your clique should wear a similar concept of clothes and stride into the frathouse like bad bitches.

Though, it seemed like Seulgi was the only one serious about this whole thing.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Wendy opts out and decides to go with her own full black style.

“Um okay, who’s with me?” 

You could tell Seulgi was nervous, by how hard she is trying to come up with a mastermind plan with the four of you to at least leave an impression in the welcoming party. Her eyecandy, Taehyung was going to be there, she had to somehow step up her game, right? After drooling over him in Biology lectures for what seemed like weeks, she was finally going to gain a chance at some sort of interaction with the “love of her life”—as she proclaims—at this very major and important party of entering the college life. 

There was a foam of unsettling silence until Sooyoung decides to disrupt it. All of you wanted nothing more but to drink away your feelings of sorrow for the term that was about to commence.

“Okay fine, I will do it with you.” Sooyoung volunteers, seeing as to no one was particularly interested. 

“I guess I will join too then..” You raised, and Seulgi’s pout transforms into a smile at once. She proceeds to tug on Wendy’s arm, who was boredly using her phone while waiting for Seulgi to be over that idea. But as she looks up to three pairs of eyes expectantly waiting for her reply, she sighs. 

“I can’t believe the two of you agreed to it. Disappointed is an understatement.” With a roll of her eyes, the four of you laughed heartedly in satisfaction and carried on with the conversation about boys, boys and boys. 

After a long bonding session, which consisted of them being shocked as to how you’ve never dated before, which they found impossible—because they thought you were really gorgeous and lovely. As the girls scanned your features upon Wendy’s compliment, you knew they noticed the scar at your left temple—by how their eyes linger there for a moment before quickly diverting their gaze to the rest of your face as an act of oblivion. They chose to not question something you didn’t mention out of your own will.

 Who would have guessed you were a victim of bullying?

Suddenly, your chair screeched loudly “Oh crap, I’ve got to go submit some papers at the office!” You weren’t done with registering your details with the university, and had a lot of troublesome loose strings to tie up for your father wanted to you to receive the allowance he gave to you every month from the school. The office was closing barely in a few minutes, and you had to check it off your to-do-list by today. 

“Sorry girls, I have to rush off now,” You felt bad for leaving your friends like in the middle of an enticing horror story Seulgi was telling, but nonetheless you snatched your belongings and made your way out of the café, flustered.

 “See you at the dorm at 6!” Sooyoung yells out to you and you reply her with a sloppish wave. The rustic copper bells at the door twinkles violently as it busts open, and you’re flying off to campus.

The smell of succulent wild berries and soft white violets.

 He can almost recognise that smell from anywhere. Jungkook looks up from the game on his mobile device. His characters were groaning loudly in pain in his eardrums, losing the match but he squints in the distance, putting all the broken misplaced pieces of nostalgia together once again. Was that who he thought it was? Your face lingered faintly at the back of his head but he shook his head and pushed the suspicion away.He whips around and tilts his head from the dull pain of the whiplash. The clicking of her leather boot heels become amplified as his vision focused solely on her back—the way her soft fawn locks sway from side to side with every step she took, the way her cute pink top flowed in the wind of spring, this aura of confidence she had radiating around her entire form, the scent she left behind was persistent in his nose, and he hates to admit but it further confirms his suspicions. 

But no, it couldn’t be.

 It couldn’t be at all.

 He must be hallucinating, but she was on his mind the whole day, the sight of her slowly disappearing into the university’s building from the open walkway etched on his very mind. Something about that girl hit the sense of familiarity in him—with a pinch of longing and a sense of regret.

“Can’t wait to see Taehyung,” Seulgi’s feet tap on the ground in anticipation mixed with nervousness. She must have known she was not the only one fawning over Taehyung’s perfectly sculpted features. 

“Can’t wait to get wasted.” Wendy softly follows after. 

Sooyoung smacks Wendy, “And yours truly would have to drag your asses back?” She sulks at the fact that she had to control her liqour and not go all out tonight—for she was all of yours’ ride back. 

“Did you happen to forget that you’re the only one who’s got a driver’s license?” Wendy reminds, and Sooyoung is left with a defeated sigh, wishing she hadn’t learnt to drive before any of you all did.

The house was already slightly bouncing from the booming pop music inside, the windows doing a bad job at encasing the sound waves. The party has not even begun, but the whole house was filled with guests—freshmen, mostly—and it felt like half of the college’s students were present here. You swear you heard a few whistles as the four of you walked through the door, entering one by one, completely fazed by the entire atmospehere of the party. You sucked in a deep breath, calming your nerves and preventing yourself from developing a panic attack from how loud and crowded this place. 

You felt strange, your seventh sense pricking at your thoughts, as if a pair of eyes were watching you intensely. You weren’t used to being with large amounts of people, and to be frank, you already felt suffocated whenever you were in class. The comfort of being alone and having space was not appreciated enough. Especially in crazy parties like this.

A few moments later, while everyone seem to find home at this stranger’s house, you were still stiff and a little uncomfortable. Wendy went to join in a game of beer pong—you can hear her hollers of victory every once in a while. And Seulgi made her way to find her dreamboy, gathering courage to make her moves on him. Sooyoung decided to head to the kitchen to grab drinks, pulling you along, and chugged the unruly liquid in the red cups down too easily. Sooyoung poured you a shot of vodka while she had a cup of tequila in hand, “Y/N, drink this to loosen up.” She says assuringly and you grab suspicious red cup from her hands, looking at it with worry and hesistation. You weren’t one to drink alcohol, you never have and never wanted to. But you guessed it was time to try. 

Hands shaky, you immediately brought the drink to your lips, brows furrowing tightly as you down every drop of the vodka. “Wait Y/N, I should pour some soda water to water it down for you.”Sooyoung spins the cap close on the bottle of vodka as she looks around for the soda water. 

Cheeks full of hard liquor, both of your eyes widened when she turned around, with the red cup empty in your hand. You swallowed, and it burned your throat. Grimacing from the taste left on your tongue, you looked at her in confusion. “Was I not supposed to just-“

“Oh my goodness, Y/N!” Sooyoung’s face lit up in surprise. “I didn’t know you can hold your liquor that well! I should just..” She drinks straight from the bottle, like a baby sucking on a milk bottle, the hard stuff entering her system. 

“Ah, this just feels too good!” She screamed in pure intoxicated happiness and grabbed your arm, heading to the dance floor. “Let’s dance.”

 A light buzz clouded your mind from the three-quarter full cup of vodka as you smiled sheepishly, making your way to the dance floor. Sooyoung jumped up and down, swinging to the music and letting her body flow to the rhythm. Her enthusiasm infected you, causing you to slightly follow and move accordingly to her actions and the deafening music. The buzz gradually grew bigger, taking over your whole body, your limbs were dancing on their own as you slowly flutter your eyes shut to the feeling. You were smiling too much—almost unnecessarily as you blended right into the dancing crowd, Sooyoung long drifted away from you, probably having fun with somebody else who matched her high level of energy. 

You were certain that you were strongly inebriated, for your cheeks were burning red, and you were dancing. 

Dancing.

 If the Jeon demon was here, he would have probably took a video of you and laughed at your horrendous movements. But you were having the time of your life, enjoying yourself in this party, dancing. 

Fuck, why were you even thinking about him? You felt so free of worries, without any sort of burden‚ like a caged bird set free—you were floating with numerous bodies, to the song you always hear on the radio, with no judgemental eyes or hushed murmurs about the way you were acting. 

Your confidence was always weak, but for today, it got stronger—at least just for a moment. Everything felt perfect—even though you were alone, but you knew that you had three friends by your side and that was more than enough. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“Having fun?” A voice echoed in your ear. Although you felt like you were on fire, you manage to feel the hands that creeped up onto your hips, leaving you on slightly on edge and caution. The touch burned through the fabric of the short dress you were wearing, if it was even possible, and you tried turning around. But you failed as the strong grip held you in place, no one would notice you were struggling as everyone on the dance floor just looked like a bunch of twirling limbs. Before you could turn your head to catch a glimpse of the person who was laying their hands on you, he snuck closer to press against your back and rested his chin onto your shoulder. The side of his face so close to yours, you couldn’t even tilt your head around to see his face. It was like he didn’t want you to see his face, for all you know, self-consciousness.

 It wasn’t like you minded too much about people’s faces, if anything, you knew better than anyone else than to judge a book by it’s cover. Cover, meaning status, family background, level of affluence—let alone their damn physical appearance.

“You look amazing tonight,” His voice trickles into your ears like candy, sending shivers down your spine with a single compliment. But one thing for sure, was that he smelled so good, and it made you want to bury your face into his chest and let him be the only thing you were going to smell for life.

The faceless stranger didn’t grind onto your ass or sneak his hands further up to your breasts, but the both of you comfortably stayed like that, swaying gently to the music. You silently chided yourself for letting someone touch you like that without knowing his name, or seeing his face—but you enjoyed the way you were being held a little too much than you’d like to admit.

 Was this some kind of undiscovered trait of lust you had surging throughout your body?

There was only one way to find out.

You tilted your head back and pushed yourself against him, feeling his crotch press against the crack between the cheeks of your ass.He lets out a deep chuckle, one you assumed was filled with want and amusement from your gnawing desperation to feel him—without knowing anything about this stranger.

 Maybe you were too drunk, mind flooding with lustful thoughts and core aching a little from his strong grasp on your hips. But as he interlocks his fingers with yours and moves towards the stairs to bring you upstairs and satisfy your needs that you clearly displayed a few seconds ago, you halted in your tracks. “Waiiit,” You tug him back, speech slurring. And he refuses to turn back to face you, as though he is afraid that you would turn him down once you see his face.

 At the same time, he’s listening. 

He’s curious as to what you have to say to him.

With his back still stubbornly facing you, you pull him closer and unlock your fingers, spinning him around. 

“What’s your name?” You reach out to grab his hand once again, for reassurance. He looks at the floor, scared and nervous to meet your eyes for the very first time. The stranger was elegant and charming—you could sense it clearly from the aura he was radiating around you. 

But it was also clear as day that he lacked confidence. 

“I’m.. Namjoon, s-sorry,” You clutch his hand tighter to prevent him from leaving abruptly. 

You genuinely enjoyed dancing with him, and you feel like he was someone you would want to get to know better.

“Namjoon, look at me. Let me see you properly?” The words came out more like a question, nonetheless he raises his head carefully, as if to give you time you prepare for how ugly he looked. 

You know it all, too well. 

It wasn’t even a few milliseconds after you looked at his face before—“Namjoon, you look amazing too.” You returned the compliment, not for the sake of boosting his self-confidence or to return the praise—but he really, looked amazing. His brown hair is parted and combed back messily, his monolids and plump lips rested perfectly on his face. You couldn’t really understand why he was self-conscious about his looks, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. A smile flashes onto his face upon your words and he covers his mouth with his hand shyly. God, he had dimples too. This man was downright gorgeous—it was a pity he couldn’t see that for himself.

 “I mean it, you look handsome.” You smile back at him, adoration for this man escalating in you as he chuckles.

 “Thank you, uh..” Namjoon’s eyes widened as to how he had missed your name. “I’m Y/N.” You finish for him and he shakes his head at how rude he must have seemed without asking for your name. He panics.

 “Sorry I just-” “It’s okay Namjoon.” You giggle, and he leans foward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Your cheeks grow red at the sudden intimacy, being reminded of where the both of you had left off. 

“Shall we go upstairs?” He suggests politely—though, what may happen between the two of you, weren’t so much going to be so. 

“Sure-” 

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

 A tap on your shoulder brings your attention away from Namjoon, your hand dropping from his, hanging loosely by your side at the voice.

At his voice. 

You would never forget the voice who brought the insults and mean remarks into your ears, slowly feathering down to your pile of insecurities. 

You are certain, that you would never forget his voice.

You could feel your legs begin to tremble as your eyes meet with the devil’s, dark and fierce—piercing right through your soul. The devil, being none other than Jeon Jungkook. 

The first thing you feel is denial.

You can’t help but let your jaw drop, lips parting in complete shock and dread. No,no,no, it can’t be. You repeat like a mantra in your heart, hoping it gets to your tipsy head. It just can’t be. This has to be some sort of sickening plot twist in a Korean drama series, right? You tried pinching hard at your thighs, wincing as the pain assures you that this in fact, wasn’t a dream. And Jungkook, the guy who filled your teen years with plain torture and unkept peace, was standing right infront of you. 

The second thing you feel is fear.

You could feel your breath start to stutter, as you subconsciously take a step back from him with shaky legs. Namjoon, as expected, was gone by now. Probably having fled as he sees a far more dominating and confident look in Jungkook’s eyes. You were afraid. So afraid that this terrible man would come into your life and ruin everything for you. Sooyoung, Seulgi and Wendy would all probably leave you as this devil incarnate, would claim you to being his punching doll, once again. No one would want to stay close to a victim of bully. No matter how much sympathy they are able to gain, or how much external kindness they are able to receive—they still never have true friends to hang out with, share secrets between and to protect each other. Because who in the world would want to include losers in their fancy little squads?

 Victims are only viewed as a burden, bringing down the entire group, being the plus one in everything—it’s hard to open up to people that easily, afraid of saying the wrong things or doing things that would make others upset.

 It’s hard.

 And you solemnly pray Jungkook wouldn’t make it hard again for you in your new life in college.

As these train of thoughts travel pass your mind, the trembling hand by your side was now grabbed by Jungkook, as he waltzed you through the sweaty crowd and out of the thumping house that made your head spin. He pulls your speechless form outside, the cool and needed fresh air kissing your skin. His fingers are still laced with yours, gently tight and the feeling too foreign for your administration to the vulnerable mind. 

Jungkook looks at you with eyes that seem like concern and worry—something that was so unfamiliar to you and never encountered with before.

 With his thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand soothingly, that was the last straw.

“Y/N…Are you okay?” Jungkook begins.