#anyways life is hell and i cant just leave the state because this is where my family is and also the only ocular disease specialist whos

[bitchfitch]

bathroom floor is about 70% tiled now. the thinset needs time to finish drying finish drying before the last row is put in and grout is laid down. once that's done the shower walls will be tiled and then the cabinets, sink, toilet, and fixtures will be installed. and then the bathroom will Finally be done. The rest of the apartment just needs the 40+y/o carpet ripped up and replaced with faux wood, the walls painted, the outlets and switches replaced (to get everything up to code) and the new lighting fixtures to go in. and then the whole kitchen needs ripped out due to mold but I'm trying to not think about that. tldr another big step has been made towards me finally getting to move into the new apartment and I'm very excited about it.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Doll!Chucky x Drunk!Fem!Reader x Freddy Krueger || Headcanons

*Set in the Horror House

Topic: Its a classic- you get drunk because you've had a sucky, sucky day. And you're just wondering by the house, barefoot and probably cold, when Chucky and Freddy see you and get you inside. (And... boy, does that sound threatening 😅 To be clear- this is mostly fluff XD )

(This can be read as romantic or platonic! Readers choice.)

Warnings: Characters who have no business ever being characterised as nice, being nice (In a way that I hope is still them 😅), Reader is sad and uses alcohol to numb themselves. (You're not depressed or an alcoholic though), and also the word 'bitch' is used quite a bit, I'm sorry 😅😅

Look if no one else is gonna write mindless, non-canonical fluff for these two shits then I WILL-

🍺 You're sitting on the porch swing with a blanket over your shoulders and Chucky in your lap, playing with his bright orange hair while Freddy lectures you- how did you get here??? This explanation is seemingly very simple.

🍺 Today was the first day of your life... it started out good, texting with Jennifer while you got ready for the day, but then you had a fight. Sure, you would both get over it tomorrow and you knew that, but it felt awful. Then your bus was late and so you were late to work, it was a busy busy day, your mood deteriorated... and finally you left early because you just felt that upset- which just made you feel worse, for missing work!

🍺 So you decided to go have a drink at a bar. That turned into 2... 3... then you were in a guy's lap and you lost your shoes. He was an ass, turns out, of course, and so the next thing you know--

🍺 You're strolling drunkenly, barefoot, down Jennifer's street sniffling and sipping a cheap wine straight out of the bottle. You just wanna see her- you think if she sees you so fucked up and sad then she'll stop being mad at you and... *sniffle*... give you some cuddles, and make you feel better after this hell day...

🍺 Oh, you hope she will. You need your best *hick* friend... *hick* please...

🍺 You're just wandering down the footpath, almost tripping a couple of times, when you hear fast footfalls behind you (Like boots) and a hand lands on your shoulder. You whip around, wide eyed, but relax immediately when you recognise Freddy's familiar form in your tipsy, dazed state. He's looking amused at you, and vaguely you think he must know that you're drunk, must have figured it out (He's clever ^^), because he waits for you to fully focus on him. Then with one blade he points downwards to your feet, letting you follow his gesture before talking.

🍺 "Princess I don't think you're supposed to leave the prince both shoes. If he cant findya with just one, I don't think you even want a dumbass prince like that."

🍺 "Hm?-... oh... I- I... it was hot... "

🍺 "Too hot for your shoes?" He looks bemused, but in your drunken state you think he's just concerned for you.

🍺 "Mhm... "

🍺 "... where are you going to, anyway?"

🍺 "Um, I- I-... " You start sniffling again, remembering where you were going and why you feel so so crappy- eyes immediately filling up with tears. "Oh. I, I was looking for- for Jen... We had a fi-ight, and I... I really needa see 'er... "

🍺 Freddy stares at you for a few moments- as much as he loves to see someone - anyone. especially something so fucking cute, like you, - crying like little bitch in front of him, something about this... doesn't sit right with him. After a moment of thought, he grows annoyed at his own lack amusement and twists you around and guides you back down the footpath again. "Well you're goin the wrong way. You go in this house, you'll find a bitch but she's asian, and she's gonna be real confused why you broke into her house late at night- c'mon. Lemme tell ya, jail aint for you."

🍺 He leads you to the right house - they all look the same in the dark!! you didn't know you were going to the wrong one... - and as soon as you step up onto the porch you hear another harsh voice yell in a way that makes you jump right out of your skin.

🍺 "Where the hell are that girls shoes, fuckface!?"

🍺 "Fuck, everything's my fault around here, huh kid?... I don't know, bitch. She said she was too hot wearing them, gimmie a break."

🍺 "We all know she's hot Freddy, that wasn't my question." Chucky sniggers, sat up on the porch swing with a wicked grin on his face. When he looks at your properly, sniffling and blowing your nose into a tissue from your pocket, and he makes an ewwwww sort of face, instead. "... and you made her cry. That's a little kinky even for you."

🍺 "... Uh, not its not."

🍺 "You're right, its not. Aaanyway- what the hell did you do to her??"

🍺 Here you finished wiping your nose and, tiredly now, turned to shake your head at Chucky. "No, its... *sniff* I was- was looking for Jen... a guy at the bar... he- he was an ass, and I just- "

🍺 Immediately they exchange an uncomfortable look. "Uhhh- what kinda ass?" Chucky asks, while Freddy gives you a quick once over.

🍺 You shrug, not truly thinking about what you're saying. "I- I thought he w-wanted t' cheer me up... but he didn't... she will, th- though, I hope,.. do you- do either of you know where she is maybe?... "

🍺 "Ehh... sorry kid, hate ta break it you ya but she left for the night... " As soon as those words leave Chucky's mouth your eyes fill up with tears all over again and you almost start crying immediately- before he fast tracks to stop it. "But hey!- y' share that bottle with me and y'can hang here. I betcha I'm better company then that millennial whore."

🍺 ... really? Immediately your heart soars, getting special treatment from one the meanest and scariest assholes in this house. The nicest thing you had ever heard him say before this moment!, you think!, was 'Get the fuck out of my way, please'! When you turn to Freddy, silently asking if that would be okay, he flashes you a smirk.

🍺 "Well, I am."

🍺 "Shut the fuck up, you pair of cauterized ass cheeks."

🍺 "That's a new one." "Yeah, pretty good, eh?" "Not bad, plastic breath."

🍺 As you sit down on the porch swing beside Chucky, taking some deep breaths of fresh, cool nighttime air to try and sober yourself, Chucky takes the cheap wine and he looks ridiculous with it but he takes a big gulp of it. Then turns to you, and asks promptly- so why're you so fucked up tonight, huh? Somethin' bad happen?

🍺 You stop, think about it... and immediately start crying into your hands.

🍺 Freddy pulls his hat down roughly over his eyes, and groans "no class... "- as if he's got any, either. Then turns and waltzes into the house again saying he's going to get the fucking box.

🍺 (He actually just goes to pee and comes back with a blanket for you)

🍺 A good while later, and you're getting quite sleepy just sitting there listening to Chucky and Freddy go back and forth from either side of you (You're not really contributing to the conversation, just sitting there with a blanket around you nodding or letting out little 'mhm's or 'uhuh's if they look at you to agree with them) and your gaze slips over to Chucky.

🍺 He stops mid-sentence to look at you, like, whadaya want?

🍺 Quickly he deadpans, recognising the look in your eye that he's become very familiar with since... you know... living as a good guy doll. "... you wanna fucken hold me, don't you?"

🍺 ... "Mhm... " You nod.

🍺 "Fuck, no. Get it outta your head. Do you think I enjoy that shit?? I'm the goddam Lakeshore Strangler, bitch, not a fucken Cabbage Patch kid. I'm feared. I'm infamous- no, do not fucken cry again. I swear, I'll stab you if you cry. Don't test me. Don't- aghhh!" After a few moments, he gives up, letting you gather him in your lap; One arm wrapping around his middle and the other hand slipping into his soft, messy hair. "If you tell anyone in there about this shit, you're gonna wake up with a new hole. I don't know where it'll be yet, I think I'll be spontaneous about it, but it will hurt."

🍺 "And you- " When Chucky turns to Freddy, who looks like he's about to explode seeing this, he stops. ... Slowly, he grins. "You know what?... Freddy buddy, why don't you tell us again how you lost so fucken bad to the momma's boy?" ... oh dear, you think, eyes going wide and round.

🍺 Like a light switch, all amusement is gone from Freddy's face, replaced by a furious glare, and he takes a deep, deep, deeeeeep breath; Getting up from the swing to stand in front of the two of you. "... you move your asses outta that chair before I finish and you die."

🍺 So yeah... explanation is seemingly very simple... but who would really believe you if you tried to tell them this all happened and Chucky and Freddy Krueger were actually nice to you??

[aquanova99]

Do you think that the Denali’s learned each others’ languages. Like did Kate, Tanya, and Irina learn Spanish when Carmen and Eleazar joined? Did everyone learn the languages of Tanya, Kate, and Irina’s respective tribes because I don’t think the Slovakian language existed when the girls were humans

I feel like my Denali headcanons differ so vastly from happy, maybe I'm getting more sadistic... but you know when you go to family/friend reunions and talk to people with smiles but the second you stop you want to roll your eyes or you silently get irritated at the forced proximity?

💗The Denali Coven and their Native Tongues💗

Its not to say there is no love for one another but I mean, if you want to criticize how Carlilse thinks being a vampire condemns him to hell and then continues turning people, I mean I can at least make the argument that he was saving someone's life in a sense. But Sasha turned Tanya because she was in some way related and she wanted the company of another female. Tanya was from what we know okay with the transformation so I could see that she probably learned whatever language Sasha grew up with. I could also see Tanya not necessarily teaching Kate or Irina and wanting to keep something special between Sasha and herself.

I think Tanyas transformation changed something in Sasha, I think the curiosity of living with another vampire changed into a desire she may not have known she had originally. I think she wanted to become a mother. Maybe even felt like she was robbed of that chance like Rosalie feels. So a hundred or so years pass and they come across Kates caravan and they stop to feed. Sasha sees Kate is loyal, willing to die to protect the person she was assigned to most likely knowing it was useless, she also sees Kate bears a striking resemblance to Tanya and you know what? Tanya could use a sister right? This is where things a bit awry. Keep in mind none of these girls are children except maybe Irina, I cant check they took away the free online book I was using as reference 🥲 anyways. I just cant buy that all three women again, except maybe Irina, who grew up with families and lives were just happy with Sasha taking them away simply because they look related. All of this is to say, I dont think Kate ever shared her language with anyone until Garett. I also think that she stayed with Sasha and Tanya because, where the hell else was she going to go. Even though she was in her twenties I could see Sasha and Tanya treating her like a grumpy teenager. And Kate probably doesnt mind the label. Her and Tanya probably fight quite a bit, until she develops her powers. Then I think they just leave Kate to her devices.

Then comes Irina. Irina is supposed to be a peasant girl from a farming village, so I could see her maybe really attaching herself to the family story she gets shoved down her throat. I think Kate being so short and probably the actual younger sibling gets Kate to come out of her bubble. Irina brings out a protectiveness in both of the other sisters and it brings to a more neutral state, at least in the sense that they can be in the same room without hurling remarks at eachother. They absolutely know her native tongue just to make the transition easier. I do think once Sasha is punished by the volturi they stick to one language, and since they settled in Alaska they probably learned some Inuit and English. I do think in order to flirt with Laurent, Irina tried to speak french but her accent was pretty strong and thats why Laurent found her endearing

I think since these kinds of vampires cant sleep (which sounds so miserable pls) I think they probably pick things to learn about so I'm sure they are fluent in more than one language even if it may be hard to bring to memory. When it comes Carmen and Eleazar I think the Denalis definitely knew enough spanish to probably communicate with them but with the world changing and Eleazar being in the Volturi, they were the ones to adapt how they spoke. But I feel like Carmen thinks out loud and mumbles when shes upset and most of the time, she does this in spanish.

[kiwikipedia]

Ages ago i asked the FMAB fandom which animal Chimera Kimblee would have been mixed with and I might’ve been drunk because I went back and looked and I dont remember writing any of that shit like two years ago.

Anyways

I didn’t want to cross into any other known human-chimera territory, but most of the big categories (fish, amphibians, reptiles, mammals and birds) were pretty well covered save for avians and sea-life. The former of which I couldn’t figure out how they’d work with that and the later would be nigh impossible and also useless considering how Amestris is landlocked. I also wanted to focus on mostly apex predator animals or apex adjacent.

Jerso covered the amphibians, Martel and Bido covered the reptiles (and in 03, there’s Ulchi who is a goddamn crocodile), and literally everyone else was a mammal with Heinkel taking felines, Dolcetto and Nina taking canines, Roa and Zampano representing the Artiodactyla (close enough to predator, have you seen those fuckers chase someone down? its terrifying), and Darius being quite literally the largest ape on the planet.

All of these could be considered useful for the military, even Bido and Jerso who have the Geko and toad (toad...fish?) genes, as we see Bido was a rather competent spy and information gatherer while Jerso has been seen as a more than competent fighter— I personally believe that all four of Kimblee’s team had to be considered the best of the Chimera projects, both in order to fight and get the job done but also to subdue Kimblee in the event that he decided to just fucking kill the Elrics. The Homunculi aren’t stupid enough to let Kimblee walk around without a kill switch, both in the canon and just from comments from Arakawa, Kimblee has been noted to really only be on the side of the Homunculi because a.) philosophers’ stone(s, geez Kimblee, how come Father lets you have TWO magic rocks!), b.) it’s interesting, and c.) He gets to kill for free. He has no loyalty to Father like the Homunculi do and he’s sure as hell not in it for the ‘immortality’ like the top brass seem to be. He could defect at any time, stating that his convictions were still in-tact and we do see him do that to an extent at the very end because. You know. Hypocrisy.

Anyways, I digress.

Taking into account that so far all Chimeras have been an animal that could be of use to the military in some way shape or form, that rules out any and all domestic animals (barring dogs, because both Dolcetto and also dogs are used in the military. anyway).

I looked into my previous choices and crossed out the small ones (every weasel (idk what i was doing there) and the european wildcat, leaving the Eurasian Lynx as a prime contender. But despite that, and the apparent love for catboy Kimblee, I’ve actually decided on this choice:

The Maned Wolf.

For those who don’t know, its this funky little (well, big) creature that’s not actually a wolf but some other distinct canid that had been placed in the Canis and Vulpes genera prior though has since been removed. It kinda looks like a fox on stilts with a bit of a wolfish sharpness and a bit of the body shape, which is great for the meta.

Kimblee is an alchemist, a state alchmist and soldier of the Amestrian military. He is also crafty and extremely intelligent. I believe somewhere, Arakawa even stated that he was the third smartest character in the entire series though I cant remember where that was for the life of me. Anyways, here in lies the fun little meta: A maned wolf appears to be both a fox and wolf, and yet it is neither. Kimblee is both highly intelligent representing the fox and a dog of the military representing the wolf, and yet at the same time he is extremely self-serving and not at all loyal to the military.

So yea. Maned Wolf Chimera Kimblee AU. Maybe.

[ryuuseini]

I really need to get this off my chest I'm just... I keep being told "learn to love yourself!! You cant expect people to love you if you dont love yourself first!" And "what do you mean everyone leaves you like youre purposely ignoring all the stable relationships you've had just to play the victim" by my family and im fucking sick of it.

To the first point - there are times where people are so deep in their self loathing and hatred, been told again and again they are unworthy of love, that they need someone to lend a hand in teaching how to self love. Because not everyone can do so when the world around them is constantly saying otherwise.

And to their second point - fuck off. Yeah, maybe its not good that I'm grouping people who do care in the same category as the people who don't... but have you considered that like, shit like this is triggering? Having a friend who promised to be there for you legitimately ruining your life; having a friend who said she was your friend and wanted to hang out with you, but each time you made plans she canceled last minute because it was her sister's birthday that day or some shit (only to see she hangs out with everyone else just fine); a person who said that they'll be friends with you and when you're floored by the fact that they waited for you instead of heading straight to class after gym, said "of course, I said I was your friend and I meant it," only for them to randomly ghost you like barely a month after this interaction and just decide to act like you exist simply when they want to, which is never, and you're just wondering what the hell you did to cause that; to the nicest girl in your class telling you, straight up, "of course you don't deserve friends! You just transferred here senior year, we already have cliques and friends we trust, how do you expect to break that?"; to the person who told you that he'll show you you're worthy of being loved, only to proceed to blame you for all of his unexplainable anger; to the friends who you thought had your best interest but talked about you behind your back about how much they hated you, to the point they willingly harassed you because you decided to leave; to the friends that said they'll try to be your friend but got mad when you pointed out that they rejected every single attempt for you to get closer but kept saying "you can join this one server we have" despite me explicitly stating that I Did Not Feel Safe There because someone who had harassed and stalked me was still in that server and there were zero protections offered for me to even feel safe in such an environment, only for them to decide a person who was suffering from such pain deserved no friends and got all of our shared friends to leave me, despite this being a private personal issue between me and them that I handled privately; to being blamed for a grown man's potential heart attack and that being JUSTIFIED by others while you're still a minor; to just... so many other bullshits I genuinely cannot describe, each happening within the relatively short time span of 5 years. Don't you think??? Don't you just think for a second??? That my brain is conditioned to think this way??? And being told "stop trying to play the fucking victim and realize the friends you DO have" is just ignoring the fact that I literally cannot because the pain is far stronger in my mind than the opposite? But you do nothing but help, so whatever.

And then I remember my first high-school. How I was gaslit, not only by my bully... But by the adults who were supposed to help me as well. I didn't feel safe attending any clubs, and the one club I did attend because he wasn't there... most of the people made fun of me anyway, there was no point. He was in every club with me, and instead of working out a thing so I - the kid who frequently felt isolated - could have a chance to socialize, I simply was expected to just not participate. I was suicide baited the day before a huge school trip by a friend of my bully under my bully's name, and when I went to tell the teacher hey, this happened, can you make sure I'm not paired up with this student who was also going to the trip, my bully stuck around to hear that, only to corner me at my locker to lie to me that he did care I got suicide baited (despite the fact I had texts stating that he only cared if the girl who had sent the texts under his name was going to get in trouble, and not the fact that I had been told my life was essentially meaningless) and had a girl who wasn't involved in the situation, who I thought was my friend, back him up and agree with all his points until I cried that I wanted to die and he should just kill me. The trip got canceled for me, but he was still allowed to go on it. We shared classes together and they were working to take me out of my classes to make my health better. One of these classes was my favorite class - the class where the teacher treated me like an actual fucking human being, the class I felt the safest in, the class I would hide in even when the teacher was teaching a different class because I felt fucking safe, the class that I wasn't put in initially for some reason but fought to be in - and they simply chose to take me out of the class instead of punishing him. How the head guidance counselor, to my face, told me "how can you say your bully isn't a friend of yours? He took the time to skip a class because he was concerned about you, how is that NOT something a friend would do?" And how, when I simply couldn't take the abuse anymore, they kicked me out of the school, forcing me to go elsewhere, where I did. And I didn't make any lasting friends and people ignored me 90% of the time, and at that 10% they cared I felt like... I had to pretend that they didn't fucking ghost me 9/10 times... Only for that school to fucking shut down at the end of my junior year, forcing me to go to another high-school my senior year, where I really had no one... Because that girl was right. Everyone already had their friend groups... I couldn't be expected to break that.

I'm just... I'm just not okay.

[a-wanderin-whirlybird]

I posted 1,008 times in 2022

That's 146 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (1%)

1,000 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@scourge728

@firedrakewicked

@silly-bean

@rabbitsareheckincute

@ice-block

I tagged 242 of my posts in 2022

#invader zim - 10 posts

#yes - 7 posts

#gnu terry pratchett - 6 posts

#food - 5 posts

#batman - 4 posts

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#batfam - 3 posts

#look - 3 posts

#hell yes - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#look my boy is pining and i imagine kii might have had some kind of a crush but didnt realize it cause of the preassure on her

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Back on the Batclan AU cause I'm in the mood

The trip to the lake is still harsh even with the bats

But less cats die, and Tallstar survives cause Stephanie begged Jason to make sure he ate goddammit that's her favorite!

Mistyfoot takes over as Mistystar during this time and Alfred is happy to congratulate her she is grateful but confused by how he approaches her

Alfred is an enigma to the clans and no one can figure him out

Anyways to the lake

Once settled Jason, Leafpool and Crowfeather meet up to discuss the 3

Leafpool admits starclan has been harassing her about them which makes Crowfeather furious and Jason seethes

So they take a moment to cool off and discuss their options

Crowfeather has been working with Tallstae to find a better deputy than Onewhisker and they found a good candidate in Nightcloud

Crow then admits he doesn't want to be away from leafpool and would be willing to move where ever she goes

Jason encourages them to stay together

"It's obvious you deeply care about each other. Just because one cat couldn't juggle their duties as a Medicine cat and being a parent doesn't mean you cant!"

Leafpool admits she wants to be with crow but doesn't want to leave Thunderclan

They agree to approach Firestar first and tell him the situation then tell the clan as a whole

They ask Jason to go with them, hoping another medicine cat voicing his opinions will help, and Jason agrees but insists Redtip (Tim) comes to

He says they'll see why very quickly

They gather Tim and go to Firestar who is disappointed in his daughter

He agrees to let Crowfesther join if he can prove his loyalty which crow readily agrees to. He wants to be present in his mate and Kit's life and he already spoke to Tallstar who told him to follow his love

But Firestar tries to tell the clan himself and Tim blocks him, then this happens

The clan had gathered for some announcement but stopped as a ragged yowl left the leader's den.

"Don't be dumb! That's the last thing you want!" The voice of Redtip careened out into the camp making all eyes turn up. Redtip was blocking Firestar from leaving.

"Redtip I appreciate what you think-" firestar started only to be cut off.

"Don't tell me what I'm thinking! You don't know what's in my head! In your daughters mind! You do this and you'll only hurt everyone in your clan! Honesty is needed yes by why punish someone for loving?" The clan could only guess what was happening as suddenly voices went quiet. A few minutes later Firestar stepped out, followed closely by Redtip, Leafpool, Crowfeather and Doveslash. Firestar looked concerned but firm and Redtip was glaring at the gathered cats, almost asking them to misbehave.

"Cats of Thunderclan. I called you discuss a matter of the Warrior code. A matter that maybe, should have been talked about before. But first I wish to welcome Crowfeather to Thunderclan." Whispers filled the camp and Suddenly Doveslash was turning a look upon the warriors.

None dared speak their minds with the massive Tom staring them down. He may be a Medicine cat, but they had all seen him fight off a fox by himself on the journey. They knew he was capable.

"I will not speak for Crowfeather. His joining was his own decision, however onto the pressing matter. The Warrior code states that no Medicine cat may take a mate or have kits." The clan could sense where this was going. And the tension became tangible. "But this may not be the wisest rule. Who are we to say who can and cannot have kits or mates?"

"And what's to stop a Medicine cat from showing favoritism? Thats why we have the rule!" Ashfur spat. "You want to change it cause your own kit broke the rule! Don't ya?"

"Oh shut up! You decide to try and murder starclan because one Molly broke up with you!" Redtip suddenly spat and the clan froze. What? "Yeah. In the future. Doveslash knows these things. He always has! He'll the rest of Batclan does too! Doveslash just sees it clearer than the rest of us! You get turned down by Squirrelflight and decide to try and Murder her kits and after you die, you try to possess her future mate! Now shut up and sit down Ashfur."

The clan when cold and eyes turned to ashfur then to Redtip and Doveslash. Doveslash nodded.

See the full post

5 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

#4

Been working on this Fic since before the holidays! Invader Zim Ocs the lot of them.

Kiz and Kii belong to @messinwitheddie

Ophelia and Thred belong to @sketchydesertghost

Food For Thought

The Smeeterys of Irk churned away below the surface of the planet and the Mother Control Brain, Tallest Kii, turned an idea over in her mind. 

It was a rare day. The smog had been brushed aside by some combination of Wind and luck and the Night sky was clear above the land. It would remain so for a long time, according to her calculations. The Smeets and Smeetery workers did not know. But Kii saw and remembered a specific day, if only vaguely. A part of her, still clinging to the long gone past, wondered if she should let them see such a rare sight… like She had when Ophelia and Delta were around.

Thousands of years ago, In Hive Cadaver:

Fifi dodged the bustling drones with ease as she picked her way to Imperial Frylord Glip's special Kitchen. Her Brother was deeper in the Hive checking on a few loose ends for the upcoming ceremony and celebration. For when the Sun finally set, and the Irken Day truly began, the Hive would be hosting their 2 Allies in a celebration of their alliance. It was a Huge deal to Hive Cadaver, who often sat alone in the midst of any conflict.

Delta wanted to show as much Hospitality as possible. His infatuation, turned full on Love, for Kii drove him forward but Fifi also knew he greatly appreciated Tallest Ophelia as well. He wanted to Impress and give his 2 allies, his two Friends, a good time. A light flashed through Fifi's eyes, her scowl lightening slightly. 

She knew and feared when Delta was Measured, that he would be alone at the top. He was a social Irken by nature, and craved Equal footing with those around him. His position as a Priest Helped some, getting him closer to the Council of Priests, but they still only saw him as Tallest, not Delta. Fifi tried to provide company, but she knew she couldn't fill the space by herself. 

So when Kii first came into the picture Fifi knew Delta was craving that equal regard. And she Feared Kii would never give it to him, let alone acknowledge any of his strong suits. But Kii proved her wrong, and she thanked The Weaver everyday for that. Kii, while Harsh like Fifi, did not see Delta as below her. She didnt Worship him either thank Irk. She was sharp and serious and above all Caring, even if she buried it under all those quips. 

Then Ophelia joined the cause. Though cryptic at times, as an Oracle was want to be, she was open and kind like Fifi's brother. Delta had found his Swarm, as the older Priests and officers said, happily over Cyder after shift. And Fifi was Glad for it. So of course she would Guarantee this Celebration went off without a hitch.

She would triple check every aspect of the Alliance ceremony herself. Roles Be DAMNED, her brother was going to enjoy himself. Her Friend Kii would get a chance to relax and so would Kiz. 

And if Thred showed up Fifi wouldn't complain. The two drones had met briefly after Alliance negotiations with Ophelia a few weeks back. Thred had not been phased by Fifi's harsh and scowling moods, had even Called her a Blessing from the Weaver when they met! Fifi wondered if her Brother felt like this when Kii payed him compliments. Light and floating…

"Priestess! What bring ya round these parts?" Imperial Frylord Glip boomed as Fifi entered her kitchen. The Sharp Spicy smell of the Yulinip fruit fermented in a special cider mix filled the room as the Massive Round Frylord spooned large globs of Deadman's paste into a large bowl. 

Glip was a Fat and tall lady, though she preferred the title Frylord. She had the softest and kindest smile with a slow drawl in her voice. She was always warm and comforting. Fifi did not mind being around her. 

Glip was a rare beauty even in their Hive. Jet black skin shone with iridescent colors like rainbows on spilt oil. Sparkling gold Chitin covered her body like Stars. Well fed, strong, and most of all, warm, Lady Glip had many suitors in Hive Cadaver. But she was only interested in her cooking and fermentation. Fifi respected that, Glip knew who she was, and loved herself fully.

It was funny, Fifi thought, Glip had gotten her Position shortly before Delta hit his growth spurt. Glip had been a young Frylord in the kitchens when Late Tallest Fiddle had found her experimenting with a better fermentation liquid for the all Important Deadman's Paste. The Paste was incredibly spicy but needed a massive punch of flavor. Fifi remembered the one time she and Delta tried the Hot Pot Deadman's Paste was used for as Smeets. It had been Hot sure. Very hot, but that was It. No flavor, just heat. Tallest Fiddle had been severely disappointed. 

Then Glip had gotten it into her head to Fix it without the former Imperial Frylord finding out. She stole the ingredients and the guarded Recipe for the paste and worked and worked for Years. Until Fiddle found her and tried the experimental paste. Fiddle had fired the old Imperial Frylord then and there and Promoted the Young Glip for her care and obsession with true flavor. Ever since no one complained about any food that came from the Mess halls. Glip insisted on strict quality control, but also welcomed changes and improvements so long as they passed Quality testing. 

Fifi, no All of the Hive knew there was no Frylord better. 

"I am simply making my usual rounds Frylord." Fifi said and Glip smiled widely. 

"Well Ma'am ah know ya don't enjoy as much heat as yer brother but Ah got some new pies ya might like. The new Apprentice down in the fifth Crypt Mess had been experimenting and found a great new fillin!" Glip bragged about the apprentices a lot. They were her legacy, she said. And Fifi believed it. 

"I would not begrudge a taste. You and the apprentices only allow the finest into the hands of the Hive." Fifi said plainly. Glip laughed and blushed a bright Violet. 

"Aw Shucks Fifi, that's Mighty Kind of ya! We just want good food for yall, nothing more!" Glip said, grabbing a small Steaming pie from the counter. It was made of Hot Nitro Crust pastry, giving it a silvery sheen and a short texture. It was in the shape of a pair of wings, a symbol of good fortune in Hive Cadaver, and smelled of tangy, and sharp veggies. Fifi could pick out the faintest whiff of Gurlic Meal, a rare delicacy in the Hive made from dried and ground Gurlic worms. 

Fifi Idly wondered if Delta had harvested his colony of Gurlics too soon in an attempt to impress. But Glip seemed to know the answer.

"Ah had saved some Gurlic meal from tha Last batch Tallest Delta had made. When the apprentice came asking about it ah gave him a little to experiment with. It adds a great flavor profile to tha mellow Siggurain Root Pulp and tha Black Heel Fungus. Should be Nutty and tangy with ah fresh aftertaste of Citrus!" Glip explained as Fifi tasted.

It was exactly as Glip said. A smooth puree of Siggurain root gave the entire pie a silky texture and a nice clear citrus aftertaste on top of its mellow flavor, with chewy Rich Black Heel fungus adding Tang to the entire pie. The Gurlic Meal shot through with a crumbly texture in the crust and the nutty flavor the Hive adored.

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9 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

#3

More of the usual Batfam has!

I said I'd come back to Jason and Pigeons/doves yeah?

Well he keeps them, he has a coop on top of his apartment building that he built.

He takes very good care of his flock and even Damien can't find fault in his care for them

They are all named after his favorite book characters

They are really smart birds and know who Jason is in and out of costume! Once Jason was held by Joker who was bragging about killing him again

Only to be SWARMED by flock of angry Pigeons and Doves

Joker fears the birds now

Jason gave them so many treats for that

BRUCE gave the birds treats for that!

More Meatloaf? More Meatloaf

So Meatloaf, Tim's Sphinx, absolutely has Opinions on his dates

She likes Brenard well enough, he supplies treats but doesn't really stop Tim from pulling all nighters

Then again Meatloaf is the only one besides Alfred who can reliably make Tim go to bed at any point

Meatloaf ended up following Tim on patrol once

Red Robin was facing Scarecrow when this sweater wearing bald cat showed up screeching in a mechanical voice "SLEEP NOW!" Repeatedly

It freaked Crane out a bit but didn't stop him from trying to fight Tim

Only for said cat to latch onto his face and start viciously clawing his face while chanting Sleep Now

Crane got a new fear that night

And Tom had a heart attack and took Meatloaf home imediatly

Sadly it didn't STOP HER FROM FOLLOWING HIM BACK OUT

She kept doing this till he went back to the manor and went to bed

Alfred has asked Meatloaf to do that to Bruce but they know it won't work

So instead they have Meatloaf translate for Ace to convince Bruce to take a God damned break!

Look Meatloaf knows which pets will convince which Bat to rest

Some don't need convincing, Steph, Duke and Barabra will gladly take breaks when they need to

Others are more stubborn

So Meatloaf started a sorta vigilante group of her own

It's made of herself, Jason's flock of birds, Ace, King Murder (Damian's puppy), Haley (Dick's Dog), Bat cow and a few of the bats that live in the batcave

They team up to ensure their bullhead humans rest and don't die of exauhstion

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9 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

#2

I'm sick with a stomach bug so while I'm laying in bed Batfam headcannons

If anyone in the mansion gets sick Alfred makes them take a break until they are at 100 percent again

Yes even you Master Bruce

You can't bribe Alfred he will make you stay home

Everyone has their own sick meals that the others make for them those who aren't sick usually run to get supplies while Alfred cares for the sick ones

Jason does help make the soups occasionally if he isn't sick

But more often than not Jason and or Dick and Damien are on Guard duty to ensure the patient doesn't try to go on patrol.

As for everyone's go to sick foods

Bruce always wants the classic chicken noodle soup if his stomach can handle it. It's an old Wayne recipe and one of the many he has memorized and has made for his own kids. Alfred always makes it for him when Bruce is sick.

Said chicken noodles soup is made from a bone broth, The household has a habit of keeping the bones from meals to make broths and chicken is no different. The bones are stewed with meat, fat and cartilage still clinging to it for several hours at a low simmer. Adding in celery salt, garlic, onion powder, oregano and a dash of ground ginger the broth itself is super comforting. Alfred adds back in any leftover chicken from the carcass or a previous dinner and adds lightly sautéed onion. Carrot and celery. Finally adding in to the serving bowl a healthy mound of egg noodles and the soup is ready

Dick wants goulash if he can handle it, the recipe was one his father used to make for him when he was sick as a little kid. Slow simmered beef chunks in a tomato based broth with soft flavorful onion and garlic and served over a Maize porridge.

Alfred spent years when dick first arrived piecing the recipe back together from Dick's vague memories of helping his father make it. When the recipe was completed it was spot on to how Dick remembered it.

Jason wants toast with peanut butter that's it. He is prone to stomach bugs and does not want anything too heavy. On occasion when he is sick but can eat more he wants The Wayne's chicken noodles soup.

Barbara likes Rice when sick. Too many flavors never helps her feel better so the plainer the better. She may add a tiny bit of butter but not much else

Tim wants tomatos. That's it. This boy only wants tomatoes when sick but can't exactly get away with only tomatoes so he usually has a tomato soup. He is banned from caffeine when sick and it usually only makes ot worse (briefly) before the headache passes.

Stephanie wants Irish Potato soup and toast when sick. Fatty ham fried until slightly brown and them drowned in a light chicken broth with potatoes. It always makes her feel better. It's salty too, so she knows she is staying hydrated with how much water she downs when eating it.

Cass didn't get sick days growing up and is still unsure what she would prefer. Usually Bruce makes her the Wayne family Chicken noodle soup, but she usually doesn't want to eat when sick.

I Honestly don't know what Duke would ask for when sick. But it would be warm and feel like a Hug. I still don't know much about Duke and I will circle back to him as I get a better feel for him I promise!

Damien wants either lentil soup or Congee. His Grandmother was Arabic and Chinese, and Talia would give him either Congee when he needed something bland, or Lentil soup if he needed nutrition. (Good Mom Talia only in this house) the first time Damian got sick at the manor Bruce contacted Talia and asked for the recipes. She came over and taught him and The other Bats (mainly Jason and Stephanie since they can actually follow a recipe) how to make not just those dishes, but several others Damien loves.

When Bruce ended up sick later that month Damien insisted Alfred taught him how to make the Wayne Chicken noodle soup, but added a few tweaks (cardamom and Colocasia aka Egyptian Taro) Bruce loved it and the recipe was added to the Wayne family recipe collection

Now when Alfred is sick, The Batfam all stay in, calling in friends and allies to cover their patrols. Alfred takes care of them they take care of him. He prefers simple chicken broth if he is truly bad or Eggs and soldiers if he is feeling OK.

Note, when Alfred is sick the Nats split up his duties based on who can do what without giving the man a heart attack. This means

Jason, Stephanie, Duke and Damien have the kitchen. They cook for everyone but especially Alfred

Dick, and Cass clean any mess that happens.

Bruce, Tim and Barbara do paperwork duties and errands

If the Bats absolutely have to go out on Patrol they fight over who stays behind to care for Alfred. One from each of the sections remains behind. More often than not it ends up being Jason in the Kitchen, Dick cleaning, and Barabra doing errands ect.

If all of the Bats are sick (Alfred included), Diana and Clark usually drop by to make sure both the Bats don't set themselves on fire/try to work, and that Gotham stays protected.

The day Wonder Woman showed up and kicked Joker's teeth in was documented by many a confused hostage and one Overjoyed and very Flustered Harley Quinn.

When the press asked why Wonder Woman was in Gotham she said the Bats needed a sick day and it was duly noted by all of the rogue Gallery.

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19 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'm gonna write a bit on my Invader Zim OCs today, specifically the 5 Star Alliance! Its an alliamce of 5 Hives stationed on a large Island in the middle of the ocean. For context I headcannon that the ocean is made of either Hydrogen or Nitrogen. Irkens Hydrate by absorbing moisture through their skin, though it isnt water.

Some basic Alliance information. The 5 Star Alliamce was an Ancient Alliance made of 5 Hives. On the Coast was Hive Opal, they commonly had Natural Pak legs and could skim across the Oceans like water Skimmers. They made up the Bulk of the Alliance Navy force and supplied the other Hives with Seafood and resources found only at sea.

Beyond the coasts was a vast windswept Desert where Hive Sol sat. Hive Sol commonly had camoflauge based mutations or Bioluminece. They acted as the spies and Historical archives. Hive Sol has the largest collection of lost knowledge on Irk including a Genetics Vault. At its peak Hive Sol had information on the movements of every Hive on Irk.

Just beyond the Desert was a large tract of extremely fertile land. Hive Traktor lived here, tending to the land and keeping the Alliance fed. The Irkens of Hive Traktor also worked to ensure the other territories had some farm land available in case Hive Traktor ever fell. Their innovations and agricultural theories were advanced for their time before the Hive's collapse. They also worked and created the Alliance's massive network of trade routes across the island and the world at large.

Hive Traktor's land ends at the foot of a sheer cliff. Formerly active Volcanoes these mountains are impenetrable, unless you cross through Hive Geo. Hive Geo's entire territory is underground, this means the most common mutations in the Hive are Bioluminece, dark Vision, and Melanin heavy skin tones. Hive Geo is a Mining and Smithing Hive, they mine out valuable metals and gems from their mountain homes and share them across the Alliance. Their homes are protected by the Mountains themselves as the only way through to the Final Hive is by going through Hive Geo or their Mines.

Finally within the Ring of Mountains that make up Hive Geo is a massive tropical basin. Dense rainforest dotted with open meadows fills the space and is Home to Hive Octave. Hive Octave is composed of mostly Female Irkens, something very rare, and they have long Corkscrew antenna which allows each Hive member to hear even the slightest change in tone or Pitch. Hive Octave are the Foot soldiers of the Alliance and the Crafts men. Art is both a weapon and the highest honor in the Hive. Hive Octave citizens often travel to other Hives in the Alliance to assist with any projects from construction to Festival planning. The Frylords of the Alliance go to Hive Octave to train as well.

These 5 Hives made up the 5 Star Alliance. To ensure each Hive remained true to the Alliance many of Irk's important festivals and events were taken on as a group. All wars were fought with all 5 members adding to the army. In particular Fertility Festivals were held together.

For Fertility Festivals the Hives Tallest would separate the fertile Irkens into 2 groups. First would be those who stayed behind for a Local Fertility festival, as they were dubbed "lesser" either due to health, height, or unwanted genetic material being present. This group would have their own festival on a much smaller scale. The second group were those who were dubbed worthy and would go to the Mass Festival held with all 5 hives. Every Hive brought something specific to these events and were encouraged to have swarms with drones outside their Hives. This kept unity and diversity within the alliance.

More specific details on the Hives and their historical figures will come in another post. But the Founders will be touched on!

The legend of how the Five Star Alliance was found is less Myth and more History. While some elements were fabricated the core of the myth is truth.

The Alliamce began with The Colossus died and her empire Splintered. The founders were five taller Irkens each of whom carried the mutations common in their hives. The five of them had been friends under the Colossus' rule and tried to stick together. When the fighting began the friend gathered as many cadets, Smeets and Drones together and fled for the sea. They set sail, hoping to find a new home away from the fighting. They sailed for 5 years and began to lose hope that they would ever find land again. Then one night they saw five stars shoot across the sky and fall upon a single spot in the distant horizon. As they watched the five Taller Irken heard the Weaver speak to them as she guided them to a new home. Upon landing on the island they would call home The Weaver spoke once more. She divided the land into five parcels, giving one to each Taller Irken to rule. From there the five friends built their hives and created the Alliance.

Hive Opal was founded by Tallest Reef, he had Natural Pak legs and took to the sea with ease. Those who also took to the sea stayed within his Hive.

Hive Sol was founded by Tallest Apollo, he was iridescent and gleamed in the moonlight. He was a scholar and a nosy Tallest. Those who took to knowledge and spy work stayed within his Hive.

Hive Traktor was founded by Tallest Terra. She was slim yet strong and loved to grow and care for the flora and fauna. Those with a knack for agriculture and botany stayed within her Hive.

Hive Geo was founded by Tallest Slate, he was as Grey as the stones he mined. He had a sixth sense for mining and forging. He took to the mountains and those with a passion for mining joined his Hive.

Finally Hive Octave was founded by Tallest Octavius. He had long Corkscrew antenna and was dotted with dark spots. He was an artistic and maternal fellow who discovered how to turn art into a means of defense. Those with an artistic flair joined his Hive.

These five were the founders of the Five Star Alliance. They wrote the first set of laws the Alliance must abide by. A set of Laws that Tallest Olst, the last Tallest of Hive Traktor, would disregard, thus ending 3 out of the 5 Hives in the late first Era. But more on him later. This is the basics of the Alliance.

26 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

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[soft-boi-eli]

OMG CAN I REQUEST CC!PHILZA INTRODUCING HIS ADOPTED EMO CHILD TO THE REST OF THE SBI/DSMP

Gender neutral pls they/them

Of course! I've been having a bit of shortages on ideas. So this is so fucking welcomed.

Anyways

Father CC!Philza x Emo! Reader

Pronouns:they/them

Summary:your old parents gave you up as a teen, overflowing you with emotions, causing depression, mood swings, and quite a bit of anxiety. When you got adopted by a man and a lady,both seemingly very kind and understanding. You felt happy. They didnt expect the sleepy bois to come and visit so soon.

Tw:anxiety attacks, mention of depression, loving clothes (not a tw but damn I sometimes miss my old fashion sense.), mention of trauma, swearing!

A huge new family

They dont blame their biological family. They knew that they were being overwhelming. Slowly shifting into a state of mind where fluffy black and colored hair was their favorite. Their outfits became more extravagant and their makeup took a turn for the darker. But they didnt have to put them up for adoption.

About a year in and out of foster families, a few months in an orphanage, then one more foster family. It was official. They were the new child of philza.

Your life got better. Both of them accepted your choice of clothes and makeup, even supported it!

They helped with everything in the first few weeks. Giving you space, letting you know that they were there. But you nor phil knew that three boys were heading down to visit.

So when you answered the door to see three faces demanding philza minecraft and one just looking awkward. They were also changing about him coming and join them you felt panic flood through you. Slamming the door on their face you held near your chest.

Your uneven breathing was heard by your father and he was quick to scoop you away from the door and have kristin answer the door.

He was sitting next to you hand lightly rubbing your shoulder and he guided you through the panic attack. "That's it. In through the nose. Hold it for a few second. Breathe out." His voice was calm.

It took less time to calm you down then you've ever had. "There ya go mate. Just keep breathing." He kept coaching you through you panic attack.

Kristen let the four in with their promise of keeping calm. Your shaking form brought major concern to the two older ones and confusion to the two younger ones. "(Y/n) I want to introduce you to the four behind us. Technoblade, wilbur, tommy, and tubbo. They are really good friends of mine." Nodding lightly you sat there, not wanting to turn because if you did the panic would strike harder. Remembering what happened before you parents left you.

A huge group of people basically shunned your for your choices and didnt want to take you in because 'trash like you' wasnt accepted in the family. But these two were different. Supporting you with your choices. How different were their friends? "Hey I think you shirt is cool! Who's on it?" A slightly hyper voice broke through the silence. " black veil brides." It was quite but a start. "Cool! So their a band right? What kind of songs?" The brown haired teen was trying to communicate with you. "Uhm. Rock." It had started small but you opened up to the teens. They were about you age and they didnt bash what you decided to like. The two older ones hung out with phil and Kristen. You three hung out in your room which was kind of softer then your appearance. It was to reflect a bit deeper into you. Bookshelves, a desk, reading corner, and a bed. Not fully knowing what to put in there.

But you, tommy, and tubbo were almost the best of friends when they had to leave. Techno and Wilbur it took a bit. After the two teens left you had came out of your room, no makeup, hair had all products removed, and your clothes changed from Jean's and a black veiled brides shirt to a black tee shirt, grey sweat pants, with a book in hand.

Before sleeping you just chilled in the living room, reading while basking in the presence of your adoptive parents. You did not expect wilbur and techno to still be there.

Plopping down on the couch next to phil you opened your book and tried to zone out, to get engulfed into the book. Nope. Two sets of eyes just watching you.

"So you like poems?" The book you were reading was a massive collection of poems. Looking up to the two on the couch you nodded lightly.

Looking back down you felt nervous. "Small talk is awkward." Looking up to the brown haired guy with an American accent you nodded. "Same." Once more you looked down at your book. You already had issues focusing but you tried to work though it. "What kind of poems are you favorite?" You sat there for a second. Trying to think of something that catches your attention.

"Mainly ones about trauma. It reminds me I'm not the only one in the word that went through something I have. It just makes it more interesting when I can relate." It was true. Sometimes the poems you liked ring a little to close to home.

"Good choice. It does really intrigue the audience when they can relate." Nodding you closed your book. "Especially when you relate. It's a must for me. Other wise I get turned away from it and just cant focus. But if I like it then I am just dead set on that poem."

You and techno bonded over poems and wilbur brought up some songs. "So what is you song preference?" "Hollywood undead, black veil brides, other then that its random. If I like the song it's in my playlist." With no other preferences with music other then it had to sound good to you there was honestly no judgement for other people's taste in music. There were little treasures from almost all genres.

For a while you talked about poems and songs. It honestly helped you feel safer with them. They didnt care about what you found intriguing. Or why. You even went on a rant and there was no care. They just listened.

But sadly they had to leave. Bit they promised that they would visit more. They were like the brothers you never had.

"So I see that you were able to talk to all of them." Nodding to your father figure you smiled "they were nice. Honestly. I cant wait to see them again."

He found joy in you wanting to hang out with his friends/technically children too.

Now meet the rest of the dream smp. It was very fast. Meeting almost all of them at the same time.

Phil was streaming and no one except for the sleepy bois knew about you. So you walked into his stream, book in hand and sat on the couch behind his set up. You liked having another person on the room. You just hated being alone. It gave you really bad thoughts. "Who's that behind you phil?" A random donation read out. Phil looking behind himself saw you in the corner reading and you normally did. "Ah that's my child. They like to have company. So sometimes they come in here to read." "Wait you have a child?! Since when?" The voice made you jump. Your book fell out of your hands and you looked at your father's screen. A green man with a weird white blob for a skin on minecraft. "Yeah. I took a break to pick them up from the orphanage." All hell broke loose. You ran while phil answered questions. You were not dealing with that. No way. Nuh uh. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Not today satan. It took phil bribing you with a trip to hot topic to get you to come back in. I mean hey you get to score a few shirts and hats. Might as well.

Meeting the server wasbt too bad. But the questions were weird. You didnt answer the ones you were uncomfortable about and they didnt care. Your boundries were up. And when tommy, tubbo, willbur, and techno revealed they knew of you they were yelled at. It was funny. Watching people say they should of said something. But it resulted in alot of compliments and Phil's chat loving you.

You were now the older sibling of the chat. Why? Cause chat said so.

When you come in from now on the chat is chanting for you. Just "(y/n)!" Over and over.

Your life? Crazy. But it became a bit better after you were living with your new parents. It was heaven.

I'm sorry if its awkward I'm not good at introductions. And I am tis but a sleep deprived human. I need sleep and so do you have a nice day and once more I'm sorry if this isnt up to what you wanted.

[technowoah]

since I'm a gremlin I can ask for a c!Schlatt angst fighting with reader while he's drunk and the reader is just fed up with dealing with him and goes "IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" and just walks away and he realizes the shit he's done?

(the same anon who wasn't prepared to be heartbroken-)

Heartless

Somehow you find your way back to Schlatt again and it never goes as well as you think.

- c!schlatt x reader

- angst

- anon!requested

- part 1 to this story

⚠︎: swearing, angst, alcoholism, mentions of dying, c!quackity makes a appearance, hopefully this is sad enough yall-

An// i decided to make this a part 2 to Have a Heart! So I hope you enjoy love!

The night is still cold and dark as you begrudgingly walk back to one of the buildings that was put up to replace whatever L'Manburg was there before. 

After Dream's word you had still contemplated going back to Schlatt. He doesn't deserve what you do, but you still end up walking along the Prime Path back to the drunken man. You had no end goal and that was a problem. You probably were going to be embarrassed that you came back to him. You couldn't let Schlatt die, from either the hands of someone else or let him die from himself.

You eventually found yourself in front of the metal doors that led into endless hallways of offices nobody occupied. The offices that had wine and cigarettes for Schlatt to smoke just in case he decided to have a meeting in a room that isn't the official meeting room. 

Walking down the hallways you saw that most of the doors to each office were open and most of the alcohol and cigarettes were taken from each room. You peaked inside every room to see if Schlatt was in there, but something in you told you not to because you weren't prepared. What were you going to say? Stop drinking? Because you're sure he'll know he's not going to stop. You want to try to save him.

You slowly opened a door to reveal an office that looked an absolute mess. The small refrigerator was knocked over and all of the wine off the shelf was either shattered on the floor or gone. There were cigarette butts on the ground and lit a cigar, there were also papers and folders all across the room.

You whispered as you walked around the lit room "Schlatt must've been in here."

"Sure as hell he was!"

You spun around to see Quackity looking disheveled as ever. He had a bottle of liquor in his hand, his beanie threatened to fall off of his head and his suit now only a white button up with his dress pants still on.

"I've been running around this goddamn place trying to keep that ram man at peace! He's gonna drink himself to death." Quackity huffed while looking around the hallway.

"I know." 

"That's why you're here huh?"

You sighed at the realization. "Yes it is. I don't want him to drink himself to death. Death isn't what I want."

"Well, it's too late for that." Quackity faced away from you not wanting to look you in the eyes.

You stayed silent until Quackity spoke up again.

"You want me to take you to him? Wanna see him one last time before he dies-"

"Don't say that!" You rolled your eyes 

"Are you fucking kidding me? It's inevitable Y/N! His body is now 70 percent alcohol and his lungs are filled with smoke!" Quackity laughed in disbelief. "I don't want him to die! But its fucking inevitable. Either from someone else or-"

"Himself." You finished his sentence.

"Exactly!" He opened his mouth to speak again but apparently decided against it.

Quackity began to lead you out of the office and down the long hallway you two walked slowly not even knowing where Schlatt was in the whole building. You and Quackity made small talk.

"I hate this. I had to find this liquor and deliver it to him and now I can't find him."

"I came here to try and save him from himself and you're here feeding the problem."

"What else do you want me to do?" He grunted.

"Stop him!"

"If I stop him he's gonna be even worse so-!" Quackity threw up his hands in frustration as you two kept walking.

"I actually have something to tell you." Quackity spoke up after the silence.

"Quackity! Ah there you are!" Schlatt came around the corner behind you both and you turned around to meet the man you both have been looking for stumbling down the hallway.

"Ah you bitch! I thought I told you to leave!"

"Here we go." You rolled your eyes.

"Hey Schlatt! Here's the Liquor you wanted!" Quackity tried to liven up the situation by reaching the bottle out to Schlatt.

"He doesn't need it."

"Yeah I do, who are you to tell me what to do!" Schlatt yelled, not even taking the drink out of Quackity's hand. 

"Schlatt just calm down-"

"No! They made a mistake and they cant even do what I fucking say! They'll keep coming back to me, against my wishes!" Schlatt interrupted Quackity while flailing his arms around.

You stood still not wanting to hear him anymore. Ever since he won the presidential debate the first couple of months he's been sober with only a few drinks here and there. Now he's a full on alcoholic, only damaging himself and his presidency. It's a sad sight to see and you don't want to see it, so you can either run away and know it's still there or fix it and never see it again. 

"Schlatt I want to help." You hesitated before stepping forward.

"Same here Schlatt." Quackity agreed with you.

"You, you! Aren't any help!" He pointed directly at you while trying to keep himself upright. 

"How aren't I any help!?" You yelled back. "I've done everything for you and now you're digging yourself a grave Schlatt!"

"You think you're the best thing ever huh?! Im fucking fine! I can stand on my own two fucking feet!"

Schlatt wasn't standing up straight, he was stumbling either backwards or forward. His body threatened to fall onto the marble floor and he couldn't even stand up straight. His speech was slurring together as well you could barely understand him.

You finally responded to Schlatt. "Schlatt you're stumbling around like- like I don't even know what! I can't understand you and you just need to stop!"

"You're so useless! Not useful to me or my presidency! I can stand up straight and I'm completely fine shut the fuck up!" He yelled while leaning to the side.

"I'd rather die alone! Without you or Quackity." Schlatt yelled again

"That's what you're going to do anyways." Quackity whispered under his breath.

Schlatt kept babbling nonsense as his back slid down one of the walls as he sat on the floor. Head pulled to the side. It was a sad sight to see, you hated to see this man drink himself to death and apparently Quackity, who was looking at the ram man the same way, standing silently next to you.

"Schlatt this-"

"I dont fucking care what you think! You're the worst person I've ever met! You both made my life hell and that's why Im fucking drinking my life away so I wont see any of you're fucking faces!" Schlatt tried to stand up but failed in doing so.

He continued talking. "I am the best thing that happened to this country! I saved both of you from a tyrant! And you thank me by driving me into this state!" 

You felt your eyes threatening to spill tears the second time today.

"Schlatt that isn't me that's doing this shit!" 

"How the fuck would you know?!" 

"I can't. But Ive done every fucking thing for you! You cannot say I haven't!" You yelled back as he rolled his eyes with a rebuttal already on the tip of his tongue.

"Sure as hell I can! I have fucking proof-!"

"What proof?!" You interrupted his babbling even though he kept going.

"I- I!" he stammered not having a rebuttal this time.

"You're incapable of doing anything Schlatt let someone help you for fucks sake-"

"I'd rather die alone than sit here and be lectured by the likes of you!" Schlatt yelled.

"You are going to die alone, old man!" Quackity spoke up. "That's what they're trying to tell you!" 

"You shouldn't be giving me a lecture! Im the mother fucking president! I should be talking, but apparently its not fucking work-" 

"IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" You interrupted him and stomped down the hallway for the second time today.

As you walked down the hallway you heard a faint "wait" from Schlatt on the floor. You stopped and looked back to see Schlatt looking at you with some sort of realization in his eyes. Quackity was standing over him shaking his head.

"You know what? I don't even know why I helped you. Probably for power, but I don't need you for that." Quackity walked away towards your way. "Go ahead and die alone like you said old man." 

Quackity caught your gaze and he smiled and shook his head again. He finally reached where you were standing and started talking to you.

"Maybe this isn't a good time, maybe it is. But I am joining Pogtopia. Wilbur said he needs a lot of people for this to work so consider this an invitation." He gave you a thin lipped smile and walked past you giving you a good look at Schlatt, laying fully on the ground.

"Y/N wait, just hold on for a second." Schlatt said while on his side, not even bothering to look at you.

You didn't say anything and followed Quackity's path, down the hallway and out of the door. Behind you, you could only hear the distant groans and pleas of the drunken man behind you. You tried your best to help and that's all you could do. But you couldn't watch that man die.

Taglist: MCYT Imagines: @annshit @bobaducky @malfoysslutt @alec-lost-bee @egorldevi

[jjkpls]

set your world alight (m)

genre : fluff, smut, tiny lil bit of angst

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

word count : 24k (eye-)

warnings/content : mentions of bruises, mature language, long haired jaykay, awkwardness & cutesy overload, clumsy frustrating idiot(s), bratty reader, explicit sexual content (fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex), HARRYPOTTER!AU (i cant believe i forgot to precise that in the teasers), jeon as charlie weasley, pretty much.

Jeon Jungkook is a mystery. Master of dragons. Long dark locks hiding a face most have never seen. Skin covered in scars. A brave, unpenetrable, curious being that you don’t know much about for, the very few times you’ve seen him in your life, you didn’t dare talk to him. Of course, you’d have the fatest crush on him.

“If we add roses instead of eucalyptus, wouldn't it turn into a love potion?”

You could have predicted it. If you were to have spent your evening scribbling the course that this morning, with the introducing of a new potion to your year 6 class, would take, solely based on intuition and experience, you would have gotten it right. Down to who's asking the question. 

“No, it won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Are you? After having spent your whole schooling career in Hogwarts, having studied the art of potion-making for five years filled with internships in the four corners of this Earth, in the greatest House of Potions there are, are you sure?

You could say all that. You could even tell to this annoying Gryffindor to shut the hell up because everyone, and you first, can’t stand to hear her voice anymore, interrupting constantly every lesson either with pointless questions or with obnoxious jabber.

But you don’t. Obviously, you don’t. 

“For now, let’s just focus on learning what the actual recipe is. We’ll worry about interchanging ingredients later.”

Which is almost a lie. You won’t ever do that with them. You have your tight program, with a limited amount of recipes, that you’re supposed to go through with them. And creating new potions, or adapting already existing one to discover new effects are not on the plan. Not with Mrs Umbridge watching closely over every Hogwarts teachers' shoulders. 

If they ever still find themselves obsessed with their dating life and enlarged pores once they'll be done with school, they will worry, on their very own, about creating the magic juices and ointments they need -given their lack of attention, investment and overall talent, you do sincerely hope they drop it because the results might lead to catastrophes but that's beside the point. 

Miss Gryffindor sighs loudly. Turning slightly on her chair to roll her eyes to her friends, who snicker along, they’re whispering Merlin knows what about you and you’re just left there, trying to find your way back to the lesson without losing too much of your composure. 

It doesn’t take you so much effort because unfortunately you are used to this. This class of Gryffindor is terrible. In your couple of years of teaching, you’ve never fallen upon a class filled with so many disinterested, awfully rude teenagers. Naively, when you just walked out of Hogwarts yourself almost ten years ago, when you were wondering with a certain dreadful desperation, what path to head for, you had finally chosen the teaching one, believing that by the time you’ll become a teacher, you’ll be old enough and teenagers would stop being scary by then, you might even grow a little fond of them, embodiment of a something long time gone, of nostalgia. 

You were wrong. At twenty-six, you still feel like a barely done with teenagehood human, hardly an adult yet. The weapons you thought you’d gather along the way didn’t appear in your robe’s pockets as you thought they would. 

Instead, you only have one, effective on an immediate use, but pretty useless on the long run: a monk’s patience. 

You can ignore them. When they’re being so aggravating, you consider sometimes taking a hundred points away from their house -but you don’t because you’ll have to justify to the very biased Head of Gryffindor and fucking Umbridge-, you can ignore them. It’s the most effective way to react as it doesn’t feed them much, they just get annoyed with your unresponsiveness and decide to contain their disruption between themselves. The thing is, the steam has to blow some way, somehow. It’s fine when you can wake up early and spend an hour or so meditating, to gather all of your monk's potential, or if you ever have a Draught of Peace laying around, that can help too. 

These days, it’s just harder to meditate, to try and keep your mind light, unbothered and calmly content.

So much harder that by the end of the class, only fifteen minutes left, you snap and end up taking off ten points from Gryffindors. 

There’s a lot of whining, of strident eruptions of indignation, however, you’re smart enough to do it the moment you’re dismissing your class and they have to leave, sulking and hating you with a passion, for their next lesson. 

“What have you done?” It’s Taehyung asking. He has a little alarmed look shading his abnormally handsome face, but a tiny little tremble of the corner of his mouth gives him away. 

“Ten points.” You state with a bored raised of your eyebrows. What a bunch of babies. 

“You suck. They’re going to hate me too, now.”

Which is not true. Immature profiles like them would tend to hate a teacher simply by association -it is to say that Taehyung is well known to be always stuck to your shoes, you grew up together anyway- but they would never Taehyung. He’s too handsome, has a voice way too sultry, too much charisma for anyone to hate him, especially his students. They can't stand his lessons though. He’s the worst option for a History of Magic teacher. He is passionate about his studies, really really passionate. Therefore his classes, in summarise, turn into him ranting non-stop, jumping from the main point to tiny insignificant streams made of pointless anecdotes that leave his students lost and confused, holes in their parchments, hands burning from their poor attempt at trying to take notes. His classes are Hell, made of boredom and confounding. The only upside being that he’s very nice to look at. He’s like an ancient mage stuck inside an elf body. 

“Do you know how many times this year I’ve had to tell them that ‘no, this potion that has nothing to do with a love potion can’t be turned into one’? Why do I have to deal with their hormones all the time, seriously?”

“You mean, on top of yours?” It freezes you on the spot You could have heard that coming, with the big old ton-heavy boots. You don’t bother looking up from your papers you are reorganising. It’s pointless because you already know what you’d see. The smart ass’s shit-eating grin, singularly square at the edges, with the mischievous squinted eyes and subjective dance of the eyebrows. 

“Shut up.”

“I can’t. I know you love talking about him since you don’t talk to him.”

The shame is burning the back of your neck. It’s climbing up your cheeks, taking over your ears in the process. If there’s one person who does wonders at not-making-you-feel-like-an-adult, it’s Kim Taehyung. Because of course he saw you grow up, and of course, he’s noticed that the timid, coward of a little Ravenclaw you used to be, hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re so mean.”

“Am not too.” He giggles as he leaps from the front table he had been sitting on to your desk, where he takes a seat, not caring about your quill holder that he knocks down. “You’re never going to try?” 

“I don’t know, Tae.”

“He doesn’t look mean. A bit gruff but I guess that’s what living like a wild creature surrounded by the wildest creatures makes you look like.” 

You hum non-committally. You have come to the same conclusion already. But you hate the idea that you could be right because it gives you one less reason to not dare approach him. “He must be nice.”

“He must?” You cackle a bit. He doesn’t even sound so sure of this statement. Taehyung smiles along, shrugging with a tilt of his head. 

“Well, I don’t know. But you have to talk to him. Soon he’ll be portkeying back to his Transylvania-“

“Romania.”

“-you won’t see him ever again. And also, seriously, it’s been like, what, three months since he’s back?”

“Actually, it’s been barely a month.” The idiot is pretending, with a grandiloquent theatrical performance, that he doesn’t believe you, that somehow you’re trying to deceive him. And it’s ridiculous because no matter how dramatic he always aims to be, no matter how long indeed this whole pinning over the pretty guy without having the courage to act on your feelings has been lasting, it still has not been three months. It’s been three weeks and four days, not that you're counting. 

He arrived on a rainy Friday morning, you remember it well because the wet weather agitated the frogs an awful lot and you ended up spending your ten minutes of break between two classes, on all fours, crawling along the hallways of Hogwarts to try and retrieve three escapees. 

A real joy. 

Especially when he appeared at the end of the hallway. Soaked to the bones but not seemingly caring, as opposed to Mr Filch who seemed even angrier than he usually does. You barely recognised him, from so far, looking up from the ground, with the hood of his heavy coat low above his eyes, nothing peculiar in his appearance that would give him away, not a word uttered that could have helped. Until he turned the corner of the hallway, and the emblem of this foreign school of wizardry appeared. With the purple embroidery contouring the white seagull, it just clicked. You remembered the rumours spreading wildly, excitedly around the castle, that despite the very vindicative Mrs Umbridge's opinion, dragons would be introduced this year to the course of Care for the Magical Creatures and real dragons, seen by their master, would be flying to you and inhabit the grounds of Hogwarts for this semester.

And of course, it would be him. With his impressive resume, or that unauthorised biography written about him by that one stingy journalist singing his lauds that you could read anywhere -there was even a version, presented as fiction, that’s been published in the muggle world- and also, his first and last visit to Hogwarts, two years ago, for the Triwizard Tournament when he proved his talent and bravery in front of all by forcefully regaining control over a Horntail that was just about to chew a few students’ heads off after having eluded his chains -and conveniently, it's also the same time when you fell head over heels for the stranger. 

It was ridiculous because you never talked to the guy. But two years later, just his silhouette and the bouncing of his heavy head of curls you have to come to the shameful acknowledgement that your heart hasn’t gotten over the crush. 

It’s ridiculous. 

It precisely why you shouldn’t have talked about it to anyone. It’s just too hard to keep anything from Kim Taehyung though. Even if your life would have been so much easier if you’d only have to listen to your own nagging about this and not his. 

“You’re going to end up as a crazy old spinster if you keep acting like that.”

“And you’re going to be late for your class if you keep on bothering me.”

“I don’t have a class.” Taehyung stares, dubiously. Now that you don’t have to face head-on your shame, attention slightly steered away from your useless self, you can stare back, glare even, as you challenge him with a raised eyebrow. 

“You do.”

You relish in the sickly white suddenly brushing all over his face. He curses under his breath, grabbing his briefcase with one of his gigantic hands, before he’s flying out of your classroom. 

Quite frankly, you’re not sure if he does have a class at the moment. You do know for a fact that he doesn’t know either because strangely enough, for a teacher whose whole subject depends on memory and a good one at that, he’s never been able to memorise his planning. 

An easy escape you’ve come up with. 

Everyone needs those. 

Especially whoever’s having their ears talked off by the crazy old howl, Umbridge, down the corridor. You can hear her from your room, even with the door almost shut close. Her whole monologue is hard to decipher. You do hear that it has something to do with “her disapproval” and someone else's “irresponsibility” and “pure lunacy”.

By curiosity, you lean your head through the thin entrance your door is offering, picking discreetly to see who the victim is. 

It's the guy. Jeon Jungkook. Standing with his feet pointing away from Umbridge, hands tucked deep in the pockets of a thick winter vest, you can’t see half of his face because of his hair, as always sitting low down his forehead, but you can tell from the thin line of his mouth, his tensed shoulders and something else, maybe his aura, so loudly screeching annoyance, that he's not having a good time. 

It’s him. And for some reason, for the first time ever, you recall words Taehyung has said to you, loud and clear and pressing and inspiring. You don’t want to become a “crazy old spinster”. Therefore you decide to become a crazy something else you don’t bother to identify right this second.

“Oh, Mrs Umbridge!”

“Miss ___, as you can see, I am already-“

“Oh!” The loud gasp, hand clasping on your gaping mouth, wide eyes completing the look. You can’t find the courage to turn to him to reinforce -in case it wasn’t clear enough- that you just, now that she mentioned it, realise the man was here.

Mrs Umbridge has this quality to her. You find her so awfully ridiculous that you turn yourself in a clown, subtly mocking her -though you don’t think she fathoms it since you’ve always acted this way around her- each time you share any kind of conversation.

It can work and you can go along with your usual antics only if you forget the obnoxiously troubling presence of the dragon master.

“I am so deeply embarrassed, I didn’t realise. I’m not wearing my glasses, I’m an incorrigible mole without them.”

“Is that so?” From above the frame of her pink glasses, her beady eyes scrutinize. “You should wear them on your nose then, Miss ___. Now, if you will-“

“I’m sorry, I needed- It’s very important.” You cut her off with such speed and enthusiasm, you know she can't shut you off. “After discussing with my students about the program, I thought about something. Maybe I could introduce a new-“ “Miss ___!” She screeches, the triggering words -”introduce” and “new”- having hit perfectly right. “The program, as you owe to know, has been carefully crafted by the great Minister for Magic and doesn’t need for an airheaded little teacher like you to add any changes to it.”

“Oh yes, of course, how could I forget?”

“It is bad enough as it is that this foolish Hagrid has been able to convince my confreres of bringing a useless study on the most dangerous creatures there is-“ She pointedly glare from the corner of her eyes to the man who remains silent and immobile. His hands haven’t moved from the depth of his pockets, you can’t see his eyes even up close, because the curtain of dark curls hiding them is even thicker than it looked like from the other end of the hallway. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered. You wonder if he’s even listening. Barely swinging on his long legs, waiting for his presence to be dismissed it seems.

“Dragons are quite interesting creatures. I suppose that’s why they were added to the program. The Ministry for Magic must have thought so too since they voted...”

She gnarls at that. She tries to be discreet, conceals a bit of her spite but there’s no doubt in your mind that her mouth's just filled up with a distasteful repellent aftertaste.

Since the main goal was to distract her from him and free him from her claws, you start again with the suggestions for a revised scholar program. Her cheeks grow pinker than her jacket, her eyes start reflecting a fire alike the ones from Hell, her usually perfectly well-combed hair releases a few angry frizzes. She’s beyond herself and without letting you finish your little act, she’s going over all the things that are so wrong about you, about Hogwarts teachers in general, about young people and their disrespectful tendency to want to add their little spice to every tea.

You take the nagging like a champ. Because you’re used to it and to be perfectly fair, you’ve mastered a certain state of meditation whenever she’s coming your way with some complaining.

None of her words successfully reach you to stick around.

She holds strong for a good, fat fifteen minutes. At some point, you even worry that this time, her pit of nonsensical arguments won’t ever show a bottom. Until it does.

She looks all dishevelled from her heated argument. The hair worsened, with now drops of perspiration shining on her forehead. The mean beady eyes are dull, exhausted from the fight as she contemplates the void between you and the man. With a last dismissive wave of her hand, she leaves, stumbling on top of her lacquered Fuschia heels.

How can someone work themselves up so badly with so little provocation -and no further response too?

It leaves you alone with the dragon master and only now, even though you had plenty of time to take in this present, you realise how inconvenient for your coward self the predicament is. You are meant to talk to him now, aren’t you? Maybe the same question raises in his mind however he certainly doesn’t reach the same conclusion. Deeming it unnecessary, he turns his back to you and heads down the hall without much of a look spared to you. Maybe he did check, through or maybe under the impenetrable curtain of hair, for the identity of the idiot that thought he needed help to escape the annoying old owl but you wouldn’t know.

Watching in pure despair, your heart prickling uncomfortably in your bosom, you wonder if you somehow upset him. He did look irked from what you could tell. Anyone else, anyone less grumpy, anyone feeling anything but discomfort or discontent would have said something, wouldn’t they?

That’s what you explain to Kim Taehyung. Emphasising on the fact that you did try to approach the guy. You did. You created the situation, you faced him fully, you did miss the moment when you were probably supposed to say something to him but he left, too soon, and clearly is not interested in getting to know you, and whatever, you’re fine with that you just want your friend to note and remember for later reference that you did try this time.

Taehyung who’s never keen on trusting your words, no matter the fact that you’ve never lied to him -or maybe just a few times so he would leave you alone, but nothing major really- decides that you are wrong. That somehow you misinterpreted the whole thing and surely you need to hop back on the horse and try, again, maybe this time more vindictively.

It takes quite a couple of days for him to convince you. You’re not sure how. It might be from exhaustion, it might come from those three too many butterbeers you drank even though you didn’t remember ordering, back when you were gloomily celebrating your never-ending celibacy in Jjang Jjang -the magical bar held by your friend, Min Yoongi, in the far end of Hogsmead.

You promise that if an opportunity appears to be showing the very tip of its nose, if the universe is kind -and delusional- enough to gift you another chance, then you would try.

It’s funny how the laws of attraction work. Or rather, probably more accurately, it’s funny how Taehyung can be so shameless and volunteer when he has his mind set on something. He has no problem manipulating people and situations as if the universe is his and he decides whatever happens to the little pawns inhabiting it.

A week later, when he, the dragon master, is the curious apparition manifesting itself in front of you when you open the door to let your class free, it doesn’t fall into place right away.

It’s a strange coincidence. Maybe he messed up and meant to find another classroom, any other classroom but yours. He doesn’t budge when he sees you, doesn’t seem startled by your presence. He only takes a step to the side once he realises that a wave of hurried teenagers is about to swarm him in their way out.

“Miss, are we still going to study this potion next time or will we move to something more interesting?” It’s that same Gryffindor. The same as usual. She’s just made of attitudes, eye rolls, hand on the hip and all.

“Once you’ll be able to make it without cooking a hole in your cauldron, we’ll be starting with a new one.”

You’re snarkier than usual, there’s no denying that. It’s your fifth class of the day, everyone seems to have signed an agreement on messing with your patience and he’s here, hearing and seeing an umpteenth attempt to humiliate you from this kid and you’re not having it right now, not today. She grows red on the cheeks, eyebrows frowning dangerously low, they might fall from her face when she barks, “I told you the hole was already there!”

“I understand. Next time, I’ll lend you my old cauldron so there won’t be any issue, alright?”

The angry wands she owns for eyes shoot you a good dozen of curses and she departs, with her friends, as angry as ever.

There’s a heavy silence, setting around you both, engulfing you. The wood of the walls, dark and cold, make it old the more uncomfortable until you can not take it anymore. You’re about to mumble something, maybe point out the end of the hall and suggest he tries there, to find whatever or whoever he is looking for. He beats you to it. Having reached the very limit of handling this silence at the same time as you do.

“Good morning.” He starts, clearing his throat. A husky, quiet yet somehow soft voice that he doesn’t seem to have used quite often. “Here’s the stuff for your potions.”

He holds out a strong hand to you, all veiny and sparkled with tiny bruises, a dark bag made of linen held in his fist. If he can see you, he can undoubtedly take in your confusion. You have no idea what “the stuff” is. If it’s a badly expressed thought. If he meant to say, “some stuff” for your potions. Because you’ve never asked for anything from anyone for your potions -even though, the thought crossed your mind that he, with his magical pets, must have some fantastic ingredients for your searches. You don’t know if it just comes from him. If he thought you may need it and generously prepared this for you -you doubt that one highly. The other reason, way more evident, quite obnoxiously obvious actually, that doesn’t reach your brain which is only working at a quarter of its habitual capacity given his standing here, and his smelling like woods and smoky and something subtler, you can’t pinpoint but feel addicted to as soon as it reaches your nostrils, is that someone -Taehyung- must have put him up for it. He must have gone behind your back, mumble some basic potion ingredients knowledge he owns to him and asked him to bring it to you.

“I put my Norvegian Ridgeback's scales in a separate bag because they’re very sharp -and poisonous too- so be careful when you open it.” He’s done talking, he clears his throat again, this time you’re pretty sure it’s out of discomfort as your gaping silently like a dumb fish must not be the easiest response to receive. A little inviting shake of his fist brings you to your senses, and you reach forward to grab the present. Your arm drops down from the surprising weight of the thing, fortunately, as if he expected it, he catches you before you topple over, a hand on your shoulder and the other encasing yours holding the bag, squeezing around your own as he lifts some of the weight up.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect it to be this heavy.” because you carried it like it was filled with dragons feathers instead -you mean to add.

“It’s fine.” He simply mumbles. You add your free hand to cup the underside of the thing, pressing the whole to your bosom and he lets go there, letting you step inside your room to find a place on a shelf to put it away. You probably take a second to long, your back facing him, as you stand staring at your new possession. It’s the heat remaining on the back of your hand that troubles you. As if not only have his pets decorated the top of his skin with scratches and bruises, they’ve sighed enough fire in his palms for them to forever feel this warm. And he touched you so naturally so. Pressing his large hand around yours that seemed so tiny in comparison. Probably without even acknowledging it while you are shook to your core.

This added to your confusion born from his surprise apparition, are the reasons why, as I said, your brain doesn’t reach its full capacity. Still, the idea that Taehyung is behind it all, that it can’t solely come from this man here, just won’t do in your idiotic head.

You’re enamoured, even more than before, just by a touch and by the gentleness his words hold under the tougher surface. And you decide, that if you turn around and he’s still standing there you’ll ask him out.

You do so, spiralling in slow motion, filled with apprehension. He’s here. His hands back inside the pockets of his jacket, the shadow of a sparkle coming from his eyes, under the heavy protection he’s wearing in front of them.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He’s startled at the call of his name, the top of his mop of hair bouncing slightly and you just find it adorable. Maybe he didn’t expect you to know his name, he must not even know yours. Of course, he could not have expected that you had spent way too long, two years ago, back when he came to Hogwarts for the first time and you had heard his name amid a conversation, trying it out for yourself. Not to wear it out but repeating his name to yourself, appreciating the way the syllabus formed, how they felt so well chosen for each other’s, for him, and the feeling, light heading, that it gave you to pronounce it.

“Would you like to have a drink with me? On Fridays, I like to go to my friend's bar in Hogsmead and I was wondering, maybe you’d like to come?”

More clearing of the throat. It’s stalling the delivery of his answer, you hate it and almost jump to your cooking station to sort out a quick remedy for it. Your heart is beating so furiously, you might pass out and he’s just taking his sweet time to answer. You feel the awkwardness. You don’t see it. You can’t see anything, the bottom of his face not telling any secrets on his feelings. You must look terrifying, red anywhere it’s possible for you to blush, sweating and fidgety like you’re on a Girding Potion bad trip. And he doesn’t show anything. You’d rip the hair out of his eyes if only you could. 

There’s only one telling sign that manifests in the form of his hand, slipping out of his pocket to reach for the back of his neck where it scratches for a bit. 

It’s no. It must be a “no, I’m absolutely not interested and this moment is very awkward”. 

“I have my dragons to exercise. Sorry.” 

“Oh. It’s ok.” It is not. 

You hope, with all your might, that he doesn’t notice how upset you are. Through your prickling eyes, through the trembling pout you try to hide behind a casual smile.

It is terribly not ok but fortunately, he doesn’t stick around. That’s probably the thing you’re the most thankful for at this moment, his laconic tendencies. Anyone else may have tried to say something else to make you feel better, to make you feel like the rejection isn't worth throwing you off one of Hogwarts high tour. Instead, he just quits, swiftly. Leaving you alone to compose yourself back enough to handle your very last class of the day. You manage to feel fine, sort of numbed out for long enough until you don’t have to pretend anymore and you can let all the emotions out. 

Bent over on the wooden tabletop of Yoongi’s bar, you’re crying out your whole soul, face laid in a pool of your own tears, a gentle hand petting awkwardly the top of your head. 

“I hate you Taehyung!” It hardly comes out, half mumbled, half coughed out. The hand on your hair still in the air for a second so he must have got the jest of it until it resumes to its previous activity. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d reject you.” He sighs deeply. “I didn’t even think you’d ask him out!” 

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” You rise from the depth of your despair, hidden in the centre of your crossed arms. Yoongi looks extremely distraught. Your face looks awful, you know. But seeing him this shaken upsets you even more. You feel mad and vengeful and you’d like to flood his shitty bar with your tears to teach him a lesson -you’re not sure which, maybe: don’t look so disgusted when your friends look indeed disgusting, that’s mean- but the realisation downs on you that you cried so much you don’t have any tears left. Just the rashness around your eyes and nose, no snot left because Yoongi had maternally cleaned it for you, tiny pathetic sniffling around nothing but heartbreak now. 

“He sent him to me!” You bark, punching Taehyung in the shoulder, not caring the least that half of his drink gets spilt everywhere. 

“You didn’t have to just ask him out! You could have just, I don’t know (he pretends to think deeply, the tip of his fingers tapping lightly his chin), talk to him! Like a normal person that’s never spoken to him would have done.”

You gasp, eyes burning with fire. “Yoongi, he called me a freak!”

“When have I ever-“

“Normal people, my ass!” You continue, sort of having a lone conversation parallel to theirs. “What do you know about normal people, you fucking Grindylow.” You swallow down your fourth butterbeer, one furious finger indicating Yoongi that you need another one. Taehyung is just rolling his eyes, not taking offence of the nonsensical insult. “I hate you so much, Merlin, how am I supposed to face him again?”

“You do like everyone else’s does. Just start hating him until you don’t care anymore.”

“People do that?” Yoongi asks curiously. He’s slid you a new pint, filled to the brim. 

“I know I do.” You slap the back of his arm there, without giving him any explanation, just because you’re sure he’s bullshitting you -the guy surely never has been rejected. 

“Doesn’t matter. How could I ever hate him anyway?” A lone survivor tear falls from your lashes into the calm, quiet amber lake topping your glass. It doesn’t hit you there that there’s no foam. Yoongi watches you carefully, one of his hand is patting your forearm. 

“Is he really that great?” Taehyung just shrugs. He’s such a dimwit. You nod, heart growing big with sadness before it breathes it out, turning into a tiny, squeezed on itself pained creature. You leave the conversation then. Simply trying to rest with your hurting bosom. It needs nurturing and a benevolent yet firm healing hand to tell it to rest for a bit, and stop overreacting. 

[“What's he like?” Yoongi asks directly to Taehyung as he can see, clearly, that you’re not here anymore, for now.

“He’s... uh...” Taehyung starts with very flimsy conviction. “He’s into dragons.” More shrugging.]

Honestly, you might be exaggerating. You do not know much about him. Most of what you believe to know, assumed by what little you do know about him. You believe he is nice and sensible, from the way he treats his animals and the way they treat him. 

[“Oh. Holy Dumbledore!”

“Stop saying that! I told you it’s fucking disrespectful.”]

You’ve seen how much respect and trust lay between them. It’s blatant. And to create this kind of relationship with some of the fiercest creatures in the magical world, he must be something else, something exceptional. 

[“It’s him. It’s fucking him!”]

And you read about him, a lot, the two books he wrote solely about his creatures. They don’t directly tell much about him but indirectly, they hint his humility and humbleness. It’s not like that stupid Gilderoy Lockhart and his autobiographies on magical creatures. And there are the numerous articles that were written about him and his exploits and alleged character.

[“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

Sharp short nails are jabbing annoyingly in the skin of your forearm. It’s Taehyung, of course, he never stops bugging you. It’s his second passion after the soporific subject he’s decided to teach. You close your eyes, frowning a bit because he won’t stop, trying to annihilate him from your existence, to annihilate yourself from it too.]

Simple, humble, smart and strong. Passionate, sensible and a beautiful set of thick dark locks you want to slip your fingers through as the cherry on top. 

“It’s apple juice!” You screech in disgust, pushing your fake butterbeer far away from you. The hocus-pocus, if it irritates you, at least brings you back to earth, and back to the noisy bar. Min Yoongi mouths something about you having drunk enough but his attention is elsewhere, along with Taehyung's. 

“Oh, Merlin's beard.”

Of course, he would be there. He’s been back to Hogwarts for over a month now, you’ve never seen him around here, but of course, the day he rejects you, he has to come to your retreat, and witness the mess he's made of you. What kind of sick joke from the stars is that?

“Holy shit. Isn’t he a bit much for you?”

You know exactly what the barman means. It makes you blush slightly under the tipsy flushing already adorning your cheeks. 

If Jeon Jungkook may or may not be made of all the qualities you’ve named for him -with or without reasons-, he has some very visible, very obnoxious other qualities to him. Qualities that you’re not proud of pining over because it makes you feel shallow and superficial. The expression on Yoongi's face makes it feel better though. Justified. As if, well, here they are, you can’t deny it. And since you like his imaginary personality, you might as well like the body imaginarily hosting it. 

Jeon Jungkook is tall as a tree and as strong as one. It’s hard to tell, from here, with the layers of clothes he’s wearing on his back to protect himself from the cold, to what extent he fills them but it’s obvious he’s broad, wide. He walks with strong determined steps, with his fists tight to his sides, as tight as his jaw, square, sharp. 

He’s big. Both in appearance and aura and you can understand how Yoongi wonders if he’s not “a bit much” for you. 

“Don’t call him over!” You whisper-yell, digging your nails in the tender skin of Taehyung’s forearm. He whines, curses and tries to let himself free while telling you that of course, he’s not that dumb, he won’t. He doesn’t need to, anyway, because the guy, after seemingly exploring with his gaze the bar, sets his aim on your table, slowly starting to make his way towards you. 

“He’s coming.” Taehyung mumbles, bewildered. 

You are too. Could it be you misunderstood earlier when he said he couldn’t come because he’d be “exercising his dragons”? It can’t possibly be true. You don’t even know what the heck is up with this excuse. Because it can’t have been anything more than an excuse. Since when do dragons need to be exercised and by a wizard at that?

And now he is here. 

Literally, he’s standing right in front of your table, a hand reaching for the back of the empty chair, next to yours, but stops mid-track and backs away to his side. 

“Hi. Do you mind if I sit here ?”

You can feel, physically, the two heavy heads of your friends, turning slowly on their necks towards you, like an idiotic audience, not wanting to miss one beat of the drama playing for them. 

There’s a little snappy answer that rises to the back of your throat. Something inspired by what Taehyung said earlier, about hating him. You almost tell him aloud that he can do whatever he wants, that you don’t own this fucking chair.

Jeon Jungkook is still raspy but soft voice. With his bruised hand with the fingers red from the cold, not assertive and confident enough to dare grab the chair yet and you can’t do much but nod your head, swiftly sliding your own chair to the side to draw a little distance between you. 

It takes forever for the initial tension to drop a little bit. You can’t say anything, Taehyung the chatterbox can’t either, Jungkook probably feels too awkward by your behaviours to find a casual way to start the conversation. It’s Yoongi who realises the successful start. By doing what he does best, serving your new guest the best butterbeer there is in Hogsmead (Yoongi would say that it’s the best in the world, both magical and muggle, but given he hasn’t stepped two feet outside of this village for the past two decades, you wouldn’t give him that).

“My name’s Jungkook, by the way.” He starts quietly, in the direction of Yoongi. The latter nods and smiles a bit too eagerly. He tries to be natural, you can tell. And fail miserably, you must add. 

“I’m Min Yoongi. Welcome to Jjang Jjang!” Taehyung cringes visibly. Yoongi leans further, towards yours and Jungkooks side of the table, wanting to ignore at best the unhelpful clown beside him. “You must already know...” With a vague hand gesture, he points Taehyung and you. It makes you want to die, the idea that he knows your name, he knows you. You’re unsure what’s going on. Why he’s here, where this will lead. But it would all feel infinitely better if you knew that somehow, he didn’t know anything about you. It’s hard to remember people without their name. It’s the first thing you learn about someone, really, like a tag they’re wearing on their foreheads and when recalling about them, ever, consciously or not, the name comes always. He knows yours so he won't forget you.

It takes all of you a short eternity to warm up to each other. The bar is still noisy, with its occasional rough burst of laughter from the tough-looking wizards, maybe missionaries, the high giggles of a group of Hogwarts 7th year students hidden in a corner. You’re all nurturing your drinks, even you with your stupid apple juice and the unease is even louder, the silence deafening in the middle of the concert of voices and shatters of glasses. 

Until Taehyung says something weird, “So you like dragons, uh?” You don't understand why he persists on making it sound weird, like he's romantically interested in them. 

You hit him under the table, a good kick to the kneecap but it’s clear to everyone that his yelp comes from you. That makes Jungkook laughs. 

He pretty much giggles, sounding like a boy, head tilted down forward with his locks sadly hiding his smile. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” He finally answers, clearing his throat, words coming out sweet and sheepish-like, as if he’s embarrassed from having been caught laughing.

“Oh, that explains this.” Yoongi says, pointing at his skin and the numerous bruises orning it. You’ve never hit Min Yoongi because 1) he’s older than you, 2) he’s a tiny little thing that you’re scared to hurt but you are this close, the width of a hair away, from throwing your foot up again and hit him in the junk. For a second, Jungkook seems awkward. Staring himself at his hands, one sliding over the other, the tip of his thumb grazing with insistence on a deep scar. Until he raises his head again, you assume to let his eyes go over your faces, studying them silently and something he sees there, maybe innocent benevolence -even if Yoongi's comment was lowkey inappropriate, he didn’t mean any ill- and something else, childish excitement probably suffice to relax him. Letting his hands be, one wrap around his pint, the other flat on the tabletop, tip of his fingers drumming quietly every now and then, out in the open for anyone who'd like to to see. 

“They tend to be a bit playful.” He says this with a sly smile raising the corner of his mouth. Something ridiculously sexy that makes you choke on your fake beer and back away from him even more. You shouldn’t raise an arm to plant your elbow into the table, as a sort of shield between you two, because it’s rude and lame, but you do it anyway. Because it’s all a lot. 

He's a lot.

Yoongi, probably, knows you better than you could ever imagine. Seeing right through you, added to the statement he raised earlier -and maybe he was right, maybe he's a whole lot, and a whole lot too much for you-, he reconsiders forbidding you from consuming any more alcohol. Kindly, he manifests a glass of sparkling juice, right in front of you. It's a light peach colour, from the first sniff of the aroma, you can tell it won't knock you unconscious any time soon. It's more sugar than alcohol but at least, it succeeds to soothe the harsh edges of your nerves. Because your nerves are on the verge of a fucking spontaneous combustion.

"Hey! Why does she get another one?" Since earlier, Taehyung, too, has been switched to a strictly non-alcoholic beverages diet. He's not happy about it but you understand easily Yoongi's train of thought. You need to relax so you deserve a little something -especially given the fact that Jeon Jungkook's appearance had you almost entirely sobered up-, while Taehyung's stupid mouth is way too loose and needs to be fed something soft and safe.

"Because he likes me and he hates you." You mutter, not daring to look up from your glass by fear of coming across your neighbour's attention. Your comment is well received though. You allow yourself to joke like that because everyone, Taehyung included, knows that Kim Taehyung is everyone's favourite. No matter the competition. No one can hate him, even when he's boring as hell, even when he's too loud, too nosy, dumb or annoying. He knows it as well as you do and each time you throw one of these snarky taunts, a glint of amusement sparkles his almond eyes and he loves to act all hurt and offended. 

He turns all gasps and bombastic hand movements, claiming unfairness, misery. You start nagging back at him, adding more about how dumb he sounds and stupid he looks, while he counteracts with more dramatic appalled cries, as Yoongi just shrinks onto himself, shaking his head in disconcertment -even though, he's too used to your antics to be any surprised nor confused. 

You're so caught up in your childish bickerings that slowly, only you two, and the amusement you're trying to contain in your stomach, matter and exist. Jeon Jungkook disappearing entirely. It has your voice turn louder, mimicking Taehyung's, your insults getting bolder, your face raises as you squint your eyes menacingly at your friend.

It's once Taehyung grabs the wand from his pocket and aims it at you, threatening to turn you into a pile of ghoul's shit if you won't shut up, that he's reminded to you.

The giggles, like earlier. Boyish and rusty, uncommon, that can only be his, ring and bless your right ear. It has you shut up instantly. Startled, you stare at him, only for a soft smile to grow on your lips, fond as you are to see him laugh like that, because of you. 

You must look stupid as your eyes jump to Taehyung, silently begging him to acknowledge the wonder taking place just next to you, too giddy, too excited, too blushy to be part of it. He just grins back at you, nods his head even though you're not exactly sure at what, one of his elbows poking Yoongi's side.

"How long have you two been friends ?" He asks once he's managed to calm down his fit with a bite on his lower lip. Your heart is running a marathon and you're not sure for how long it'll keep holding up, you might need to focus all of your energy on the course, on not breaking a leg or pass out in the middle of the run, but you refuse, because he's talked to you again, because your best friends are accessorily here to help out, ease a bit of the burden of having to face the terrifying idea of being rejected (again), of failing at being good enough, somehow, to a guy you don't know much but like a lot.

Therefore you answer, aiming a joking dark glare at Taehyung because it helps to look at him, "Too long." Jungkook sniggers at the answer as Taehyung slips his ugly tongue out to you.

Somehow the tension diffuses itself. As if now that all of you had placed a word in the conversation, played somehow a role in it, it feels better, the ice has been melted and you can all, finally, relax.

Without even realising, your elbow slips from the tabletop, you're still wary, still very much aware of him sitting so close to you but you're fine with it.

As the drinks, more or less loaded, flow, Jungkook's cheeks fill up with mountains upon mountains of the fried wonders Jjang Jjang's beloved house-elf, Seokjin, has to offer, the discussion runs smoothly, tongues untied and excited.

It starts with Taehyung telling a very inaccurate version of your first meeting and blooming of this decades-old friendship (you add now and then, when the exaggerations and blatant lies get too much, little modifications to the tale that have Jungkook snigger and nod his head discreetly to you in secret confidence). It continues with Jungkook, pressured by a very adamant audience (which you are not part of, even if you are probably the most interested in the topic, in any topic that would have him speak a bit more, you don't want to bother him with your curiosity which Taehyung and Yoongi do not seem the least disturbed about) telling about the couple of last years he'd spent all around the world, in the most secluded corners of Earth, where only dangerous creatures like his beloved pets live and where only the foolhardiest or most suicidal wizards dare to adventure. As you expected, he's quite humble about it. He doesn't insist on details that make your heads spin in bewilderment, shrugging his shoulders lightly when you're the one whisper-yelling that "but you could've died?!". After a lot of cooing, from all angles of the table, tiny whispers repeating some of his words like a strange echo as you all try to handle the admiration -and intoxication-, he starts feeling himself, a tiny, discreet but visible smile, slyly redrawing the corner of his mouth. He shrugs a little less, nods his head firmly a little more, voice louder and more confident, shaping in the full form it's able to take.

He sounds lovely when he doesn't care anymore. When he feels unrestrained, comfortable and easy-going. He laughs a lot, you notice. It colours almost every single one of yours and your friends' comments, and maybe the fact that you're all a bit dumbed by shock and interest and starstruck and tipsiness makes it so that they're pretty ridiculous, hence him laughing so much. It's not so much that you're all hilarious, rather than you all being pretty stupid but it doesn't matter. You note how easy his laughter, that you couldn't even picture before hearing it for yourself, can come out. How open he is to meddle with you.

He fits so well in your bubble. This personal place only Taehyung and Yoongi have ever been authorized to inhabit. He matches perfectly. It fills your heart and mind with so much content, you feel your cheeks hurt from smiling constantly without meaning too. It's what he does, you suppose, making you smile. And when you notice the pink tint colouring his cheeks, rounded out lovingly so by a grin, you assume he's feeling the same, enjoying his time with all of you, your heart dips in the warmest bath. 

"Dude!" For the umpteenth time, he's trying to wave himself some air with a hand. Taehyung has had enough and just slammed his fist to the table, making everything on it knock against each other, Yoongi's eyes this close to falling out of their sockets. Jungkook just giggles some more, he might be a bit tipsy. "Just tie your hair up, you're making me sweat just looking at your mop!"

"I don't even have-" Taehyung's already up from his chair, he bumps his leg in the process but pay it no attention, marching over his future victim with a little hair-tie that seemed to appear from thin air -probably did too. Jungkook is so lenient with your best friend, too lenient you'd say, you wouldn't even have it in you. When he excitedly reaches forward, his long fingers parting the dark locks in two, he's trying to tie one end into a little side ponytail. Before he's even done with the first one, you roll your eyes, knowing what he's aiming for. Of course, he wouldn't just give him a regular manbun or something.

For the first time, you meet one of Jungkook's eyes, the one uncovered thanks to Taehyung's shenanigan. It's round, dark but warm like rich chocolate, sparkling with exhilaration but concerned.

"What's he doing?" He asks you, unbeknownst to the fact that meeting half of his face for the first time, the endearing pretty thing, stole every single little last word from you. With two fists hold to the side of your head, you attempt to show him the cute girly hairstyle Taehyung has in mind. He winces at that, nose scrunching into itself so high, the round thing turns into something adorable, shaking his head to try to free himself from your friend's prying hands, a grin still on his lips.

"Stop being such a baby!" Taehyung growls, trying for a little while to keep ongoing, his hand desperately holding onto the second bunch of hair. He's soon forced to stop as the victim turns to be too unwilling. "Ok fine! You do it then!" 

It's you he is barking to. If the hair tie thrown straight in your eye is any teller. It renders you blind for a second. Until you can blink the stingy discomfort away and you’re greeted by Jungkook and his endearing face with the oh so adorable tiny tail hanging from the side of his head, observing you with great attention, single eye blinking worrisome. He looks cute, half dolled up like a girl, fearful and curious to discover how you’ll treat him. For a second, you are tempted to follow your friend's design. Because how cute would this man look with two ponytails hanging on top of his head, with maybe even tiny hair clips to perfect it all.

He’d be pissed though and wouldn’t keep it probably so what’s the point.

The real point is that you have a hair tie in your hand, fingers itching on instinct to play with the shiny raven locks and the owner of said pretty locks, silently permitting you to do just that.

Maybe Taehyung is not as dumb and as useless as you thought him to be. Your prior reflex would be to assume he didn’t even mean to create this opportunity for you. He’s just invading as a person, touchy-feely and very comfortable with anyone entering his vicinity. You do owe him more credits and you willingly give them to him for this time. Because if he didn’t intend to put your foot on the stirrup, he surely did anyway, with a natural and a smoothness you couldn’t imagine coming from him. 

Standing behind Jungkook's chair, hands hovering centimetres away, you feel so blessed, you’d jump over to Taehyung's side to snug him to your fervent heart if you didn’t have better at hand -and if the idea of actually having him this close to you did not fill you with an immense cringe.

Taehyung is watching, over the rim of his glass, with an obnoxious, kid like excited sparks burning you uncomfortably. You curse him out, soundlessly but with such great articulation, he can’t possibly miss the words.

Yoongi who watches all of it notices and understands it all as he always does even when he pretends he doesn’t, starts talking then. Something about Brazil where Jungkook had spent nine months, living alone in the wild forest of Amazonia, and about the curious plants and fruits he heard that could be found there. It’s a nice distraction. Soon Jungkook is on it again, Taehyung partakes a role in it too, leaving you alone to handle the grandiose yet terrifying fantasy that is touching and messing with Jungkook's hair.

The first ponytail comes undone easily, the hair tie simply slipping off with just the tip of your fingers to guide it.

When you timidly start, reaching with two hands to grab all of the hair from him, you feel a rush of blood to your cheeks, heart skipping beats and perspiration bubbling at your temple. Your fingers just have to graze slightly the skin of his neck, all warm and soft, you have to do it a few times even because his pretty locks are rebellious and your fingers too willing to let them run in between them, silky as they are. 

There’s a strand refusing your gentle taming, slipping from your grasp and falling in front of his eye. You go to catch it back, meeting hot fingers on his temples. Yours surrender immediately. Jungkook from the corner of his eye, over his shoulder, throw you a glance and a smile. A small one, small but fond. 

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Yoongi asks as Jungkook tucks the strand behind his ear.

"Not really. I'm used to it." He shrugs. You take your sweet, sweet time to finish the half-bun, half-tail hairdo you're working on. Somehow something lovely has settled. Something comfortable, domestic. He's not wary of your touch, letting you mess with his hair, not even flinching when, tentatively, just taking a chance, just once, the pad of your thumb stroke the hot skin of his neck. "Dragons can be very affectionate-" That makes Taehyung cackles as Yoongi gasps in disbelief. You have a hard time picturing those creatures as affectionate. Jungkook is different anyway. You need to be different to go after the path he's chosen for himself. "I swear!" Taehyung rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"Have you considered all this time spent away from civilization turned you mad?"

The bun is done, sadly. You made it last for as long as you could but eventually, as every perfect moment, it has to come to an end. You don't even bother to hide your dread as you let your ass drop to your chair, puffing.

"Leave him alone, moron." A few peanuts to his stupid head and Taehyung stops messing with Jungkook, stops acting like he's insane and starts telling about something no one cares about -so much so, Yoongi leaves to go chat up an old goblin who's just entered the bar.

Jungkook turns to you, leaning a bit. Smiling quietly, gently. As if he doesn't realise the face he owns once his hair isn't hiding the majority of it anymore. 

It must be a joke. He must know. He must have noticed how his straight, dark eyebrows, with the cut splitting the right one in half, gives an irresistible, dark, mature shape to the roundest, sparkliest set of eyes the world has ever seen. He must know his face is a wonderful work of art, with the tiny little details, here and there, adding charms and depth and uniqueness, that only the greatest, only a special artist would know to use -like this faint scar linking a mole under his lip to the corner of his mouth, or the one craving in the top of his cheek. His colours are splendid too. While you'd always seen him with black everything, black hair, black clothes, quiet sombre aura and a tiny bit of red, you'd catch sometimes, where he'd hurt his hands. Never would have you thought, he's more harlequin than monochromatic. Golden scopes, tipsy patches of red matching the tiny pout he owns for a mouth, eyes not dark but the richest shade of chocolate.

"You," Jungkook starts in a whisper, now so close you have a whiff of his smell, torturous scent of pinewood, of soot, and something else, more natural, sweat most definitely but turns out to be the better element of the mixture, suave, awfully addictive. "you believe me, don't you?" You need a full minute to get your brain's vessels to connect. A full minute during which you have no idea what the hell he's talking about, what words are and how to use them, and all you can focus on is not dying from a heart attack -and also, not show that you are having one.

You shake your head up and down, still unsure to what you're agreeing to. It does not matter that much because he's smiling the way he does. The adorable smile another wonderful novelty, shaped like a bunny one, eating up his upper lip into the thinnest cupid bow. The sparks in his eyes, on his cheeks, from excitement, mirth. He's really here with you, warmer than you've ever thought him able to be, and somehow, different than what you had expected, but thousand times more endearing. Having developed a crush on him previously makes more and more sense by the second.

"Thank you for the invitation." He says quietly. You don't miss a single word, nor the least flinch in his intonation (soothing, genuine), even in the loudness of the bar, because, for some reason, he's never leaned back. He remains there, hardly a dozen of centimetres away from you.

"No problem." You lie, effortlessly after a few gulps of liquid courage. If you're enchanted by the evening, the unexpected turns of events, he still made you go through a short misery for this. He must see your awkwardness, he must notice how you're sweating bullets and swallowing with difficulty. How your eyes keep battling between wanting to bath in his and avoid them at all cost. Jungkook doesn't budge though and it almost gets annoying, almost upset you how he doesn't care -or maybe simply doesn't realise- the effect he's having on you. "I thought you couldn't-" You start, meaning to sting him a bit because he deserves it.

"I finished early, and um-"

"Was it even real?" You ask, genuinely curious to have him clear this out for you. It's not like you're mad anymore. On your face, you only feel a tingle at the apple of your cheeks from how many smiles and waves of laughter you've shared, the desperate tears from earlier long dried and gone. "The excuse, I mean."

"It wasn't an excuse..." Jungkook turns his face away from you then. Biting hard on his bottom lip, a traitorous grin hardly contained. The tip of his ears are flushed, you wonder from what, until you see his hand raising to the top of his head where it flats down hair that doesn't need it. "I- I just-" Maybe it's seeing him this abashed that pushes you forward, literally, scraping your chair to the wooden floor, thigh meeting his in the process. "I was startled when you- asked. When you said my name even, I wasn't- like- expecting it and I'm not used to-" He cuts himself off, a hand vaguely motioning the room.

"To what?" You insist, mimicking his murmuring tone, terrified as you are to pop out the little bubble now only he and you dwell. 

"Going out with people or just- hang out, I don't know." He looks inherently embarrassed now. Possibly even a bit saddened, you note. Still, his face remains open, kind, the ever-boyish smile teasing at least the corner of his lips. You don't mean to be so sappy but you wish, consciously, right this second, for this very moment to last an eternity or at least, for your memory to take a picture realistic enough, as in-depth and detailed as possible so that you'll be able to recall and relive it for years to come. 

"Oh. Dragons don't like to go clubbing?" He bumps your thigh with his knee, chortling at your words but shaking his head nonetheless. As you stare at his thigh, covered by a cheap black cloth stretched to the very limit, stuck to yours, almost supported by yours, sending a continuous channel of heat from there to the pit of your stomach, it seems like you've reached a determining point. A definite phase where you can handle him (more or less). Enough not to liquefy on the spot at his every glance, while remaining way too aware of him, his smell, his warmth, every sound coming out of his mouth, his lovely, lovely charms. 

You really like him.

"My head hurts." Taehyung's half-dead on the table. You're not too worried because as his head lies flat, his hair marinating in a pool of spilt beer, he can mumble with a lot of coherence about how heavy his head feels, and how it will probably weigh this much until Monday. Jungkook grabs a bunch of tissues to try to slip under Taehyung's head as an absorbing pillow, it's no use though, because Taehyung, strangely enough, feels too comfortable in this position to let himself be disturbed. Jungkook seems concerned, a bit bothered even -way more than you are because you are very much used to this depiction of lame- until Yoongi passes by, observing with deep disapproval written all over his face. He kicks on purpose one of Taehyung's chair legs, making him groan, and leaves.

Greediness turns you bold. Knocking Jungkook's leg the same way he did earlier, you call back his attention on you. For some reason, he stares at your legs, touching. You wonder for a second if you shouldn't have. It's not that much, he did it earlier, but maybe you shouldn't have. He's too pensive. Doesn't budge a muscle. In deep reflection. You hit him again, a tiny little push, and a few others to follow, like an annoying bratty kid trying to steal someone's attention. His hand finds its way to your knee then, enclasps it entirely, thumb pressing and you have no idea if any of this means anything, but it does send a rush of jolt straight between your legs. Surely he doesn't mean this use of firmness to turn you on, does he? How could he even guess it having this effect? You didn't even know it yourself.

It does work though. You stop acting like a feisty little brat, patiently waiting for him to be ready to listen to you. He pretends, mean as he is, that the hand won't stay, letting it slide slightly away from your knee. It doesn't go far though. Somehow it's comfortable a bit higher on your thigh. Not very high. It's awfully PG, awfully casual and platonic, but it serves to drive you a little breathless.

With the wide glassy eyes, the small smile that keeps finding its seat on his lips each time he turns to face you, he's all ears, all eyes, just for you. It's infuriating. Galvanizing. You lavish in it.

"You said it doesn't get lonely?" You blurp out, putting all efforts on focusing on the question you are sincerely curious about. If you didn't have it blinking loud and bright in your brain for the past ten minutes, you would have had it long lost and forgotten. He's messing with your head. But you owe to ask. The curious sadness, that you may have imagined for all you know, you saw briefly earlier needs to be addressed.

If it ever were there, it's gone anyway. As he stares into your eyes, seemingly pondering his next words around in his head, there's a gleam shining to you personally there.

"It doesn't when you don't know what you're missing."

"I don't feel too good, puffskein." Taehyung burps out. Thanks to some miracle, he doesn't end up vomiting all over the table but it's obvious he's this close to it and needs to be taken home. It takes all the goodness of your soul, all of it, to control your urge to grab your wand and throw a forbidden curse on his stupid ass.

The asshole makes you out to be an ungrateful friend, appreciation long gone, aggravation deeply grounded. It was going so well.

"Sorry about Taehyung." You start, wincing a bit. Your back leaned against the door of your room, it's late, quiet and badly lit up in Hogwarts' hallways. Taehyung is sound asleep in his bed, fully clothed and wrenching of a burp who turned down to be vomit. You've managed to use your wand on him, something to make sure he'll have a long and safe night and a rather gentler awakening tomorrow.

Jungkook pretty much carried him on his back, all the way to his bed, without much of a complaint, only a growl or two when Taehyung showed himself difficult in the capricious stairs hall -because it's the best and safest place to try and stumble, blindly, drunk out of your mind. 

"It's fine. I had a great time."

"Dragging Tae's drunk ass all the way here was fun to you?" You tease, squinting at him. You know what he means. You know that he knows what you mean. You're only trying to earn time. Just a little bit more time. It's late, he's about to leave you for his room, you assume, and you're not just ready for it yet.

"Maybe not this part."

You don't know what to say to make him stay. It's not like you could possibly invite him inside, is it?

Yoongi would say it's way too soon. Another version of you, maybe a twenty-four-hour younger version of you, the one that didn't know him from this close yet, that didn't get to talk and undergo the full experience that is Jeon Jungkook, to feel his hand on your thigh, his pretty eyes -Merlin, there is a time when you didn't even suspect he hid those wonders right here- would agree. It's not your kind, to have hook-ups. You wouldn't even know how to.

That being said, it's not like you often meet Jeon Jungkooks.

You're not that greedy. You're sure of it. When he's leaning himself against the wall, shoulder pressed against it to support himself, head slightly tilted, watching you soundly, the corner of his lips always curled upward. His eyes say it all. Completely black in the shadow, hooded, tempting. Sending heat to your core, shudders along your spine, tingles to the tip of your fingers.

If he says something, if he suggests anything, you'll say yes. He just has to say it. You've been courageous enough already. Asking him out, talking to him, and everything else. You just can't. You can't imagine admitting out loud what you wish to happen now, exposing yourself to him again by asking him if he'd like to stay the night.

And it's too soon, isn't it?

But Hell, you still have the lucid memory of his hair, running in between your fingers and it's become undeniable how bad you'd like to have it again except this time, you could be less delicate.

"I should probably go."

The disappointment is the language you speak because you're too tired to filter the vexation in your voice, "What, your dragons need to be tucked in?"

"Uh?" He chortles. All teeth out, eyes a bit wide, he regards your face, evidently amused. "Is there anything on your mind you'd like to share, maybe?"

"Absolutely not." You're bratty. It's the tiredness and maybe the butterbeer too. Undoubtedly the frustration. Arms crossed, looking away, pouting because somehow you are unable to relax your mouth and need to be so obvious about it all.

"Are you mad at my dragons?" Jungkook asks lightly. If you don't dare look at his face right now, you can guess it. He must have that smirk you've seen a glimpse of a few times tonight. From your peripheral vision, you can tell he's mocking you. Standing away from the wall, a step closer to you, chest puffed out and arms crossed on it.

"Why would I be?" You mumble, ever so vexed. 

"Exactly." He's holding back a laugh, you can hear it louder than if he were to let it out.

Continuing, same tone, same pout, squinting harder at the void that is the end of the hall, "They sound awesome, I have no reason-"

"They are. You should meet them."

Startled, you look up to him, eyes wide with both fear and interest. "Should I?"

"Yeah." His tongue swipes swiftly over his bottom lip before he bites on it for a second, pondering. "Go to bed now so that you're in good shape tomorrow and I'll introduce you then."

Of course, he'd be so casual about it but the idea kind of blows your mind. "Really?" You've seen dragons from afar a very few times, during competitions or this one time, with Taehyung at that circus in Wales. But never have you approached one. Like most wizards, at least all wizards holding the basic amount of worth necessary to their life, it's not something you want to do: approach a dragon. You know that for the Care of Magical Creatures class, Jungkook only brings one dragon at a time. The class with their professor standing on one end of a wasteland, and Jungkook, at least a hundred feet away, presents them the animal. 

"Yeah," Jungkook says again, bobbing his head along. You're dazzled by the light the grin adorning his face brought. He really wants to show you his dragons. "But early. Like super early. They're tired in the morning so they won't be too... agitated."

"Is this supposed to reassure me?" He shrugs with the same cheerful beaming. 

"Did you hurt yourself with Taehyung?" For the third time tonight, you've seen him reach a hand over his shoulder, messily massaging the muscle with a tiny grimace on his face. He hasn't mentioned it so you did not bring it up but the thought that maybe it's your dumbass of a best friend who's responsible awakes your guilt.

"No, it's not Taehyung." He scoffs. Almost offended that you could imply he hurt himself that way. "I had a bad fall."

"On your back? How do you fall on your back?" There are, actually, a lot of ways for someone to fall on their back but somehow, you can only imagine Quidditch players to have the occasion to do so. You haven't fallen to the ground since you were twelve and finally mastered the skill of flying on a cheap broomstick. But Jungkook is different, right?

"Tina. You'll meet her tomorrow."

Tina. One of his dragons. Of course. He sounds so excited to introduce you to a mythical creature who manifestly attacked him, you start to wonder if that's not the thing that is wrong about him. Because everything is too sweet and lovely and perfect about him, something must be wrong -or else, it's not fair. And maybe his thing is that he is batshit crazy.

"Anyway," A clearing of the throat -you almost missed those, "go to bed. Sleep tight. Tomorrow, I want you-" Your heart stops in your bosom. There's the tongue winking at you again, through his pink lips, it's indecent, makes you forget it all about his alleged insanity, "alive and kicking."

You roll your eyes, raising your eyebrows, bewildered by his choice of words. He laughs, again. The boyish one but quieter, as if he's scared to wake the castle or just a grumpy painting possibly hanging somewhere in the dark. It's lovely. "Thanks for walking me to my room. And for Tae." You say, sincerely, turning to your door to open it.

"You're very welcome." Before you disappear in your suite, you glance his way. It's sappy-you again, needing to take a mental picture of his face, with the hair still pushed back, the rebellious strand from earlier curling against his cheek, his handsome everything, his soft expression and charming smile. He doesn't seem to mind. If anything he's doing the same, not hinting to a departure until you take it upon yourself that maybe, it's enough staring at each other wordlessly for tonight and you wave him goodnight, closing the door behind you.

By Merlin's beard, what the hell happened today?

And what the fuck is going on, now?

Your ass down on the hard ground, head dizzy, with a little warm tingling sensation in the crook of your neck. 

Jungkook is standing, looking like he’s a thousand feet tall with his long legs, chest puffed out and leaning upward. He’s facing Tina, the infamous Tina, about his height if you put aside the long tail laying flat to the ground in between her legs. She's a bright degraded of a deep purple and a fire red, covered in scales, sharp and standing upwards every few seconds as if they're breathing along with her lungs.

He has a forearm blocking her jaws open, glaring with the most severe set of eyes you could never have imagined on him boring holes in her flamboyant ones. He’s growling things in a language you think you recognise as Romanian, barking in her face as he forces his arm deeper, gagging her, not caring about the sharp teeth digging in his skin. 

After a while of the strangest and scariest staring contest you’ve ever witnessed, the tail lying between her legs flap once and she whines a heartbreaking mewl.

His face softens at that, slightly, he frees her from his arm, taking a step back while keeping an attentive eye on her. 

Tina snivels more, as soon as her master’s attention hints at leaving her, rubbing the tip of her gigantic snot against his shoulder blade. 

“Not now.” He says, sending her away with a pat to the side of her neck. 

This is the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

You simply remain there, staring, gaping, trying to process it all. 

You’ve been jumped by a dragon and Jeon Jungkook is-

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He still has his hair pushed back in a messier bun than the one you made for him yesterday as if he knows that you like him a lot like that. Therefore nothing is hiding the most pitiful look you've ever seen on anyone's face when he looks down to you. Eyebrows dropping low above shiny wide pearls, his two hands reaching for you, munching nervously on his lip. 

-Terrible. You just had the biggest fright of your entire life -and probably, hopefully, the last one of the kind- and all you can think about, is how wet you got from Jungkook growling like an animal, and somehow intimidating the fiercest animal there is to submission. 

“She doesn’t- I didn’t think she’d be that excited, I’m sorry, ___.” He mumbles, guilt laced in every syllabus he pronounces. You accept one of his hand, sliding yours against his palm, hot and calloused, sending warm all over your body as he squeezes around your fingers. “It’s my fault. She’s used to playing rough with me and she doesn’t control her strength very well yet-“ 

He bends over, catching your second hand in his and lifts you, a bit too strongly given how you are entirely made of mush right now. You hit his chest in the process, he has to steady you once you’re up on your wobbly legs. He holds you with a hand to your upper arm, still hot, still firm, it has the blood to your face boil even more. What kind of experience would it be to bathe entirely in this warmth, to have not the least stupid barrier in between yours and his skin, to feel his firm hold grabbing you, his whole body covering you and pressing you down?

You need to focus on the pets. 

Tina seems upset, a few meters away, her tail slapping the ground impatiently but her head held low. There are three others, different sizes and spices, quietly laying above the trees forming the forest glade. They’re watching inquisitively, quiet, as cats would, you had no idea they could behave like that but then again, they were raised by this fucking guy. 

The guy still holding you close, breathing hard over your forehead, who’s most definitely searching for your eyes you are deliberately not allowing him to meet. You’re not mad. A bit shook still maybe. You’re just soaked, head filled with inappropriate thoughts you're terrified he might hear from how loud they are. And the oblivious idiot keeps apologising and asking if you’re fine because you should not be, you should probably be more traumatised, certainly not aroused as you are, especially when he’s feeling this guilty. You catch a wobble in one of his words and wonder if he could even cry from a guilty conscious. 

Therefore you grant him a glance. 

“I’m fine, Jungkook. Really.”

He must see something there, hear the subtle tilt your voice, too soft, has taken because he nods, visibly relaxing. His hand departs slowly, fingers grazing your skin. 

“Jungkook, I have something for you.” You say it like you know where it’ll lead. Frankly, you have no idea. You can hope, wish very loud and clear in your mind, but you can’t bet on it. “For your back.” You fish out of your shoulder bag a tiny flask. With its shimmery blue content, the tag on it with his name and a short note consisting of wishes of healing you’re somehow embarrassed to show him. “I made it before coming. It should fix your back in no time.”

“That’s very kind of you, ___. Thank you.” He grabs your hand along with the bottle as if he couldn’t take it on its own, and now you’re sure he knows what he’s doing to you. He can’t be innocently stealing all of these touches from you without knowing how intensely pleasing it feels all over.

“Don’t thank me yet, you might not like the... process.” He raises an eyebrow, head slanting to the side. “It’s a bit uncomfortable for like... 30 seconds and then it gets better.” 

“How uncomfortable?” 

“Well... Nothing too bad. I’m sure you handled way worse.” He can see you’re not completely honest with him. For your defence, looking at all the scars scattered on the very few skin your eyes have access too, he must be used to some kind of pain. It’s not painful per se. It is uncomfortable. Like dipping a firstly warmed up skin in a cryogenic liquid for half a minute kind of uncomfortable. He senses it. Watching the strange liquid carefully, suspiciously, he’s not certain he’ll use it. 

“Is it dangerous?”

You scoff, hands raising to your sides, “No, I mean- Not if you apply it correctly, it’s fine.”

“If I-“ He worries at his lip, frowning, mentally debating the subject as if it’s that much of a big deal. Honestly, the risk, is, not that tragic. An over-application can cause a curious discolouration that will, later on, turn into a marble-like blue patch -it might be definite but you’re not sure-, you can potentially burn your skin too but usually, it only happens -and it’s the case with any magical ointment really- if it’s mixed with another ingredient it shouldn’t come in contact with or on a body that’s already under certain charms -which is not his case, you assume-, and of course, an ointment made for local application should in no circumstances be ingested. It’s not that complicated. He doesn’t need to look so scared and suspicious. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Jungkook! Don’t use it if-“ You aim to snap it out of his hand but he’s quicker, holding up where you can’t reach, the corner of his eyes crinkling cutely. 

“No I want to but- can you do it for me? You worried me.”

“You really are a big baby, aren’t you?” He shrugs, doesn’t deny it. He looks cute like that. Dancing on his two feet, munching on his lip, hands deep in the pockets of his pants. “Fine.” You say without meaning it. You wouldn’t say that you’re fine or that you’ll be fine. 

When he walks you to his cabin, twenty meters away from the dragons' playground, your heart starts beating hard and fast, more furiously at every step. It might not mean much more than a nurse job. At the same time, would it make any sense for you to not take the opportunity to take a step and make it more than that? Kim Taehyung would turn you into some kind of pile of whatever gross creature's shit if he were to hear that.

The cabin is super tiny, rustic and barely equipped. Wooden floor, wooden walls, wooden furniture -if you can call them that. Mentally, you curse at Mrs Umbridge. If she didn’t plan this on purpose just because she despises the guy and his pets. You can tell he sleeps in it because of the shitty mattress sitting on a pile of wooden boxes, with the sheets unmade. Discarded used clothes in a corner, a little tower made of books that all seem to be about travelling, magical creatures and travellers’ autobiographies. It’s dark, smells like soot with a tint of something sweet, as if the remnants of a pastry made of cinnamon is hiding somewhere.

Jungkook excuses himself for the mess, even if it’s not much compared to the poor condition he must have received the cabin as, jumping to the only window to tear open the dusty curtain.

It brings a bit of light inside, a subdued but warm yellow-ray coming straight from the barely awakening Sun.

It feels a bit stuffy in here. With him taking over the whole space, and your lungs struggling to pump normally. It feels too intimate, to be standing a few steps away from the place he sleeps in at night. Too intimate because you're not used to it, and two days ago, or even fucking yesterday morning, you would have never thought you'd ever be standing here.

"It's cosy."

You comment, humming to yourself, at the same time as he asks, "Should I take off my shirt?"

You almost choke, tilting your head, watching him with misplaced shock. He's already holding the hem of his black shirt higher on his stomach, exposing smooth golden skin, tight on a thin, sculpted waist, a trail of teasing black hair under his belly button, yet looking at you with his wide round eyes, unsure, quite innocent somehow.

"I don't think you need to- the whole thing." Coward-you hurries to answer, trying to divert your attention to anything but him.

Jungkook turns around, giving you his back and raising his hands to the back neck of his shirt, wincing silently, as he lifts the cloth. The back is almost worst than the front. The thin waist you had a glimpse of, the smooth skin with the golden highlights, the cute dimples at the bottom of his back, the developed, beautifully drawn muscles. A dizzying hot flush takes over your head.

This guy is a mystery. Under his thick, oversized clothes, you knew he was well built, but never would you have expected that. It's not like you care about it usually but with him standing in front of you, smelling so wonderful, with this thing, intense and unique, linking and running in between you two, you can't ignore it all. You can't ignore nor deny how attracted you are and giddy and greedy at the idea of seeing it, of touching it all -when most people don't even get close enough to him to suppose what he's hiding.

It's easy to get back to Earth and the present moment with the large, blue hematoma marking his right scapula. It looks painful as hell, so much so you wonder how he's been handling it so far, how he hasn't visited the infirmary yet, how often it happens and if he always simply tighten his jaws and take the pain until it just leaves.

He turns you cheesy again. You'd like to lean forward and press a kiss to make it better. You wouldn't dare though, and you know, for a fact, that the ointment you prepared for him would be an infinite amount of times more effective to heal him.

He shudders at some point. Probably because you're taking a short eternity to do anything, or just say anything, silently contemplating instead.

Gulping hard, you start, "Bear with me, ok? It'll be better in no time." He grumbles something to himself, way too quiet for you to hear over the loud popping of your potion's bottle and the even louder rummaging of your heart in your bosom.

The first drops seem to be fine. He's not squirming under the gentle touch of your fingertips, handling the strange sensation that the potion causes at first, instantly warming up at the contact with skin. He even relaxes, letting you spread evenly all over the bruise, calm and still as the perfect patient. Until he squeals.

"Fuck, what- ah!"

On reflex, he tries to bend and twist, attempting desperately to avoid the inhumanly freezing discomfort burning his skin. You try to hold him still, hands clasped to his shoulders but he wouldn't stop wriggling, whining like a hurt puppy.

For a tough guy, he can't handle much, you decide. It's amusing but concerning as you see him move around so much, you can imagine how he's stimulating the pain coming directly from his injury rather than the ointment.

"Jungkook, stop!" He manages to knock the pile of his books down with a blind kick. "It'll last just a few seconds, calm down!" Your hands fully pressed against his bruise, the heat coming from your overly agitated heart helping, it releases some of the cold. Somehow your tiny hands on his broad back are enough and he sighs in contentment, just a tiny whimper uttered as a remnant of his short but intense torment.

"Are you ok?" You ask after a few minutes. His breathing has quieted down too. His shoulders hanging low, his head relaxed, ease and comfort have taken over his body and mind.

"Yeah. But-" Tentatively, he tests out his right shoulder, rolling it up and down a few times, a tiny impressed 'wow' escapes him and you grin to yourself, enchanted to see him acknowledge your talent. "When you said discomfort-"

"Sorry about that. I thought you wouldn't want to try but it's worth it, isn't it?"

"It is." He has a sudden burst of laughter when he turns around, flashing you a relieved smile. You can read in his eyes that he's a bit surprised, a bit confused himself about what's so funny, probably settling on the little fright the experience gave him. You won't mention that the potion, if it's so effective and this, so quickly, is because it has very highly active ingredients that mess with the organism as soon as it penetrates the skin and his insides might be a tiny bit all over the place for a few moments.

Suddenly, a big whooshing sound comes from outside, seemingly knocking against the front wall of the cabin and making it shake on its hinges. It just makes him chuckle some more, not worried the least and beyond amused by your reflex to step towards him, hands raised, this close to grabbing a hold of his shirt.

"It's just Tina getting impatient, don't worry."

"Don't worry?" You scoff. The mention of her name brings back the memory from earlier. For some reasons, Jungkook's presence now and inside that memory, make it all seem rather mundane but you're sure, you're positive that you should feel traumatized by what happened. A dragon fucking attacked you. Jungkook shoots you a crooked smile you can't say you recognise. With a little bite on the corner of his bottom lip, dark eyes squinted yet shinning mischief.

"You're safe with me." He says, voice low, teasing, as one of his hand reaches for his index and thumb to pinch lightly at your waist.

"Because they're scared of you somehow?" He laughs again, hand now encompassing your side, staring down at you. He looks so inhumanly attractive. You're confused where this intensity comes from. If it's simple lust, coming from a genuine natural place, the same as yours. Or if the potion is not still messing with him, and his hormones, possibly. It shouldn't. It's been a good ten minutes and his build wouldn't entail this long of a repercussion.

"They're not scared. They just know who's the alpha." He explains with the cockiest shit-eating grin you've ever seen. Even greasy Gilderoy Lockhart doesn't have those. You'd find him gross if he was a hundred per cent committing to the act. There's a lurch though, in the way chocolate marbles shine in childish amusement, the tendentious beam turning into a boyish one, biting back something you know would sound like a giggle if he let it escape. You chuckle yourself, hitting him on the chest -because now that he's healed, he can take it. He doesn't budge an inch, doesn't back the slightest away from you. If anything, the hand holding you slide a bit further behind your back, keeping you close. "I'm just kidding." He whispers, voice as soothing as his attentive gaze as turned. So attentive you feel your face burn with shame. As a poor attempt to deflect your focus on this, your hand raises to his chest again, fingers scrapping at a tiny default in his shirt.

"You're not." He snickers. "I still don't understand how you're not scared of them..." The question somehow was never brought up. The whole night, the day before, your friends and you spend your time praising him and asking so many questions about his life and dragons in general, the things he's seen, the things he's done, the reasons that push him to take this orientation -something about adventure and wanting to see where the world ends was the answer however you could tell it wasn't entirely the real one- but you never actually asked how come he's not terrified of these deadly creatures.

"Honestly, your students are way scarier to me than they are." Your eyes grow big with surprise as you simper. You naturally lean a bit back as you laugh, and he follows you, for some reasons, eyes fixed on you, a tiny smile shaping his mouth. "That one girl the other day, the way she looked at you."

"Yeah, they can be real brats sometimes."

"My dragons, on the other hand, are super playful and soft." He sounds like a little boy, trying to brag about his alleged better pet. Of course, he'd be lethally sexy a second and undeniably adorable the next.

"You're a bit weird, Jeon." Jungkook shrugs, not sure what to say to that because he knows you're right. He can also hear in your voice that you don't mind and he's not sure how to say that he's glad you don't. Because he doesn't say anything you force yourself to look up, study his handsome face to read him. His expression is precisely what you expect yours to look like. Content yet expecting for something more, enamoured.

It's just hard to take the first step. Impossible to overcome.

Only now, from so close he can probably feel your breath hitting his neck, you notice he has a thin beard decorating his jaw. There's a patch missing on the left. You press the tip of your index to the tender skin, noting he's probably got burnt.

"That's what happens when a baby with a cold refuses to leave your shoulder." "It sneezed on you?" He nods, grinning. "I could make something for that. And for your eyebrow too." You stare, your finger caressing the soft skin, cheating a bit and slipping to the side of his jaw where there's nothing except a barely unshaven skin. Jungkook sucks in a breath.

"Would you?"

"If you want me too. You'd be losing charm points for sure but-"

"Oh, I have those?"

For some reasons, it’s this moment your memory chooses to recycle your friend’s words. The ones about him being that great. With the pretty gold glimmer coming from his peculiar round eyes, you do not doubt that he is. “As if.” You roll your eyes, jaded by his certain lie.

And the ones about him possibly being a lot, being too much to handle follow quickly behind. He is a whole lot, from head to toes, to the very essence of his character. The thing is he’s dipped in a thick pool of sweet honey, rounding his edges into something so much more accessible, too easy to swallow, how could you not try. “Let’s not fix it then,” He starts, one of his hand roughly rubbing at his short beard. “you already have too many ahead of me.” You give him a doubtful “oh really?” look he greets with an amused grin. He’s pretty smooth for a guy that hardly ever interacts with women and humans in general. You almost ask if his pets give him dating advice but you decide to keep it for later. The cat and mouse game is getting hard to endure. You’re not bored of it but you know you’re both ready for it to turn a little less playful and a little more decisive -also you don’t know exactly what time it is, however, you do know you have a class in the morning. It (whatever it is) won’t happen with you bullying him restlessly. Maybe one of you will get tired of watching so closely the other's face, you both know the details by heart by now, are probably even able to draw them with your eyes closed, and act. There’s a subtle frown messing up his handsome face. A tiny dip of the starting lines of his eyebrows and a pout reshaping his lips. “I’m really sorry about that.” He mutters, shame dripping from his words. The pad of his thumb raises to your neck, grazing ever so lightly the skin surrounding the tiny cut Tina gave you earlier. It’s not that bad. Doesn’t even hurt anymore. When your heart is beating so fast, when your cheeks are burning so high, when your core is quivering so much, you barely remember about the cut on your neck ever hurting. He seems so sorry though. And then he’s leaning towards you, dubious eyes not leaving yours until he’s hidden in the crook of your neck and can’t see you anymore, and softly, presses his lips to the bruise. It feels like a seizure in your heart. It shouldn’t be much but it is, the softest touch, most delicate, also a beautiful promise for more to come.

You relax under him, his arm naturally sliding further behind you, pulling you flush against him. You tend your neck, expecting more, demanding more. He instead breathes in, nose buried in your hair, humming to himself as if the scent pleases him before he’s kissing your neck again, this time a more resolute kiss, with a tough pressure, a louder smack.

You can’t help but giggle, he sniffed you like an animal would, like a dragon would. The giggle turns into an embarrassing fit of laughter, the tension wearing you out probably helping a lot.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asks, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with curiosity and a smile translating his bemusement. He backs away for a second, just to see your face.

“Sorry-“ More giggles, he pinches your side, you barely manage to bite your laughter back in your throat. “Sorry but you’re really- I just didn’t realise to what extent you’ve been raised by dragons.”

He’s confused you can tell, frowning in deep thought yet not looking the least vexed. It makes you smile. Seeing him looking so adorable, a little lost, a little embarrassed. You kiss the palm of his hand, the one that’s sitting where it fits perfectly, tucked in the crook of your neck, his eyes grow big for a split second. “Cause I smelled you? Was it weird? I’m sorry, I’m just used to- like- smells are imp-“

He made it so easy for you to press your lips to his. Everything about him, from his smell to his warmth, to his smiles both from his pretty flushed lips and from the wonders he owns for eyes, his voice soothing, welcoming, words always gentle, always soft. He’s both the unknown and at the same time, the most comfortable aura you’ve ever wanted to dip in.

It’s hesitant at first, or more precisely sheepish, like testing the waters. Figuring out where you’re stepping in, noticing you’re barely keeping your nose up and afloat. It’s scary, new and exciting. Requires a little bit of practice, some intended nibbles, some timid lingering.

You’re both unsure, trying until you’re not anymore. Like a button blooming into a rose, suddenly turned bright bloody red, intense and passionate, with fierce thorns digging and scratching at the skin.

You sigh into him, he’s humming as in agreement. There’s a little agitation coming from outside. As if they know what you two are doing, how you’re feeling. As if impatient Tina can tell you’re stealing her human right under her snoot.

He is so willing to get stolen though. Chasing after your mouth when you worry for a second about the ruckus going on just behind the wall, arm tightening around you, hugging you as close as he can, his body melting with yours whenever your fingers dig in his skin.

You’re the first one to slip your fingers underclothes to just have a little sample of naked skin. It’s just past the hem of his sweatshirt, the soft and burning skin of his waist. It spurs him on. As if he was just waiting for you to give him permission, his hands find a home under your shirt. Flat on your skin, so large, so hearty, raw skin from someone who’s worked with those hands a lot, feeling so nice on you, feel like he’s holding you captive in between the palms.

The hand against your back slides up, stopping an instant where your bra is sealed, toying with it as if he’s wondering if he can. Deeming that he can’t, for some unknown reason, he goes further to grip the back of your neck. You’re too busy with his tongue teasing yours, with the growing stiffness digging in your stomach to notice. Have your brain been less occupied, you would probably have the fingers playing with the ends of his hair, pulling a little harsher than they already are. He’s loving it, it seems. Moaning each time you do, groaning each time your nails slip through the hair to scrap at his skin.

Everything is too good. Everything feels made to be, bodies made to meet and make up. It feels like this could be enough. Highly satisfying, more delicious than any make-out session has ever felt because none of those boys before were Jeon Jungkook and never have you liked someone as much as you like him.

But Jeon Jungkook can’t be perfect. You don’t know if he means to be to tease or if it’s just him holding onto some doubts, some insecurities, not wanting to go too far without you explicitly telling him that it’s what you want -because, clearly, it’s not evident enough, the way you’re hanging off of his mouth, limp in his arms, subjectively grinding against his cock can’t be telling enough.

His second hand, the one closest to all the places you want him to invade, won’t give in. Set on your stomach, his thumb retracing the underline of your bra, this hand is the very incarnation of a tormentor. You don’t last long, grousing in your mind, losing your shit and your patience, giving him chances after chances to finally get to it but of course he never does.

Your frustration reaches its limits when you back away from him, hitting his chest with your fist, breathless and frowning.

He’s too dazed, hooded eyes barely seeing anything but your swollen mouth, to comprehend. Until you bark his name, punching him again.

Jungkook takes in your mad eyes, scrunched eyebrows and impatient tapping of your foot on the cabin's floor.

“Touch me.” You whine more than you demand. His light chuckles fill the suffocating air, diffusing a little bit of the tension and maybe it’s not for the worst.

“Is that all?” He asks, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your pouty mouth. “You scared me.”

“I don’t care.” He is so gentle on your lips. The sweetest touch you’ve ever received there. Your heart is growing exponentially, threatens to burst in your chest and you’re loving every single second of it.

“You’re a bit mean when you’re frustrated, you know that?” He can hardly contain his amused grin long enough to kiss you. Explicitly telling you, he doesn’t care much for your moody outbursts. “And,” Another kiss right in the centre of your awaiting lips. “I was touching you.”

“Not enough.”

“What’s enough, lil’ brat?” He mumbles against the skin of your neck, biting a little at it, definitely grinning to himself there. You almost cum there.

“Touch me here.”

You can sense his cockiness drops to the ground when you grab his hands and press them to your clothed breasts. He just gapes, too shocked to act, as if it’s the first pair he’s coming in contact with. You have to do everything on his behalf and really, thankfully for him, you like him that much you don’t hold it against him. Tearing the cups of your bra down and under your breasts, guiding his long fingers to your tender mounds, he takes in a shaky breath, his curious eyes borne into yours.

Tentatively, he wraps his hands around them, weighing them, the pad of his thumb caressing the skin, enjoying taking extra time on the nipple.  You can tell he wants it, he’s too willing to touch you, yet his mouth, the stupid thing, starts to stutter, “B-but, I don’t think righ-“

“Please.” And if this isn’t enough, you’re giving up. You’ve tried so hard. Asking, moving his hands for him, pleading with your boobs out and your shirt bunched up over them. If this isn’t enough, you’re giving up and probably kicking him in the dick in your way out.

His puppy eyes fall from your eyes down to your breast, almost reluctantly. He leaves out a tiny whimper of pain. As if he’s the one hurting. As if it’s not you, the one suffering, the one tortured, because he’s been messing with you, shaking your insides upside down, baiting and lightening up sparkles but refusing to feed you accordingly the way you need to. As if he’s not the only one inflicting himself the torment, refusing to give in for reasons you don’t understand.

Until something clicks in his brain, finally, common sense meeting desires, his mouth fall from your neck and straight to your nipple, kissing hungrily. Licking and sucking and nibbling, moaning almost as much as you do. Once both your nipples are swollen and a pretty flush, he senses your sensitivity, deciding to drop from the buds, meaning to cover the whole supple surface of your tits with lovely kisses and infuriating grazing of the teeth.

The position is awkward. Him bent in half, you on your tiptoes, trying to ease the access for him while simultaneously ordering your wobbly legs to keep on supporting you. The task is not easy, so poorly executed he gets tired of it in seconds, big hands seizing you to pick you up, holding you close, your legs wrap around his waist, so comfortable, so natural, somehow more convenient for him, he doesn’t seem to be in the least amount of effort as he feasts gladly on your chest. His hands stay on your ass, fingers digging, occasionally dragging you up and down his front where you can feel him hot and hard against your centre, a few times squeezing and tearing your cheeks apart. If this is not what paradise tastes like, then you don’t know what is.

It’s perfect pleasure, pure satisfaction.

But of course, you’re human.

Soon, it’s not enough, anymore. And more and more you want and you need. You can feel your cunt clench around nothing, drops of honey dripping from the side hems of your panties crotch. He’s so good to you, lavishing and ravishing your breast like it’s the only job he’s ever wanted but you want more. Maybe you’ll let him worship you another day. Place the kisses and paint the marks he wants on every inch of your body.

Right now you need release. Any kind. He’s pent you up to a point, you can’t handle the idea of not letting any steam out.

You’re about to get bitchy again. Getting saltier and saltier at every empty-handed clench of your cunt. If you don’t take a step now, make him take the step, you’ll turn into a sex-deprived gremlin again, this time worse than earlier, and it’s not a good look you wish for him to see -again.

“Jungkook?” You can sense him perk up at the call of your name, even though he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He hums against your nipple, held tight in between his wet lips. “Fuck, Guk- just- uh- your bed.” No reaction. You suspect he didn’t even listen. “Take me to your bed, Jungkook!” It’s the harsh pull on his hair that’s made him look up and pay attention to your words. Like an obedient puppy with unmatching dark eyes, he nods, swirling around to head for his bed, carrying you effortlessly like you're not a full-grown adult hanging from his neck.

You’re about to meet his sheets. You’re about to get ravished and treated so, so right. You can tell from all the promises his hooded gaze has no shame sharing. Anticipation is killing you. The tenderness and affection along with the evident intense lust you read in him are killing you. Your back is just about to meet his sheets when it just doesn’t. He’s holding you centimètres away from it, eyebrows frowned, preoccupation taking over his face and covering everything sexy that fitted it so prettily.

“I can’t have you on this bed.”

“Wha- why?!” Maybe you yelled a bit. He winces. You don’t know what you look like right now, lust turned into pure fury, you just hope if you feel and talk like a gremlin, you still don’t look like one.

“Have you seen it? It’s not even a bed, it’s just a pile of dirty rags probably a thousand years old-“ It’s sweet and annoying, infuriating beyond belief. He’s blushing too. One foot hitting with spite the pile of rags he was given to use as a bed.

You want to cry.

“Why are you so fucking difficult, Jungkook?” You spit his name with venom, forehead hitting his shoulder, defeated as you feel. He’s hugging you closer, hands less sexual and just warm tenderness as they slide along your spine, pressing you closer if it’s even possible. Feels nice. But your panties, the soaked ruined cloth that is uncomfortably sticking to your cunt are reminding you you’re hating this moment.

“I don’t mean to. I- you deserve better than-“

“But you sleep on it!”

“I can sleep anywhere, it doesn’t matter but you’re too pretty to be laying on this.” You huff at that. Too frustrated to just take the compliment and let it shake your belly with the butterflies in it like a kid would a Christmas snow globe. “I’m sorry.”

“Should apologise to yourself, why you’re sleeping in it if it’s shit? Don’t you deserve better?”

He can tell how you feel. You’re kind enough to let everything clear as day, written in a language he mastered in so little time, an intimate one he’s only allowed to see. He sees the disappointment. Also the ease you’re feeling. The lust that’s not left. The despair and frustration tinted by dark shades of anger. You look cute as hell. All pouty and mushy in his arms. Whining and complaining and so angry yet fingers gently caressing the nape of his neck. He can tell you’re bitchy, feel like arguing but probably want something else even more.

“Wouldn’t it be better to use your bed instead? I saw it yesterday, looks nice.” He suggests, kissing your jaw to relax you.

“It is, it’s a troll size.” You lean your head back, giving more space for his mouth, mumbled words hardly falling from your pout.

“I saw that.” He says, amusement teasing the corner of his eyes.

“Professor Jeon!” The amusement completely annihilates from his eyes, his pretty rosy lips falling in a shocked o, along with all colours leaving his face. You gasp silently, wide eyes matching his.

There’s a terrifying succession of thuds shaking the little cabin, the call of his name again. Slowly, he releases you from his arms, making sure you meet the ground without emitting the least noise.

“I told you I had a class-“ he mimes with his mouth rather than speak.

“You never told me that?”

“I mean- I tried to but you wouldn’t- you wouldn’t list-“

“Professor Jeon?” More knocking on the door. You both hear the man outside mumbling to himself, a little commotion and you can tell, he’s trying to find a way to reach the window to have a look through it. Jungkook jumps on it, tearing the curtain in front of the blurry glass.

“Yes- uhm-“

“Are you okay? The class is ready for today’s demonstration! We’re all excited about that Opaleye you’ve talked ab-“

“Hagrid, I- I need to- finish get ready so- if you and the class could wait- f-five seconds?”

You are fuming. Glaring at him with the meanest eyes you own. Smoke probably coming out of every orifice, desperately trying to leave out some steam or else you’ll be spitting fire better than his fucking pets do. Tucking your boobs back in your bra, tearing your teeshirt back down, probably looking as miserable as you feel.

He’s apologetic though. One hand holding yours between gentle fingers, massaging kindly the palm of your hand. Looking guilty as hell, pouty with the watery eyes, a sweetheart.

And you like him. The realisation hits you once again, full force, you like him a whole lot. Frustration fading into compliance, leaving you helpless, about to forgive him wholeheartedly and suggest to come back later when his schedule sees it more fitting.

“Alrighty! I’ll show them that cute baby dragon I see over there-“

Jungkook winces visibly. Even you can tell it’s not a good idea to leave Hagrid alone with kids and dragons unsupervised, his reputation precedes him, unfortunately. He doesn’t hint a gesture towards the door though. Observing you with attentive eyes, the same from earlier, as if he’s trying to memorise your traits with utter accuracy, knowing he won’t be seeing it for at least the whole day ahead. You should suggest he takes a picture, it’ll last longer. But you’re overwhelmed with a vague wave of sadness, suddenly, so close to the parting from him and so unready for it.

You don’t know if he sees it, senses it, if when he kisses you hard on the mouth it’s to make himself feel better or if it’s just for you. It works in any case. Your heart filled up as it’d been, with lust and affection and something that can’t be but is so akin to love.

“I wish you didn’t have a class-“

“Do you want me?” He asks in a breathless whisper. The question is ridiculous, the answer being so fucking evident, you’d hit him to the side of the head if you didn’t like so much how intimate, how sexy he sounds murmuring against your lips.

You nod. Realising as you try and fail that he’s stolen all air from you -and probably a few other things like your heart and sanity along the way.

“Can you be quiet?” His hands have already dropped from your face, attached to the hem of your pants, hurried fingers proceeding to open them up. The situation in its entirety with the environment, with the people outside at most a dozens of meters away, the awkwardness, the everything can’t hit you, can’t take a sensible shape. No information able to be treated because of him, his everything, the whole lot that he is, infuriating, dizzying, shattering, moving. All you know is that you can be quiet, you can be whatever he wants you to be right this instant.

“I’m sorry for being so terrible at all that-“ He starts, sincere but light, amused, comfortable with you -and that’s the nicest look you’ve seen on him. “I’ll make it up to you until later when I- can really make it up to you.”

It’s funny to see the two facades of his personality clash like that. He’s apologising, red in the cheeks, but also a mouth, reshaped by a confident fatal crooked smirk, stating promises as facts.

How does he know he’ll make it up to you? How does he know he’ll make you feel good enough you’ll forgive his clumsiness?

“I’ll need more than five seconds, Jeon.” That makes him chuckle silently, shaking his head and squinting in defiance.

“You’ll need hardly more than that.” He says, dragging your pants and your panties at once, down a few centimetres.

Heat burns your face as air hits your centre. It feels shockingly exposing even if he can't see much from up there, with your shirt down, with little to no light coming from the curtained window and his large hand, that doesn’t wait for a second, slipping in between your thighs, covering your mound instantly as his mouth covers yours.

He’s right. This fucker.

You don’t time but you know he makes you come incredibly fast.

First starting by sliding a lone finger in your heat to quickly realise that you are soaking wet, sloppy to be exact, perfectly able to fit at least two and probably a third one easily. And he obliges so, filling the torturous void, fucking you with them slowly, dragging the pad of his rough fingers along your walls, teasing your sensitive entrance with lovely, lovely strokes. The sound -and he has to slow down to keep it quiet enough- is obscene. You don’t remember the last time you’ve been so fucking turned on. Dripping down your legs and unto his hand.

He spends only a few minutes on that, on fucking you nice and open when you both know he won’t even be able to fill you as you both wish he would until, well, some undefined time. It should be revolting, that thought, sort of a quick, immediate satisfaction for a long term painful wait.

But then his fingers leave your hole to migrate to your clit, as engorged as ever, as it’s not been for a long, long time, all of this for this stupid crush, from this stupid man, from his kisses and his scent, and his purposefully neglecting to give it attention. A few strokes only, fast and hard, messy and desperate with a sweet pet name he’s never used but fits so nice from his lips press to your ear and you’re coming, hole kissing emptiness, it sucks but you're invaded with so much content, legs shaking, heart beating fast, remnants of the orgasm reshaping the whole stance of your body, feels like you've just moved in an entirely new one, and head dizzy, feeling in love.

“Told you.” He’s chuckling to himself. Full of himself as he wipes you clean with a teeshirt he just picked up from an open travelling bag.

“Shut up, Jungkook.” You groan. One hand holding onto his bicep while his owns diligently tie back your pants, fixing you like nothing happened. The orgasm has been so good, it devoided you of all strength and energy you may have had.

You need to leave. Or more precisely, he needs to leave and meet the class, take them away probably in the forest so that you can escape and flee back to the castle. It’s inevitable.

You close your eyes for a second. Trying to empty your head, focus on breathing properly again, hiding how upset you feel. It’s not that dramatic. Surely, you’ll catch him again, today probably, later, tonight, but you feel so upset. Like a little girl. You don’t want to leave him yet.

Jungkook calls your name softly. You open your eyes, biting on your lip to contain all the emotions wanting to spill out right under his nose.

“Do you like me?” This time you have to throw a punch to his side -it hurts your knuckles more than it does him- because how dare he ask and look so unsure of the answer. “Well, I don’t know- I don’t- you never know with women and- and like- I- you never said-“

“I’ve liked you for two years, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Two...?”

You see the gears rolling, slowly, unsettled by big knots of confusion. You’re sweet, you’re generous and you just came in his hand, literally, so you have no issue admitting -with only a slight blush on the apple of your cheeks, “When you first came for the Triwizard Tournament.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t-“ Again with the apologies. With the looking so pitiful, with the guilt, with the him being so lovely of a man, especially when he’s so big and covered in all those warlike scars.

“Well you had this in your eyes anyway, would have been hard to notice me.” You joke, stealing one of the locks hiding behind his ear and tickling his eyelids with it. He scoffs, smiling before he slips it back where it was.

“Thanks to Taehyung, I have a hair tie now. So that I can see you better.” He’s beaming, staring at you fondly, it’s insufferable and you look away, embarrassed as ever because those big eyes being just yours, admiring you -for what too?- are hard to handle. You need practice.

“Is it your dragons teaching you all this cheesy garbage-“ He cackles at that, not even letting you finish and you’re loving the idea that it’s you causing that. “You need better wingpets.” He laughs even harder, you’re grinning even harder until a screech, ear-splitting, resonates through the whole surrounding forest. For a second you wonder if it’s not just Tina throwing a fit because she heard how her master is having so much fun with someone else than her but there’s a commotion following and what sounds like a seventeen-year-old Slytherin boy losing his shit, yelling and crying, and alarm takes over Jungkook's face.

“Can I see you tonight?” He asks in a hurry and you nod. “I’ll meet you in your room after I trained-“ A big smooch to your lips. “Actually maybe before, I don’t know, I-“

“Just go, Jungkook.” His eyes say something his mouth can’t, you can read the trepidation, as he sprints to the door, gaze not leaving you.

You can’t be sure a hundred per cent but you’re almost certain he just told you that he really likes you too and suddenly, you don’t feel as upset as you did, knowing you will find him back later.

« Thanks for earlier. »

For a second, you don’t know what he’s referring to. Until he points a finger towards his crotch, a little flush showing on his cheeks, where his hair doesn’t reach. 

That makes you laugh. You shrug your shoulders, waving his thank away because of course, you wouldn’t let him run in the middle of a class full of teenagers with a rock hard cock showing through his pants. 

Too focused on the possible catastrophe happening in his front yard, he didn’t seem to realise, if any discomfort or pain ever existed he couldn’t acknowledge it but you surely did. 

After having it pressed to your crotch, having felt its hardness and its heat, there’s no way you’d be able to just stop thinking about it. Then in the cabin, with your tingling cunt and sticky panties, and the whole day ahead, no matter how far away from him you were, physically and supposedly mentally, it’s just all you could think about. 

Blushing incessantly at the least stimulating moments. Gagging back giggles whenever a word, a touch, a smile of his recalled itself to you, and this in front of confused and suspicious eyes.

The whole day was a pain. It simply wouldn’t roll fast enough. 

Now here you are, standing in front of him, not recognising him fully. He’s hiding behind his hair again. He’s quiet and awkward like he too forgot how to talk to you. 

Maybe that’s what you get for meddling with him so quickly. Suppose you get separated for a short dozen of hours, he becomes a stranger again. 

It’s an awful feeling. Seems like maybe you made it all up. The comfort, the noncommittal love and adoration, the ease, the lust, the warmth. Maybe all of it was just a hazy dream. Made up yesterday evening by alcohol and this early morning by fatigue. 

Here you are sober and empty of any other commitment and you can’t picture how you could have gotten to that special place and how to find it back if it ever existed.

“You’ve let your hair down.” You simply say. Maybe it’s your way to point out aloud how you feel like you’ve been thrown a thousand steps back. He’s hiding behind his hair, being unreachable again. 

“Yeah, I just- they were all staring so I felt awkward-“ You mean to interrupt, let him know because you’re sure that he doesn’t (the boy from the bar yesterday didn’t know) that if they were staring it’s because he is that beautiful and certainly no one has expected that. “I wanted to tie it back for now but I lost the little thingy.” You take a step forward, closing some of the distance between him standing against the wall and you in the middle of your room. The more you hear his soft voice, the more you recognise him. “I hope Taehyung won’t be mad, I can buy a new one for him.” You could probably point out that Jungkook probably did not lose anything. That probably Taehyung used a charm and like any of those, the object you didn’t pay for, that materialised itself from thin air, simply disappeared after some time. Maybe you’ll tell him later. Right now you’re close to him again, so close you can catch a glimpse of an eye under the pretty locks. Your ears recognise him, your nose too, and you’re impatient to see if your fingers would too. 

You reach up, catching his fringe in between your fingertips and dragging them behind his ears, opening the silky curtain and smiling to yourself, eyes almost blurry with emotion, when you see his handsome face now on display. With the pretty brown eyes, the rosy lips, the cut eyebrow and that scar on his cheek, just above his timid dimple that shows up only when it wants. 

“Hi.” 

“Hello.” He squeaks out, flushing. “I must look ridiculous-“ He gestures you his hair your holding hostage behind his ears, taking advantage to caress his soft skin with the pad of your thumbs. 

“You look cute.” He does. He looks a bit awkward, like a boy who just finds himself with too much hair and tries to do something about it. “Very cute.” You add, beaming when you see his embarrassment grow. 

“Liar.”

He catches one of your wrists in his hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the thin skin of the inner part. Lips soft, eyes soft, voice tender. “I thought about you a lot today...” Somehow he found you back too. He feels comfortable saying this while you’re sure he’s not used to it. Therefore even if you hate it, you can’t help but admit it. That you too, obviously, could only think about him the whole day. “I’m not here to stay forever, ___.” 

Your airy smile flatters until it disappears completely. 

Way to ruin the mood. 

He senses it. Press the hand leaving his face back against his cheek, pressing the second one to his mouth again as if he could bring you back to him and forget all about what he just implied. 

Obviously. 

Obviously, his life is not here, in Hogwarts. He’s not a professor, he doesn’t want to become one, he’s here for a project that has a defined limited time - Mrs Umbridge made sure of it. He’s an adventurer anyway. He only knows forest and lands and mountains and mythical creatures, extreme weathers and dangerous places. 

Obviously, you two only properly met a few days ago, only started to get to know each other less than 24 hours ago, it’s too soon to be in love, too soon to be so attached that a separation would feel that devastating. But even if you’re not, you feel in love. You feel wonderful in his arms, under his gaze, with his pretty smiles lighting on you and his sweet voice rocking your heart. 

It’s so upsetting to think about. You don’t want to. Just him hardly bringing it up makes you so upset you could cry. 

“But I- I know that you know that already. Maybe it’s clear for you that- we can’t-“ The more he talks the less sense he makes. Every syllabus seems dragged out of his mouth. He struggles so bad, your hand distractingly playing with the neck of his shirt, only because his hand wouldn’t let it go, you can feel his beating heart through the thick vein of his neck. “What I mean to say is- I don’t know what this- could mean to you. If it means anything or it’s just- like- fun,” Your eyebrow ticks at that. How dare he? “either way I don’t mind-“ He’s quick to add. “Really! Whatever you want is fine. I just mean to say that we can’t- I mean- at some point, I’ll be very very far away so-“

“Does it matter now, Jungkook?” 

The whole dilemma is not that hard to solve, on your part anyway. There’s nothing you can do about his future departing, is it? All that’s under your control is either you decide to indulge in him, have him the way you crave to, feed in this lovely thing that’s started blooming yesterday evening between you two and later on, deal with the heartbreak you’ll surely have once he leaves. Or will you deny yourself this, still get the heartbreak but way earlier on and have to nurture it for probably less long but in this peculiar case, through a thick coat of regrets. 

You hate to think about it all. You hate to think about a time when he’s not going to be around, not even only appearing at the end of a hallway, not even noticing you, not doing anything special except existing and breathing the same air as yours. 

It’s clear for you. He’s right here, right now, literally right under your hands, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’re going to consume as much as him as you possibly can, if only he’ll let you. 

He looks worried, concerned. Not on the same page as you maybe. Guilty too. While it’s not his fault. It’s your own stupid, unpractical dumbass’s fault for falling for the only guy that lives like a fucking wild animal and is probably inept to leave his wild savage life for more than a couple of months at a time. 

An attempt nibble to his bottom lip. Your eyes shut close slowly as to not squeeze a droplet menacing to fall from your eye. He sighs deeply, leaning into your mouth for a moment. 

“I guess it doesn’t have to matter now.” He decides, pressing a new kiss to the relieved smile growing on you. 

"Cause you had a few things to show me, I believe..." It's subtle. Sort of. The words may be but the eyes you give him are not, demanding, minxy. Your intentions are no secret to him and you can tell in the way he smirks, kissing you again, this time his warm palms holding your cheeks still. He's made up his mind too.

It's all you needed to wash it all behind. Everything that could be too heavy for your shoulders or your heart to carry right now. Anything that could affect this moment, tarnish it, make it lesser than it could be.

It just has to be good. Only good and nothing else. His hands everywhere, on your ass, squeezing, on your breast, fondling. He seems to have remembered what you like. He's not withholding, he's not overly gentle. He's still awfully tender, awfully sweet because it's just the essence of his person, you feel it in every breath you steal from him. The way he carries you so softly, sitting you down on his lap as careful as ever as to not have you tip over and fall off of the bed.

When you're so greedy and almost rude in comparison, lavishing in the position he just offered you, groaning when you feel his thick thighs stretching yours wide, grinding already, sliding forward to feel his hardness anew against you. You touch him everywhere because his body feels surreal. Hard and taut and skin boiling even through his clothes. Your hands disorganized, impatient, start by unbuckling his belt to then jump to the hem of his shirt, dragging the cloth up and off of him.

You hardly catch a glimpse of fair honey skin before the light is shut off suddenly. There's the very recognizable thud of a wand hitting the wooden floor that hints at you that he's the one who did turn it off and you want to whine and complain and maybe even argue a little, and maybe more, enough for him to turn it back on but his wet mouth is sucking at your collarbone, the indignant scold dies into an insignificant, trembling whimper.

He lets you undress him. Even if you're missing the visual, you decide you'll enjoy the touch. His skin is so soft, too soft in a few spots where you guess he's been hurt, uneven, little bumpy traits, here and there, like the trace of a road on a map, scattered all over his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He feels wonderful under your fingers. Hot and soft. He smells heavenly, encaging you as he does, you're bathing in his scent, earthy, smoky, masculine.

You have the push him away, a hand on his jaw, another on his chest to have him quit mouthing at your skin and lay his back down on the mattress. In the very dim light, you catch his shiny eyes, wide and intense as they observe you in the dark. You lean over, pressing kisses you hope as loving as his on his skin, starting from his cheek, you feel moving under your lips from him smiling, descending to his hard belly without missing a spot.

Your mouth turns extra delicate when your lips meet uneven skin, as if you could hurt him, as if he hasn't been long healed and your lips aren't the last thing that could ever hurt him, it makes him gasps and sighs though, each time, you feel his abs tighten under you, his thighs stiffen.

"Am I hurting you?" You ask quietly, even if you doubt it.

"Yeah-" He sighs and you freeze. "I mean no! No, no, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" You insist and he groans in defeat. You might be palming his cock through his pants, which you should be patient enough to wait until he answers properly if you'd honestly like an answer. But the rock hard member has been poking your thigh for too long and you can't help it. He's so responsive too, concealing poorly his groans and his moans, his whole body and cock twitchy under you.

You're close to giving him more. To give him fully what he came for. Nails grazing with intent the line where the hem of his underwears lay but not moving down further, hinting at something more but not giving in yet.

It's exhilarating to have him so docile under you, waiting, hardly patiently, for you to give him what he wants and you can tell, from how hard he is, that he really does want it. He sucks his breath in one more time, loudly, and you snickers above him, excited as you are.

Until he decides it's enough. Raising one thigh fast and hard, pushing at your ass, making you tip over with a squeal. He catches you with the cheeky chuckle you've grown to adore, rolling you unto your back so he can hover over you. You feel so tiny under him, with his strong thick arms encasing you, the line of his wide shoulders barely decipherable in the dark. Your hand follows the line, appreciating him to be so willing to be touched, always leaning onto your fingers. When it stops at his chest, your fingers mean to play a little but you're stopped in your track by the thudding hitting your palm. It takes you a hot second to realise it's his heart, being so loud and agitated, so expressive from where it's hidden. Of course, someone as reserved as him would have a heart that vocal.

"Your heart's beating so hard." You comment quietly. You don't mean to embarrass him. You don't even mean to reverse the power button hanging between the both of you. Yours in your own chest has to be causing a similar ruckus. But it's his that matters right now. You can't get over the fact that it's for you.

"Stop teasing me." He grumbles. He's not even vexed. He's embarrassed, but you hear the slim smile in his voice, a sheepish one.

"I'm not. You should feel mine." He hums against your mouth, then backs away laughing a bit.

"Smooth."

"It wasn't-" You sigh in defeat. It was not a subtle attempt to have him take care of your tits. Seriously. He's too glad to comply though, you're not one to complain.

You only have a vague notion of time passing, of things progressing. Somehow a second he's suckling on your nipples through the thin material of your top and the next, both of you are naked, panting in each other's face. Your nipples erect and still wet, occasionally rubbing against his chest, two of his thick fingers pumping in between your folds, a third one occasionally teasing the entrance, hinting at a stretch you're so greedy to feel even though you're not sure you can take; your hands wrapped around his shaft, pumping furiously, squeezing hard to have him hiss and curse against your lips, with your thumb teasing the slit of the tender slick head.

His free hand is at your neck, resting there, fingertips pressing in your skin, his thumb toying with your swollen bottom lip whenever he's biting too hard on his own to kiss you properly.

"I'm close..." You whimper, nibbling on the flesh of his thumb. He smiles vaguely at you, hooded eyes unfocused, eyebrows scrunched from pleasure. "I want you, Jungkook."

"Like now?" Fuck. You really have to like the guy a lot. He dares stop fucking you too, all attention now driven to your face. You don't say anything, your eyes telling enough. He nods to himself. "Okay, now. But uh-"

"Jungkook, sometimes you're half-useless." You try not to be mean but you can't help some snarkiness to escape. You have patience. You have a lot of it. But he just makes everything so difficult. How can you be sin and temptation embodied and at the same time, be so fucking clueless? He's like the cure but also the disease.

You roll over on your bed, grabbing a condom from your bedside table that a certain friend I don't need to name provided you with, to then face him again, brandishing the foil packet in his face.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to-" He seems confused for a second, struggling to get the thing open and you wonder if it's been as long as it's been for you since the last time he's been with someone like that, or if it's been even longer. "but-" Growing even more impatient, you jump on your knees, kneeling next to him, taking the thing from him and tearing it open for him. "You're, like, a lot."

You stay silent for probably too long, frozen, hit by his words probably too intensely.

"In a good way! In a- in a, you're- I like you a lot and it makes me all-" He's talking too much you decide. Stuttering the sweetest things you have a hard time hearing while you're both naked in your bed, so near to get even closer, even more intimate to each other in a way you're too excited about to handle any extra pandering -especially given, you know exactly what he meant. Who would have thought? Jeon Jungkook talking so much you'd have to kiss him quiet.

"How do you like it?" He asks in a whisper, kissing your jaw in a way that makes you shudder. He's making you lightheaded, so dizzy, with the stupid jumps between his sexy lust-filled self and the adorable clueless dude he can also be.

"Just- however you'll have me." You answer, ignoring blatantly that it doesn't mean much.

So he decides. Laying you down on your back, hovering you. The thought that maybe you are made for each other hits you full face then, because that's exactly how you'd like him to have you. Just like earlier, so close, so intimate, sort of intimidating, dominating too. All yours and you, even more, his, with his soft locks caressing your forehead, lips so close you hardly have to make any effort to reach, not that he lets you have your mouth for your own for too long anyway, every few seconds, claiming it with lingering kisses tasting of greed. You know you're in trouble as soon as the very tip of his cock squeezes in. It's somehow a tight fit, even with his earlier ministrations, even with the ones from this morning that made you feel loose all fucking day. Jungkook only fucks you with the head of his shaft for a while, feeling you so tight around him, savouring the sensation but also worried he'd hurt you if he were to go further.

You're on edge. On edge of a devastating orgasm, already too fucking close, and even if you could blame it on the foreplay, on your hormones or whatever else, he'd know. He'd know it's because of him, because of how much you like him, of how good he makes you feel, how much he turns you on.

You don't really care. He's already panting in your ear, groaning and moaning with tight jaws about how good you feel and how pretty you are, when he's only half of the way inside and that's more than enough. It's kind of too much. Kind of impossible to handle.

It's a mewl to the shell of his ear and the digging of your nails in his firm ass that push him further and balls deep inside you. It feels like discovering new places within yourself, places you haven't reach before alone or with someone else, brings a rush of excitement to your whole body that translates in a vice tight clench around him.

He fucks you so good, it feels so nice, his cock was made for you. His rhythm steady, rather slow but powerful, sending you a tiny bit higher on the bed at each thrust, with one arm slid behind your back, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to hold you still enough. It's little to no effect but it drives you crazy, having him own you like that. From all those places, his dick, his thigh pressing yours higher, his hands, his mouth, his words. Bewitching, he is. Everything feels and sounds and touches him, the air you breath tastes like him.

You wish it'd last forever but it can't. Like everything that tastes that wondrous.

"Jungkook, I think- uh- gonna come." You lie because you don't think, you know you're about to come even if it's been a couple of minutes since he's started. Conveniently, the moon chooses this very moment to come out of wherever she was hiding, shining right through the only window of your suite and hitting him right in the face to bring clear light to him and to his grin, the smug grin you've only caught glimpses of. Your nails dig deeper in his flesh, he gasps lightly and bites on his lip but the smirk doesn't leave, even though it looks ridiculous with his heavy droopy gaze, his red cheeks and his heaving. He's as affected as you are. And that's that precise revelation that throws you over the edge. You mewl aloud, turned euphoric with how incredible it feels to have him keep fucking you through your orgasm, with his cock dragging along your tight, sensitive entrance with his movements.

Soon he follows. You don't exactly catch the moment, too lost in your own euphoria to decipher when his begins, but you feel the change in his thrusts, sloppy and harsher, skin slapping louder in the quiet room and once you've both bathed fully in the pleasure, came back to the now calmer, quieter Earth, you realise your ear rings with the ghost of a raw, low scream that certainly was his.

Fuck, you need to hear this again but this time with your full, undivided attention.

But another time.

Right now, you're half dead. Your hearts have just started coming down from their high. With him laying almost entirely on you. The most of his weight he safely pressed to your side but he's clinging to you, the round tip of his nose buried in your neck, hands holding you tight against him and legs intertwined with yours. Your hand has found its way to his hair, the ungodly mess, fingers gently massaging his scalp, rolling the curls in between.

"So warm..." He hums against your skin, almost purrs. You smile lazily. "Never wanna leave."

"You don't have to." It's the exhaustion that renders your filter ineffective. You know you shouldn't have said that. You know even more so when he doesn't say anything back. "For now, I mean." You don't even know how much of this is a lie. If you really were only thinking about this moment, this night or if the future you both know too well, ugly but very real just waiting its moment to play out, was also on your mind. You're too tired and concretely, fucked out, to even think properly.

"I still have four months." It's a poor consolation. You don't mean to spoil it all. After having spent such a precious, wondrous time with him, you don't want to fuck it all up but you can't help your heart from squeezing painfully in your chest, your throat from struggling to swallow down the heavy ball that's lodged up there. Jungkook senses it. You know he does by the way he holds you tighter, pressing one of those kisses, the most tender ones, at the corner of your lips. "We'll figure something out." He says with an assertion you didn't expect and don't know the origins of. Yet, you trust him and the lump in your throat decides to leave for now.

Somehow, persuaded that you and your heart are safe with him.

A/N: i can’t believe i finished this fucking monster. i need sleep. i’m sorry if it’s not super well edited, i did the 33 pages in one go and yeah. also it’s been so long since i wrote actual explicit smut, i have no idea how it turned out. 😳 let me know :)

to anyone who’s made it this far, thank you so, so, so much. you have my infinite gratefulness and i sincerely hope you enjoyed it.

i’m off to sleep, i hope you are having a wonderful day. stay safe, lots of lots of love 💜

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat​ Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge. 

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears. 

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat​ for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes. 

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic. 

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?” 

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier. 

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring. 

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.” 

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.” 

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing. 

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead. 

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?” 

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.” 

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more. 

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve. 

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

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A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.” 

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright. 

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray. 

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone. 

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.” 

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.” 

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes. 

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt. 

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently. 

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you. 

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him. 

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste  of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done. 

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.” 

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.” 

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.” 

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby. 

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That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two. 

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again. 

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar. 

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one. 

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol. 

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.” 

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.” 

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?” 

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

 “Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?” 

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod. 

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.” 

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him. 

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in. 

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways. 

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.” 

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them.  “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth. 

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking. 

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining. 

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment. 

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.”  Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him. 

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you. 

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.” 

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast. 

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell. 

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder. 

��Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer. 

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?” 

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?” 

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him. 

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”  

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.” 

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart. 

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?” 

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?” 

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him. 

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge. 

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night. 

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly. 

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.” 

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.” 

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?” 

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?” 

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.” 

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.” 

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to. 

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.” 

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.” 

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.” 

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall. 

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head. 

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up. 

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.” 

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.” 

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City

[d3monslust]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀.𝐃.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Only setting up traps for them , Andy didn't see any of this coming

𝐖𝐂 : 3,151

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage & abusive relationships , cheating , manipulation , violence

𝐀/𝐍 : tumblr deleted the original and I thought for couple of minutes I haven’t backed it up to the point I had a panic attack :) also I worked really hard for this , any kind of interaction is appreciated!!

////////////////June 7th 2020\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Every story has a happy ending , where the villain gets defeated and the heroes win , but in eden , no one could recognize the corruption and the decent. Everyone hid their darkest and filthiest desires deep down inside them , in their abyss of their souls . Andy knew that , from first hand . He was still getting to know the place , the idle juveniles laying in the sandy beaches , the laughs of the middle aged men echoing through the thickness of the trees’ leaves . A literal paradise ... with no God .

Dolan had promised his wife to keep her safe, and eventually after his decadence , he was more fazed than anything . Their inseparable form could be made out from kilometers ago, their vivid and full of life auras leaving hints of sunshine from time to time . Winning the couple of the year and being stunned was not in their plans but the did not dodge it . Until Dolan started venturing at inexcusable bars , reciprocal pink lipstick decorating one side of his neck while he reclined next to his bond , mumbling about his ambiguous accomplishments. He had her to the point , Mariah felt overwhelmed. The weight of his nifty assets , the gravitas of his clumsy , yet anticipated acts made her scream and wince .

But Mariah David Dolan , did not intend on giving up so easily , only because her husband was demonstrating his incompetent self . Haphazardly, or not , the female found herself at Sherlock’s , who fasty evaluated and corrupted all of her nasty problems . Taken the right measurements, Mariah decided to treat themselves to a dinner , the brunette averting his gaze back from his laptop to his wife. “Did something happen ?” Mariah never cooked , even at special , “crowded” occasions , she wouldn’t lay a finger at the metallic kitchenware . “No . I just though about all the work you’re recently hooked with. A nice dinner with your wife would help you blow off some steam” smirking at the fit of the last words, she left Dolan alone, drowning in his intellectually safe thoughts.

The capriciousness of the vexing atmosphere made the couple exchange some absurd looks. With Andy being the always tired one, sexual intercourse was lost long ago . “Something you would like to say ?” “No .” She went for a debate , any sort of the key for relationships , communication. If that clink unraveled , there would be no sweet salvation for the married couple . “Well , I want to say something.” Andy whispered a silent “go on” as one of their housekeepers wiped off him some of the pasta’s sauce . “I’m pregnant .” the brunette almost choked at the hear , she couldn’t be . “What ?” voice so small , the trait of vulnerability showing .

The fraction made his stomach toss and turn with anticipation, his dreams for the unknown slowly falling apart . “I’m pregnant on the 3rd month .” eyes infested with fury , the blue like sea color dissipated. “And when were you planning on telling me , hm ? When the waters would broke ? Or when the bump would start to show ? Or when you couldn’t fucking miscarriage?” his excessive, painful words ventured to withhold her insurmountable fury . Unceremoniously, his unbeatable character almost took back his sharp words , the marvel Mariah always waited for could intervene their scold and corrupt his grudge . Albeit she had cried and prayed for that baby to come , her husband didn’t yearn it .

“Did you talk to the gynecologist? Can you ?” he stated chastely , reclining his tensed back to the chair . Who could envision Andy Dolan with a child ? The reluctance became vexing , the tension had to be dwindled if she wanted to keep that inexcusable -for him- child . “Yes . We ... discussed and he said that I cannot ... get rid of it .” her unconvincingly words passed from the one ear to the other . He abruptly threw his crystal glass at the respective wall , agitating the woman to run to clean the mess . The hot , ambiguous tears wetting her cheeks . “Cant you just love me ?” she mumbled , her fasty movements elicited a cut from the sharp glass . She hissed at the pain , she wanted to resemble the perfect , sincere , housewife Andy pleased . To conquer the theme , so as to stand next to him with all her lucid pride while clutching his right hand .

And the things became even worse , chaos consuming the island , darkness drowning the residents . But the worst was Andy’s behavior shift . The unintelligible man faltered and his intriguing about his serene family faded , woefully leaving only his malice and possession . Fighting with his own demons , his rigid and virile facade came and ended up resented . The 24-hour absence of the paternal figure made the child cope with egregious insults and quarrels . Curling up in her little bed , her hands covering the ears as not to listen his beloved parents . Was her the reason they fought every night ? And as the family withered , Andy prepared to hit with sweet and sour vengeance .

“Please ...” the woman begged , the tears blocking her already blurry vision . Fatigue in her system degenerating, she tried to refrain this , but Dolan’s wrath could not be avoided . “Please what , hm ? You had a fucking debt ! Look after that damned child . And I swear to god Mariah ^ if something had happened to my daughter!” he scolded . “Oh come on ! Stop acting like you care ! You never did ... you never cared about your family .” His intimidating methods would usually work , and if not he would try for the vicious skin-to-skin contact . Slapping her and looking her terribly weak silhouette, squirming and crying under him . She remained frigid , not wanting to get that answer , Mariah ran to the basement , advancing around the marble halls like a lost puppy . Andy rubbed his stressed temple , waiting for his own kind of wonder to come and take him from this type of hell . The paradise where demons are hidden .

Andy never wanted to become one of them. That vicious, hungry, creatures . Demons . The olds said that if somebody approached the North river he would see a little red creature . A graceful , gorgeous demon . That was bullshit , demons didn't exist , his friend Michael had told him , that poor man - he had taken the subject of claiming to be the Antichrist of the end times too thick . He ended up at an asylum - good man , sick brain . “What are you thinking ?” . God , or whoever , heard him sent him his guardian angel . The nifty woman was everything he wished for . A real living angel . And that chaste, naive flirt shifted into this; whatever that was.

“Nothing to be honest . But let’s not talk about me , hmmm ?” the girl nodded heartily . Y/N had found her person , the one she could trust and never receive betrayal , the one she could cry at and talk about her insurmountable problems . Their meeting was casual - one , two drinks exchanged , some additional winks and the saccharine act of sex to help Y/N realize her feelings. When she was with him , the blithe and sybarite feeling would bloom inside her , becoming as beautiful as a sanguine rose . She chuckled at his works , could describe him as selfless ? No . But to her ... yes . Her despondent self hid his abusive and possessive persona . For her eyes and only , Andy Dolan was a god , innocent and perfect . “I wanted to ask about ... the divorce ? When are you two signing it ?” he had to be astute and answer handily . But they answer was always the same “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry . Mariah is a bit pertinacious but I’ll persuade her , okay ?” and she would fall at the trap , again .

“You’re always answering the same !” maybe today she would revolt and fortunately leave the poisonous love of Andy’s . His eyes shone dangerously, he didn’t want to do this . “Y/N’s not like Mariah” he would remind himself , but the poor girl was sticking her nose almost everywhere . “Aren’t you pleased , hm ? I took you from that fucking clinic , I helped you withdraw and this is your thank you ? I’m disappointed in you , Y/N .” his esoteric character on sight again . His cogent and invidious words caused the sentient girl spill the salty water . The male disdaining to help or comfort . “You deserve this anyway .” she stumbled back , her apprehension increasing whilst seeing him standing up from the bed . That absurdity had to stop , but he had saved her and it was her time now .

As Andy returned home , and the futile try to persuade his wife about the divorce exhausted him , he found himself at his daughter’s room . Observing her sincere and innocent moves . “Daddy ?” “Yes , Baby ?” his far-fetched sweet talk made the two smile in sync . The blonde’s smile making daddy crack . “Can I tell you something?” Andy nodded , hoping the child wouldn’t have read any of his recreational messages . “Mommy told me the reason she doesn’t want you two to break up !” his eyes lit up at her appendix . Perhaps it was the money or the child but anyway - Andy had to know . “What’s that ?” patting his lap for the girl to sit , Hera made herself comfortable at the warmth of his legs . “She said that she won’t let you fool around with every individual who has two holess.” “She said what ?!?!” “Yes , yes but what did she mean when she said “every individual with two holes .” ?” “Not now , Hera .” he quickly placed the kid down , as she sulked at her daddy’s extraordinary behavior.

By the time Andy stated the predicament , Mariah had ruminated on her terms . She should have said this , fuck she really shouldn’t . Her dull and attention-seeking words pushed her husband’s last buttons . “Are you fucking braindead ? What was that you said to my daughter ?!” she knew where that debate would end up . Condescendingly , she wrapped her arms around his neck . Her touch-starved grating amusing his carnal urges . Not wanting to dwell on the situation , Andy let it happen . Her amorous posture , the well-med hair , how didn’t he feel it coming ? Her hands traveling at his shirt’s buttons while Andy’s fingers went for her top . Discarded clothing were soon decorating the floor of their kitchen . His greed for more would eat him up one day . And he waited - patiently and calmly for that day . Her tenuous dominance caused waking up his boredom. But his prurient mind , thought otherwise.

She licked his upper lip , Andy letting her tongue slip into his mouth . The sloppy kiss turning into something more passionate, more loving . “I’ve missed this .” she mumbled in between breaths , making a smirk plaster on Dolan’s face . “I’ve missed you .” he hushed her by kissing her , the loving , lingering kiss making butterflies fly in her stomach . “Andy ?” he groaned at the call , not wanting to eye roll , he approved the question and motivated to go on . “Do you love me ?” “Yes. Only you . And no one else . I know things are hard right now but I’ll make it up to you.”

Bare bodies tangled . Two bodies in one . His hips snapped viciously at hers , hand grabbing a harmful fist of hair . Abruptly pulling it back , making Mariah hiss at the sudden contact of pain . The persona she would only see , not even Y/N , the sadistic one . Her head touching his sweaty torso , the tears in her eyes strengthening his stamina . The coil in her stomach tightened and as the loved noticed it - his hands traveled between her puffy lips , toying with her little bud . “I’m .... im-” her muffled cries interrupting her . “I know baby . Cum , cum with me .” and the coil in her belly broke synchronized with his . The addicting feeling of euphoria engulfing them both . “You did so well .” his sugary words causing her pride to rise , awaking her love for him . Just like the old times . “I love you , Mariah .” she perched at his tight embrace , inhaling his intoxicating scent . “Mhm me too .” she had to savor the moment . Mariah didn’t know what could possibly find her tomorrow .

////////////////

And as Andy distanced himself from Y/N, he kept his promise and made up the tangle. At least everything that could be fixed . The insuperable bond they created was ineffable. The somnolent love , almost dead , rose back from the dead . His pernicious and arcane self opened at his therapist . The Dolans couldn’t be happier . Apathy no longer lived between them . No invidious implication wafting around the tensed atmosphere. Just some more scarce , anticipated details and Dolan would finally fall into blithely.

Andy planted the usual good morning kiss on his wife . Excusing himself for his aimless absence on lunch and venturing to the car . The fraction of 2 to months without seeing Y/N, made him tacit. Where was the power Dolan’s hold ? He couldn’t falter, not now. He would withhold and keep things conservative. His conscience screamed no , but he shut it off , not wanting to trust his instincts . Choosing the obliviousness.

Approaching her modern like house , the cars of topical police confused his comprehension. Incompetent to walk inside , albeit he promised not to care - a part which was got circumvented - some of his worry remained to Y/N . “Officer , is she okay ?” the concern in his eyes made the blue - dressed man doubt his accusation . “Sir , are you Mr.Dolan ?” the man let his white scribbling block down , paying full attention to the brunette . “In the flesh .” two more patrols approaching, no feeling of timidity in their eyes . His envision had to be mendacious . A prosaic one , more realistic. “Andy Dolan you are arrested for the murder of Y/N Y/L/N” his conception blurred, everything changing into automatic. His eyes caught the figure of his wife talking to another police man - she wouldn’t? Would she ?

Everything happened so quickly, the metal handcuffs were clutched onto his hand, the ignominious state making him sentient. He would go to prison and there was no denial in that . At least he would leave Eden .

/////////////// Now \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He had learnt the news . Mariah was in all this . She had been informed about Andy’s illegal affair , not only with women but with drugs , too . On the one side, she had managed to plan her husband’s perfect suicide but the contradiction she received made her tentative. Therefore she visited the professionals . Sherlock’s beneficial - for both Mariah and him- and handily trap got Dolan arrested . They had planned everything, even the littlest detail . The plan was easy , yet complicated.

He would wake up at 7:15 a.m. as always . Head to the kitchen to make his morning coffee , catch up with Mariah who would accidentally leave the house . His phone would remind him about his last meeting with Y/N , where she would end up thing with him . Or what Mariah had decided to do for her . Y/N had left the island months ago when Mrs.Dolan appeared in her house and threatened to kill her and her soon-to-be-born child. As Andy would drive his way , Sherlock would leave his fingerprint everywhere , placing them carefully at the edges of the gun . Next step would be Y/N’s doppelgänger, nice and murdered next to the white rug .

-

The unbearable route of the dull prison . The thousand of men behind the metal bars , hungry for every kind of fight and sexual intercourse nettled his every atom . Compelling himself not to communicate with anyone , Andy , who had received a life imprisonment lost and the last bit of faith . There was no salvation for him , it never existed . “You have a letter .” the word taking him out of his dwelling thoughts. His family never sent him letters , not that they were coming . Drugs were forbidden, or that was the law applied . “Sender ?” “Unknown .” Andy wasn’t in the mood for playing games . This almost one years in prison erased all of his lenient future. Additionally, alleviating his last mendacious fantasies about life .

Taking the rigid piece of paper , the handwriting of a woman caught his attention . Refraining himself from toring it apart and throwing it to the trash can , he want for abstinence. Cutting the edges with a small knife which used to hide right down his pillow , the form a photo fall on the floor . Inhaling a piece of pure reluctance , Andy took the shiny piece of paper between his hands . The silhouettes of two girls laughing at each other quirked his eye brow . But her ineffable and disheveled beauty stopped his breath . A baby adjoining her side , made him caught the implication . The transparent eligibility to join this family causing him to incandescent. That was his child and his Y/N .

Last thing , eyes traveling at the bottom of the photo

- SHOT WITH NIKON 456 | 6/4/2021 | 7:56 p.m.

And they were alive .

////////////////////////////////////////

Tag list ; @ferndolan @brooklinn13 @lavenderahs @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

If anyone wants to be removed or added just say it lol

[idontknowwhattodoherelmfao]

Deja Vu

Bakugo x fem!Black!reader

Word count; 9.06k

Character count; 40.93k

Genre: Smut

Warnings; AGED UP AU! Everyone is in their 3rd . NSFW, oral (Bakugo receiving), choking, hair-pulling, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (Don't worry, you're on the pill), aftercare, swearing, light degradation.

A/n; Hello, welcome to my first FINISHED fanfiction. I have a LOT of WIPs saved but I actually finished this one a while ago. I have been really insecure about my writing but after sharing me of it with my sister and my friend, they convinced me to at least try and share it with the people of tumblr. Also, I deeply apologize for any mistakes because most of my fanfiction is written really late at night when i simply cant sleep or a good idea pops in my head so I can barely see my keyboard and my brain is fuzzy. Well, I hope you enjoy and I encourage you to request suggest anything such as headcanons, scenarios or just anything really. Again I hope you enjoy babes.

You. step inside your classroom, ready to start your journey of being a hero. Yet, you're imediantly struck by chaos. "That is extremely disrespectful Bakugo!" "Shut up, you damn extra! Not this again!" "Woah! I'm getting serious deja vu! It's like 1st year all over again!" You just stare in silence. No one pays attention to you until one person looks at you, then another. Soon, everyone is staring at you. "It's chaotic in here, huh?" You chuckle nervously. "Yeah, but it's mostly this guy's fault." A yellow-haired boy points to someone sitting weirdly. "Yeah right! Shut up!" The ash-blonde-haired boy yells. After, his crimson eyes stare at you, piercing your soul. "Well, lookin' forward to this year." You laugh. A cotton-candy girl comes up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. "Yep! A lot of stuff happens, but it's really fun nonetheless!" She exlaims enthusiastically. "So, you're the new kid?" She points for your answer. "I'm (Y/n)! I look forward to this year with you." You wave to everyone. Suddenly, your smile falls and your face goes dead-serious. Everyone's expression melts into concern and nervousness. "Now, everyone tell me your names from seating order, from the back left corner to the front right corner!" You command. Surprisingly, everyone obey's, telling you their name. Well, except for 1 person. "I don't have to tell you shit." The same ash-blonde boy states. "I'm surprised everyone else did tell me. Haha! I was totally playing!" You laugh. You walk over to the boy. "Hey, you got spunk. What is your name?" You ask. Crimson eyes soften a little at the surprise, but they quickly turn cold again. "What are you, deaf? I said, I'm not speaking, extra." He huffs. A spiky red-haired boy puts a hand on your back. "He's Bakugo Katsuki. Don't mind him, he's a little hot-headed." He chuckles nervously. "Don't speak for me!" Bakugo yells. "I gotta say, your mom must be psycic or something. Your name totally matches your personality." You scoff. "You just got here. Enlighten me, what do you think my personality is?" He grins smugly. You scoff again, matching his grin. "Well, when you act like that, it's easy to tell, so don't get cocky. You're obviously really strong, which is why you have the right to brag and show off and all of that." You explain. "Are you insulting him or praising him?" Denki says. "Why can't it be both? Praise and respect for being like this, but at the same time, damn bro." you sit down in the nearest chair, which conveniently is your assigned seat. He scoffs and looks away. "What do you know." He mumbles. You cup your face in your hand to look at him. "Aw, don't get grumpy. I'll feel bad." You fake-whine. "I'm not grumpy! And even if I was, if that were to be enough to make you feel bad, maybe you shouldn't be a hero!" He yells. "Hm. You do know that I was joking right? Well, for the most part anyways. I would feel bad, but if this was a real life situation, trust me. I wouldn't feel nearly bad enough to disobey something for you. So don't worry, ya got nothin' to worry about." You pull your bottom eyelid down teasingly. "Shut the hell up." He grumbles. You comply, as the homeroom teacher comes into the class. You cross your legs into the chair, and you see Iida eyeing you from across the room. His eyes shift to beside you, where you see Bakugo doing the exact same thing. His eyes dart to you, as you quickly undo your feet and rest your head on your chair and let out a heavy sigh. "You do that too?" You look at him. "Copycat." He mutters. "Am not. I always sit like this." You whisper-yell. "Yeah right. You tryna be some kinda wannabe rebel or something?" He chuckles. "Rebel? Now, you just pulled that out your ass, didn't ya?" You ask. "No. You're clearly tryna be disrespectful. It's not a good look for you." He smirks. "Doin' this is disrespectful? Since when? It's always been cute to me." You huff. "Are you forein or something, or are you just a dumbass?" He turns his head to you. "Not exactly foreign, but I spent a generous amount of my life in America. I did this all the time there,

it's not counted as disrespectful, in fact people find it rather cute, so what's your excuse?" You put your hand down. He looks away from you. "Thought so, wannabe rebel." You chuckle. The rest of class is normal, and soon enough, the school lunch bell rings. "Hey, mr teach?" You raise your hand while everyone leaves. Well, except for Bakugo, Mina, Kirishima, and Denki because they were being disrespectful and talking during the lesson. You were wondering why Bakugo was caught and not you. For punishment, the disrespectful students had to pack up chairs and sweep the classroom. "Yes, (L/n)?" The teacher responds. "In a normal highschool, we're allowed to leave campus during lunch. Does that apply here?" You ask, looking around. "Yes, you're allowed to leave at any time as long as you fill out a leave campus paper. They're in the teacher's lounge." He points to the door "Go left, at the first turn, turn left, and 3rd door on your right." he explains. "I don't know if i'm leaving, I was just askin'." You say. "Hm, I dunno. Hm." You put a finger to your chin in thoght. "Hey! I'm heling you guys now!" You point to Bakugo, Mina, Denki, and Kirishima. They all give you s confused look. "What? Why would you wanna do this?" Kirishima asks. "Maybe she's a bit weird in the head. Hehe, our first crazy person. Just the icing on the cake, huh?" Denki jokes. "I'm not crazy, just bored." You pick up a broom. "Yeah, I think she's a bit crazy." Mina whispers. "Heard that."  You roll your eyes. "Why're you bein' so quiet, wannabe rebel?" You cock an eyebrow. "Don't call me that!" He yells while raising his fist. "You called me that first." you scoff. "Exactly my point. Who calls someone something they called them first?" He says. "Hm, maybe I can be a trendsetter." You give him a smug smile before sweeping some of the dirt on the floor. Suddenly, Bakugo starts yelling. "You idiots! You're doing this all wrong!" He screams.  He points to Denki. "Where the hell are you sweeping, the wall!?" He points to Kirishima "Stop staring into space!" He points to Mina. "And you're not doing anything! When was this a time for music!?" Mina was drumming her hands on a desk while humming. He pointed to you. "And you're-" He stops midsentence. You lean on your broom. "Go on, what am I doing?" Your face looks serious, but he can tell you're fighting your smile. The corners of your mouth twitch as his cheeks turn a very subtle pink, but you picked it up. "Mhm. too bad for you, I don't get caught lacking." You say sing-songy. "Y'know, if you're so serious about cleaning this place, why don't you do it?" Denki suggests. "Well, you're all punished, so I don't think ya'll can just leave." You laugh. "Maybe we can if someone takes over our spots. Ah? Ah?" Denki nudges your shoulder. "Maybe you're right.." Denki's eyes light up, and everyone looks to you. "It would be faster if you were gone, pea-brain." You sneer. "I mean, I'm happy you'd let me leave, but c'mon! Pea-brain?" You laugh, along with Mina and Kirishima. "How mean!" Kirishima says through fighting snickers. "Haha! It's totally true though!" Mina, on the other hand is guffawing and holding her sides. "Your grades are jsut as bad!" Bakugo yells. "Dang, am I just surrounded by idiots? Studying isn't really that hard." You shrug. "Oh please! How good are your grade!?" She points and huffs. "Me? Eh, not half bad if I do say so myself. Usually above average, but math and history is always a struggle. But at least I can manage to have an A average." You shrug. "A...average!?" Mina dramatically throws herself back. "Yeah. If you guys put some sort of effort into your grades, you'd be the same way." You explain. "Shut up, we need to get this done and over with, you trying to keep us here all day and night!?" Bakugo yells. "My thoughts exactly. Great minds think alike I guess." you roll your eyes and begin sweeping again, glaring at Denki and taking his broom. "Hey!" He says, at your snatch. "Honestly, at this point you're just stalling." "Do something useful for once." Bakugo adds. "Jeez, when did you

become so mean?" He walks away. "I became mean when someone pissed me off." You reply. "What did I do?" He raises his voice a little. "Not much, I don't even really know why I'm kinda pissed at you. Maybe it's your piss hair." Mina points and laughs again. "Everyone here is mean to me." He whines. "Let's hurry up and get this oevr with, I'm getting bored again." you start sweeping a bit faster. "If you're bored, why dont you just leave? No one's stopping you." Bakugo says. "Eh, I dunno, just don't wanna leave I guess." You shrug. "You'd really just rather just stay here and clean? You're pretty weird.." Mina groans. "Hey, you're witnessing a rare sight. I don't really get bored often." You chuckle, and sweep the dust and dirt into Bakugo's pile. "You've been silent, wannabe rebel." You tilt your head in front of his face. "I said stop calling me that, dumbass. You must be deaf." He says. "You got all this talk but you're not doing anything. Try insuliting me when you prove you can do something better than me." You spin around and continue sweeping. Mina and Kirishima are silent for a few minutes. "Hey, me and Kirishima are done, we're gonna dip." Mina finally speaks. Kirishima nods. "Ugh, can I go? (Y/n)'s not letting me do anything!" Denki groans. "Because you do it wrong." You explain. "Yeah, we're gonna head to the cafeteria before they're out of Onigiri!" Mina exclaims. "Hope we're not too late." Kirishima rubs his stomache. "Haha! Good luck with being stukck with Bakugo (Y/n)!" Denki waves his hand and they all run out the room. "God, what did thet even do? Wiped an already clean table?" You scoff, sweeping some more while spinning a little. "Why are you here?" Bakugo questions. "And you're gonna call me deaf? I said because I was bored." You laugh, the noise echoing throughout the classroom. "Now, hurry up, I wanna get out of here." You continue sweeping again, but he stands still. "What now? You forget how to sweep? Here, like this." You slowly sweep, while laughing to yourself again. "Shut the hell up. If you wanna get out of here, why don't you? You like me or something?" He gives you the slyest grin as you growl. "No one else here likes you, why should I?" You copy his grin. "We've all been together since first year, you just got here. What do you know?" His grin fades as he sweeps. "Hey, what's your quirk?" You ask. "Huh? What the hell for?" He yells. "I wanna spar with you!" You beam. "Yeah, OkAy." He says sarcastically as he scoffs. "Tell me your quirk first." He says while sweeping. "Hm." You ponder. "Do you not know what your quirk's name is or something?" Bakugo looks at you, and stops sweeping. "No. My quirk is enhancement. I was just thinking if I should tell you or not." You respond, sweeping yourself. "Enhancement" Bakugo wonders." "Yeah, you know, I can make something or someone really strong, blah blah blah. What's yours?" You ask. "Explosion." He grumbles. "Explosion? Now we gotta spar! I know you're strong, so c'mon!" You say, putting the broom down. "..Fine, but pick your broom up! We're not sparring here, and in case you didn't know, I'm still punished." Bakugo grumbles. "Fine, let's hurry this up then. I don't know how much time of lunch is there." You look at the clock. "Usually, there's about a 50 minute lunch break, we've been out for about 20 or maybe 25. 30 at most." You do the math in your head. "You could have just took the time lunch ends and subtracted it by the amount of time you've been wasting here, extra." Bakugo grumbles. "Well, even if it was 30, we'd still have 20 minutes to spar! That's more than enough time for me to beat you!" You say. "I'll kill you." He grumbles, sweeping a bit faster. You join him, and the room is spotless in no time. "Hurry up!" Bakugo yells at you. "Don't yell at me!" You yell back, jogging after him. You end up at some clearing. Bakugo is stretching his arms and cracking his neck. "1, don't set any tree's on fire. 2.." He gives you a glare. "Hope you have another uniform packed." He smiles to wide his gums are showing. You are in shock a little, but

you smile too. "And same to you." You crack your knuckles. "Actually?" you stop. "What." bakugo stops himself as well. "This time, let's not use our quirks." you say. "Why? You scared that mine is better?" He laughs. "No no, nothing like that. It would be better to spar to better our physical skills first, then we can add quirks later." You say. "Alright, let's just get this over with." He rolls his neck. You both come at eachother at the same time, throwing punches, kicks, and blocking for what seems like forever. You see his hand start glowing, signaling he's about to make an explosion. Most likely to propel himelsef towards you, but still. You grab his wrist and hold it up. "Ah! I said no quirks and you agreed." you point to his hand, as the glow fades. Deku comes up to us, a bit shocked at the scene. "Uhm, lunch is over." He nervously says. Bakugo snatches his wrist back from you, and walks away, sucking his teeth. "This isn't over." He brushes past Deku, who immediantly turns back to you. "Hey, were you fighting?" The green-haired boy rushes over. "Yeah, we were." you shrug. "Are you hurt?" He asks. "Why aren't you asking Bakugo this stuff?" You ask. "He was bullying you, right? I can't believe you stepped up to him though-" Your erupting laughter interrupts him. "A-are you okay!?" He waves his hands. "Oh my god! You thought he was bullying me? I came up with the idea of sparring!" You gasp for air. "You were just sparring?" Deku asks for clarification. "Yeah, didn't you notice he wasn't using his quirk? Well, until the very end, but I stopped him." You catch your breath. "O-oh. i'm sorry I misunderstood." You slap him on the back. "It's all good, it's not your fault Bakugo just gives off that vibe! Welp! Time for class, right?" You begin marching towards the forest, Deku nodding and following suit. While you're walking to class, you replay the sparring match in your head. Your brain stops at one scene, when you grabbed his wrist. You didn't see it before, but now that it's replaying, you see his eyes in your small vision. They were softened, but hostile. You giggle at the thought, to which Deku notices. "What are you laughing about?" He asks. "Just how you thought Bakugo was bullying me." You run in front of him, hoping to catch up to Bakugo. "Hey, Bakugo!" You yell for him, he stops and turns around. "What?" He grumps. "When are we gonna spar next? You said it wasn't over." you explain. "After school, what'd you think I meant, dumbass." Bakugo says. "I thought you meant the same time tomarrow or something, don't get your panties in a bunch." You playfully push him. "Should we reschedule that sparring match to right now?" Bakugo growls. "I dunno, I feel up to another round. This time I'm gonna kick your ass." You smirk. "I'll win in a second. Because next time we spar, we're doing quirks and all." He scoffs. "Now now, didn't you hear the phrase the cockiness killed the cat?" You tease. "I'm not cocky, I just know I'm gonna win." He shrugs. "Mhm, I admire the confidence, but it's just gonna be hilarious when I beat you at this point." You snicker at the thought of his face. "Well, get that thought out of your head because it's not happening." Bakugo lightly smacks the back of your head. "Yes it is! But just because you think you're gonna win, don't try to go light on me!" You point at him. He swats your hand away. "Calm down, I wouldn't dream of it. What made you think I would?" He asks. "You seem like those type of people that would 'pkay with their food' when their prey is especially weak." You say. "Well, that's just inefficient. I'm pretty sure we're late, so hurry your ass up!" He yells as he walks faster. "I could use my quirk and we'd be there in a second." You suggest. "What's your stupid quirk gonna do?" He asks. "Enhancement. I could enhance our legs to make us walk or run faster. But, you'd probably crash into a wall at the sudden change of speed. But I could totally carry you!" You beam. "I'm not getting carried." He walks up the stairs. "Would you rather me drag you by the shirt?" You suggest

jokingly. "No, I'm walking myself. I don't need your help to walk to my damn classroom." He says. "Fine, then I will too. It'll look like i'm showing off if i use my quirk without you." You huff. "DO you see anyone here? No one gives a shit if your showing off." Bakugo says. "Well, I'm not budging, but let's hurry up." You say. "Don't tell me what to do!" He yells after you. When you enter class, surprisingly enough, the teacher's not there. "Lucky ducks! Where were you?" Mina says. "WEre you really sweeping all lunch?" Denki asks afterwards. "We w-" "Well anyways!" Mina interrupts. "I'm totally having a party at Yamomo's! I just need a theme or kind of party. Should it be a rave, or maybe a dance battle!" Mina beams. "How're you gonna throw a party if you don't know what it's gonna be?" You ask. "Well, I don't even know if I'm gonna have it at Yamomo's, but most likely, I will. Maybe I can find an abandoned warehouse instead!" She beams. "Maybe we could have some kind of boxing match like how (y/n) and Bakugo were sparring!" Ochako suggests. "No way, Bakugo would beat everyone in a heartbeat, so there'd be no surprise." Denki objects. "Why don't we have some sort of nightclub vibe?" You suggest. "That's perfect! A nightclub! Purple lights, a dj, it'll be PERFECT! You're a GENIUS (y/n)!" Mina swings her arms around you and squeals. "It just came to mind when I thought of a party." You explain. "Okay! I have everything under control! I'll text you the place and time! I'll set up everything!" Mina shreiks. "You sure you can set up a party by yourself?" Kirishima asks. "I got connections. Leave it to me!" She shows a thumbs up. "Hey (Y/n)! I never got your number. Wouldn't want you not coming." She gives you her phone and you type your number in. She texts you a thumbs up for comfirmation. "Okay class, settle down." The math teacher walks in. "Took him long enough" you mutter. The school day goes by easily, and before you know it, the end of the day bell is sounding. "Hey, Bakugo. Are we really gonna spar now? What if we get the text for Mina's party in the middle of it?" You ask. "Knowing her, it probably won't be till late, to 'set the mood'." He turns off his phone and shoves it in his pocket. "We got time." He walks in front of you down the stairs. "Well, okay. The dorms are this way, right?" You point to a nearvy building. "Yeah, but why're you going there?" Bakugo asks.  "This is my chance to change into more comfortable clothes for better mobility. Also, my only spare uniform might not be able to fit me after the party." You joke.  "You should take this oppertunity too." You suggest as you walk in. After you change, you walk back out, Bakugo's leaning on the side of the building. "Geez, what took you so long?" Bakugo groans. "You just change fast." You stick your tongue out. "And you did your hair?" He scoffs. "Yeah? You didn't?" You say sarcastically. "No winder you took so long, it's like you planned this outfit." He sucks his teeth. "Are you gonna stop staring at my clothes and fight me or what?" You crack your knuckles once more. "Quirks this time, remember?" Bakugo clarifies. "Hell yeah. Wanna time your loss?" You laugh. "Shut up." He grumbles. Suddenly, he's infront of you, his hand glowing. You block, and stumble back a little. "Geez, that was dirty!" You say. "All's fair in fighting and fighting." He chuckles. "Ugh." You groan, as you speed towards him, throwing an enhanced punch at his blocked face. The fight continues on forever, taking small water breaks and continuing. Bakugo is appalled at your raw strength, only helped with your enhancement quirk.  You chug your water, noticing his mixed expression of shock, and exhaust. "What time is it?" You check your phone, the time being 10 o'clock. "Damn, we've been sparring for 5 hours? No wonder my muscles are so sore." You stretch your arms a little. Suddenly, yours and Bakugo's phones go off at the same time. "Seems like Mina's got the time and place. I didn't think she was gonna go through with it." You say. "Well, that's that extra for you." Bakugo shoves

his phone in his pocket. "The party is in 2 hours, and you take forever to change apparently so I suggest you get started now." He growls. "What about..? Fine." You give up. Mina and Momo arrive at your dorm. "OH. My. GOD!" Mina squeals. "What is it? And aren't you supposed to be at the party?" You ask. "I went shopping with Yamomo for...your dress~!" Mina says sing-songy. "She picked it out." Momo hands you the dress, covered in a bag. "Uh, you didn't have to do this." You scratch the back of your head. "You're the new kid, so we wanted to help you get ready!" Mina beams. "Go on, try it on! I think it'll look great on you now that I'm getting a good look of you." Momo says, a finger to her chin. "Fine. Come in, sorry it's a bit messy." You say, walking towards your bathroom. "Don't forget to take a shower, you smell sweaty!" Mina teases. "And how do you call this dirty? One outfit is on the floor?" Mina picks it up and puts it in the hamper. You feel like a completely new person in the shower, washing away your sweat, filth, and problems. You also wash your hair, remembering you forgot to do it last week. You get out and reveal the dress, your eyes widening at the red beauty. You try it on and look in the mirror. "Uhm," You call out to Mina and Momo. "Is this really what you're supposed to wear to a nightclub?" You ask, steppinf out of the bathroom. Mina and Momo gasp at your appearance in the dress. "Oh my god! Yes!" Mina rushes over, examinging you from every angle. "Is that the answer to my question? Aren't you supposed to dance at a nightclub?" You ask. "Yeah. You aren't just wearing the dress. Don't worry, you'll be able to dance the night away." Mina reassures you. "You sure? It's a bit tight." You tug at it around your thighs. "It's not tight, it's just...y'know, like a pencil skirt. it's just fitting." Mina explains. "I don't think pencil skirts are made for dancing." You laugh. "Well, I'm probably not gonna dance anyways. And if i did, I'm probably not gonna be breakdancing or anything, huh?" You chuckle. "That's the spirit." Mina gives you a thumbs up. "So, you said this wasn't the full outfit?" You sheepishly grin. "Yep! Don't worry, babe, just leave it to us." Mina smiles greatly and Momo gives a warm small smile. "Alright, but if you're gonna do my hair, be gentle." You tangle your fingers in your black sea of curls. "Don't worry, my head is sensitive too." She scratches her hair. Soon enough, you look like you had a full glow-up. Mina and Momo snapping pictures to put on their story, also taking photo's of eachother and themselves. "The party's at midnight, right?" You check your phone again. "Yeah, it's friday night so we don't have to worry about waking up early for school!" Mina says enthusiastically. "And since it's at one of my guest houses, we can even have a sleepover." Momo suggests. "C'mon, we wouldn't wanna be late." Mina says. "What are we even celebrating?" You ask. "Nothing. Sometimes, a party celebrating nothing is just what you need!" Mina says. "I...guess that makes sense..?" You laugh. You get in Momo's convertible, vibing as you pass the aux around. It feels like you've been in the car for such a short time, as you pull up to her guest house's driveway. You swear you can hear the music booming from where you were standing. You walk in, and are greeted with booming music, bright and dim lights, and decorations everywhere. "Tada!" Mina squeals. "How'd you do all this?" You gasp in awe. "I knew a guy." She says proudly. We hear another car pull up, and we greet the people coming one by one. "Wow, this party is amazing!" Kirishima looks around, getting lost in the crowd. At this point, people you didn't even know were arriving. You assumed Mina and  Momo's friends, and people the other classmates invited. Bakugo comes in and eyes you up and down. "Hm, I thought you wouldn't be here for another hour, slowpoke." He smirks. "Maybe you should higher your expectations then." You flash him a fake-mean look as you both walk to a wall. "Ha, just 2 hours ago we were fighting behind the dorms, and

now we're at a party." You laugh at the randomness. "I am actually surprised you were here before me though." He says with a phony shocked expression. You shove him playfully. "Well, guess I have Mina and Momo to thank for beating you. Maybe I should dedicate my trophy to them." You teasingly ponder aloud. His expression changed to a mix of irritation and laughter. Mina suddenly drags you away, to dance with her in the middle of the floor. At first you were embarrassed, but once you were feeling the beat, you forgot all about the people eyeing you and cheering you on. You were having a total blast, singing and dancing to the busting music. She said she mixed hers and Jirous playlist together, and you compliment their taste in music, and you and Mina begin dancing together. You and Mina stop, panting and laughing as she compliments your dancing skills. "I'm gonna get a drink." You point to the food and bevarages table and she nods. You walk through the crowd, hearing some cheers and compliments towards you, even some whistles. You drink some water, and lean on the wall watching as Mina continues dancing with Ochaco. Suddenly, you feel a yank and you're dragged away, and into a room. You hear the door slam as you're met with your back on a wall. You grunt on impact. Everything happened in a blur, so when you can focus your eyes again, You look around for a split second, realizing you're in some kind of office. But, you're met with fires of red. "Why the hell are you wearing that?" A booming familiar voice rings through your eardrums. "Bakugo? What do you mean?" You say, stunned that the words actually came out of your mouth. "I'll repeat myself just this once; Why the hell are you wearing that?" He says. You're absolutely shocked. "Well, you didn't seem to have a problem with it when you first saw me with it!" You say. "Well, that was before you decided to give everyone here a fucking 'show'!" His grip gets a little tighter on your shoulders. What? What did he mean by show? You weren't even paying attention to yourself or anyone else while you were dancing, did you really..? "W-well, even if I did, what's that got to do with you?" You recollect yourself. His grip on your shoulders tighten even more, making you groan a little. "If you were gonna do that, why the hell would you wear this?" He looks you up and down again. "I don't even know what I did, and it's not like I plan my dance moves!" Your voice raises a little. "You don't even know what you just did in front of everyone?" He looks shocked, not even the sightest bit irritated anymore. His grip seems to loosen and tighten at the same time. You get a little anxious, as he comes a little closer. "What do you see in your head when I say the word 'show' in the same context I just did?" He says. You gulp as you imagine it. "Yep, you just did that, in front of the whole class, plus others. It's pretty rich that you didn't even realize it though." Bakugo chuckles a little, but it quickly fades. "T-that's impossible, my body..can't do that." You try to huff, but you're too nervous to do a solid one. "How humble." He loosens his grip and backs away, making you breath deeper. But suddenly, one of his hands grabs your right thigh as he brings it up to his waist, and snakes his other hand onto your back, right above your butt. You're now pinned on the wall. "But you and I both at least have some idea of what this body of yours is capable of." He growls, his face just whispers away from yours. You take another deep breath, but it's more of a gasp. You lean your head up onto the wall, taking a deep gulp. Bakugo watches as the little bubble trails down your throat. "Well, if you really don't know.." He licks his lips as he watches another bubble travel downwards. "Want to find out?" He catches the third bubble, licking it. You snap your head in surprise as he gives you a teasing smirk. His left arm snakes down further, grabbing your ass as his right moves your thigh higher. Your head is spiraling, and you open your mouth to speak, but you're interrupted by an intruder of the

mouth. You couldn't help the moan from escaping as he tastes you, licking his lips afterward. Your lidded eyes meet his, but they quickly move down to his mouth, and then to his eyes again. "I'm just glad you aren't wearing lip gloss or lipstick." He mumbles, before giving you another tongue kiss. You wrap your left leg around his waist, as his right knee bends to touch you. He can feel your folds clench at his touch, which forces the smallest gasp from you. "If you only did that show for me, I wouldn't be pissed at you." He furrows his brows at you. "Why?" You manage to say. "You're that dense, huh? Maybe words won't go through your brain." His right hand leaves your thigh, and grabs some of your hair behind your head. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your mouth, open from your decreshending breaths. "So maybe this will." He licks the opening of your mouth, his tongue sliding in before turning it into a kiss. His mouth leaves yours just barely, before both of your tongues stick out, crashing onto eachother like waves, as your lips connect once again. These kisses were different, more passionate, including the unique sound they made compared to the others. When your lips disconnect as a finale, he unwraps your leg from his waist and lets go of your butt. His lidded eyes give you a (Not a command, but not a wish either, I couldn't find a word for it lmao.) as he sits down in the nearest chair, his right hand now cupping his face as he waits for you. You get a little shaky, but you oblige, moving towards him. You lower to your knees as he watches your thighs get thicker from the press of your lower legs. You move towards him more, as your hands go onto his knees. You erotically slide your hands up his thighs, as if you really were giving him a show on his own. Two index fingers dance towards the center of his pants, where a mountain stands. Bakugo lightly groans as he feels his pants getting more confined. Your hands lightly struggle at the tight button, but you manage to quickly undo it. Bakugo's large dick springs up at attention, precum almost dripping. You lean over it, and a few hairs cloud your vision. You tuck them behind you ear as you notice Bakugo's facial expression, seemingly annoyed. You put him to your mouth as you rub his tip with your index finger. He nods with a small groan, and you give his dick a small lick. You lick all of the sides at least once before sliding his dick into your mouth. You flatten your tongue as you fit more of his cock into your mouth, spilling a louder groan from Bakugo. Alas, your curls kept moving. They didn't exactly pose a problem to you, but the thick fingers that carded through your hair said otherwise. You stop to look at him. "Just wanted a view." His smirk grows. You continued, but using your tongue as it swirls around his tip. Bakugo's large hand clenched a handful of your hair, forcing you to take his dick. You moan at the slight pain and force. You rise your head to his tip, before stopping. His facial expression changes to confusion, which you take as your cue. You swiftly take as much of his dick as you can, and hold your head there. The shock forces a loud erotic moan from Bakugo, followed by curses, and his thick cum flowing into your mouth and onto your face, satisfying you.  Bakugo's covering his red face with his huge hand, panting along with you. "I...didn't expect that." Bakugo pants. "I...hah...said to...higher your expectations of me..didn't I?" You wipe your chin and lick your lips. "God, I should just face-fuck you right now." He exhales deeply, catching his breath. "Then why don't you?"  You ask. "Because as much as I'd love to shove this cock down your little throat, I also want to make you feel good." He uses a finger to lift up your chin, and close your mouth. You both stand up, and Bakugo lightly pushes you onto a table and stands over you, both of his arms by your sides, pinning you there. "I bet while you were giving your show out there, all the guys- hell, maybe even some of the girls- wanted to rip this dress off of you." Bakugo chuckles to

himself. "You said that your body couldn't do a show like that. Remember what I said? If you didn't know, wanna find out?" He recaps, and you nod. "Well? What's your answer to that?" He asks genuinly. You chuckle. "You're really gonna wait until you got your dick wet to ask me that? Psh, and you called me dense." Your chuckle erupts to a laugh. Bakugo clenches your hair again. "Just answer the damn question." He growls. "Yeah, I wanna find out." You reply confidently. He gives you a slightly surprised and confused look, to which you answer by swiping 2 fingers along his member. He lightly grabs your neck, forcing your head down onto the desk. A noise you didn't know you had in you echoes throughout the room. Even Bakugo's shocked by it, and he's the one who forced it out. But he quickly catches on. "Ah, somebody's got a little kink, huh?" His hand grabs your hair again roughly, a similar moan coming out as he lifts your head up and moves his mouth towards your ear. "You like to be fucked niiice and rough, don't you?" The low rumble in his voice makes you shiver. "You like to be teased, even though you act like you don't, huh?" He sneaks a touch at your folds through your panties. You lightly moan at the sudden act as your head moves upwards and your thighs clench together, as Bakugo's hand barely escapes your thighs crashing together. "You like...the pain with the pleasure, don't you?" He bites your ear before licking and peppering kisses onto it. Your breaths grow heavier as your body heats up. He continues with the teasing, forcing your legs open, putting his knee between your legs and carressing your inner thigh, and pressing onto your clit as he nibbles on your ear some more. He slips off shoes, then your pantyhose, and then your panties as his teases get harsher. Suddenly, two thick fingers of his slip between your velvety folds. You moan as your walls try to fend off the intruder, as he steadily pumps his fingers into you with rhythm. "God, you're so tight." He groans, as his dick twitches. Your breaths are still heavy, but more apparent. "Oh, god, fuck." Your head is thrown back onto the desk. Bakugo's firey eyes burn into yours. "This feels nice, doesn't it?" He says. You let out a whiny "Mhm." To which Bakugo chuckles. "It feels nice, sure, but I want to make you feel good, no, amazing, the best you've ever felt." His slides turn into thrusts as his fingers quicken their pace. "F-fuck." You moan grows long. You couldn't help but roll your hips and grab one of your breasts, trying to rush your release. "Ke-hah-ep going." You're barely able to keep those words together. "Now, don't rush yourself. I was gonna be the one to make you feel good." He hits just below the spot you've been longing for, and you can feel yourself coming close, just a little bit more. If that wasn't enough, he curls the tips of his fingers to hit your sweet spot, right on the money, and he can tell too, noticing how your body quivers and your eyes closed tightly. Suddenly, his fingers exit your folds. You give him a confused look, panted breaths taking over your words. "Sorry princess, but when you cum, I'm gonna be inside you." You watch as Bakugo seperates his fingers, watching as your slick webs between them. "Didn't think you could be this wet." Bakugo chuckles. Suddenly, he puts the two fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off. When his fingers leave his mouth, a string of slick falls from his mouth as well. You swallow at the sight. He gets up and grasps your neck, forcing your head down again, making the same noise, but slightly more lewd from the teasing. "Haha, you slut." He chuckles while exhaling deeply. He runs his hands down your frame, admiring your curves. He pumps himself a few times, reminding himself of how you just treated his dick. He grabs your thigh, observing how your flesh molded into his hand. He's moves his hand, but you catch his wrist. "Wait." You say, sitting up. He backs away with a confused look, and you stand up from the table. You stretch your arms a bit, but you suddenly push him, your enhancing quirk

making it powerful enough to crash him onto a couch. "Wha-" He has no time to react as he watches you push him again to lay him parrallel to the couch. He wasn't expecting this, and he couldn't deny the facts, it made his dick that much harder. It twitched at your boldness. You straddle him, lining his cock to your throbbing and oversensitive pussy. "Being bold, huh (Y/n)?" His confused open mouth grew into a smirk. "Mhm. Watch just how bold I can be.." you moan as his tip enters you, taking a bit before you bottom yourself out, your pussy swallowing him whole. Long moans exit both of your mouths, as you put your arms behind your back to support yourself as you slowly roll your hips, giving Bakugo a good view of you gushing onto his dick. "Fuck, you're even wetter and tighter than before." Bakugo says through groans and gritted teeth. You laugh breathily as you roll your hips rhythymically, beign engulfed in ecstacy. Suddenly, Bakugo's hand grasps your neck as he forces you down onto the couch, him now towering over you, his cock twitching inside of you. "B-bakugo." You moan. "You really are bold. But you're doing the opposite of what I said you'd do. Remember?" His grip tightens onto your neck, as you nod profusely. "Also, drop the last name. It's Katsuki. Got that?" He chuckles. "Katsuki." You repeat, thinking it sounds familiar. He sucks his teeth. "You're begging with your eyes, you slut." He begins thrusting into you, lifting one of your thighs with his free hand to drill deeper. His thrusts grew quick and harder quickly as he pounds into you, a gasp or moan coming out of you with each individual thrust. His hand around your neck just added to the pain and pleasure you felt. "K-katsuki!" You have a shaky smile with tears in your eyes. "What's wrong-fuck- too rough?" He tries to hide his pleasure as well, but it's getting harder for him as his dick slides perfectly, your walls adjusted to him instantly, as if it was waiting for his cock only. "Damn, it's like you were -shit- made for me." Expletives interrupt his sentences as he stops trying to hide his pleasure as his hips meet yours. His smile is the widest you've ever seen, showing his gums. He moves your other thigh up, allowing him to go even deeper. "K-katsuki..fuck!" Your moans seem to get breathier and a bit more highpitched. "Don't worry, I know where to go." He assures you, as he flawlessly hits your sweet spot, just like with his magical fingers. "Yes! Right there, fuuuck~!" You put your hands on his arm as his grip gets even tighter onto your neck, and as he ruthelessly abuses that spot, rubbing on it fast. Your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head as his pace gets even quicker. "Keep going, Katsuki, so close, so fucking close just keep going!" Your fingers don't know what to do as you try to grip the couch, your hair, but they stay at his shoulders, your fingernails digging into his skin only makes him pound harder. "Go ahead, cum on this dick, (Y/n)." He grunts loudly, feeling himself become undone as well. "It's...too good." All you can see is white as you reach your high, your back arching, your eyes completely into the back of your head, and your insides being painted white. His long erotic moan matched yours, as you panted and came down from your peaks simultaniously. While you were seeing white, however, you were getting visions, memories of stuff you didn't remember. It was you and Katsuki, as children, playing together, him coming to your house with his mom when you were little, and you playing competitive sports outside as your moms talked. You remembered everything from when you were little, and started questioning how you could forget. You also saw something else, you going away, when you moved to America. When you said goodbye to Katsuki, and shared a hug, that no one else was gonna get. "K-katsuki.." you pant, giving him a nostalgic look. "So, you've remembered." He chuckles through panted breaths. "Took ya long enough." He says. "Huh?" You give a confused look. "I wouldn't have sex with someone I just met hours ago. And knowing

you, you wouldn't either." He moves from on top of you, sitting down next to you. It sparked a question in your mind. Why did you have sex with him, if you didn't remember him? Maybe it was your subconcious that knew him. You yawn, now completely down from your high. "I gotta say, it was fun getting to know you all over again and play along." Katsuki laughs. "And your quirk improved dramatically. Remember when we were little, when my explosions were really small,  and you used to enhance my quirk to make explosions like I do now?" He recalls. "Yeah, I was probably the only one who you've ever complimented before." You lay your head on his lap. "Damn, you really spent me." You yawn as he takes his phone out, "Hell yeah I did." He sucks his teeth as he begins texting someone. "Who're you texting?" You say. "Just go to sleep, I'm texting Mina, the pink-haired chick you were twerking with in front of everyone." He says, his face going back to annoyed. "Geez man, I didn't know." You suck your teeth yourself. "Well, I got to fuck you, so I guess I can't stay mad." He shuts off his phone and pets your head. "We gotta get cleaned up, I'm not sleeping like this." He grumbles. "Sleep? Who said anything about that?" You tilt your head. "The way I did you tonight? Yeah, you're not gonna be able to go home." Bakugo laughs "What did you think I texted Mina about? I told her to send everyone home and that we're spending the night." He says. "Wouldn't you text Momo about-" You're interrupted by his phone chiming. He checks it and begins laughing. "Phaha! Guess what? We weren't the only ones fucking." He shows you his phone, and you see what he texted Mina first. "Why'd you just flat out tell her we had sex!?" You say, scrolling down to read he reply. "Psh, Todoroki and Momo? Even Deku and Ochaco?!" You laugh. "Yeah, I thought Deku would remain a virgin his whole life. Crazy, huh?" He chuckles. "Also, Mina been knew we woulda fucked. Look." He shows you another message. "Soooo tonights the night, huh😏? Use protection⛑️! Or don't, but no kids😤!" The message reads. You roll your eyes. "So everyone knew that we had history together but me, right?" You groan. "Pretty much." He laughs again. Suddenly, his phone chimes again. "OK, the guests r gone, all of the wasted temporary residents r all 🛀 ☝️ and 😴, ur turn. the 🛀 is nice and 🏃! i also brought a stretcher for (y/n) because i know she'll need it lmfaoo🚶" it reads. "Translation; the party people are gone, everyone else who fucked is washed up and asleep, so we can take our time." Bakugo sighs. "That extra does the damn most." He facepalms. "Wow, how reliable. But shouldn't we be asking Momo for permission to sleep here?" You ask, and your answer comes with another chime of his phone, the new message reading "i already asked and yamomo understood completely so the house is all urs 4 2nite. yw i know im the best😌" "Geez, she couldn't stand to use grammar every once in a while?" You laugh and roll your eyes. "C'mon." He stands up. You move to get up, but he ends up picking you up. "Wha-? Hey! Put me down!" You lightly hit his back. "Don't bother, you can't walk." He says. "Who says?" you grunt. "Fine, try." He puts you down on your feet gently, but you immediantly crash dwon onto your butt, which is also feeing sore from his tight ass-grabbing. He chuckles. "How come it took me to try standing up for my legs to start feeling sore?" You groan. "Told ya. It's not my fault you like it rough." He teases as he picks you up and slings you over his  shoulder. This time you don't fight, just making a pouty face and groaning from embarrassment and your sore legs. You lock eye contact as Mina patrols the main area. She uses body language to tell you she heard almost everything, and you shoot her a dirty look as she laughs and continues patrolling. You're surprised with a bath that's ready for you, courtesy of Mina. Maybe you can't stay too mad. He takes off your clothes and sets you in the bath, as you relax and rest your head on the could outer ring. Bakugo's eyes dart to your neck, dark

markings telling exactly where his hends went. It was like your own litte version of a hickey, which put a smile on his face. "Who knew you had a choking kink? that was a real surprise to me." He smiles meanly as you hide your face in embarrassment. "I didn't know." You groan in sheer embarrassment. "Relax, I won't be choking you gain anytime soon." He gumbles in slight annoyance. "But what if a villain does?" You ask. "Shit, I forgot about that. Haha! Just imagine that villains stupid face when you let out a moan because of him choking you." He chuckles. "Wouldn't you get jealous? Another man, maybe a woman, choking me?" You turn to face him. "Well, it's my job to beat their ass regardless so they're gonna end up dead anyways. 1, for being a villain, and 2, for putting their hands on my girl." He explains. You didn't need his hand, you almost choked on the word girl. "Yeah, I said it." He pours some shampoo in his hand, lathering them together and scrubbing your hair. "You gonna deny it?" He grumbles. "No, just didn't think you'd say it first." You admit. "Well, surprise surprise, I'm not the same kid I was back then." He sucks his teeth. "You kinda are. You always sucked your teeth like that and you have the samer personality if we're speaking vaguely." You explain. "Well, I changed a lot, idiot. What do you know?" He massages your head with his yet again, magical fingers. "I know that the only reason you're not yelling is because you're thinking of everyone sleeping. Funny, you weren't when you got a taste of me." You say matter-of-factly. "You always were a smartass. I don't even know why I ever liked you." He grumbles. "Yeah, that's probably gonna stay a mystery. I don't know why I like you either, you were always an annoyingly smart guy for yourself." You grumble as he rinses your hair and you wash yourself. Bakugo briefly leaves and comes back with an oversized t-shirt and underwear. You change into them while sitting on the toilet seat, and Bakugo's eyes widen a little as he comes to a realization. "Hey, that's my shirt! The bitch stole my shirt! How the hell'd she even get into my dorm!?" Bakugo yells. "I have my ways!" You can hear Mina call out to him. "God, she's lucky I'm tired." He groans as he scratches the back of his head. "And she's lucky that you look good in it." He smirks as he looks you up and down seductively. "What, round 2?" You ask. "No, I put all my energy into round 1." He sighs. "Good, so did I." You let out a big exhale. "Now your turn." You signal him to get in. "I'll wash myself, you're obviously in no condition to." Bakugo says. "I can." You huff. "Please, you'd have to crawl to get over here." He rolls his eyes. Your eyes drift to the sink as you see your favorite scent of lotion. You look to your knees, they were beginning to get ashy, so you grabbed the bottle and began applying it to your skin. Bakugo's watches as you massage your legs, like they weren't on fire now. He observed as your hands moved up and down your legs almost as a signal, and he actually started considering a round 2. He shook the thoughts out of his head as he washed himself quickly, and got out himself and changed. After brushing your teeth with the spare toothbrushes-Geez, Mina and Momo really thought of EVERYTHING, huh?- Bakugo carried you to your-of course she would- shared room. It wasn't until he was laying next to you, settling into bed, when the smell of your lotion hit him. Like a million bricks. He recognized it quickly, his favorite smell in the whole world. "Mmm." He hums as he brings you closer to him. "Is this..?" He asks. "It was just there. I know you like it," you said, teasing his nose with the smell. "Apple Spice." You say in unison. He hugs you, putting his nose in your shoulder as he inhales the smell deeply. "God, I haven't smelt this in so long. you used to wear it all the time when we were little." He sighs. "When I moved, I never stopped." You hug him back, snuggling into his chest. His breathing slowed, and you could tell he was about to fall asleep."(Y/n)...?" He sleepily says. His words

are slurred, and his eyes are closed. "Mm?" You hum, getting sleepy yourself. "I love you." He says, pulling you closer to him. The softest 'I love you' you've ever heard in your damn life. "I love you too." you replied softly. You thought that'd be the end, but Bakugo kept repeating it. "I love you so much, so fucking much, I love you." His repeats grew softer, as you repeated him the same amount of time he repeats himself. "So fucking much." are his last words before his breathing slows and silence follows you sigh of relief. "Finally, thought he'd never shut up." you laugh in your head, as you follow suit, saying a final 'I love you' be before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

Fin

[slashingdisneypasta]

Inkubus x Vampire!Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Always There

Notes:

I think outta all Englund's characters on this blog, I like writing for Inkubus the most. Which is criminal seeing as I write for him the least. I need to change that haha.

Plot: You meet up with a very old friend of yours and you spend some time catching up. And he's so clearly in love with you, its unbelievable and torturous to him that no matter what he does, you don't notice.

Warnings: A very unreliable narrator (In terms of particular other peoples clear feelings for her), BLOOD, DRINKING BLOOD, DRAINING SOMEONE OF BLOOD (But in a sort of polite way? Hah), MENTIONS OF AN ABUSIVE EX PARTNER, vampires and incubus'.

The smell of iron and petrichor fills your nostrils, disgusting and refreshing and also, just... relieving... in equal measure filling you up as you kneel by the victim - the man you'd chosen, - for tonight; A needle and tube attached to a blood bag between your fingers and digging into the poor mans neck.

You hate doing this, knowing this guy will be weak and sick feeling for the next day - maybe two depending on how much you take from him, - without understanding why. But, its for sure better then the alternative- which is just digging in right here and now with your teeth. That's messy, and the marks you leave behind aren't easy to explain away as 'animal attacks' anymore.

You need the blood, but you aren't a savage, jeez. You always catch any new vampire movies or shows together with your daughter and watch those actors with blood all over their chins, and think... How old are these vamps supposed to be?? 300 hundred years old!?

And they don't know how to eat without getting it all over their face?

Pfft! Rolling your eyes, you gently shake your head at the memories of bloody Edward Cullen and Lestat and Damon Salvetore swimming around in your head as watch the man's breathing. To be fair, you love them all - Twilight, Interview with a Vampire, The Vampire Diaries, Nosferatu, Vampires Vs the Bronx, etc, - but that's just because its more fiction then truth- and that's coming from an honest to goodness bloodsucker.

Finally deciding you've taken enough without truly hurting the man, you put pressure on his neck and pull out the needle, carefully wipe away any mess with a cotton ball from your bag and put a band aid on him.

"Now," You talk firmly, softly, as you look into his eyes - which are dull, almost sleeping. A nice touch to the docile state you put your victims, in so they can at least not feel any pain or fear while you're collecting your feed, - , hands on his shoulders. "You're not going to remember this, or me. You're going to get a taxi home," You tuck some money in his shirt pocket, a thank you for his service; Its the least you could do. "Then get into bed and have a wonderful sleep with lots of lovely dreams. Thank you so much."

After you watch the man get up, still in a bit of daze but shaking it off - and not even noticing your presence, crouched down by where he's standing, - and leave the alleyway, you carefully pack away the blood bag and the tube and needle (In a separate plastic bag, for you to clean and sanitise when you get home) in your satchel and finally get back up, wrapping the strap over your head and resting it on your shoulder.

Brushing a hand through your hair, you turn to leave the alleyway and go home- when a familiar voice speaks up from the very back of the alley- and immediately your hopes rise.

"You look even more beautiful every time I see you."

You smile, peering into the darkness. "Oh, that's very sweet... but you and I both know I look like trash. I haven't eaten for a week!" When he just chuckles back, you tilt your head and waive him over. "Come out here so I can see you!; When did you get into town?"

Gracefully - more so then even you can manage, being a goddamn vampire, - Inkubus slips out of the darkness and you're happy to see he looks well. Its been forever since you say him last - 40 years? 70? - and you always have it in the back of your head for some reason that next time you see your friend, it'll be the last time. So its always lovely when he turns up and looks just as healthy as he always does.

"Oh I just got here; Thought I would come see you immediately. Otherwise you might nag at me." This time you chuckle, rolling your eyes. His eyes flicker to your satchel. "Collecting our dinner our we?"

"Yep! Smells like A Negative, my favourite. When was the last time you ate?"

"Ohh, a couple weeks ago. I'm due for my next fill soon, though... any suggestions?"

"No," Scrunch up your nose, you put a lot of emphasis on your response; See, you don't subscribe to the notion that monsters like the two of you have to act all blasé and cocky about the terrible things they must do. Apart from these night time trips to find breathers to bleed, you live a... mostly... normal life! So no- you definitely don't know anyone he can make his next victim.

And Inkubus knows this, which is why he laughs and you roll your eyes again at him, fixing the satchel on your shoulder. "So- " Again his eyes flicker to your bag, this time with meaning. A cheeky grin flits across his lips. "Want to get a drink?"

Smiling, you turn on your heel, you loop your arm through his and lead the way. "So have you been?"

___TIME SKIP___

4 hours later and the two of you are still stewing at a 24-Hour-Diner you frequent - seeing as you don't really sleep that much, - and are onto your 9th drinks at this point. You two may not see each other too often since the 1400's and went your separate ways in the world, but you never go longer then a hundred years - preferably 80 maximum, - without seeing each other and when you do- you have a lot to say. Filling each other in on what you've missed in each others lives is always a... disorientating experience, at times, but you must do it. You couldn't survive in a world where you didn't know what was happening in your best friends life. That would just be too lonely.

See, Inkubus is the only one you know - still, to this day, - who knew you when you were human, aside from the man referred to very nearly exclusively as 'Dick for brains' - being your daughters father, - and while having human friends who can make you feel normal again, is wonderful... so is feeling normal, in what you actually are currently. And that's not human. That's thousands and thousands of years old and a mystery to scientists. And, seeing as he's a literal demon... that's a very easy service for him to provide.

A waitress walks by to pick up you empty glasses and looks oddly at your personal tumbler. You clearly weren't meant to notice, but you do of course, and unassumingly shrug. "Bloody Mary... don't tell." You give her a conspiratorial wink, and she chuckles, walking off.

When you look back to Inkubus, he looks ready to make a joke so you give him a timid shrug. "Well, there is vodka and Tobasco sauce in it!... " He smirks, but lets it go- seeing as your words were funny enough.

"And how is Bethany? Has she seen her father lately...?" Your eyebrows arch, hearing Inkubus ask about him; Dick for Brains, Beth's father and the bane of your long, long existence. Obviously, seeing as the bastard impregnated you with his literal spawn of hell causing you to die during childbirth at age 26 so he could then turn you into a vampire, made you raise your daughter alone- and then returned 20 years later just to turn Beth into a vampire as well and claim that you can all be a 'proper family now'... you aren't a huge fan of the guy. And talking about him you don't do often, as it causes a horrible clenching feeling in your stomach and heart. Luckily, Inkubus is one of the few people who is allowed to make you feel that way. Him, and Beth.

You sigh, taking a slow sip of your drink through the matching metal straw and metal tumbler set Beth got your last mothers day (So as to hide the fact that its blood inside), you wonder what to say... "Beth's great, as always... she's fallen in love with a human, though. That can only end brilliantly." Shaking your head, you look to Inkubus to see his reaction and catch him rolling his eyes, smirking. Yep. "Um, and... yes. There has been contact with Dick for Brains... He recently, like... 20 years ago? turned up at her place in Egypt, and wouldn't leave till I had to fly down there and shoo him away." You grit your teeth. There is so much wrong with that man- you do honestly with you had never met him sometimes. That's horrible, you know, as if you hadn't met him you wouldn't have had Beth and she's the light of your life, but... at times like that instance? When he troubles her?

Its hard to not wish his existence away.

"Do you want me to speak with him?... Again... ?" Your gaze returns to Inkubus again, feeling at ease the moment your minds back in the diner with him and not in your head with Dick for Brains; Eyes softening. The idea is tempting, unbelievably tempting... And it would keep your friend around awhile longer. "That always seems to win you a couple hundred years of reprieve."

Taking a deep, needless breath - an anxious habit, - you set down your tumbler and shake your head. "No, that's okay... thank you for the offer, though. He seems to be giving up, slowly, finally. But damn, its taken him long enough to get the hint, huh?"

"Far too long." Inkubus' voice is bitter and dark, talking about your ex- and his eyes are reading much different. You know if you let him, he would kill Derek... but you cant do that. If anyone's going to kill him, it would be you or Beth, and neither of you are there yet. Inkubus takes a deep breath, relaxing again like a chameleon changing its colours. "Anyway, love; Onto prettier business. How did that thing go, that you had with that Djinn half a century ago. You seemed quite optimistic about that one."

A fluttering of laughter immediately comes out of you and Inkubus' truly cheers up at the sight of it, and you just look at him and shake your head; An awkward toothless smile on your lips. Ha! No.

His brows arch, laughter in his eyes. "Didn't end well?"

"That ended up being the shortest affair I've ever had and that's saying something." Brushing hair back from your face, you chew on your bottom lip. "You'd think after nearly 10 centuries, I'd learn... Oh- wait- make that 10 and nearly a half, centuries... Boy, am I clueless."

"Clueless about what, love?" You're just breathing in to respond, when a cheeky look crosses Inkubus' familiar face. "I mean, you are quiet clueless- about plenty of things. But specifically, this time."

You scrunch up your nose at him in response, grinning, before once again chewing on your bottom lip. "... I'm just not the woman that gets proposed to." You shrug, as if its no big deal; Even though your heart bleeds saying it out loud for the first time, to someone that matters and not just your ex-therapist, Julie. Setting your drink on the table in front of you, you idlily twist it. "Obsessed over and stalked, yes." You grin, a tinge of sadness to it. "Fucked, yes. Dated even, yes. But married?... Ha, no... "

His eyebrows climb up his forehead even more, before he softly smiles and pats your hand. "I asked you to marry me, all those years ago, sweetheart. Remember?" He reminds you gently, and you cant help giving a soft smile back at your well-meaning friend.

"Oh, yes of course I do. That was very sweet, but... I mean for love, you know? Not because I'm pregnant and alone."

Inkubus sighs, slightly frustrated, and leans back in his seat. "Mhmmm... " Rubbing a finger under his nose, he quickly clears his throat. Then he reaches his hand further up your arm to lay it on your forearm, running his thumb comfortingly across your skin. "Love, I'm sure that you'll find someone. Perhaps multiple someone's. Or, maybe, you don't need to find anyone new."

A little smile twitches at your lips as you pick up his hands and hold it on the table in both of yours. "... Maybe." For a split millisecond, your friend smiles. Sighing wistfully, you shrug. "Maybe I can learn to be happy alone. I mean, I like my life. I like my daughter, I like my job, I like my patterns... Maybe I don't need a man." Immediately his smile disappears and he rolls his eyes.

"You definitely don't need a man." He sighs, frowning. "But one can be good for a few things, no?"

"Hey." You set him with a stern look. "I thought we were making me feel better, about not having one?"

"Oh, you're right. I rescind my comment."

"You better." A cheeky grin crosses your face.

He looks back at it, the cheeky grin of yours, and the smile returns to his face.

~

The sun is warming up when you're on your way home, Inkubus beside you with his arms folded carefully behind his his back and your hands stuffed in your leather jacket pockets; One arm linked affectionately through his. You're an odd sight, you're sure, to any early morning commuters. You, and your barely-out-of-college looking self walking so close - and so domestically. A fact that is lost on you but not on the smug demon walking beside you, - to a man that currently looks to be in his 60's-70's age-wise.

Not that either of you care.

"Well, this is my place! Whatdaya think?" You ask, letting him go in order to unlock the door or the townhouse apartment and push open the door. He walks on in past you, looking around and you watch a soft smile grace his handsome features. "You like it?"

"Much better then the hole in the wall you thought was a good idea to show me in Transylvania- took everything in me not to sweep you away somewhere safer... with fewer mould spores... " He turns to look at you over his shoulder, a mischievous smirk on his mouth as you scrunch up your nose at him, before smiling.

"Well then, Mr Judgmental... I guess you don't want to know, that I chose this wallpaper cuz of you."

That definitely catches his attention, more then anything else you've said. He turns around in a full 360, assessing the wallpaper before looking curiously at you. "You... you chose this wallpaper because of... me? How so?"

You shrug, still leaning back against the open front door- sunlight filtering through the doorway. "The colour is very you. Its got 'Inkubus' vibes. You know," Raising your brows at him, you smirk. "Eccentric, full of itself." At that cheeky remark, he says 'Ha ha', sarcastically. "And, I guess, I missed you. Sooo... yeah... wallpaper."

"Hm... " Looking really far too pleased about this, looking a lot more engrossed by the home then before- but mostly the wallpaper. "This place is looking better, suddenly... "

"Like I said- Full of itself." You roll your eyes, laughing. Then you push off the door, push it closed with your foot and then go to pass by Inkubus to hit the livingroom. "Oh! The book! The one we were talking about at the diner- I'll find it for you! Come on- "

"Y/N." A hand curls gently around your arm, at the perfect moment so that you don't get yanked back with the force of your travelling and instead you just coat to a careful halt at Inkubus' side.

Blinking up at him curiously, wondering what he needed you for so suddenly, you tilt your head to the side. "Yes?"

For a good moment, he just looks at you whilst you become worried. What is happening? Every second that passes by, more and more ridiculous ideas cross your mind.

Finally, the man tilts his head slightly in sincerity.

"Sweetheart, are you ever going to see how ridiculously in love with you I am?"

And... for all of the disastrous and ridiculous possibilities that came to mind when he was saying nothing, you had a response. To this, you just stand their dumbly, your shoulders dropping and just looking at him in total shock. "... wel- uh- um... a few more hundred years?" You feel like a ton of bricks has just been dropped on top of you. "Maybe?" You squeak. You actually squeak.

And of course, you squeaked. You'd be surprised if you had managed to keep your composure after a confession like that. Here's this beautiful man, who against all foreseeable odds understands you, and cares about your kid, and whom you love... and somehow he's telling you that he loves you? That, for some reason, he wants you?

Is there something wrong with him?

There must be. Something terribly, horrible, irreversibly offensive that you aren't already aware of.

But you rack your brain and theirs nothing. Nothing, at all, that you can figure that would make you turn away from him right now.

He smiles a little bit at your awkward reaction, and lets go of your wrist in favour of tucking some hair back behind your ear. "Do you quite mind if I kiss you now?"

Your breath hitches, it actually hitches, like a tiny shy anime girl who's giant crush just got down on his knees in front of her for whatever reason, and you have to fight to pull yourself together; Rolling your shoulders back, hands on your hips. Totally, and translucently fake confident. "Um- you know? I don't?"

God, you are a centuries old vampire; Your vernacular should be yards better then this.

And then kisses you.

Oh god- And then he kisses you.

Because you're suddenly struck hard in the face with a million words and phrases, from current to boomer-speak to old fashioned to forgotten, to describe it but mostly you're just wondering why in the world you hadn't been doing this the whole damn time. Your hands find the sides of his coat in order to steady yourself, and pull him closer as you carefully tilt your head into the kiss. It comes so naturally, the kissing does. Between you and him. Its like, despite the bounds of your relationship never having reached this level before, you know exactly how to kiss each other. There's no awkwardness or searching. You just fit.

When finally, you slowly end the kiss, you fail to open your eyes for a good moment, before cracking them open slightly, half lidded and flickering up to his eyes.

And you take a deep, unnecessary breath and step away, torturously out of Inkubus' personal space. "... holy shit." You have so many questions... None of which touch on how exactly you're feeling because you get that much, at least.

But you cant help but wonder why- and for how long this has been brewing and how long exactly that you missed it- and how the hell this is going to work-

He follows you, thank god, a roguish yet soft look on his face. "Maybe we should take this to the livingroom, love. I promise, I can explain everything to you."

[hcywards]

pool — jj maybank

summary: in which y/n finds a stranger floating in her pool

words: 1.7k+

t/w: mentions of abuse, swearing, a make out session

note: y’all seem to really like jj and i cant say that i blame you,,,, so here you go

     Y/N frowned, looking out of her window with the confused nervousness of a girl who could see a stranger in their pool at nine in the morning on a Saturday — because she could, and she wasn’t sure why he was there or how he’d managed to get there.

     The blonde boy was splayed out across a floatie, one arm covering his face from sight, and Y/N figured he was either asleep or had just woken up. His clothes were soaked — he must’ve gotten fully in the pool at some point, and, despite her fear, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of him rolling off of the floatie in the middle of the night. 

     He didn’t look like he belonged on her side of the island. No, he was definitely a Pogue, and, from what little Y/N could see, an attractive one, too.

     But that was besides the point — the point was, there was a stranger in her pool when he hadn’t been the night before, and Y/N wasn’t sure if he was a murderer or not.

     She gulped as she tossed on an oversized shirt. not wanting to waste too much time getting dressed and potentially miss him as he got out. She didn’t take her eyes off of him as she backed out of her bedroom, and the second he was out of sight she was whirling, sprinting through the house with her heart hammering in her chest, thoughts clouded as she tried to get back to a place where she could see him again.

     By the time she made it out of the house, he was awake, back facing her as he tried to jump out of the deep end of the pool. Y/N watched with fear clogging up her throat, but she eventually managed to get out: “Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

     He jumped, falling back into the pool and spluttering as he whirled to face her. Now, Y/N knew for sure that he was attractive, and, under his wide-eyed stare, she couldn’t help but blush.

     “Fuck!” he exclaimed, knowing he’d been caught, and he turned away from her again, jumping up and out of the pool and starting to run through Y/N’s yard. Y/N rolled her eyes and began charging after him, and when he stumbled over a football, she managed to catch him, pinning him down to the floor and pulling her phone out from where she’d tucked it inside her bra. He winced as she moved around above him, and she frowned, but didn’t say anything, just stopped moving.

     She probably should’ve called the cops sooner, she thought, and she cursed herself internally as she tapped in the three digits.

     “Wait!” the blonde boy she had trapped beneath her blurted out, and she looked down at him with an arched eyebrow, thumb hovering over the green button threateningly. “Please, don’t call the cops. I’m sorry.”

     “Why would I not call the cops?” Y/N almost snorted. “Please, enlighten me.”      He gave her a smirk, and she rolled her eyes, turning back to her phone, and he whined beneath her, before blushing at the realisation of how that’d look to anyone who might’ve been watching.

     He’d have to leave that bit out when he told the Pogues about this later, if he didn’t want to be teased about it for the rest of his life.

     “Okay, sorry!” he pleaded. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t call the cops.”

     “Look, you’re going to have to give me a valid reason,” Y/N stated, and he sighed, nodding.

     “Yeah, yeah, I know, me being hot won’t cut it,” he bantered, and she hit him lightly in the ribs, causing pain to flare up across his side, spreading like a wildfire. He let out a yell, and then quickly clamped a hand down over his mouth. Fuck. The girl above him arched her brow even higher, giving him a silent question, and he sighed. How was he going to answer that believably? “Uh. . . I fell down the stairs?”

     Y/N sat up a little higher on her knees, so that no part of her body was touching his, and frowned. “Dude, I can tell that you’re lying. Tell me what happened.”

     “Why should I? You’re going to call the cops anyway,” JJ responded, but when Y/N just frowned a little more, he sighed. “Okay, I. . . got into a fight with Rafe.”

     “Bullshit, the Camerons are on vacation,” she shot back.

     JJ groaned, cursing himself for suddenly forgetting how to lie. “Right, they are.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to think of anything else to tell her. “If I told you it was actually Topper I got into a fight with, would you believe me?”

     Maybe it was the fact that she was straddling him that was impairing his ability to talk his way out of this. He liked to think that that was the case, though, really, he knew that it was because he’d been crushing on her since the day he first caught a glimpse of her at the Boneyard party a few years ago, laughing and talking with Sarah. Kie had been with them, too, as it’d been on her Kook year. JJ had only looked over to give his friend a grin, but having seen Y/N, he’d immediately forgotten what he was doing.

     They’d never had a proper conversation, of course. Every time he was mowing the L/N’s lawn, Y/N was out, and every time he was delivering food to the house, she was upstairs, and every Boneyard party, it was a boy getting drinks from JJ to bring to her. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t recognise him, if he were honest, but that didn’t upset him any less. After all, it kind of hurt to discover that he was nothing but a Pogue to her, when she was the girl he imagined every Touron was, and thought about when he went to sleep, and then again when he woke up.

     And of course it had to be her yard he decided to spend the night in.

     “No, JJ,” she responded, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

     “Great,” JJ muttered to himself, and let out a long, drawn out breath despite the stabbing at his side when he did so. “Okay.” It couldn’t hurt to tell her, right? After all, she didn’t know who he was. How could she tell anyone about it? And it wasn’t as if the cops didn’t already have their suspicions. “It was my dad. That’s why I’m here, actually — to get away from him.”

     Y/N sighed, putting her phone down and looking at him closely, wanting to make sure this wasn’t a lie. “That’s a hell of a story, pool boy. I guess I won’t call the cops.”

     Neither of them moved for a moment after that, seeming to forget where they were and what they were doing. Y/N couldn’t even feel the water seeping into her shorts, and JJ forgot that she was basically pinning him to the floor, her hands pressing down onto his. However, when he remembered this, all breath seemed to be taken from him, and suddenly he felt his cheeks heat up as he realised their close proximity — and it seemed to be getting smaller, though he was unsure which one of them was leaning in. Perhaps it was both, but suddenly her lips were on his, and his eyes were shut as her hands moved to his hair. 

     He forgot about his dad, forgot about the pain in his ribs and forgot about anything other than Y/N as his tongue slipped between her lips and his hands moved to pull her onto his lap properly.

     This was the exact same as all of his hookups, though it felt nothing like it. It felt right, like he was only ever meant to kiss her, and it felt passionate rather than lust driven, calming and overwhelming all at once. He couldn’t think of anything but her when he kissed her, and he didn’t want to, because, for once, he didn’t have to imagine his lips on hers. And sure, it could’ve been just teenagers being stupid, but it felt like a lot more than that.

     She gave his hair a light tug to pull away for air, and he smirked at her. Something inaudible slipped past his lips as he pressed a kiss to her neck, and she cursed quietly, grip on his hair tightening as she let out a gasp. He grinned against her skin at the reaction, never wanting this moment to end. He had to pull away again, though, looking up at her staring down at him with swollen lips and a pout.

     Holy fuck, he could get used to this.

     “Sorry to ruin the party, but I don’t usually have sex in someone’s backyard,” he joked — in reality, he just didn’t want to take his shirt off and reveal his bruises and scars to her. It wasn’t exactly a turn-on, to say the least.

     She nodded, laughing as she stood up and took his hand to pull him up. “I don’t have sex with boys who I don’t know the name of, anyways, stranger.”

     JJ laughed at that. “It’s JJ, and I know yours. Y/N.”

     Y/N nodded, not even questioning how he knew her name as she lead him into her house. “You need some new clothes, JJ, and I could make breakfast, if you’d like.”

     JJ grinned, suddenly aware of how hungry he was. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. And Kook food? Who was he to turn down such an offer?

     “God, I really like you,” he suddenly blurted out, and then his eyes widened as she turned to him with a narrowed-eyed gaze.

     She laughed, though, and he nervously laughed with her. “That’s a hell of a declaration coming from someone I’ve just met, but thanks for the gratitude. And it’s nice to know I’m that good of a kisser.”

     JJ smiled, a genuine, happy smile, and he felt like a Kook with all of their forgotten troubles. It felt odd to him that, even though he’d only just met her, Y/N was making him feel as lightheaded and carefree as she was, but it felt great, and he didn’t want it to ever stop.

     Needless to say, JJ managed to get her number and a few more kisses that day — as well as a plan to meet up the next day, and an offer to stay at hers overnight.

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[theunconcernedembalmer]

ok i got the aesvic out of my system now time to pick apart the letter n why i wont really be following aesops diary exactly here. literally no one asked but i wanted to get my thoughts down somewhere cos i have. a lot

just gonna put a quick rundown of aesops diary entry as a refresher (mostly for myself so i dont miss anything): he dreamt that he was helping jerry with what was probably a murder n was affirmed n he thinks its a sign congratulating him on carrying out his duty. over the years, he carries out his duties as an undertaker n comes to the manor looking for a “fresh start” aka what sounds like his first victim. according to aesop, said victim should be quiet, n potential victim number 1 is victor. something about badly needing him to become his “silent friend” n he mentions he’ll get to wick n the 2 other survivors in due time, but for now he’s very eager to start his “mission”.

im generally okay with the letter (i have seen so many fights over this aha) cos there is no surprise he wants to kill ppl (ppl who r fighting over this point. did u even read his deductions?? guy happily killed his mentor??). but i didnt quite like the fact that he still looks up to jerry (although. i guess thats valid i just. dont like it). i was also initially kind of confused about the real reason why he would want to kill ppl since as u progress through the letter it sounds less like he kills for duty (cos of the whole dream thing at the start) but more “because i want to :)”, which is an okayish edgy kinda take imo. like not that u cant characterize aesop as Kill Kill Murder Die, but i kinda find that. pretty boring in the long term.

im just gonna put what my original take on aesop was, like all of it. first off, he hates jerry. u cannot tell me a psychotic serial killer like that can raise a child without emotional trauma. like any child, this isnt even counting the extra damage done because hes autistic. (n i also hc that aesop has read his moms letter to him at some point, n he should have come to the conclusion that it was somewhat also jerrys fault, whether through logic or denial that his mom would want to leave him, so that just adds to it.) but as much as he hates him, his teachings are the only ones hes been exposed to, n its been so ingrained in him since young so even if he hates jerry he would still subscribe to whatever twisted ideology jerry was feeding him, which ill get to in a sec.

going through his accessories, he has that origami that he folds for each of his clients, n it shows that underneath it all, aesop is still kind. this isnt expected of him n its definitely not part of his job scope as an embalmer. he (still?) has the heart to wish the best for those that have departed n takes the time n effort to fold one for each n every client he sends off, which is probably a lot. so going off on that, my hc is that jerry, being the manipulative asshole that he is (who probably definitely manipulated his mom into indirect suicide) probably used his kindness against him to make him believe that by murdering ppl he is helping them, framing all of his serial kills as a sort of mercy kill (like his mom). so the thing that aesop takes away from all this is the very twisted logic that by killing ppl he is helping them, therefore being a good embalmer and a good person in general. n everyone wants to be a sort of good person, or at least for aesop that is part of his job description to be a good embalmer. n we all know aesop is very serious about his job.

i also hc that he has killed several ppl between killing jerry n coming to the manor, cos i follow the story that he took the invitation from that poor lady n thats how he ended up at the manor. surely the lady didnt come to him right after jerry died?? but anyway, the way i see it is that he thought he liked to kill. like he finally truly understood why jerry kills so much (which is interesting now that i think about it. guy really just went along with all those murders without truly believing huh), because it felt good to kill. at least thats what he thought, the revelation that killing felt good n is good, but i say its because he hated jerry, n offing someone u kinda hate should probably feel pretty gucci. n its also so much easier to pick clients off the streets than in the manor, so i would think that he has killed ppl like his mentor did, but each time he did the great feeling that came with ending ppls life just. wasnt as good as the first time round. it just became a sort of normal satisfaction of a successful embalming.

this can go two ways: 1. he keeps on killing to try to find that great feeling again, which is cool i guess (n probably what canon would want, except canon states that he hasnt killed since jerry), but id like to go with 2. he just stops because jerry isnt around to enforce it whenever he isnt feeling up to psychoing someone to their death (which is probably how jerry got his victims, n damn if that doesnt take a lot of mind games that i dont think aesop has the mental capacity for since half of it is fighting with his social anxiety n other issues. dealing with alive strangers?? no thanks?? i doubt he would have learnt properly how to lure in clients as efficiently as jerry because of this, mostly cos he was only needed for the murder afterparty aka embalming n funerals). n as much as he stays professional, there is no. professional way of gaslighting someone to their death.

(n also since ppl have pointed out that his twitter replies n other kinda informal stuff have shown that aesop does have reverent respect for life, which also adds to him not being so blindly bloodthirsty as implied in the letter. i dont really see the twitter replies as very canon, but it does make sense that he would come to revere life with his unique take and obsession over death, for one cannot exist without the other)

so this leads me to the motive that aesop brings to the manor, at least how i see it. he isnt exactly coming to the manor to kill per se (like from the very early story, he came to the manor to return the letter to a relative of the deceased lady, something about respecting her last wishes. something like that, its really been a while since i saw that exerpt), so like killing ppl isnt his main purpose of visit. its more of hes always on the lookout for weaker (or at least those that take less mind games to kill) people to mercy kill, n it just so happens that he knows the manor n his mentor almost died from there, so theres a pretty good chance he can find some ppl that fall into this category n so it just so happens that he also has a job to do there. its still counted as a Job for him since no ones gonna tell him that embalmers dont actually. murder. 

so in my version, aesop only tries to sway ppl that he knows he can convince, n these ppl would typically be those very sickly ones like his mom (andrew im looking at u) or those with an actual death wish/ very weak will to live. but here aesop is choosing his “first victim”, and the criteria for that is... quiet? never mind “not evading him” and “not cranky” being on the list too, but that isnt quite what i was expecting from someone so dedicated to their duty of murder. sure he wants an easy first kill, but like. i dont think its consistent if his motive was really to continue jerrys bastard legacy. especially when the next paragraph is essentially him gushing over victor, that... sort of implies something else. or at least in the way i see it, since i believe that canon wants us to think that aesop just really loves to kill.

aesop likes victor. very much so. so much till he wants to kill him. which i guess makes sense cos he likes death, n now he likes victor. so he just. puts the two things he likes together. whats better than victor? dead victor. anyway the rest of the letter is more like “whatever, i technically should kill the others too but my priority is victor” so like. he confuses his (dare i say) yandere tendencies with his duty since the end goal for both is a body in a coffin.

having said that. i know i have aesvic brainrot but i also know this is one sided as hell (at least from the letter alone, not counting the letter shaped cookies in his birthday art that apparently belonged to victors birthday cake aha) n lowkey alarming since. the goal is to kill victor. i kinda want to interpret it as him genuinely wanting to be friends with victor (really wanting him to be a “silent friend”, maybe cos he doesnt actually know how to be friends with living ppl n is better with dead ones? therefore victor should be dead to be friends?) but not knowing how to n throwing in his obsession with death ends up with. this minor disaster waiting to happen. but i uh. dont know if this is valid. its valid to me at least, with my original interpretation of aesop. n again cos of his ingrained professionalism, he also kinda sees this as part of his job to send ppl off, so its another plus. not for victor, tho.

idk if ill add this yandere side in my aesop. i mean my boi has technically tried to kill victor multiple times in the past HAHAHAHA. maybe like sometimes he can be a bit obsessive. as a treat. but generally nah cos thats definitely gonna end up in a murder somewhere somehow n i cant. just kill victors here on the ask blog scene lashjflkjhdlfkjhas

so yeah that kinda takes care of the last part of the letter, as for the first part. as much as aesop hates jerry, i would also think hes pretty starved for affirmation (like i said jerry isnt going to be a good parent figure ever) n i guess it makes sense if the only times jerry has ever complimented him was aiding him in his kills n hiding the evidence, which might (?) add to his desire to kill (but that probably dies with jerry aha). so the way i see it as aesop is getting affirmation n takes it as a good sign instead of. remotely liking jerry. idk if im stretching it a little but i really dont like the take where hes okay with jerry. anyway we are ignoring that he hasnt killed before entering the manor cos that doesnt quite make sense to me (i wasnt dreaming about the letter from a lady stabbed in the face 36 times or so right???? right???????)

im also not like. trying to defend him, im just trying to make sense of his diary. boi has issues n is a little too far gone (not as far as canon tho), in my take very deluded in his way of showing kindness. literally cool motive still murder (or in canon, just murder?), please get therapy. but i just dont really like the direction that the letter was originally trying to imply, with him really just hell bent on murder without like. a clear motive (at least to me it isnt very clear since the last part really doesnt sound consistent with his supposed intentions). i mean i love being edgy with aesop every now n then but i dont think it would make for meaningful characterizations in the long run so. ill still be sticking with my original take on aesop with maybe a bit of yandere for victor cos thats always fun

[daaziscoolbesties]

[REPOST] MY 2K WORD COMMENTARY/ANALYSIS OF RANBOO’S LORE STREAM

‼️‼️This post contains lore spoilers from Ranboo’s 4/23 stream, “The Enderwalk Saga. Chapter 1: The Lessons”. If you haven’t seen that stream don’t read ahead unless you want spoilers‼️‼️

disclaimer: this isnt really an analysis as much as a bunch of commentary and half-baked theories.

-on the way to the mansion he was sort of talking to himself saying stuff like "i'm good i'm good" which m a y be a normal thing but also maybe it's not and it flew over our heads cause he talks to chats and donos like that so often

-again, this one may just be a normal thing but when he was climbing up the stairs in the mansion looking for foolish, he repeats some of his words like down to the exact same tone of voice and everything. 12:42,  "this mansion is way too big actually. this mansion is way too big actually." (why the repeated actually? seems odd to me but again it might just be a normal thing that i haven't picked up on). (right after) "okay okay lemme find him lemme find him" again repeated words in the e x a c t same tone.

-does everyone know about ranboo's silk touch hands ability thing? or was that just a techno and ranboo main character moment. bc if it was, how would foolish know that ranboo could pick up the full cake after it'd been partially eaten. unless everyone on the sever knows about that in which case this means nothing. but if they d o n t know... how would foolish know? ranboo wrote about it in the do not read book so maybe if it's not a publicly known thing maybe foolish got his hands on the book and read it??

-14:53-ish, they're talking about the war room and how it was for tubbo or whatever and ranboo says, and i quote "he prepares for lore but he's never gonna do it." now funny thing is at first i couldn't tell if he said "war" like in reference to the war room or "lore". but after playing the clip over and over i can say with ALMOST 100% certainty that he said lore. there is a definite L sound at the beginning of the word. which either means a) this was a slip up (doubtful bc he said later that there were no mistakes), b) he broke the fourth wall because they were supposed to be rping at that point, or c) i'm completely wrong and he said "war" which leads down an entire other road of possibilities

-15:17 "are you a book reader?" "*checks inventory for do not read book* uh yeah i'd say i'm a book reader-" dunno how i didn't catch this the first time I HATE THAT DAMN BOOK

-15:18 there's blue in his hotbar. where did he get the blue.

-16:40 "it's like a metaphor- i have two minds: i have my normal self, my normal little shift-dancing self, and then the builder one. the builder one is demanding. it's a very demanding mind." ranboo then lets out a weird sigh after this. i feel like what foolish was talking about was an indirect(?) parallel to ranboo in and out of enderwalk, there's how he normally is, trying to do best for others, and then there's enderwalk, meeting up with bad guys and "demanding" things (its very late as i write this i really don't know what i'm talking about)

-17:11 "you have your panic closet" i'm sorry his what now 😀 no but seriously how the hell did i miss some of these

-18:04 "you're asking me if i remember?" very funny ranboo thank you for making jokes in these trying times

-18:25 WHY DID HE GET OUT THE AXE WHEN STARING AT THE BEE

-19:38 why did foolish hold the grass block- most of these observations probably mean nothing but- h u h - is that- i'm too tired for this

-19:54 "i never properly thanked you for the deal you made with me" so foolish got something out of this deal, we're not sure if ranboo did. "the green cardboard box" again do you mean dream's house- but seriously the only people i can think of on the server that are associated with green are dream and sam. and i have no idea what cardboard box could be referring to.  foolish got a lime colored shulker from drista

-20:30 "we're supposed to only talk about it at a certain location" hmm now where would that be? panic room maybe? cause like usually after doing a big thing in the enderwalk state ranboo wakes up in the panic room so maybe?  the deal was that they only talk about it in his house

-21:52 how does ranboo receive(?) the lessons? like are they whispered to him in his mind or is he seeing them as words in front of him like we see? hmm

-"Lesson 14: If you have the opportunity to gain a favor, take it." "gain a favor" don't you usually ask people for favors though? how does one "gain a favor"? anyways i'm pretty sure lesson 14 has to do with the deal foolish was talking about. (the deal explained because i now have info: at some point a bit ago foolish met up with ranboo and asked to make a deal, he'd gotten a shulker box from drista. the deal was that ranboo would have ownership of the box, it would be under his name but foolish rents/borrows it indefinitely. ranboo negotiated that if he took ownership of the box he would get a "war favor"  from foolish where if something happens that creates sides, ranboo can ask him a favor that could change his side. but why would foolish want ranboo to have ownership of the shulker you may ask? well i have an answer for you. a theory actually but still. basically since drista technically isn't supposed to give out shit on the server if someone where to have that stuff then they may get in trouble. foolish wants to be able to use the shulker but if it gets found he doesn't want to get in trouble, so he can blame it on ranboo seeing as it's under his name.)

-22:16-ish "i still have this from when you *can't understand whats said here*" well i guess that sort of explains why he had the grass block? idk man (info update: he had the grass block from when ranboo threw it at him telling him to calm down like what ghostbur does with blue)

-31:35 "i figured out how to cause it" how to cause the enderwalk state

-38:30 "ninety three lessons" I STILL DONT KNOW WHY HE KEPT SAYING NINETY THREE AND NOT NINETY FOUR AND ITS DRIVING ME CRAZY LMAO

-39:01 "it's all for the greater good" okay well when are you gonna start thinking about yourself and not everyone else for once huh. self care bitch.

-40:31 he started holding the axe when he was looking at sam- gonna say it i really don't like that axe ahahah- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE THE AXE IS NAMED "axe of ender" I DONT LIKE THAT I DONT LIKE THAT AT ALL

-41:53 is there something?? physically keeping him from telling sam??? or maybe it's sort of like his enderwalk state taking control to make him shut the fuck up??? so many questions and approximately zero answers

-43:18 ranboo raising his voice legitimately scares me 😀👍

-"Lesson 27: Do not reminisce on what you have lost for it will weigh you down." showed up when he was thinking about and REMINISCING about the community house 👀👀

-"Lesson 53: Never fully trust anyone." showed up literally after he said that he thinks he can trust the other people on the server enough to tell them about what he did

-"Lesson 67: Leave no evidence of what you have helped with." this is different from the others because there doesn't seem to be at least a semi-direct connection to it? unless maybe at the time ranboo was near something he may have "helped with"? not sure about this one

-"Lesson 94: DO NOT LET THEM KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE" yeah yeah i get it i get it he's fucked up some shit in enderwalk i don't feel like analyzing this thanks

-OH OH NOTICE HOW HE SAYS "REMEMBERING" WHEN THE LESSONS SHOW UP. IMPLYING THAT THIS ISNT A NEW THING, ITS HAPPENED BEFORE AND NOW HES REMEMBERING IT. MAYBE HE WROTE DOWN THE LESSONS WHEN HE WAS IN ENDERWALK AND NOW THAT HES BEEN EXPERIMENTING ITS BEEN EASIER FOR HIM TO REMEMBER THOSE ENDERWALK MEMORIES

-okokok the experiments are that he's been e x p e r i m e n t i n g on how to purposefully induce the enderwalk state. and we know now that it wasn't from the pain of the water because on the stream afterwords he said that it's caused by the intense fear of something happening. and so the "side effects" of the experiments is that since he's in enderwalk more often(?) he starts remembering more things from it

-OH MY GOD WAIT "there is a reason sam, there's so many reasons, theres ninety three of them" (44:47) WHAT IF EVERY LESSON IS TIED TO A QUOTE UNQUOTE "reason" THAT RANBOO THINKS HES A BAD PERSON/NEEDS TO BE LOCKED UP BUT HE SAYS NINETY THREE INSTEAD OF NINETY FOUR BECAUSE THE NINETY FOURTH LESSON DOESNT HAVE A REASON YET/HE DOESNT REMEMBER IT HAVING A REASON

-dude honestly the whole sam part hurts so much this man is scarily good at acting

-46:46 "i cant put you in the prison you wouldn't be able to see michael anymore" bestie that's the point he doesn't want to accidentally hurt michael or tubbo in the enderwalk state—

-okay but there's no way that sam couldn't tell that ranboo was at least TRYING to confess to something- i feel like he definitely knows more than he's letting on because usually like when people do bad shit or admit to doing bad shit he's like in Prison Guard Mode™️ (he literally cut off ponk's arm because he stole some keycards or something) and whatever and idk what he knows but he definitely knows something and is trying to protect ranboo. or he's trying to manipulate him or smth either one works—

-50:38 "you are a good person" "i am?" you can hear my heart shatter. "yes you are" "i don't think so sam" "i do, even if you don't" "i really don't think so" and there it goes again

-51:25 hello badboyhalo i see you to the left of ranboo

-52:44 "but then my curiosity got the best of me" curiosity killed the cat, bitch

-52:54 "there's ninety three, ninety four, ninety- theres so many reasons!" SEE!! NOT ONLY ARE THERE THAT MANY LESSONS THERE ARE REASONS THAT CORRESPOND IM S O SMART—

-52:56 "i don't want to remember anymore!" *quietly brings forth my theory that when ranboo loses a canon life his memory gets wiped*

-53:13 "ive opened pandora's box" isn't the prison?? literally called pandora's VAULT??? so this m a y be a stretch but i'm thinking that maybe this could be taken in the literal sense that he "opened" the prison and let dream out (the sirens at the end of quackity's stream confirm that dream is indeed out)

-53:42 mans just straight up walked through a ghost i—

-55:37 so are we just gonna ignore the eleventh page of the book? "he's alive, but hopefully soon dream won't be"??? alright nevermind it's most likely bc when tommy came back he recruited ranboo in his plan to kill dream

-55:47 notice how he writes "what am i?" as opposed to "who am i?" no elaboration here idk what it could be

-56:08 just so it's clear for anyone who doesn't know- he's wearing armor at this point, and i'm like 90% sure that when he wears his armor water can't hurt him. and i saw someone say somewhere that like with splash potions when thrown it turns into a gas-like thing? so again, it didn't hurt him, he didn't get hurt. he said in the chill stream that he wasn't comfortable making it where his character had to hurt himself to do that. the thing that causes the enderwalk isn't pain, it's intense and sudden emotions like fear and stress. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.