#cant ever be like them no matter how much i try and climb and crawl until i bleed its exhausting its maddening

[yaoianimeremade]

Soon im rly gonna do it

[happys-crazy-queen22]

I'm The Right One For You

Gif credit @spooky-cory.

Requested by @stellarosedutton. I hope you like it Thanks for the request.

"Rip, Rip, babe"? Snapping your fingers in front of Rips face. You were trying to talk to him about the kids but he seemed like he had something more interesting on his mind and in his sight.

"What"? Rip, huffed turning his head to look at you.

"Where are you right now? I'm talking about the kids and you're off in lala land".

"I have lots of shit on my mind. I cant be talking about the kids, right now". Rip grumbled and grabbed his beer off the table and walked out the door.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched the kids play with their uncles. You knew this job was hard on Rip but you thought it would be easier if you and the kids were there to help out.  But it just seemed to make things worse for Rip and you.

"You okay"? Lloyd came over and sat down in Rips spot.

"Yeah. I'm good".

"You know, ever since you and Rip got together. I could tell when you lie. It wasnt very often but when you did, you always said "I'm good". Not your normal bubbly self. So what's up"?

"I think, Beth Dutton has finally sunk her claws into Rip. She has been awfully flirty with him and he just shrugged it off at first but now I think they have something going on".

"Why do you think that"?

"He's distance. He never comes home at a descent hour nowadays. We havent had a conversation longer that "get to work". I'm starting to worry.  We havent had sex in months. We use to do it every night".

Lloyd couldnt hold in his laughter. "I'm very aware of that. We could hear you miles away. But dont think to much into it. He's just stressed and hes working to hard". Lloyd tried to reassure you but it didn't help.

"I know. But something is wrong and he wont talk to me". You sigh running your hand through your hair.

"You need some sleep. Why don't you take the kids and head to bed. We'll be quiet".

"Yeah. Thanks for the talk, Lloyd".

"Anytime, sugar". Lloyd sent you a wink as you grabbed up Carson, your 2 year old son and Neveah, your 3 year old daughter with Rip.

Carson was already asleep when you hit home, just a walk down the trial. Neveah was a little chatter box. Opening the door on the house, you got a not so suprising shock. Your suspicions were right. Quickly covering Neveahs eyes with your hand.

"You cheating fucking bastard". Your voice made Beth giggle and Rip freak when he saw you.

"Its not what it looks like". Rip tried to explain.

"Did you slip in shit and went dick first into Beth's pussy"? You asked sarcastically.

"Dont cuss in front of the kids".

"Oh so you can cheat on their mother in front of them. Because this right here will scar them for life before me saying dick and pussy will. You fucking asshole". You grabbed up Neveah and headed back to the bunkhouse.

You kicked the door open as Rip was behind you. Everyone got quiet as you came in.

"Did you all know"? You asked everyone staring at you.

"No". Lloyd looked at you then to Rip with a disappointing look.

"Can you watch them so I can cool off and figure out what to do? Because I'm not staying here". You handed Ryan Neveah and laid Carson down on the beside him.

"Yeah, no problem".

You started outside and grabbed a sledgehammer on your way out that leaned against the house.

"Y/N, what are you doing"? Kayce heard the ruckus and came running out of the main house. Rip didnt follow you. He was probably getting a ear full from Lloyd and the others. They seemed to care about you more than Rip did.

"Stay out of this Kayce". You growled, going up to Beth's car and smashing her back windshield.

"Oh fuck". Kayce exclaimed, his hands going to his hair.

You smashed in her side windows and then her windshield with ease. You were beyond pissed.

"No no no". Kayce went to waving his arms.

Then you went on to Rips truck, you climbed on to his hood and smashed his windshield.

"That's my truck". Kayce yelled his neck vein popping out as the moonlight hit him.

You looked in the truck, there wasn't two carseats for the kids. "Why didn't you tell me beforehand". You screamed back.

"What does no no no mean to you"? Kayce dramatically through up his arms.

"Sorry". You got down from the hood of the truck and walked over to Kayce, who was having a nervous breakdown over his windshield.

"Where's Rips truck"?

"At your house, I'm guessing. Damn it, Y/N. Why did you do that for"?

"I caught Beth fucking Rip in our house".

"Shit, I'm sorry. You can continue on her car if you want"? Kayce chuckled, he tried covering his crying as he went up to his truck. "I love this truck".

"I'll pay for the windshield. Well, Rip will".

"Yeah, okay". Kayce sniffled and turned around to you. "You wanna talk about it"?

"Nah. I'm okay. I saw it coming. It was just a matter of time. I just wish that Naveah hadn't seen it". You handed Kayce the sledgehammer.

"Oh no. I'm sorry. That sucks".

"Yeah, so I'm going to go get the kids and go home. Rip can fuck off. Sorry again about your windshield".

"You need help? Um carrying the kids"?

"Sure. Thanks". You slightly smiled and went to the bunkhouse. When you got in the kids were asleep. Rip was gone and the guys were quietly playing poker.

"Thanks for watching them. I appreciate it". You told Lloyd and the others as you scooped up Carson.

"Any time. We're sorry about you and Rip. We gave him a lashing.  He's sorry".

"Yeah, well. Fuck him. Thanks again".

Kayce and you started walking down to your house. The lights were out so you knew Rip wasnt home.

"You sure you want to stay here? You know, after what happened"? Kayce asked walking up the stairs, Naveahs arms wrapped around his neck.

"Shit. I didnt think of that. We'll just avoid the couch. Just put the kids in their beds". You chuckle as you opened the door. You averted your eyes and headed to Carsons room.  Laying him down gently and kissing his head, before stepping out. Kayce met you in the hall way.

"Before you go can you help me"?

"Sure. Anything".

"You want me to touch that"? Kayce gagged as you laughed. You wanted the couch out of the house.

"Just grab it and let's go".

"They were naked. Doing the nasty".

"I thought you were a country boy. Not afraid of anything. Not some wimp".

"You've seen Rip naked and shit. I havent. I dont want the mental picture and his DNA all over my hands".

"Quit whining. I didnt want to see your sister balls deep on my boyfriend but I did. You can handle a little Rip jizz". You say with a laugh as Kayce dropped his side on the ground quickly wiping his hands off on his jacket with a disgusting face.

"You alright there"?

"Peachy".

"You alright"? Kayce asked.

"Surprisingly well. I thought I couldn't live without Rip, but after catching him. I dont want anything to do with him. Every time I see his face my skin crawls". You say putting your end of the couch down and dusting off your hands.

"Want some coffee"? You asked Kayce.

"You want company"? He replied.

"Yeah, I wont be able to sleep so might as well stay up with you". You snicker as Kayce playfully nudged your arm.

"Gee, thanks. I'm so glad I can keep you company".

"Um, when did you know Beth was after Rip"? Kayce questioned when you set his cup down in front of him.

"Months ago. When we all went to the rodeo. I took the kids to the bathroom and when I came back she had her head and arm laying on him. He just shrugged her off when he saw me. So I knew something would happen or had already happened". You gulped down the steaming hot coffee in your mouth.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not my place to say it but you're better without him".

"What you mean"?

"I mean no disrespect but what does he exactly do for you and the kids? He's hardly ever home. I've never seen him take the kids riding or even play with them. The horse hands do more than he has since you been here. I just dont know what you saw in him". Kayce felt he was treading on thin ice when he said that.

"When I met him, he was drunk. He's funny when he's drunk. We started dating, had Neveah then Carson and everything after changed when we moved in with him. Like we're stepping on his toes or something. Now he doesn't talk to me. So I guess what I saw in him.... I'm not sure anymore".

"You're a single mom basically. Now you're a single woman. What are your plans"?

"I dont know. I guess I can move back to my old house. It hasn't sold yet. Put the kids in daycare and still work here. But then Rip wouldnt want that and I dont want to see Beth all over him. So I'll have to get another job".

"You're really going to leave"? Kayce acted crushed.

"There's nothing here for me".

"I'm here. The guys are here". Kayce licked his lips as he looked at your lips.

"They dont want a mother with two kids here, weighing them down. Especially you, you dont need that".

"What if I want that"? Kayce looked into your eyes.

"Kayce, stop".

"What? I know you feel this connection between us. It's been there". Kayce stepped closer to you. His hand reached for yours on the counter top.

"I just broke up with Rip. You really decided that this was the perfect time to confess your love for me". You nervous chuckle.

"There isn't a better time then now. I want you. I may not be the man Rip is but I'll take care of you and the kids. I'll treat them as my own. You can move in with me and smother me with your toys and love". Kayce grinned.

"They do have lots of toys". You say looking around the house.

"What about Rip and Beth"?

"They have each other. Why cant we be happy together"?

"I dont know, Kayce".

"We'll take it slow. How about this Saturday, we go on a date. The guys can watch the kids and we'll get to know each other. I'm funny without being drunk,  I have other great things about me. Plus I'm cute and you can't say no to this face". Kayce pointed to his face with a smirk.  

"Okay. I'll go on a date with you. I don't want to hurt the kids if they get attached and we dont make it".

"I understand. But I have a feeling we're going to make it. I even see a little Dutton in our future". Kayce pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Is this you being funny or have you lost your mind"? You laugh, putting your hands on his chest.

"I'm just sure that we'll be together. We're going to have a great future together". Kayce leans in and captures your lips with his.

This all took you by surprise. You didnt know Kayce felt this way about you. But deep down you felt in your heart that this all happened for a reason and Kayce was meant for you. You just took a detour, a bumpy road and went off a cliff but was rescued by a cowboy named Kayce Dutton imagine that.

[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 💜

[oh-for-fic-sake]

A Baby Brother!

Masterlist

Henry is a busy boy, trying to impregnate his wife...and it is only made harder when your three year old decides to share your bed crawl into you bed at night..But that's fine Henry has a plan that cant possibly backfire.

Warnings: slight smut?, implied smut, fluff, swearing.

A/n:so this request from @jessevans​ has become a oneshot series...its cute, and for a little extra fun this is a true story of what I did to my parents in my first year of school and to this day I'm not forgiven!

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​ @Angelofthorr @iloveyouyen​

A Baby Brother!

After the whole boyfriend fiasco things had gone on as they normally did whilst Henry was home. He kal and Paige were the dream team stuck to each other like three peas in a pod,and he had basically taken over with her, trying to savoir the few short months he was home with his girls. You'd also been finding yourself being whisked away for quickies at all times in the day by Henry...well when Paige went to playschool... lets just say that every surface in your home had been put to good use.

Somehow the idea of him being able to 'knock you up' again had drove the man rabid! Every chance he got to pin you down and fuck you he took. But not at night there  was one thing that was getting in the way. At night Paige had refused to sleep in her own room, instead crawling into bed with you and Henry at some point each night, she was afraid of him leaving again so soon, it happened sometimes she would have separation anxiety. But it also meant you and Henry were reluctant to try at night. Henry tho had a plan apparently...so you decided to let him get on with it.

He sat there in the living room watching as Paige practiced her letters on the coffee table that was smothered in her early learning books. He smiled at her then leaned forward resting his elbows on his spread knees.

"Paige-y baby can we talk for a moment?" She blinked then frowned at his more serious tone and nodded putting down her crayon.

"Yes daddy?" He smiled down at her resting his fingertips against one another.

"Baby... can we have a serious big girl talk?" She eyed him carefully and had shrunk into her shoulders a little serious normally meant she was in trouble. Maybe he knew!?

"It wasn't me, I swear KAL DID IT DADDY!" She cried loud and proud putting her best efforts into her paddy even forcing a few crocodile tears, he blinked for a second looking around slowly trying to see what 'Kal' had done.Nothing in here. He looked back to the tantrum throwing toddler panicking he held his hands up at her.

"Whoa whoa little lady kal did what?" Realizing Henry had no idea what she did she stopped .

"Oh..never mind what did you want to talk about daddy?" Dumbfounded Henry blinked at the now perfectly calm child, she really did scare the hell out of him sometimes, he shook his head getting back on track.

"Well...Your a big girl now aren't you? Getting good with your letters and numbers and soon you'll be in proper school" she nodded smiling wide

"Yes daddy look!" She raised her book showing how she'd traced a dotted line of a few words and copied them underneath.

"Wow! You are a big girl look at that! You did that all by yourself?" She nodded grinning as he took the book and placed it back down in front of her.

"Well because your soo big and soo clever me and mummy was thinking you are big enough to help with a err...new addition to the family" she tilted her head and Henry sighed of course she wouldn’t know what that meant.

"A knew family member-" she slammed her hands down squealing

"ARE WE GETTING A PUPPY!? WHERE IS IT? IS IT HERE YET DADDY?" he only just caught the excited girl by the waist as she got up to look for the puppy. He scooped her up and sat her on his knee.

"No poppet not a puppy" he chuckled moving stray hair from her face as she pouted.

"Then what? We cant get a kitty Kal will eat it!" He really laughed at that shaking his head.

"I doubt Kal would actually eat a cat...I think..any way no sweety mummy and daddy want to know if you’d like you a baby brother or sister to play with?" She froze and turned to look at him. He held his breath his whole plan was based on Paige wanting a sibling.... Besides what little girl didn't want a real baby to hold and cuddle, his probably knowing his luck. She twiddled her fingers smiling shyly.

"A-a baby brother daddy?...A real baby..n-not a pretend one like suzie has?" He smiled relieved. Thank god. He nodded.

"Mmhmm a real baby in the house" she jumped up screaming in excitement

"A BABY BROTHER! I'M GETTING A BABY BROTHER! WHERE IS HE DADDY I WANT HIM!" Henry being the emotionally charged wreck he was got choked up seeing her so happy about the prospect of a baby, knowing then and there that Paige would be a perfect older sister.

"Paige! Paige calm down poppet, that's it back over here we haven't finished talking yet good girl now the baby wont definitely be a boy it could be a girl, we wont know until we get pictures from inside mummy's tummy" she gasped putting a hand to her tummy.

"Mummy has a baby in her tummy!?" He faltered not really expecting to get this far. He hummed shaking his head.

"No no not yet..see we have a little problem that only you can help me and mummy with." She stared unblinkingly at him determination written across her face.

"Okay what do I got to do for the baby daddy?" It was cute how serious her face was but there was something else going on in her curt little head, she looked sad, worried. Anxious. He watched her and continued carefully.

"Well you see mummy and daddy can't have a baby until your a big girl, now we know your good with the toilet and washing up , you help mummy and daddy in the house and garden and your good at your school work...but you still creep into mummy and daddy's bed at night...so what me and mummy need from you it to try and stay in your bed at night...do you think you can do that? For the baby?" She froze for a second and blinked Henry faltered holding his breath.

"Th-thats all? Just sleep in my bed? I don't need to leave?" He gasped

"Good heavens no! Poppet of course you don't!" That was when she let loose streams of tears streaking her face as he lifted her up shushing her.

"Oh sweety no no! here come with me daddy wants to show you poppet!" He quickly scooped up his little girl making his way out of the living room he walked past you shaking his head.Later. you nodded and watched as he climbed the stairs with an upset baby girl curled up in his chest. Once upstairs he past Paige’s room and walked into one of the spare rooms, it was empty apart from a few boxes that were going to be moved to the loft. It was light basic cream walls oak wood floor boards high ceiling and huge window.He set Paige down.

"Here we are...see this will be the babies room eventually..." she sighed looking around.

"Its like mine...but not as pretty" he smirked chuckling at her resting his palm on her head as she looked out of the window to the drive below.

"See... we have enough room here for everyone you wont have to leave my love, you'll never ever have to leave  and you know what?" She sniffled shaking her head

"Wh-what?" He crouched down before her smiling taking hold of her hands making her look at him

"No matter how many babies me and mummy have you'll always be my little lady." She looked up tears in her eyes sniffling quietly wiping her eyes trying to hide them.

"Re-really daddy? Always and forever?" His heart melted at the hopeful little face and he held out a pinky

"Always and forever...pinky promise?" She quickly wrapped her tiny pinky around his as if he would change his mind and take it away.

"You can’t break a pinky promise daddy"

"I don't intend to baby I promise that you are going to be my first little lady and you can always stay with mummy and me" she smiled giggling wiping the stray tears way

"And kal and baby!" He smiled leaning forward kissing her head. then she froze as she heard you

“why is the Strawberry pants dug up and in the fridge!” Henry gave Paige a look she shrugged giggling

“They were droopy Miss Bou said they were hot so I had to cool them down” he shook his head at her spinning her in the air.

“come on let go fix your mess you little monkey!”

Later that night he had explained what happened and you both laid there waiting for the tell tale foot steps from her room but no. None. You smiled kissing him deeply, he had done it and around 1am you found yourself pinned beneath your husband moaning loudly as he rutted into you determined to fuck you full again and again.

He'd never been this determined before but after the second round you realized what he was doing, this wasn't sex or fucking he was breeding you. It was during that night you realized that your husband may have a secret breeding kink all dirty talk of how he couldn't wait until you were full of him again, carrying his child and this time he would definitely show you off make sure everyone knew just who you belonged to. He loved the idea of you pregnant, letting everyone know just what he'd done to you, that he had put your child their. He finished with a harsh thrust and a growl looking straight at into your eyes. You giggled as he collapsed on top of you deciding to stay exactly where he was.

"Baaabbe no I cant sleep with you...you know" he huffed a laugh

"Sleep...babe I’m just resting round five in ten minuets....on second thought maybe fifteen...god I forgot haw good it felt fucking you in our bed~" you wriggled below his huge frame.

"Nooo noo! Henry I've got to be up at six to get Paige ready for preschool!...that’s like in three hours...Please baby enough for now." He gave you a look, you did look fucked out. He relented rolling over taking you with him letting you lay on top of him making you mewl.

"Fine your right I won't fuck you anymore tonight...I’m not pulling out tho every little helps and all that...the longer your stuffed the better the chances...try not to move to much in your sleep babe if i get hard again all bets are off" you whined panting and sweaty as he looped his arms around you pressing your face into his neck.

"Your a fucker you know that?"

"Well I was trying to be but you’ve pussed out~" you bit his neck at that making him laugh hard.

That morning Henry had to take Paige to school as you were 'ill' you couldn't move you woke up as an orgasm washed over you Henry was grunting above you holding your hips still plowing away at you again unable to control himself. Thankfully you had both finished before she had rushed threw the door kal close behind her both jumping on the bed.

Henry had only just managed to cover himself as she dived onto you covers bouncing excitedly asking where her baby brother was. You gave him the stink eye telling her that it didn't work like that, telling her that it takes time for them to get here.She now thinks that babies are like amazon deliveries and take time.

You sighed walking hand in hand with Henry as you made your way to the playschool, you were both like a couple of teenagers stealing kisses every now and then. Luckily you could both be normal in the village, the locals were used to him being around on and off by now.

Once at the colorful fence you both stopped waiting with the other parents making small talk, you noticed that word of Henry’s return home must have gotten out as there was many more women then usual you sighed feeling them all stare getting an eyefull of your husband in that stupid blue tank top, showing off his amazing shoulders and arms, you knew he did it for you knwoing you loved his broad shoulders.

Then for some reason you got a little niggling feeling you saw Paige coming out first in line holding hands with Micah who was her walking partner...Her teacher was also walking with them. When the children was let out Miss Bou came up to the both of you with Paige.

"I just wanted to come over and congratulate the two of you." She said beaming as Paige climbed Henry who was also confused tilting his head to the teacher.

"Huh? What for?" She looked confused

"Well..Paige said that she was getting a baby brother..she's been talking about it all day" you snapped your gaze to your little cheeky monkey who was grinning at her teacher. Henry was already laughing out loud ruffling his daughters hair You flushed and sputtered knowing he was going to be no help.

"Paige!" Miss Bou smiled uncomfortably

"I-I’m sorry are you not?" You smiled at her Henry was trying to cover stamp out his laughter not giving a damn that everyone around you had heard what was going on.

"No..no I’m not pregnant" you said trying to compose yourself

"But mummy! Daddy said if I sleep in my own bed you’d get a baby! And-and you were sick and couldn't get out of bed this morning and Rose said her mummy was sick before she had a baby!" Henry laughed twisting her away from you if looks could kill his daughter would be no more. You were mortified! There was a few gasps and murmurs of 'oh hell no she did not just say that' he smiled biting his lip shushing Paige for her own safety who saw nothing wrong with what she said. It looked like he had to take some heat of the poor mite.

"What y/n means to say is we are trying but had to...I had to have a talk with this little lady here and convince her to stay in her own room at night..." you growled at him as the teacher now blushed bright red and nodded with a tiny squeak at the look he now directed at you winking.

"Isn't that right babe" he was thoroughly enjoying himself, he never liked the way a few of the mothers eyed him and you when you picked up Paige and this was a perfect time to rub your healthy sex filled relationship in there unfulfilled faces. He could see some of them fanning themselves brushing bright, hearing the envious whispers from said women ripple around them 'She couldn't move after' 'he made he bed bound fuck me..please?' You grunted just giving him a death stare.

"Daddy mummy looks scary!"

"She does doesn't she? That’s okay baby don’t worry she isn’t mad at you, she is mad at daddy....daddy will make it up to her later~"

"Pinky promise?" He snorted and grinned cheekily winding his pinky around his daughters as you stood there getting brighter by the minute. Looking about ready to blow.

"Henry! You best wind your neck in!" He laughed loudly and turned walking away "Quickly run away!" You sighed as he jogged away with a giggling child. You looked at the teacher.

"Thank you very much for telling me about Paige...Me and Henry will talk to her tonight...he chickened out on where babies come from talk" she smirked snorting

"And now?" You smirked

"Oh he is definitely going through that with her tonight and I will watch him squirm"

"He has no idea does he?"

"Nope, I’ll teach him to mess with me" she laughed waved you off as you ran to catch up with your idiot of a husband kicking at him making him yelp as you connected a solid foot to his ass making Paige giggle.

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

Blood 2. 39, Finale. Part 2.

Everything Taglist: @gold-dragon-slayer @your-internet-granny

@darkwhisperswolf​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @blonddnamedhandz​ @thelastemzy​ @inforapound​ @supermassiveblackhope​ @captstefanbrandt​ @roonil-wxzlib​  @syreni-dea​ @cynthianokamaria​ @rosiebrosie @loliismutt@pinkisokay @heavenly1927​ @annekleyn​  @rose-02468​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @moonie-flower101​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​ @peachyboneless​ @feyrearcheron44​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​

wanna start from the beginning? haven’t read the first part? start here!  Blood 1 Masterlist

“i need you”.

she looks at him, her eyes innocent, loving, that look ivar craved seeing.

for a moment, she doesn’t see the man who killed sigurd, the man who tortured and murdered innocent people (y/n) wished to protect.

she sees ivar, just ivar, her ivar.

“i need you too”.

no matter how ivar was feeling, no matter if he was happy, or angrier than ever, she was always there to help him, to be with him.

damn, he truly loved her.

he moves closer, and she grabs his forearms as she stands.

“what are you doing?” he asks, and she smiles wide, standing in front of him, looking up at him.

“you’re taller than i thought you were, ivar”.

they laugh, ivar throwing his head back as he wraps his arms around her. loving the difference in height.

“and you’re smaller than i thought you were”.

she looks into his eyes, and cant help but feel something so much deeper build within her.

ivar places his palm upon her jaw.

“promise me no matter where we go in life we will always find each other” he says, and she laughs softly.

“i have already promised you this, ivar. i promised never to leave your side, to never be farther away than an arms length away. i promise to never stop loving you” she says, the last part of her words a whisper, and ivar feels his heart beat for her in that moment.

looking in his eyes she sees him, all of him, truly. the real ivar, the one she loved so deeply.

she sees him, and she can;t help but lean into his touch, letting out a content hum.

that little sound sets ivar aflame.

he leans in, rests his head against hers.

“i’ve loved, but i’ve never loved anyone like i love you, (y/n). we were destined to know one another”.

she smiles at his words, her hand running through his hair, playing the nape of his neck.

“i love you, ivar” she says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) stands from the ground, groggily taking in her surroundings.

she feels the world around her scream, blood curdling screams, the smell, the taste, the feel of her hands soaked, was it mud?, was it the numbness from the cold?, was it blood?.......

suddenly, she hears a shout to her left, she turns, and finds a woman charging at her.

she spins, swiping her leg out, tripping the woman, making her fall to the ground, (Y/n) picks up her sword and slams it into the woman's gut.

just as she looks up, she meets ivars eye as he climbs atop the hill, it wasn’t just his presence that made her lose her breath, made her eyes widen, made her blood run cold.

it was the thousands, upon thousands of frank warriors trailing behind him.

they stood no chance.......

she turns, meeting bjorns gaze, and she can practically read his mind.

“RETREAT!” bjorn yells. “RETREAT!”.

(Y/n) sees all of ivars warriors start to cheer, mid run towards them, all of them happy to have driven them out.

she sees hvitserk, sees his sympathetic gaze on them, backing away towards ivar.

“ubbe!” she calls out, finding her brother ahead of her, waiting.

she runs for him, but then, his voice shouts out frantically.

“(y/n)! look out!”.

she turns to find one of the franks, charging towards her, sword high.

she easily ducks his first blow, but the slam of his fist to her face, makes her lose direction.

she goes to hit him, but he grabs her wrist, shoving her forward into him.........lodging his blade in her side.

(Y/n) gasps, eyes fluttering as the searing hot pain shoots through her like injected poison, his grip on her tight, making sure he made the sword go deep.

“NO!”.

“(Y/N)!”.

no sound, no smell, no feeling but pain crippling her.

it’s almost.......peaceful.

but horrid.

she tries to take breaths, but all that leaves her are wheezed inhales, her hands pawing at his shirt, as if asking for help to make the pain go away.

she is forcefully shoved back, the sword leaving her side, and she falls to her knees, looking up into the mans eyes, almost questioning him ‘why?’.

no words leave her mouth, and the frank almost looks regretful, but he has no time to think when ubbe and bjorn charge him, taking his life before he had time to blink.

as she lay there, back on the muddy ground, body becoming colder, she reaches her weak arm down, running her fingers over her wound.

she numbly stares at her red stained fingers............

(y/n) is panting, trying to catch her losing breath as she clutches her side, blood pouring from her.

ubbe let’s bjorn handle the rest, and he crawls towards (y/n).

he takes her in his arms, pressing his hands to her side to try and slow the bleeding.

“no, no, no, no. (y/n)” ubbe mutters, voice cracking, strained as the rock in his throat grows.

lagertha falls on her knees by her side, aiding ubbe.

“we have to get her out of here, clean the wound, get her to safety”.

“i am afraid to move her!” ubbe exclaimes, tears threatening to fall as he takes in his sister bleeding to death in his arms.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry” ubbe cries softly.

(Y/n) can’t speak, her vision going in and out, her eyelids struggling to stay open.

“u-ubbe?” she croaks out.

he looks down at her, his tear falling upon her face.

“i....i love you”.

“don’t say that, don’t say that” ubbe whispers, resting his forehead on hers.

“ubbe, we have to move her.............now” lagertha says, voice shaking as the girl they cared and loved was slowly losing her light.

“if i move her now she will bleed out” ubbe says angrily, looking at lagertha.

“let me take her” bjorn says, eerily calm. “you need to make safe passage for me, i can put pressure on her side, enough for her to stay alive until we get there”.

“i can’t-”.

“you’re shaking” torvi says, tears staining her face. “you won’t be able to keep full pressure on her wound”.

it takes ubbe a moment, but he knows this is about her now, her safety, her ability to survive.

he gently hands her to bjorn, bjorn grunting as he adjusts her in his arms.

her arms hang loosely, her head tucked into bjorns neck, breathing so heavily, so shallowly.

“hang on, (y/n).......please”.

ubbe looks atop the hill at ivar, still shaking from the events that had just occurred.

ivar is pale, his own palms trembling, along with his lip, his eyes filled with tears.

ubbe clenches his jaw, pointing at him, silently telling him it was his fault, it was all his fault.

ubbe backs away slowly, aiding bjorn in making a safe way for their sister to get the help she needed to survive.................

he could only hope that she would survive in the end.............

Blood 2 part 2 coming soon.

[creepypastashavecomittedtaxfraud]

Hello I’m the anon who requested the possessive/obsessive with Jeff, Toby, and BEN and I’m perfectly fine with the clingy or protective one instead. Either is fine or both whichever your more comfortable with :)!

Okay sweet, here ya go, hope you like these ^^

Jeff the killer:

If you tell him that you really want him to be protective and clingy with you, that it makes you happy and safer, he is more than happy to do so with you. He always wants to act that way really but holds off most of the time. or at least he would with a different partner, but hey, if you want him to be like that he will. he really really will.

He almost always insists on leaving the house with you. Really really hates when you leave the house by yourself and if you go he’s all worked up over it and visibly agitated while your gone. Hell, if you let him he will even follow you to the human world during the day just to make sure nothing happens to you, and normally he would never ever get caught dead up there during the day.

Even with most of his scary features covered up, he is fucking Scary. Being in the underworld and disconnected from normal people for so long gives him a terrible aura and a literally uncanny valley level threatening killer feeling about him . People intentionally very obviously avoid  going near you two. Which is good. Likes keeping people farrrr away from you.

And when you two are just at home he still sticks close. likes to keep his hands on you . its a nice sort of gentle hold. on your arm or shoulder. around the waist, whatever. 

If he has to leave the house without you, like yknow. for work. he’ll get a hold of you and kiss your cheek and neck and tell you to be safe while he’s gone. makes you promise you won’t get yourself into trouble or anything. It takes a lot of reassuring that you’ll be fine but he will let go...yknow eventually. A lot of cute teasing back n forth and kissing before he finally does pull away, very hesitantly . A good 15 , 20 minutes after he actually said he’s leaving probably heh

Sometimes after coming home from the stabby business he won’t wipe off the blood before giving you some hugs and kisses. and he likes if you don’t wipe the blood off right away. kind of a. mark. if you will i guess. you do have to wash it off eventually of course but when you just go about your day covered in blood he’s spilled he’s like uhhhhhh kinda hot lol. a little marking showing off youre his baby like that

Ticci Toby:

He worries so much for your well being it makes him sick sometimes how much he cares . Hence why he always seems extra worried and concerned over every little thing with you. He doesn’t like being too far away and tries to remain at least within earshot of you 90% of the time if not constantly right next to you. He’s your full time attack on command body guard and he likes it that way. 

You were probably getting made fun of as a joke by some of the others one time and getting a little upset and. god it really set him off and. it was a big fight between him and whoever it was and a whole big deal like that. and later that he was crying and holding you in his amrs saying how sorry he is, and how he absolutely can’t stand to see you hurt like that

if anyone ever hurts your feelings he gets soooo fucking angry and defensive as hell. Has probably gotten his ass kicked a couple times for being over protective of you and getting into fights with others. and not winning. he cant help it. he just feels like he needs to protect and defend you all the time

Just wants to be near you so much it hurts. you two cuddle to sleep every night, and no matter how sound asleep he is and how careful you are the second you try to climb out of bed he’s desperately holding onto you and clinging to your arm begging you to stay there with him, just for a little longer please. He sounds so sad when he asks you to you of course crawl back into bed and let yourself get held and kissed all over again. He’ll let you go in a second, he promises...Just hates the thought of waking up and you not being there so much.

is always giving you his things. his clothes and his gloves and his earrings and well whatever you can think of. He absolutely loves seeing you wearing and walking around with things he owns. it really just. makes you look like his. and he really loves that.you look so sweet when you wear and use his things. ur his baby

When he has to go out on a job, he’s so on edge the whole time even more than normal until he gets home and can see you again. The second he steps back into the house and gets the reassurance you’re fine its like he can breath again. Stays by your side the whole rest of the night

Ben drowned:

Ben is usually very chill, but god he is sooooo clingy with you. You can NOT get him off you. He very literally can not sleep without you at all, and he uses his height to his advantage as in he’s always literally clinging to you while floating and letting you drag him around like that. he’s always all over you all the time so I hope you enjoy that

While he is chill, his protectiveness comes out in more subtle ways. And he’s a little more jealous type than toby, especially when it comes to the guys. 

If someones sitting a little too close he subtle ly pulls you away a tiny little bit and starts kissing you or distracting you with something else while occasionally looking over at whoever it was to see if they look annoyed or jealous. which, they never do, thankfully. but cant ever be too sure.

I think if anyones actively flirting with you, even as a joke, he gets pretty visibly agitated. he’ll death stare for a while and wait to see what happens, and if it gets too much he’ll like throw an empty soda or beer can at them and tell them to cut that shit out. everyone gets the hint at That point but if they ever persisted or, god forbid made you uncomfortable he’d really lose his cool. get between you two and shove them and tell them to fuck off. His voice gets really glitchy and distorted when he’s mad and he’s actually kind of intimidating like that. just put your arms around him and hug him from behind and tell him it’s ok and to calm down and he’ll be fine. probably drags you away somewhere else to spend time with you and is all passive aggresive with whoever it was for a whileee after

He lets a lot of things slide, but he does not like anyone getting too touchy or even jokingly flirty with you at all. playful teasing and a little play fighting thats fair game, but if they start getting Weird with you he interjects himself into the situation and tells them to fucking watch it and leads you away. closer to where he is . and he can put his arm around you and make sure everyone around there knows not to try it. sometimes you gotta assure him that its okayyy and he should know theyre just messing around. 

he didnt even really know he had a more protective side to him like that until you two got together. but now its like. just the thought of anyone else touching you or talking to you sweet or cutesy makes him queasy . and as long as you seem to like and react well to his protective clingy-ness, doesn’t see a reason to stop

[sup4l3e]

I’m Crazy...

I’m insane...

I've lost the plot..

I'm hopeless..

I'm worthless..

I'm unloveable..

I'm pathetic..

I'm weird..

I'm strange..

I'm not okay...

I'm a psycho... (ok this one for me might be true... question it, go on try it! i dare you! ;0 lol)

BUT...

I AM!!!

Those are just some of the things my own mind tells me on a daily basis ... yes here it comes a blog about anxiety and depression... omg!! i know right the cliche of it all. like who hasnt written a blog about depression before ...

oh woe is me! am i right?

well... thats where you're wrong!

(before i start i want no sympathy im not writing this for the "aww's" and the "bless her" comments, i dont want sympathy or empathy ... this is simply because ive experienced and lived with depression for about 14 years and if i can help one person feel better about themselves by reading this or help someone realise that they are not alone then, well, i can rest easy tonight. If anything i want to empower people)

I lived for so many years in the dark, keeping all of this too myself and you know what it did? absolutely sweet FA apart from making me so much worse, it gave ammunition to those little voices, telling me all of the above, making them win!

i didnt realise until about 2-3 years ago that talking about my experiences and how im feeling would help.

i didnt realise until about 2-3 years ago how many other people around me were going through the EXACT same thing.

Two and a half years ago i was a completely different person, i was sheltered, i was in a very toxic relationship ... with myself. Most people would disagree, they'd say i was actually in a toxic relationship with my ex partner; but i cant blame him. Dont get me wrong he was toxic and looking back i was lucky to get out when i did, however i am also grateful too him, because he showed me exactly what i dont want in my life. and being fair to him i'd lived with my own toxicity in my mind for a good 10 years before him, so god forbid i'd give him the satisfaction of all that praise coz by god did i do a damned good number on myself without any of his help. ;)

In all honestly though, i do blame myself and my own mind, because 2 and a half years ago those little voices in my own head were the only thing i was listening to, they were winning. I wasnt listening to my family who were worried sick about me, who were practically begging me to tell them what was going on in my head, who i shut out, ignored and pushed away because i couldnt cope and you know what? they didnt deserve that at all. i live everyday regretting that i put them through that, So i now live everyday hoping to make them proud of me and live each and everyday with a promise. I do however live every day regretting that i didnt let them in earlier because if i had of i wouldnt have gone through the hell i did and i wouldnt have genuinely believed "this is what i deserve" "no-one else will love you" "no-one else wants you" "no-one cares"... i wouldnt have had too live a LIE.

The lie was people did love me, i just couldnt see it, people did care about me, i just wouldnt hear it, i needed their help, i just wouldnt speak it; because at that point in time my own mind was telling me that i didnt deserve any of that, and that nobody would ever want to do that for me. So i found sactuary in a toxic person who in the long run made me the strong person i am today because if it werent for him i'd never have the confidence in myself knowing what i overcame, and if it werent for him i wouldnt have seen my family and loved ones take charge and say "Leanne enough is enough" .. they gave me the metaphorical slap across the face i damned well needed and brought me back to reality, they categorically wouldnt allow that behaviour to carry on anymore and for that i will forever be grateful!

i made a promise to them that day that i would always tell them when i was getting low again and i made a promise to myself that day that i would keep them in the forefront of my mind in all of my decisions and i would also promise to try and help anyone else who was ever in the same position i was in.

depression is a funny old thing, everyone will experience some form of depression throughout their life, some people are genetically wired to experience it, some people will experience it from a young age, some dont experience it until very late on in life, some experience it from sad/happy/overwhelming life events, some unlucky souls just never find happiness. but no matter what EVERYONE will, at somepoint experience depression. in this blog im going to try and explain how i've learned to manage and cope with mine.

A bit of a backstory of my depression, it started around the age of 14-15, my depression. I dont know where it came from but it was right around the time of my GCSE's, college, boys, hormones, and being diagnosed with PCOS (for those of you who dont know what that is its Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) i was told at a young age of 14 that i had some sort of syndrome which "would only matter when i got older", and that i had some of the prettiest ovaries the sonographer and gyneacologist had ever seen... in hindsight that wasnt going to be the compliment i first thought it was or the dismissive statement they portrayed it and brushed it off as, at all! THAT diagnosis changed alot of my life, however i will get back to that.

As most teens do around here I started studying for my GCSE's at just 15 years old. i was so stressed out i started actually hearing a screaming voice in my head. i suffered panic attacks daily, sometimes a few attacks a day, and that is where my anxiety started and then, good old depression smashed me in the face. i found the more stressed i became, the more id hear that screaming inside my head which then lead me to thinking " holy fucking shitballs im hearing voices im actually insane" therefore leading to more anxiety and panic attacks. so much so i would come home exhausted at 4pm everyday crawl into my pyjamas and climb into bed ready to do it all again the following day. (dont get me wrong i sat most nights on msn using the latest flashing emojis for EACH and EVERY letter of the alphabet, to the point it looked more like hyroglyphics and obviously getting the colours just right with the codes to make your name and status show in a rainbow. but that was all done in pj's curled up in bed because i couldnt manage much else ... however, if my mam asks i was revising and doing my homework THE. WHOLE. TIME, not talking to my friends about how hot a certain crush's bum looked that day ha! am i right! :P xoxo)

This was all a massive thing for me to go through aswell, due to the fact my dad has mental health issues and lives with schizophrenia, so, naturally at this point, you can imagine i was picturing myself in padlocked straight jackets and padded cells, talking away to the screaming voice in my head. the funniest thing was this screaming voice wasnt saying anything nasty or bad it was just my thoughts screaming at me like everything was angry, so genuinely just everyday life thoughts but those screaming at me, like, imagine thinking "leanne dont forget to pack your PE kit" but in the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket... it. was. TERRIFYING!

Anyways, so yes high school was a massive contributor, then i made the choice to leave college at 17 because i, like many others, didnt have the faintest clue what i wanted to be when i grew up (little did i know id live the life of peter pan and neverland would be my sesh house OIOI!!!) In leaving college i went into full time work, as a 'temp job' until i decided what i was going to do... unfortunately, 8 and a half years later i was still their prisoner! haha, Nah, dont get me wrong i met some absolutely amazing people in that job and i did love it but i knew at the end, if i didnt get out it was going to kill me off. I'd gotten to the point in that job that i cried myself to sleep knowing i had to go back in the next day. that place contributed alot to my depression not because it was a bad job but because id made a wrong decision and was stuck there. i had to leave.

my next massive contributor, and this is where i divulge some of my REAL heartbreaks. PCOS - Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or what i like to call Poly fucking Cystic fucking Ovary fucking Syndrome or "lets just fuck shit up!" (no im not bitter about it at all lol) because of this shit, from the very young age of 14 (like puberty isnt hard enough - spots, hair in places you never wanted boobs growing overnight, bleeding once a month being the biggest inconvenience) i have also had to deal with weight issues, hersuitism, depression, anxiety, hormones that sent me bat shit crazy, pain, headaches, fatigue, you name it i had it. but the biggest heartbreak, being told that id always have difficulty concieving and carrying a child. Anyone who knows me, and knows me well, knows i have always wanted to be a mam. (and not the sesh mam who looks after all my drunken idiotic friends on a night out ... coz i swear thats all they ever think i do lol) I mean a real mam, to a real baby. and being told at a young age that i had the prettiest ovaries the gyneacologist had ever seen wasnt the compliment i thought it was because it turned out my ovaries were absolutely covered in cysts. And for years i have tried to have a baby but alas nothing ever happens. i've had a few close calls and ive miscarried, or at least i think i did, the test came back positive but then about 3 days after that pretty pink second line, i had the heaviest period i had ever had for around 4 hours and then my body went back to normal as if nothing happened. it broke my heart.

They say the human body is delicate and intricate and should be treated with respect... i say its a machine and its a absolute twat at times, and why should i respect what in essence has caused me heartbreak from a young age FOR NO FUCKING REASON. but hey ho... life. goes. on.

so... thats my life story or just a snippet of it. and some of the reasons why i have depression.

heres how i cope...

Well, for a long time.. and i mean a VERY LONG time i didnt. i hid it, i hid away from the world. i drank alot. i avoided family, i avoided my best friends, i avoided anything that would have brought me back to reality.

For a long time though, thats what i needed. now im not saying running away from your issues is easy and thats what you should do because its definitely not. im saying i NEEDED to do it at the time because i had no other way of coping and i NEEDED too to learn what not to do in the future. So masking, for me, was better than facing things 'alone'. In that time though, i made my issues alot worse and in fact caused more issues. it hurt my family, my friends and well hurt myself too, because in the long run i still had to sober up and i still had to deal with the same issues that got me down in the first place, i ended up in debt which contributed further too my issues. I did some very silly things which when i look back on them now i could have hurt so many people. i took an overdose of painkillers at one point around 2 and a half years ago. I felt so weak i saw no other outcome but instantly regretted doing it and made myself sick so that they came back up. i've told my mother and close friends about this previously but i think to really show how much i've learned and to reach out to anyone who is feeling the same way i did, to tell them IT REALLY DOES GET BETTER AND EASIER. i think saying that, shows my honesty throughout this post and allows for my experience and honesty really show that i want to help anyone going through the same thing.

Masking just makes the pain go away for a short period of time. learning from your pain and making it your strength is how you really overcome your own mind and depression.

It wasnt until i realised i was never alone, just how selfish and stupid id been all that time, because in masking, hiding and running away, id stupidly stopped myself from a faster recovery, less heartache, less pain and mental and physical torture. and really i stopped myself from helping others in the same position as me.

it wasnt until i learned to make my pain my strength that i truly found peace in who i am.

i still have days where those voices wont shut up, and they win and thats ok.

i still have days where i cannot climb out of bed and thats ok.

i still have days where i cry and the pain is too much and thats ok.

because i learned all of it really is ok! everyone has those same thoughts the same feelings the same illnesses. and i know that tomorrow WILL be a better day.

you just need to learn how to make it and own it as your own!

nothing has changed for me, all of those things are still true they're still real, my body hasnt miraculously healed itself, i still made poor life choices, it hasnt changed my hormonal imbalances but it has changed my mindset. it has changed my life. i made a choice to change my mindset and not let it beat me i decided to let people in. my family are my guardian angels because they never gave up on me, they dragged it out of me and frogmarched me to the doctors for the help i needed but some people dont have that support in their lives.

i'm lucky enough now, to have lived with this for long enough to know my signs, and when i know what i call, "going dark" is coming. basically when i start slipping and losing control of it again, i identify it and know how to manage it head on. unfortunately my body because of the stupid "intricate machine" i have and how broken it is (believe me the day i can swap out into an AI robot body imma sign straight up for that shit imma have me a body like Jennifer Anniston) my body however tends to go into a meltdown, i end up with more migraines, pain and infections. i also get extremely tired to the point i can sleep for a good 15-20 hours a day and thats not me being lazy (although if sleeping were an olympic sport i'd be the universal champion of it BED=LIFE) thats really me needing to reset. at that point in time when i know this is coming, thats when i reach out; i tell my friends and my family "I'm not okay" because i know now i can do that, i can talk to them.

i, personally, take medication daily, and for some reason we live in a society where people are actually shamed for doing so. i know if i dont take those 2 little tablets every day i will lose control and become a shell of who i really am. my seratonin levels drop and i practically become a robot barely functioning. so why should i be ashamed of those 2 little 'happy pills' which make me the person i want to be and know i truly am! no chemical imbalance is going to get the better of me! if i can have the help, im damned sure going to take it. along with the happy pills, aswell as alot of sleep, sunbeds, spending time with family and friends whenever i possibly can, i now have a job that i love, i also retrained as a beautician, and i love going to the gym and swimming whenever i can, ive found i can manage mine alot better. one thing that massively changed my life was limitting when i drink. i rarely go out drinking anymore and the reason is because i know deep down i will end up in a very low state afterwards. alcohol is a depressant and i wont allow that kind of thing to get me down. so now instead i choose to drink once a month if not less. i havent cut out the drink completely i just know if i want to get blinding drunk i need to be in a very happy place to do so. so i am careful where i drink, who i drink with and what i do whilst im drinking and unfortunately much to my neighbours disgust that tends to be in the house whilst singing along to whitney houston or disney songs at the top of my lungs, but thats how i know i'll not plummet the day after, and lets face it anyone whose heard me singing knows whitney had nothing on me ;)

In all seriousness though, the best advice i can give anyone living with depression is talk to someone, talk to your family, talk to your neighbour, talk to your friends, talk to your doctor, talk to your dog, your cat, the postman, the man on the bus who sits oddly close too you... just talk to anyone. tell them how you are feeling tell them your experiences. tell them what is getting to you. Find someone who you can trust, find a stranger. write it all down in a blog. video it. GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST! SAY IT OUT LOUD! Just. Bloody. Talk! please!

everyones experiences with depression are different some people mask it, some people show it, some people (like me now) shout it from the fucking rooftops because im not afraid of my emotions anymore.

everyones ways of coping are different too, some people find the gym helps, some rely on medication, some rely on talking therapies... there are so many different ways of coping out there now... the only way that doesnt work is not admitting something is wrong and fighting your own mind without help, knowing something isnt right but still doing nothing about it. The only way of not coping is living a lie, you dont have to do this alone!

Basically do those things just for you, the ones you've always wanted to do! get that tattoo you wanted, quit your job, retrain, change your hair colour, buy that car, buy that dog, book that holiday.

do what makes YOU happy!

live for you and open up, people would rather know how you are feeling than see you struggle or ultimately not be here.

open up you never know someone might be feeling the exact same way you are and it could bring you closer.

but remember most importantly:

You ARE NOT Alone..

You ARE NOT Crazy..

You ARE NOT insane..

You HAVE NOT lost the plot..

You ARE NOT hopeless..

You ARE NOT worthless..

You ARE NOT unloveable..

You ARE NOT pathetic..

You ARE NOT weird..

You ARE NOT a psycho..

You ARE NOT strange..

And..

You ARE okay...

You ARE Beautiful..

You ARE Worth it..

YOU ARE Loved

i hope this helps...

thank you ☺

[fiftyshadesgrl]

Wrecked

I sit shivering from fear and cold, my clothes dripping from the freezing rain outside. I have heard about negan and the saviors but had never ran into them. I had been alone since my boyfriend abandoned me, how long was it, six months, a year. I had no idea all i knew is it was spring when we were cornered in that gas station by walkers and now it was winter.

Jake, my boyfriend at the time said the gas station looked safe, but nothing ever is safe these days. I followed him to get supplies and luckily this place hadnt been raided yet. We split up, i go for canned foods, water and medical supplies, jake goes for ammo and weapons.

I heard the walker outside, i ducked and waited until i thought it was clear. Turns out more made their way to us. Jake turned the corner just as i was closing my bag, he signaled for walkers outside. I nodded and crawled across the floor away from the walkers sights. I stood next to jake, "we cant go out the front way." Jake nodded and signaled towards a exit in the back,, i nodded and followed him.

Jake turns a corner, the big exit sign in sight. Jake turns the knob and i cringe as it squeaks loudly. He opens the door just a crack to make sure its clear then opens it all the way. Everything seemed to blur then. A walker grabbed jakes arm, the walkers arm detached as jake slammed the door back shut.

I heard glass breaking and bodies hitting the floor. I looked around and seen the managers office and rushed towards it, twisting the knob and thank god it was unlocked. "Jake! Over here!"

He lets go of the door and runs to where i am. I see the walkers coming in from where jake just stood. I slammed the door and slid the lock in place. The walkers started pushing and banging on the door, jake used all of his weight and pushed against the door.

"(Y/n) help me hold the door." I pushed all my weight against the door, didnt seem like it did much good from the way the hinges were creaking with every push. We looked desperately for a way out, not seeing anything in my sight that would help us i followed jakes gaze to the heat duct above the desk. "Think we could reach it?" I say as the door shook violently.

He looks me deeep in the eyes, "i can for sure."

I nodded, "okay you go first while i hold the door then you pull me up."

He shook his head, "theyll get in before i could reach you."

"What do we do then? We cant just stay in this room." I say trying to hold back the tears.

He leans towards me and kisses me, "i love you." He whispers agaainst my lips.

"I love you too." I say knowing this would be our last kiss. Suddenly jake lurches forward jumping up on the desk and pulling the cover to the duct off. "What are you doing?" I yell as the door gives way more.

He shrugs, "survival of the fittest. Ill miss ya." He climbs into the duct, leaving me behind.

"You son of a bitch!" I scream. I check to see how many bullets i have left in my handgun, just one. If those damn things wanted a meal they aint getting me alive. I look over at the file cabinet and decide to fight for my life.

I made a quick lunge for the file cabinet and push it, i seen the door giving way but i had to do something. I push and it tilts, i push with all my sttength and huff out a breath as it falls over just as the doors hinges give. I jumped up on the desk and jump towards the opening of the duct, almost damn it. The door begins to break more, a walker is halfway through. The pack on my back is making it hard to jump so i open it, grab a water bottle, a first aid kit and a can of spam.

The walker is crawling through as i make one last attempt to jump. I jump and get a grip inside the vent. I pull with all my strength, i have my upper body laying inside the vent as the walker grabs my boot. I kick franticly but its grip is relentless. I grab my handgun from my belt and shoot the walker in the head. Throwing the gun down as i pull myself the rest of the way into the vent.

I lay there for a minute trying to catch my breath. I can hear the walkers below scratching and clawing trying to get to the vent, thankfully i know they cant. After that day i have been on my own, i never found jake even if i did id probably kill him for leaving me.

I sit now in a room that reminds me of a interrigation room at a police station, but at least it was dry and warm. The man who now sat in front of me his name was simon, his 60's porno mustache stood out to me and thats how i remembered his name. "So little lady, where are you from?"

I look up confused, this wasnt the question i had been expecting. He shook his head, "what i mean is what group are you from."

I shake my head, "im not with any group."

He leaned forward in his chair and intertwined his fingers. "Dont lie to me, its better if you just tell me before the main man gets here."

"Im not lying. Ive been on my own for months." I say shivering, i hear a door open and a tall dark haired man wearing a leather jacket walked in. He swung a barbwired covered bat around as he whistled some kind of tune.

He took in my appearance and nudged simon with his elbow, "simon, be a gentleman and get the lady a blanket." Simon didnt hesitate, he stood and left the room when he came back in he handed the man the blanket and exited the room. He walked over towards me and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, i clutched it and shrunk into it getting all the warmth i could.

He walked back around the table and sat down, "whats your name doll?" He asked, i couldnt help the way his voice warmed me on the inside.

"(Y/n)" my teeth had stopped chattering and my toes and fingers strated to get the feeling back in them.

He smiled and nodded, "im negan." I felt the fear creep back up my spine at the mention of the name i had heard so much of. He chuckled, "i take it youve heard of me."

I nodded, theres no reason to lie because what have i got to lose. "Yeah quite a bit actually."

He ran his tongue over his teeth as he leaned back in his chair. "Whats a pretty little thing like you doing all alone out in this cold?"

"I have nowhere to go." I say matter of factly.

Negan furrows his brow, "of course you do. If youve heard of me then youve heard of the sanctuary, you couldve always come here. How long have you been on your own?"

I shrug, "i dont really know 6 months to a year. I dont even know what month it is."

"Its december." He says handing me a bottle of water, i down it in a matter of seconds. "How long since you have ate?"

I place the bottle down on the table gently, "three days ago." He nods then goes to the door, he ls talking to someone. He shuts the door a moment later then sits back down in the chair across from me.

"What group were you with? Whyd you leave?" He crosses his leg to where his ankle is resting on his knee.

"I wasnt with a group. It was just me and my boyfriend for a while. Then we got cornered one day and he chose to save his own ass and left me behind. I got out though thankfully. Ive been on my own ever since." Theres a knock on the door and negan goes to answer it, he comes back holding a tray of food. My stomach rumbled at the smell of whatever it was, he placed it in front of me. There was various vegetables, soup, and bread. I dug in immediately and negan just sat and watched.

He waited til i was done to ask anything else. "Howd you survive all this time?"

I leaned back, having a full stomach and being warm made my eyelids heavy. "I kept low, stole when i absolutely had to and stayed away from walkers."

He laughed, "thats a real fuckin woman there. Well let me be the first to welcome you to the sanctuary. You can stay as long as you like. Come with me cause i know youre in desperate need of a fuckin shower."

"No shit." I chuckle under my breath, he laughs again as he leads me upstairs to a magnificent bedroom.

"Everything youll need is in the bathroom there. Ill have you some clean clothes on the counter before you finish." Why was everyone so scared of negan? He was portrayed as a monster, a blood thirsty psyco who would kill someone if they looked at him the wrong way. This wasnt the negan that was standing before me. I feel like i can trust him. Will it come back to bite me in the ass? Only time will tell.

To be continued.......

@an-unhealthy-obsession @holylulusworld @vicmc624 @jesseswartzwelder @tftumblin @justanotherwinchester

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Newest Reyes

Gif credit @angels-reyes

My first Ez imagine. Hope you all enjoy.

Requested: yes on wattpad.

Happy Reading Dollies.

It was well past twelve am and you were still up studying, this exam put so much pressure on you that you thought your brain was going to fall out with all the information you had to learn. You yawned and stretched trying to stay awake but it wasnt helping so you opened your window and let the cool air breeze wake you up but you got a surprising awakening. Ez popped out behind the bushes scaring you half to death.

"Why would you do that"? You held your chest. Your face was white as snow.

"I'm sorry". He laughed kissing your face.

"It's not funny. What are you doing here so late"?

"I could ask you the same thing". He said climbing threw the window.

"I'm studying and you have to go". You sat back down at the desk.

"What are we studying"?

"Trigonometry. And you're supposed to be studying too, if you want to get into college".

"I already studied. Now I think you need a little break". He pulled you up and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting little kisses to your nose.

"I miss this". You say snuggling into his chest.

"We just did this like six hours ago". Ez chuckled.

"But I need it every hour".

"But then your dad would know and he'll kill me".

"I know. It sucks". You hugged him really tight.

"Okay enough, I have to get back to studying and you need to leave before my dad finds you here". You pecked his lips and he huffed heading back out the window.

"Get some sleep. I love you". He poked his head back in and quickly kissed you.

"I love you too". You went back to studying and tried finishing the last chapter before you went to bed but it seemed sleep was more important as you cut out the desk lamp and crawled into bed and drifted off.

"So how do you think you did"? Ez refuring to the exam.

"I guess okay. It was easy". You said sitting in his lap.

"That's good right"?

"They say if it's to easy you probably did it wrong".

"Doubt it, you aced it. I know it and soon we're going to go off to college and we can be seen out in public don't have to look over our shoulders looking out for your dad". He began kissing your neck.

"Stop, we're going to get caught". You giggled squirming away.

"Yo, Ez. Woah". Angel stopped in his tracks and starred with his mouth open.

"Please don't say anything". Ez placed you in the seat as he got up, protecting you.

"I know you know who's daughter that is but do you really"?

"Yes, he's your President".

"That's right you idiot. He's going to rip your balls off and send them to dad. That's his little girl".

"I know but I love her". He looked over his shoulder smiling at you.

"Love ain't real, its a high school crush that's going to get you killed". He started to walk off but Ez stopped him.

"You're not going to say anything right"?

"No but if I was you I'd end it before something happens". Angel walked off leaving Ez scared.

"I think I need to be getting home". You tell Ez but he wasn't listening so you got up and walked off leaving Ez to his thoughts. 

Angel of course had to open his big mouth as you read the pregnancy test in your hand. POSITIVE!  It read loud and clear.

"Perfect". You sigh, laying on your bed. How were you going to tell Ez? Oh no, your dad? He really would kill him now for sure.

You got up the nerve to tell Ez first but wanted to do something cute cause you knew he would be excited. So you went old school with a white onesie and a sharpie.

"Hey baby". Ez came up behind you during study time in the library.

"Hey, why aren't you in American history"?

"I skipped to see my beautiful and smart, super sexy girlfriend". He kissed your lips.

"Well I'm not thrilled with you skipping but I'm happy that you are here. I have something for you or should I wait"? You thought, making Ez growl.

"Now, give me". He held out his hands and you placed a box in his hand.

"Now when you open it, you have to promise to be quiet and not freak out".

"I promise". He excitedly opened the box and froze as he saw the word daddy.

Ez pulled out the onesie and held it reading it."Daddy's new riding buddy". With a little motorcycle.

"Seriously"?

"Yeah".

He stood up fast kicking his chair out from under him. "I'm gonna be a daddy". He screamedb cheering.

"Will you shut up"? One kid said.

Another said. "Good for you, my girlfriend calls me daddy too. Now would you shut the fuck up? We're trying to study". Ez looked at him confused.

"Wow". You said shaking your head.

"I cant believe it". He got you out of the chair and picked you up, hugging you tightly.

"I'm glad your excited. I hope this stays when you tell Bishop". Ez let go of you.

"Fuck me".

"I did and this is the result". You giggled poking his stomach.

"Funny".

"But you know he's going to kill me right"?

"I'll be there in the middle of the gun fire and I will shield you. I'm not letting you be taken away from us".

"Thanks but I think I should tell him that we're dating and then you'll come in and tell him".

"No that will just get you killed. We'll go in together and tell him".

"Okay. I can't believe we're going to be parents". He gushed bringing you close to him, softly kissing your lips.

"What time is those Reyes brothers going to be here again"? Your father asked as he got another beer from the refrigerator.

"They should be here any moment". You smiled going back to cool the stew. The plan was to tell Angel and your dad at the same time maybe it would lessen the blow to your dad that you got knocked up and still in high school.

Knock knock.

"I'll get it". You yelled running to the door. Opening it, Angel stepped in first and then Ez sneaking a kiss to your cheek.

"Hey".

"Come on in, dads in the living room. I'll get you something to drink". You excused yourself from them and went to get drinks.

Coming in the living room, you could feel the tension. What was going on?

"Here you go". "So what did I miss"?

"Ez tells me you're dating. Is that true"? Your father asked.

"Yes, we were going to tell you together. When the time was right". You starred at Ez.

"Anything else you want to tell me"? His tone made you tremble inside. You knew he knew. Something.

"Yeah there is actually". You took a deep breath in and held it in. "I'm pregnant". Letting the breath go.

"You're what"? Angel and Bishop said together. Angel slapped Ez on the back of his head. Making Ez growl at him.

"I'm pregnant and we're keeping the baby. We're still going to college and Ez will work nights. I'll work days if need be but we're doing this together with or without you". You say proudly.

"You're eighteen what do you know about raising a child"? Bishop asked.

"I've babysat since I was nine. I know how to raise a child".

"You're so young and you have a future ahead of you. And you let this ruin that". He pointed to Ez who had his head hung low.

"We love each other. He makes me laugh and he's so sweet to me. I couldn't ask for a better man in my life to call my own".

"I hope he's worth it to give everything up that you worked so hard for"?

"He is. I'm happy and that's all that matters. If you can't except that then you won't be in your granddaughters life". You quickly covered your mouth. You told them the gender.

"It's a girl"? Ez rose from his seat, walking over to you.

"We're having a baby girl". You cried, hugging Ez tightly.

"I'm happy for you brother but you're an idiot". Angel laughed.

"You're going to have a niece. You have to help me protect her".

"I'm here, ain't got no where else to be". He hugged Ez.

"Thanks man".

"Dad"? You crouched beside the chair Bishop was sitting in.

"Don't you want to be a papa"?

"I didn't want this life for you". He said not looking at you.

"Ez is a good man. He'll take care of us. But I'm always going to need advice from my wonderful, understanding father". You sugar coated it.

"I'm not happy about this. Not until I see that he can prove himself and I can hold my granddaughter in my arms". He smiled widely, letting you know he's okay with thw situation.

"Thanks daddy". You hugged him tight. You were his only child and his little girl. He wanted the best for you and to protect you. So letting you go was the hardest thing he ever had to do.

Eight months have passed, you gave birth to a healthy eight pounds ten ounces beautiful baby girl. Ez wanted to name her Marisol after his mother. You thought it was the sweetest way for his mom to be part of his daughters life. Ez and Bishop still don't get along very well but your dad wanted to keep an eye on him so hes prospecting for the MC. You just hope that they keep him out of trouble and from getting hurt. He has a family to come home every night too. You were going to college and Ez took classes online. You both wanted the best for your child that you were going to do it no matter what it took.

[thequeenb]

Anger

Pairings: KamilahxMC

Since Amy was back Kamilah was only focused on training her and it suddenly became all to much for Amy.

Kamilah was lurching to grab Amy but Amy's new speed came in handy so she dodged. "Listen Kamilah slow down" she said trying to control her feelings but then Kamilah caught her off guard and knocked her down holding her there "Your enemy wont slow down" Kamilah said standing up. It was all to much for Amy, all the did was train and feed, they didn't talk about anything else rather than how to be safe and of course she was greatfull for that but her emotions took over. "I am trying to talk to you!" Amy said with a harsh tone. Kamilah looked over her shoulder as she crossed her arms "All we do is combat and training and feeding on repeat!" she said as anger build inside her. "Of course thats all we do, you need to be prepared" she was to scared to lose Amy once more, she was new to feelings she needed time but that moment all the stress and anger came out at once.

Amy's voices filled the walls of the room"i am not your fragile human anymore" her voice was cold "i dont need your protection and you are annoyed by that" Kamilah couldn't believe what she heard "I am helping you and thats how greatfull you are?" she said approaching dangerously "Oh really? I am not just for training, we didn't even talk about you saying you love me!" and that's when Kamilah felt like someone punched her in her stomach and she couldn't breathe "It was a weak moment of mine" words didn't came out quite like she wanted them to "Amy i didn't-" but Amy's eyes were red in anger "A weak moment?" and without another moment Amy pushed Kamilah on the wall making a giant hole in it "i will show you a weak moment!!" and she did as she promised, every move Kamilah taught her was used in her advantage, that until she noticed Kamilah couldn't get up. "You..are.. stronger..than..i thought" Amy was lost the events of the night came back.

"I dont try i win!!" Amy said as she stabbed Gaius on his chest, but when she looked down Jax's sword was deep inside her chest, she couldn't breathe.

Kamilah stroked her cheek tenderly drawing her closer "And i lo--"

Amy gasped as she realized she was on the floor, tears on her cheeks "Amy..are you ok?" Kamilah said with a concerned look. "Leave me alone" Amy said shaking but Kamilah didn't listen "I SAID LEAVE" that tone made Kamilah step back surprised. "You didn't mean it..you..YOU" she stood up ready to tear someone apart, her eyes were burning red. She couldn't hurt the person she loves so she ran out.

As she was running in the destroyed streets of New York city the amazing delicious smell of blood was everywhere on the air. She turned around and found a woman bleeding asking for help "please help me..you!! Please!" Amy smiled as she licked her lips "oh i will do more than that" and without another word her fangs were out and she attacked the woman hungrily grabbing her neck, sinking her fangs in her rich artery sucking as much blood as she could. The woman's screams echoed in her mind but the thick, warm blood down her throat felt amazing, she couldn't resist it. That until a strong arm pushed her away from the woman. It was only then when she realised what she has done. The woman laid unconscious on the ground, a pool of blood around her. She looked in her hands, they were dark red. Kamilah looked at her with pure anger. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Amy was lost but all she did was lick her fingers clean "mm delicious" she said smiling. That wasn't Amy, it cant be.

"Like you haven't killed anyone, pools of blood we spilled because of you" Amy said coldly, Kamilah was shocked by Amy's behaviour "I dont need you anymore, you dont love me anyways" before she could leave Kamilah grabbed her hand and pinned her against the wall "You will come with me" before she could protest she noticed how close they were. How amazing her body feels against Kamilah's, how warm she is.

Before she even realize they were in Kamilah's apartment kissing passionately. "Strip for me" Amy said, Kamilah smirked at this new confidence. Kamilah did so and she took torturously slow her suit laying naked on the bed. The moonlight light fell upon her olive skin. God she was so beautiful. Amy took her clothes off amazingly fast thanks to her vamprire speed. She crawled on top of Kamilah holding her wrists on top of her head. "Dont move" Amy said trailing kisses on Kamilah's neck and breasts. "Will you be a good girl?" she asked smirking. No answer just deep breaths. She pinched her nipple smiling "i asked something" Kamilah moaned sweetly, Amy's favourite sound "Yes i will" thats all Amy needed.

When she arrived between her legs she dig her nails into her thighs making her move. "Uh oh i said no moving" Amy said climbing to reach Kamilah's neck. Before she sink her teeth into her neck she gave her a look that have been approved. As her fangs drew blood Kamilah's breath stopped, but when Amy's tongue sucked and licked her blood she moaned loudly as she felt Amy's fingers between her legs.

It felt so good, Kamilah's warm blood felt so sweet in her throat. "Amy dont stop" Kamilah said breathlessly. Amy stopped drinking her blood and kissed her. Feeling the metal taste as their tongues danced together was enough to make Kamilah reach her peek.

Smirking Amy held Kamilah close licking her hands. "You were amazing" Kamilah said kissing her forehead "if you ever need to blow some steam..just tell me so, dont harm innocent people". Thats when it hit Amy, "oh my god what have i done..i am so sorry" she said tears running down her cheeks. Kamilah held her close "dont be..its hard for everyone to adjust" Amy felt comfort and she relaxed into her lover's strong arms "I love you very much so". Amy's heart was about to jump out her chest and Kamilah could hear that so she smiled down at her. "I love you more" Amy said kissing her.

No matter what their future hide them, as long as Kamilah was there Amy was fearless.

Tag list: @lightning-fury @galaxyside-0 @scarlet-letter-a0114 @la-guera-69 @ilovetaylor13m

[geeky-roleplayer]

My friend @ruinvevo wrote a Voltron fic.

She was having some problems with Tumblr and asked that I just post it onto my account, crediting her, of course.

So here it is! - Kay.

🌹🌹🌹

title: champion

fandom: voltron: legendary defender

word count: 3,421

notes: see bottom of page for that

song: champion - carrie underwood ft ludacris

two hands in the air, i will be the last one standing

i am a champion

Theodore Kai could recall almost anything you asked him about. Rather it be the first time he knew he loved his boyfriend Takashi Shirogane, or Shiro. Or maybe its the first time his hope was completely twisted out of his grip by the Galra, as they mercilessly attacked his sister and mother right infront of him, before taking him prisoner. He was no stranger to pain, no stranger to the battle scars that came from war, as most weren't now. Especially not anyone on the Atlas, the war ship from earth that was changing the world with the Paladins of Voltron on board. 

Even now, he recalled past memories. The quietness of the world was never able to echo louder then his thoughts, because he has been doing this ever since he was a child. Fighting, losing, winning. But this would be different. It had to be, the fate of everyone was depending on it. 

you'll be looking at me when its over. 

i live for the battle, im a soldier, yeah. 

Theo recalled back to the time he stood infront of the crowd, infront of the stage. Not even a mere month ago, before they were leaving. Everyone was cheering, screaming, urging the people on that stage to go and save lives like they have done countless times before. It was truly chilling, awe inspiring, and it reminded him just exactly what he had to lose. 

That day, he didn't want to stand on that stage. It wasn't his to stand on, not when he was no paladin. Nor was he a Garrison soldier. Looking over in this vision of the past, he could see his little sister at his side, chin high up in the air, proud to know that while they weren't standing up there, they were cheering for them as well. The scars of their past battles, almost losing Shiro twice, it never would truly leave Theodore. Not even as he glanced down to flex the muscles on his hand, pale pastel blue markings peeking out from underneath like a reminder of his pain. 

His attention was returning to Riley, and then he was looking up at the stage. Where Shiro stood, where the other paladins stood, the ones he considered family. And it reminded him of how he almost lost them. 

Im a fighter like rocky, Put you flat on your back like Ali,

Yeah im the greatest, im stronger, 

Paid my dues, cant lose, Imma own ya, ay

Theo could remember the screaming and echoing pain in his muscles that day. When they reclaimed earth so many months ago, and the lions were plummeting straight down back towards the blue and green planet, and the only thing you could see was the coloured streaks flying across the sky. 

It was likely the stress of that situation, that caused his marks to suddenly go into overdrive. And before he knew it, he was crying out in pain, unable to handle it. He could hear Shiro in his ear, in those comms that were built into his helmet, yelling at someone, or something. And then silence for a moment, before he was whispering words of encouragement, trying to soothe his pain though he was unable to get there, to see him. To help him. He couldn't lose his kids, not now. No, not after all that Theo had been through. 

And when he was flying straight for the ground, he was unsurprised. Unable to do anything, to fly, because his whole body was cramping, spasming, all of his muscles attacking him for simply existing and caring. 

and then it was quiet, except for the exploding noise of the engine blowing.

i've been working my whole life, and now its do or die. 

i am invincible, unbreakable, unstoppable, unshakeable.

they knock me down, i get up again. I am the champion

​​​​​

"Theo? Hello? Earth to Theo?"

Theodore was stirring from his little flash back of the past, as he found a hand waving infront of his face. It was his little sister, Riley Savannah, who was dressed and ready to impress even though they were heading into battle. A black suit version of what Griffin and the other MFE fighters wore. He could only offer a smile, and a murmur of apology for spacing out. 

"Are you alright?"

Theo was then nodding. 

"Yeah. Come on, lets go. The sooner we get home, the faster we can come back to Hunk's amazing cooking."

His words were followed up by a brighter smile of reassurance, though Riley clearly was still skeptical of him, given the way she furrowed her brows in confusion at the way he was acting. So spacy, so odd. 

Turning to the side before he began to climb into the back of Griffin's MFE who would be dropping him off, while Riley headed off towards Laith's, he saw Shiro standing in the door way. Watching to make sure he got in safely, and even now, Theo found his heart pounding at the sight of him. 

you're gonna know my name, you cant hurt me now, i cant feel the pain, i was made for this, yeah. 

yeah i was born to win, i am the champion. 

Adam was standing there, inbetween the pair. Looking down at his tablet, as he was the one to moniter this mission. He no longer payed any mind when people stared at him for the many scars upon his face, or really anything else. They no longer mattered, not when he had people to fight for, more information and stories to teach to those younger generations before he finally would retire from the mantle of teaching. Glancing up, he saw Theo standing there, unmoving, despite one hand on the step to get into the ship. 

Then he was following his gaze, towards the door way, where their captain leaned against it. One another watching each other, completely in love. 

While it bothered him, seeing it now, it no longer pained him as much as it used to. Shiro was happy, and that was all that mattered to him, though he still swore Theo was out to get him, threatening him in dark corners of the ship when it was only the pair. 

Not that it mattered now, of course. 

Theo was going off into battle. Risking himself just for the sake of the mission to finally create peace in the universe. 

"Can you two please stop staring so Theo can leave, before we get behind on schedule?" 

When they write my story, they are gonna say i did it for the glory, yeah. But dont think i did it for the fame, i did it for the love of the game, yeah. 

And this is my chance im taking, all those old records im breaking.

"Yeah yeah yeah, im going, Adam." 

Came the quiet rumble from Theo, before he had a sly smirk on his face, directed at his lover. Saluting casually, before he was stepping in and sitting down. Glass shutting over, as he began to prep himself. Griffin in the front was running last minute checks, as the rest of the crew began to vacate the hangar. 

Adam and Shiro included, who had a direct passage to the bridge, so that they could lead this battle. The Lions had left a few minutes prior, and now Riley and Theo had to do their part. 

Get in the Galra cruiser, get all the information they could, and get out of there. 

​​​​​​Without getting hurt, though missions like these, they never always go according to plan, do they? That was something Theo had began to expect, ever since he joined the Paladins all that long ago. As a Galra soldier, nothing more then a toy for the commander of that ship, a previous labor worker and prisoner. But had it not been for that moment, the others showing up, he wouldn't be here, so he could only count his blessings as they took off. 

All you people watching on the tv, go ahead and put your bets on me, ay. I've been waiting my whole life, to see my name in lights. I am invinsible, unshakable, unbreakable, unstoppable. They knock me down i get up again. I am the champion. 

"Comms check, Fighters." 

"Riley here! Comms are working in my helmet." 

"Theo checking in, blessing you all with my precious voice."

Theo could only scowl, when the pilot of this ship, Griffin, snorted in amusement at his words. Clearly there was disbelief there, when Theo's voice was precious. Maybe not to everyone, but certainly to Shiro, who only sighed in annoyance at the bright orange screen infront of him that showed the others. 

The comms would work like so. Adam would moniter them on his tablet, hearing them in his headset. And if it was extremely important, they would switch channels to communicate directly with the Atlas and its commander. 

"Please! Like anybody finds that voice nice." 

"Sounds just like your piloting skills. Dont kill me, please."

"Hell of a lot better then you, Kai." 

"Once we get back to the hangar, be prepared for me to kick your ass and make you eat your words, Griffin." 

Theodore could only laugh when he heard Shiro over the comms, sighing angrily, and even louder then previously. It sounded like Adam and him were arguing about something, though what he couldn't quite tell. It didn't seem to matter however, as it was time for him to be dropped off, along with Riley. 

"This is your stop."

"Riley, Theo. Make sure you come home safe." 

Shiro's words were not to be taken in vain, because they were said with every ounce of caring in his body he could muster because it was true. If Theo didn't come home safe, he didn't know what he would do. 

"We will." 

Came the chorus of reply from Theo and Riley both, before they were dropping in. 

You are going to know my name, you can't hurt me now, i cant feel the pain, i was made for this, yeah i was born to win. I am the champion.

When they dropped into that Galra cruiser, it didn't take long for them to infiltrate it, finding a weak spot on the outside. Riley was the one to speak out, to inform Adam of their progress update since they were no longer on the main channel connected to the Atlas Command room, or Bridge as it was commonly called. 

They had a few moments of peace, as Theo stepped out from the vents they had just crawled out of. 

"It is oddly quiet.. something is wrong." 

It turns out they weren't wrong about that, or atleast Theo wasn't, because moments later he was being shot at by dozens of Sentries. A quick cry escaped his mouth, as he pulled Riley back into the vent, hurrying her along. Taking many twists and turns that almost made him dizzy and sick. And almost lost, as well. But then they were dropping out only a few halls away from the command room's doors, and Theo let out a sigh of relief. 

And then it began again. 

Sentries, soldiers, coming up to shoot at them. He and Riley pressed themselves against the wall for a few moments, before they began to attack. Theo was pulling his twin axes out from his waist, just as Riley pulled her large sword from its sheith on her back. 

Turning to each other with a nod, before they attacked. 

Running forward with war cries and to their credit, they did manage to fight their way through until they reached the command room. But that was as far as their luck went, because Riley let out a sharp cry. Sword almost being dropped, as one of their bullets grazed her side. Energy burning away the suit that was left there, leaving exposed and burning flesh, bleeding and terrible pain. 

Theo was not happy in the slightest at this. And he took the others out, before noticing the command room doors shutting. 

And he barely managed to slide through with one last look at Riley, before he was leaving her alone in the dark hallway. 

Born champion, Luda. The C is for the courage i possess through the drama. H is for the hurt but its all for the honor. A is for my attitude, working through the patience, Money comes and goes, so M is for the motivation. Gotta stay consistent, the P is for the persevere. I is for the integrity, for the innovative career. The O is for optimistic, open and never shut. The N is necessary cause im never giving up.

When Theo reemerged with the information required to fully end this mission, he was staggering forward. Command doors opening, and he was left forward to walk towards his sister. Taking her sword to place it back in its holder on her back, before he was using his shoulders to support her weight. 

She was tired, that much was evident by the way her weight pressed against him. In pain, losing blood. And it hurt him to see. The adrenaline of the situation was causing him to ignore the pain in his side, where you might not see it at first glance due to the black fabric, but he was heavily bleeding with a wound to his side. A sharp one at that, a cut due to a blade. Sticky from the blood in the suit, and he thought it felt terrible, but he ignored it. 

Instead switching his comm channels to the Atlas. Instead of Adam's little monitering chat.

"Wounded soldier, we need pick up now. Get your asses in gear and get over here." 

His tone left no room for argument, as he carried Riley to the hangar. When they got there, he was left to stare angrily at the sentries waiting for him and her, before gently setting her down. 

Whispering words of encouragement to stay awake. She just had too, he could not lose her. 

And then he was attacking, growing weaker by the moment. When the others arrived, he rushed over to Riley, before opening the hangar doors. Sucking both of them into space, where both MFE's were waiting to grab them, glass tops open. 

See, they ask me how i did it, i just did it from the heart. Crushing the competition, been doing it from the start. 

they say every champion is about their principles, Carrie!

When they arrived back at the Atlas, no one payed Theodore any mind, simply because they did not know he was hurt. Or how heavily he was actually bleeding, or anything. Instead, everyone flocked to his sister, who needed more medical attention then he did anyway. 

Taking a step out of the ship, to stand on the ground, it felt nice. When they rushed out, everyone in the hangar followed. Shiro was nowhere to be found, though that was expected, much like Adam still being gone. 

The Lions also required their attention, with their mission as well. 

And so, he was left to sway for a few moments, before he turned away from the hanger doors, and the ship he was leaning against unknowningly. Leaving behind a red bloody print. Glancing around the room, until he could stumble over to a pile of crates. 

Then he was dropping beside them, out of sight from the whole room where he could close his eyes and rest. Helmet abandoned off by the ship, though his orange phone was on him. 

That was ultimately how they found him. 

I am invinsible, unshakeable, unbreakable, unstoppable. They knock me down, i get up again. I am the champion. You're gonna know my name, You cant hurt me now, cant feel the pain. Yeah, i was made for this, i was born to win. I am the champion.

Theodore was far gone betime Shiro was able to leave the bridge. Having to stay for the lions, but assuming that Theo would join them not long after arriving, as he couldn't stay with his sisters for a few hours. And besides, once the lions would arrive, Lance would arrive like a hell storm and Theo would be set in his sights for letting his girlfriend get hurt.

Griffin had said he was in the hangar, before they took Riley away. That echoed in Shiro's mind, before he entered the hangar, glancing around. Most crew members were still away, doing their own things. 

And at first glance, he didn't notice the red bloody print upon the white and orange design of the MFE that belonged to Griffin. 

His phone was being pulled from his pocket, so that he could dial Theo's phone. 

And he froze when it began to ring, inside the hangar. He could only follow the sound, and it sounded so loud compared to anything else. Even his heart beating loudly in his ears, or the footsteps he was loudly making, or the slight buzzing from his arm. And it was like ice water was running through Shiro's veins, being chilled to the core as he made it around the corner to look into the pile of crates. 

And his heart broke. 

"Someone! Please, please get help! Anyone, please!"

Shiro was crying out loudly into the empty hangar, and it took a few moments for anyone to appear to see the commotion. Shiro lifting up his boyfriend, holding him close to his chest as he stumbled forward with him in his arms bridal style. Blood was soaking Shiro's outfit, and Theo looked deathly pale, and in a way he was. 

And Shiro never thought he would forget that sight, as someone took Theo from his arms. 

i'm the champion, yeah. Surpassed all the rivals, its all about who wants it the most. Fight for what we believe in, thats what champions are made of. 

When Theodore woke up the next day, his throat was dry. Scratchy, and he felt the pain in his side, along with a tightness there. Bandages wrapped up tightly, when he managed to lift his head far enough up to peak underneath the blanket. Weak, certainly. 

And when he glanced to his side, his heart broke because there sat his boyfriend, laying with his head down against the bed. Black circles already in his eyes, no doubt he stayed awake this whole time hoping Theo would pull through. Hand gripping Theo's, and he found himself smiling at that. 

And so, gently, he poked him. In the head, where all of his newly found grey hairs sat. 

Shiro was springing up a moment later, glancing around quickly in a panic, before Theodore caught his attention. He could only stare at him, in shock. Fear was in his eyes, terror. Happiness, sadness, so many mixed emotions, and he didn't know what to say or think. Only he could stare. When Theo made a motion for some water, only then did Shiro stir from his staring, getting up to hand him a glass before he was sitting back down. 

Tears were in his eyes, as he watched Theo take a drink. 

"How could you do that? Be so reckless? I almost lost you, Theo. I.. i dont know what i would have done without you."

Theo didn't know what to say at first, as he watched Shiro sob as he finally was able to release his emotions out from the whole event, because Theo was awake. His Theo. His lover, his boyfriend, his partner, his best friend. Space dad number two. 

And really, Theo didn't say anything. Instead pulling Shiro up with the little bit of strength he had, using his hand to pull Shiro's. Though he didn't fight it, so it was easier for him anyhow. Not aggravating the stitches on his side, wrapped in bandages. 

A kiss was placed on Shiro's lips, holding him there, hands coming up to be placed on his cheeks, to wipe away those tears that were breaking Theo's heart. 

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against Shiro's. 

"I am so sorry, my love. I have no intentions of going anywhere. I can't leave you with all those kids and recruits, now can i?" 

Shiro's only reply was a mix of a sob of terror, and a choking of laughter as he brought Theo in for another grateful kiss. 

I am the champion. okay yeah so here are the notes. 

originally this was just an idea, but then i thought of Theo sliding underneath a door, with Riley looking at him in terror and realized i needed to expsnd further on this. 

The champion song by Carrie Underwood has reminded me of all of the Paladins, and that is why i used it here. 

lmao despite knowing that none of them will see it, i do hope that josh keaton, bex taylor, kimberly brooks, steven yeun, jeremy shada, all of them know just what these characters mean to me. and what they inspire me to do. 

so yeah. 

hope you liked it. ~ @ruinvevo

[todancealongthelightofday]

Well.

It's official. I’m off facebook. I had to. I can't continue to hurt myself obsessing over what you're doing and what people are saying about me. I can't be worried about every post I make and who may get upset or how much of my personal life I accidentally reveal. I'm struggling with myself to not give into the temptation of being petty. I want to show every single one of those girls you added this week all of the screenshots I have of you being the absolute worst. I want to tell your family that you never “went so hard” on me because I was “pulling some shit”. that never happened and you know it. You sit alone, bored, with a dry phone and so you decide to “miss me” and apologize and make all these promises that things will be different. The same promises that ive heard 1000 times already. Nothing was ever different. Just last night, when you accused me of so many things, you yourself were lying to me. Your snap count keeps going up, yet you yell at me that you're not talking to anyone and you'll delete snapchat. Why would it matter if you deleted it anyway? you just redownload it when I'm not around, just like you always have. Thats the thing. The trust is gone. You've used it up. You've taken every bit of trust I have and shattered it. I can't even go to my hometown anymore because I don't know who I can trust. Who you've poisoned. I know you're not telling anyone what really happened. I assume you're spinning a narrative along the lines of “she couldn't handle me being gone all the time and she was being a bitch so we broke up” instead of “I was unfaithful the entire relationship because I have a sex addiction, but I stopped wanting sex with her a long time ago. I also stopped loving her the way she craved to be loved. I stopped kissing her. I stopped calling her beautiful. I stopped enjoying her company on the couch for a lazy movie day. I stopped appreciating her as she held down the fort while I went away for work and flirted and partied and ignored her. While I was gone, she was at work or at home. She was paying bills and calling plumbers and yard workers, and getting estimates on fence work and painters and floor replacements. She was cooking and cleaning and caring for our dogs. She was allowing others to stay in the house because they fell on hard times. She was rehabbing baby animals and getting broken glass doors replaced. She was doing everything she could to bring light and happiness to everyone (and every animal) she could. And she was doing it all while being neglected. Doing it all for me while I was going out and disrespecting her and our commitment.” I know thats not what you're telling them, but thats the story id really like people to know. I want them to know that I cried myself to sleep every night that I would call you before bed, after not talking to you all day, and you “had nothing to say. I just worked all day. I'm tired. goodnight”. I would cry on the bathroom floor when you would come home after 3 months and never kiss me or hug me. just walk past me and ask “who's coming over tonight? lets cook!”. I would spend hours steaming floors and dusting fans and washing blankets and shampooing carpets and then I would shower and dress up and do my makeup and wear my best outfit down to the panties, and you would just come home, have people over, get sloppy drunk, and pass out, leaving me to host until everyone left, clean the mess that 10 drunk people and a bbq is bound to leave, then crawl into bed at 4 AM. Then I would get up at 6:30 to start the morning routine. Dogs out. Feed cats. Let dogs in and feed them. Feed the fish and the tortoise. Let the dogs out again. Switch the laundry, unload the dishwasher. You would just lay in bed all day. If you got up, it was probably 2 or 3 in the afternoon and you'd sit on the couch and watch tv while I did your laundry and whatever other things needed to be done that day. I would beg you to come with me for Tyson’s vet appointment, and of course you'd say no. I’d tell you my family was having a crawfish boil and you'd say you were too tired or “dont feel like being around people”. But thats not true, was it. You just didn't want to be around those people. You were always ready to go to bars and drink and ignore me. thats the people you like. the ones that don't know you and that assume you're single because you haven't touched me or kissed me or danced with me once all night. But oh... if Claire wants to dance or if a guy starts talking to Leah, you're on that shit. Cant let YOUR eye candy get taken by some guy at a bar. Yet I was forced to break a mans nose. I was forced to defend myself, because when he disrespected me, you where nowhere to be found. Probably watching some girl, too distracted to know that a man was trying to hurt me. But doing worry. I dealt with it. Im stronger than you think. I made it through all that. I made it through so many nights of hating myself and questioning what I did wrong and why I wasn't good enough. What I could do to be good enough for you. I didn't leave when you invited Linzy to sleep in your bed and stoped coming visit because she would be bored alone if you left. I didn't leave when your snapchat was all women that you would snap all day long and never save anything so I could never see it. I didn't leave when you fixated on the idea of Sadie showing her tits in new Orleans while I stood right in front of you. I also didn't leave when, that same night, you “jokingly” grabbed at her chest and when we went home, your phone “accidentally got left in the bathroom standing up in a strange place and took pictures of her in the shower”. I didn't leave. I stayed and I believed you because for a day or two after an incident you would love me again. you would kiss me and hug me and have sex with me. Then as soon as I believed you, it would stop and you'd go back to your fuck boy shit. You'd go back to “being so tired” that you couldn't call me before bed but you had time to talk to Claire and invite her to your hotel room. You couldn't be bothered to give me the attention I had been begging for, but you could find time to snapchat my sister and “dare her to flash you as a joke”. Or what about the time you “accidentally” sent her a snap of your dick in the shower?! I am so angry and so hurt. Honestly I don't even remember what the point of this post was. Its gone from having a purpose to the words jus falling out of my heart and into my keyboard. I know I made the right choice. I saw something earlier that said “Sometimes you have to break your heart to find your peace” and honestly that is what im doing. Im so hurt and so scared and I feel small and lost, but after typing all these things, I remember why I left you. I know these negative feelings will pass and my life will get back on track and ill be happy and I know that one day I will find a man that knows how to love. A man that knows how broken I am and the trauma that iv gone through and he just supports me and loves me the way I've always wanted. So im deleting facebook so that I am no longer hurt by all the lies you're spreading and all the women you're fucking. Im choosing to fix me. I am choosing to stand myself up and climb out of this rubble and keep moving forward. Im choosing to start putting myself back together so that when that man finds me, im ready to let him hold me. Also, sorry to anyone that gets stuck reading this. It is word vomit on a page and I apologize for my shit writing and rambling. I just kinda let myself type whatever came out. This is my life. this is me. Well. its at least the tip of the iceberg of the hot mess that is me. 

[a-memory-of]

Ruran Vas was waiting for Ellere, as he said he would, though his tired form was slowly pacing. The light at his chest flickered on occasion. He looked up as she arrived. "Ah--g-good, you made it alright." As if he wasn't sure she would. As Ellere Valahan approached, she could see the armored figure pacing back and forth in the distance. "I believe I would know the way to this dusty old place in my sleep by this point," she breathed out, smiling. "Admittedly you caught me by surprise."

"I--I apologize." He looked down, weight shifting on the soles of his feet. "I had not expected I would ever find it." From his satchel, he pulled out one of the keys. It was not a typical 'key', per se, but rather a small pyramid-shaped stone with a blue crystal carved seamlessly at its point.

Ellere took a step forward, looking closer at the object. "Quite different than the other I remember. What a peculiar looking thing..." her hand curled at her chin. "Have you tested it upon the door?"

Ruran shook his head. "I did not wish to test it without someone with me. This place has...taught me caution." He put the key back into his bag, and Ari'doram flickered again. "L-let us head inside." "A fine lesson," she nodded her head and made to follow him. Ellere patted her own satchel, "But I shall look after you. Now, let us find your prize. I am sure you are eager."

He made a quiet, determined sound, but he did not admit more than that. He led her through the halls of Qarn--most of it familiar to Ellere by now. Over time, the tunnel to the labyrinth had been made wider by clearing more debris, and there were signs of Ruran's work outside. Parchments and scrawled maps, a lantern, a blanket for his occasional overnight stay. Ruran didn't talk much, focused on leading her along and focusing at the incoming task.

The labyrinth had been well-lit by torches on the wall, likely by Ruran's recent visit. Occasionally, there were interesting murals or debris that had caved into the maze of halls, but Ruran moved too quickly for her to mind them. Twists and turns, corners marked with chalk, until they finally reached a very long hallway that ascended upwards. "Up here," Ruran mumbled, heading up. Midway through, there was another hall; Ruran turned there, and a large door stood before them.

Ellere noted his far quieter and more serious demeanor, but could only assume it was the nature of their purpose here. She caught sight of familiar-looking murals, remembering their promise to see more of them when life would allow. The chalk too, another welcome and familiar sight. But it seemed Ruran had been busy since the last she had come. Ellere stopped at the foot of the door at Ruran's side, looking up and up. "It is still remarkable that much of this place has been left untouched..."

"There is undoubtedly much more yet to be found," he murmured, pulling his pack in front of him again. "But you are right. Much has been lost--buried. It is a miracle. Or...perhaps fate." The stone twinkled at that, and Ruran pulled his pack in front of him and opened the flap. He pulled out three keys, each one a little different from the other, but each of them contained a different color crystal embedded within. Blue, red, yellow. 

There were three indents on the door, each framed with a corresponding color, with lines that traced up the stone door and to its frame. It would be simple enough to assume that each key had to be placed in the matching color. Ruran stepped closer, one key in his hand. "I sense darkness within," he noted, looking over his shoulder, but it was more a warning for her than a new discovery.

Ellere watched him in silence a moment, eyes following his hands as he withdrew each key and approached the door. "Fate? You mean to say it was waiting for someone like you?" the question was mused aloud, more rhetorical than expecting an answer from it. His warning was not taken lightly, and she gave him a nod, "I am right at your side."

Ruran offered her a soft look, a small break away from his serious demeanor. He nodded once, took a breath, and then placed the first key. Green with green, and the patterns that lined the door lit up in the same hue. Ari'doram flickered, and Ruran did the same to the others. Red. Yellow. All three keys fit easily into their chambers, lighting up in turn until the door was framed in colorful lights.

A terrible grinding began to rumble, shaking age-old dust and some small debris from the nearby walls. The door crawled upwards, pull by ancient gears. Ruran placed himself slightly in front of Ellere, his hand at the hilt of his blade as he waited.

She watched, fascinated despite the circumstance. No matter how many places she had been, or the things she had seen, there was still a wonder in moments like this where the past came alive and she was reminded of old magic. As the door opened, she kept quiet, but alert, keenly aware of the weight her mother's starglobe on her back. She waited for the dust to clear, a spell already half formed on her lips in precaution.

The stone door slid upwards out of the view. As the dust settled, and they would soon be able to see what it had been hiding for so many years. Darkness. A tar-like substance gathered on the walls and floor, glistening from the light on Ruran's soulstone. There was a faint blue glow of ancient crystal lanterns on the wall, but they could barely be seen, for they too were covered in the strange black pitch. Ruran, cautious but not deterred, took a step forward.

The tar nearest him seemed to recoil against Ari'doram's holy light. The other side of the room could not yet be seen.

The room gave her pause, admittedly. When Ruran had spoke of darkness, Ellere had not assumed this was what he meant. "Twelve..." she shook her head. She had never seen anything like it. As he stepped forward, so did she, noting the way the dark substance avoided him and she knowing she had no such gift. "What is this? Have you seen such before?"

Ruran nodded. "Each stone thus far has been assailed by darkness... Stay with me. Do not allow it to touch you." As the masked man stepped forward, Ari'doram shone brighter, glaring against the darkness of the room and exposing more within. "I sense the stone," he mumbled to Ellere or Ari'doram or both.

At the far end of the room, there was a hulking mass covered in pitch black, roughly ten fulms tall and humanoid in shape. A large rectangular box sat behind it. The oozing darkness trembled with Ruran's every step, perhaps growing agitated from the disturbance.

Ellere furrowed her brow, but need not be told twice. She spared a glance down to their feet as they walked, making sure her steps were clear of the darkness. As she looked up again and saw the towering figure, she tensed, hand shifting to grasp the globe as needed. "The box, I would wager? And I would also bet that this thing will not simply let us pass."

Ruran's attention shifted to the box, his head canting slightly. He took another step forward, and then glanced back up again. "...No..." Something had changed in his voice--an echoing effect as if one tone was layered over another. His doubled words muttered behind his mask, near a whisper, and in an ancient language that she would not understand. Ruran seemed transfixed on the figure ahead. 

As he spoke, something in the center of the large figure shines. A similar golden light, high in its chest, smothered in the tar. A golem. Its stone now activated, the smothered golem began to move.

__________________________ With @weepingknight​

Worried eyes followed Ruran as he stepped forward. She could barely hear the whispered words, but they were nothing that made sense to her. Ellere had seen Ari'doram's influence take hold of him before, but even this seemed different. "All right then..." she breathed out, mostly to ready herself than in reply to him. Her weapon was fully drawn, the glove hovering over her outstretched hand. A flick of her wrist formed a barrier over him.

As Ruran took another step, a brave vine formed from a dark corner and attempted to seize his arm. However, Ellere's barrier would prove to be well-spent, and it would deflect off her magic shield and retreat back to the inky shadows. The golem, try as it may, could not move any further than it had. Its golden crystal heart crackled and sparked. "Closer," Ruran's voices muttered, staring forward. "We must get--..."

Another step. His light continued to shine, but the darkness was growing more agitated. More bold. It began to creep around them in a circle, pressing into the light's periphery and making the most of the shadow their bodies cast behind Ruran's stone by snaking forward.

Ellere kept her steps with his. Her attention was torn between him, the golem as it tried to move, and the darkness slowly surrounding them. Choosing the closer threat, Ellere turned on her heels back almost against Ruran's. She did not expect her aether to have the same effect as Ari'doram. But the barrier had worked before. Spreading her hands out, she formed a semi-circular shield covering the places his light did not fully reach. Ruran continued to be transfixed, his attention solely on the golem ahead of him, as if nothing else existed. More ancient words spilled from his lips, and he extended one hand. The golem's soulstone grew brighter, and some of the darkness had begun to retreat from its core. Not nearly enough.

The darkness seeped around Ellere's barrier, searching for an edge and slithering higher and higher. At this point, it had climbed about as high as her knees. Just beyond the barrier, in the dimness of the light, blobs of the tar-like substance had begun to rise up higher and take some sort of shape...

Ellere grit her teeth, extending the barrier out more and more. Such a thing would not last long, she knew. And as other shapes began to appear around them, Ellere glanced over her shoulder. As he was, she was not sure if he was even aware she was there. "Ruran dear, I do not mean to rush you," she tried, "But I believe we are about to have company."

The darkness continued to creep up her shield, now to her waist. The blob beyond it seemed to feed off her thoughts--her fears, or something more abstract. It slowly formed a figure of a slouching man, but below his waist, he had eight long, spindly spider legs. The more time it had to form, the more details that came to life. The inky figure solidified, now wearing a mask and armor, a darkened image of Ruran himself.

Ruran--perhaps hearing her, perhaps not--took another step closer to the golem. His eyes burned bright behind his mask, and the power from the golem's soulstone began to drift toward his hand, wind around his arm, and enter Ari'doram's stone.

Ellere narrowed her eyes, and gave a long sigh, "Well, that's a lovely sight..." Understanding Ruran was far too preoccupied, she set herself up to defend them both. Raising her hand, she extended the barrier further, up and around. And then with a bright pulse of unaspected light, she attempted to dislodge what was clinging to it.

The darkened form of the Ruran-like creature let out a screech as her magic shook off what its darkness had managed to cling to. Its mask fell, revealing a long face with mouth agape and eyes wide, all glowing red from within. With a garbled cry, it practically threw itself onto her shield, its form splatting back into dark ooze as it attempted to smother over her entire shield and constrict.

More of the light wound through Ruran and to his stone. As the golem's stone flashed again and dispersed more darkness from it, more of its stone body could be seen. Deep runes were carved into its rocky surface. Runes not unlike the very ones carved into Ruran's skin. "I...I finally see..." Ruran says breathlessly, still unaware of the very precarious situation they were in.

That sight would likely be burned into her mind for some time, flinching as the force struck against her barrier. Flickers of light flashed along the edges, weakening points. Ellere collapsed the star globe back into it's holster, splaying her hands outward and nearly against the barrier itself to weave it more firmly. The force was shrinking it, she could feel it constricting around the two of them. -

A voice from behind her made her spare a glance at Ruran, the blinding light making her squint. Whatever he saw, she could not. But his voice alone helped her to keep the barrier strong.

The space grew tighter and tighter, thin cracks beginning to web across the barrier. Another thud pounded against the dome, but the shadows surrounding them prevented Ellere from seeing what it was. And then again. And again.

Just when it seemed the shield would give way, the golem's soulstone burst from its chest. Now freed, it surged toward Ruran, all at once. Its crystal shattered, forming light that encompassed him. He staggered backwards, stopped by Ellere's back against his. The knight let out a haggard gasp, his eyes wide, and the holy light exploded from him too.

The rays burst past her barrier and shred through the darkness that resided in the chamber, purging every ilm of the room until there was none of the ooze left. 

The threat was gone. Just the two of them, standing in the ancient room. The crystal lanterns on the wall could now illuminate their surroundings. The large, rune-carved golem stood before them, now a statue without its soulstone, and the tar-covered box had actually been a prominent and impressive Belah'dian coffin. Various artifacts lay on small pedestals along the wall, where more murals had been etched.

Ruran stayed on his feet but swayed, his sea-green eyes distant. Occasionally, they sparked with gold.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Sam Wilson x Reader

It wasn’t hard to understand why Sam was a little bit out of it. Tony and Natasha were gone and well the same could mostly be said for Steve. But you couldn’t truly put your finger on what was causing him to get so stuck in his mind and he wouldn’t fess up either. He’d kiss your cheek mechanically and he’d lay in bed and you’d swear that you could hear the gears in his head grinding as he thought and thought and thought some more for hours into the night. But what in god’s name was he thinking about? 

Sam was usually never like this. He was a smart man, he thought and reflected on things and he took losses hard but this was different. There seemed to be a weight on his shoulders and he didn’t know what to do with it. You didn’t know what to do with it either. It was rare when he didn’t come to you with the things he was struggling with. You’d prided yourself on always knowing what was going on in his beautiful brain.

Your boyfriend was a man that liked to share his thoughts and heart and lately hed been closing you off from both. He seemed far away. Typically hed be stuck to you like glue, peppering kiss along your jaw before giving you a sloppy kiss on the cheek that reduced you to giggles. But now he hardly seemed to be around, he was always out with Bucky, the liar loved that guy like a brother no matter how much bickering they did. He’d found his purpose again with the avengers but you were a tad needy, you wanted to sit on the couch with him in his lap and kiss his nose and look at his pretty eyes for a while. 

Tonight though you waited up for him and when he was home you made sure to be right there, the first thing he saw. He raised his eyebrows in greeting and leaned in to give you a quick kiss. You threw your arms around his neck and kept him there as you slanted your lips against his. You lightly ran your nails down his back and you felt him shiver. Sam’s hands went down to grab your ass before going down to your thighs so he could pick you up, your legs winding around his waist. He took a few steps back and carried you into the kitchen, setting you on the counter. 

Then he let go and then he put an arm’s length between you after another tiny peck. You pouted as he turned to rummage through the fridge, grabbing a beer. He turned back and smiled at you and you couldn’t pout anymore because his smile was the sun and there were no rooms for clouds. You didn’t say anything about your worries not fitting into the cracks. 

“Are you going to talk to me?” You asked as he started to leave. 

“About?” He asked airily, paused in his tracks but no longer meeting your eye.

“I know you as well as you know me and if I was acting the way you’ve been acting you would sit me down and not let me move until I told you how I was feeling, you know what I’m talking about Sam,” He sighed and ran his hand down his face. He met your gaze and you thought for just a second he would tell you before he shook his head just the smallest bit. 

“Not tonight, please Y/N, it’s nothing,”

Ouch. You don’t know why it stung but it did. He felt far away and you were trying to pull him back but he didn’t want to come back it seemed.

Gritting your teeth you hopped off the counter and stormed to your room, “Fine.” Was all you said and you know it was childish but you just hated knowing something was going on and he wouldnt let you in or let you help. 

You heard him groan and inhale deeply and you knew he was struggling with it too. You two didn’t do secrets and you knew it was bugging him as much as it was bugging you. But that almost made it worse because what could it possibly be that was making him so unresponsive? He could tell you anything and you’d never turn him away, you’d never leave him vulnerable, youd do your best to help him feel better. 

He knew that too. Or you hoped he did. Had you done something to make him doubt you? You crawled under your sheets and wrapped them tight around your shoulders. You were desperate to block out the negative aura that seemed to float around Sam’s head and now yours. Maybe this was your fault somehow and he didn’t want to talk to you about it. Maybe he would rather confide in someone else, anyone else. Was there someone else?

You sniffled, quickly wiping at your face when you heard that one spot right outside the door creak under Sam’s weight as he entered the bedroom. You listened to the dresser drawers opening and closing as he grabbed his pajamas, the subtle rustle of him removing what hed had on before. If only he could do that with whatever was on his mind. 

Maybe you were that thing. Maybe he was tired of your relationship. Why else would he suddenly be so far in his head? You chewed on your lip and shut your eyes tighter to trap the tears that wanted to build. You were worried and confused and you didn’t like the way your insecurities were gripping your chest and making it hard to breathe. One voice screamed that you were the problem, Sam was done and the other more rational one beat you down because you weren’t the issue, don’t make yourself more important than his actual problems, you couldn’t possibly understand. 

The sink in the bathroom turned off and a moment later the sheets were being turned down as he climbed under. He was on his back, his arms folded over his stomach. It was how he always fell asleep. It would be so easy to roll over on to your other side, tangle your legs with his, duck your head underneath his chin and find comfort in the physical closeness. But your limbs wouldn’t move. Your fingers twitched, desperate to grab a hold of something that would calm your anxiety. 

You felt foolish about your feelings. You weren’t struggling, Sam was. You were fine, Sam wasn’t. Help him. Don’t be selfish. You brought your knees up to your chest and your arms tighter around yourself. 

“You cold?” Sam spoke suddenly.

You had to clear your throat, your thoughts choking you up. “No, I’m good, more comfortable this way,” You spoke quietly and to the closet. You had to remind yourself that it Sam did hear you, he was only half a foot away, probably less. 

Sam shifted, his warmth at your back as he snaked an arm around your waist, tugging you back against him. You let your legs relax, letting them stretch out and intertwine with his, one of your hands grabbing his. You let out a shaky sigh and he pressed a feather light kiss just behind your ear. 

“It’s about work, not you,” Sam said and you knew he meant it to ease your worry. It was probably a tangible thing that hung over you at this point. You didn’t mean to parade your feelings so obviously, didn’t mean to make him more upset by showing you were upset. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Was your automatic reply even if it wasn’t the correct one. 

Sam’s arms loosened for just a moment so he could tug you onto your other side to face him and then they became secure again. You let your eyes flutter closed as he brushed his nose against yours. One of his hands came to tangle in your hair and you sighed at the gentleness. 

“You don’t have to be sorry Y/N... There’s nothing to be sorry for, I’ve been avoiding the hell out of you, I should be the one apologizing.” 

Those tears were going to start springing up again. He was avoiding you, of course he was he didn’t want to talk to you. It still hurt to hear though. You could tell Sam felt you tense up because he gently kissed your cheeks while rubbing circles into your hip at a steady pace. 

“You might not want to talk about it but I have to be honest, you’re freaking me out. I get it’s about work but when has that ever stopped you from talking to me? Maybe I am being selfish or not understanding but what is making you this way? What is weighing so heavily on you that you feel like you can’t tell me? I-is there someone else? I know I’m not a part of what you do, I know I cant always understand but I swear I’ll try harder to just give me something Sam. Whatever it is or w-whoever, I can do better, be better....” You choked out. He’d gone terribly still.

“Are you kidding me Y/N? You think that I would do that to you?” You shook your head and he looked so hurt you wanted to take it back. You weren’t comforting him at all and you hated yourself for it. 

“I’m sorry but what else could it be?” You said, frustrated and tired of the gap you felt between you. 

“Jesus... Fine, fine. Steve gave me his shield. That’s a lot of fucking pressure so sorry if I didn’t give you enough attention this week, I’ve had a lot more on my mind than you...” If the past couple days hadn’t hollowed out your chest that for sure did. 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that,” He added softly after a moment of quiet. 

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for pushing so much, I’ll leave it be,” You kept your reply short, tried to banish the tremor from your voice because you shouldn’t be allowed to feel hurt when he had a lot on his mind. 

“No, come on... I don’t want you to leave it be. I should’ve mentioned this sooner,” 

“I’m not entitled to know, it’s up to you,”

“I want you to know though Y/N. Don’t act like this please... You know now, isn’t that enough? Talking about it makes it more real and that’s scary. Steve’s one of my best friends but I don’t know if I can fill those shoes...”

You took a steadying breath and cupped his cheeks in your hands. “You’re right, I’m sorry for getting snappy. It is a lot but you are Sam fucking Wilson. Even right now I can see that it’s something you want to do, even if youre scared. You’re so capable and strong and you're a hero. What can’t you do?” 

He smiled a little. “What if they don’t want me? You know.... the public. Steve is their poster boy. I’m not exactly the guy they picture when you mention Captain America.”

“There has been so much chaos recently, all you avengers are the peace in that chaos and people look up to all of you. It’s not Steve they see when they see the shield. It doesn’t matter who is wearing the suit, it’s enough for them that someone is in that position, ready to defend and protect them. You already do that, love. You can do it,” 

“Why didn’t I go to you sooner, huh?”

“It’s okay, I didn’t make it easy,” 

“Neither did I but thank you sweetheart, this helped,” Sam kissed you firmly. 

“I’m glad. And don’t put too much pressure on yourself, whatever you choose things will work themselves out,” 

He nodded and tucked his head in the crook of your neck. It was late and you were sure hed been exhausting himself with this, guilt creeping up again because you hadn’t been as understanding as you could have been. 

“Oh!” You said a moment later after some thinking of Sam’s predicament, “I support you whichever you choose of course, just know that if you do take this on, I am not calling you captain in bed,” 

[iwa-chans-biceps]

Paper Crown |Selfish | MYG x reader

//Angst//

Everyone knew her, somehow. Whether it was by the girl in the back, Yoongi's friend, or, simply, her. Few actually remembered her name. But she never expected much more from them. It was always like that. 

But, i guess you could say now, she could be known as Yoongis former friend or really, no one at all. She wasn't someone. She was a disappointment. She caused harm no matter where she went, and she knew that. That's why she never planned on getting friends. She would let them down from the expectations they held of her and leave. They always leave in the end, hell, you cant spell friend with out "end". They'd be happier without her disrupting their lives. She wouldn't have to depend on anyone, not again, at least. She used to depend on her parents, but they left her too. 

She never planned on being friends with Yoongi. She knew it would end roughly, just as it had, eventually. But, he was so persistent, so nice, in the beginning. She grew attached. She grew dependent. She needed him, and she thought he needed her too.

He left her standing in her own living room, tears progressively rolling down her cheeks.

"Honestly!" He stands up, frustrated with the girl, who was previously leaning on his shoulder, "Can you stop whining for once?! I came here to tell you something big that's going on in my life and you're sitting there being selfish instead of supporting me!"

"I do support you. You're an amazing mu-" Her words weren't taken in by the male, as he kept ranting.

"I'm glad I'm doing this, i wont have to see you as much anymore! You're so annoying and you follow me everywhere! I've done nothing but protect and care for you, and this is what you do?!" He finally looks at her, waiting for some sort of reaction, waiting for her to cry or stand up and fight back. Hell, he was even waiting for her to apologize and tell him she supports him no matter what. Anything, even if she begged for their friendship. But he did not like her response at all.

She smiled, "Don't worry. You wont have to see me anymore." She spoke so softly, he almost didn't hear her. Yoongi scoffed, slipping his shoes on and grabbing his jacket, "Wont that be a miracle. I never want to see you again." Those were his last words as he slammed the door behind him as he left. Her smile was so genuine. Her words were so honest. He hated it. Why couldn't she have just fought back? 

Yoongi was already on a bus and a few miles away from the girls house before he thought of what she actually said.

She climbed out of her fire escape, slowly trekking her way up the stairs on the side of her building to the very top. A few stairs away, she remembered her door was unlocked, but shrugged it off and kept climbing. She crawled onto the roof and made her way to the other side, looking up at the sky full of brightly lit stars. 

"Yoongi, don't you think we'll get in trouble up here?" She asked the slightly older man who had dragged her onto the buildings roof with a blanket in his hands.

"We'll deal with it later. Come on, the view is nice." He opened the blanket, spreading it out on the roof top before sitting down and patting the spot next to him. The girl hesitated before seeing his smile. His smile always got her to do whatever he wanted. She trailed over, sitting next to the boy, noticing his smile get wider. He laid back, tucking an arm behind his head, laying the other out for the girl. She laid back too, feeling comforted by the male. His eyes trained on the sky, before moving his gaze to the girl in his arms. But, she wasn't looking back at him, she was admiring the view above. Her eyes sparkled with the reflection of the sky.

Yoongi was content with the view next to him, rather than above him. He dragged her up here to see the stars, but anyone could see those stars any night. Not everyone could see the star next to him, bathed in the moonlight. He couldn't understand why no one wanted to befriend her. She was amazing. Honest about his music, letting him know when she thought something could be changed, when the melody could be softer or louder. She was everything he ever wanted in a friend and often thought about asking her to be something more. 

"Yoongi," She spoke, her eyes never leaving the sky.

"Mmm?"

"It's beautiful, the view."

"Yeah," He let out a soft breath and smile, his eyes never leaving the girl, "Yeah, it is."

She shook her head of the thoughts as she moved to the lip of the building, standing up on it and staring at the sunset with her hands stuffed in her pockets.

She moved her gaze to the ground below. Cars passing by in a hurry to get home for an early rest. Tomorrow was friday after all. Some pedestrians walking about. She shouldn't have ever let Yoongi come into her life. She closed her eyes, clear liquid slipping out.

The girl pushed her (h-c) hair behind her shoulder before continuing to play and managing to press the wrong key a few moments later. She huffed out of frustration and started over. But someone interrupted her. Her head flipped back faster than she intended and feared if she just gave herself whiplash. She didn't have much time to think though, as the person spoke.

"That was really good, at least, until you pressed the wrong key." He chucked lightly, to let her know he was just messing around, "I'm Min Yoongi." He stuck out his hand, but she never took it.

He had cute cheeks, the perfect ones a distant aunt would pinch when visiting, and a nice smile. It was large and showed his gums cutely. The school uniform looked nice on him and his hair was bleached, despite school regulations. It looked nice on him. But the girl merely glanced at his hand before turning away and placing her fingers on piano keys, "I don't care. It would be appreciated if you left, though." She didn't wait for an answer and started to play once more.

The next day when the girl made her way to the practice rooms, she opened the door only to see a certain bleached hair male in front of the piano, playing a melody she knew. The same one she was playing the day before. The same one she wrote.

The girl cleared her throat, to get his attention. His fingers never stopped moving on the keys as he spoke, "Mmm? Is there a problem?"

"You're in my seat. This practice room is mine."

"Ah," He finally quit playing and turned to face her, "I didn't see your name on it." He smiled at her, showing off his gums once more.

"Id like it if you left." She took off her bag and waited for him to move. He stood up, going over to his own bag, and instead of picking it up to leave, he unzipped it and pulled out a paper bag. He turned, placing the bag on the piano seat, beside the girl and zipped up his bag, placing it on his back. He opened the bag he placed down and handed it to the girl. She furrowed her brows, looking inside. It had a sandwich, a drink, and a few other snacks. She looked back up at the boy with even more confusion.

"You look too thin. You should eat more." Was all he said before waving and leaving the room.

He showed up everyday after that, giving her food and asking how she was doing so far in the day. He hugged her when it looked like she needed one, even if she protested, and complemented her whenever he had a chance. Eventually he started walking her home to make sure she made it safe and stopped by her house in the mornings to walk together, after seeing a few students gang up on her. He had fought them off and never left her side since, other than when he really had to. Like going back to his own house, the bathroom, and places like that. 

His mom had noticed him alot happier since moving to the school and decided to quit the job she had that made her move around so much for him to be able to stay. She got another one though, one where she could stay in place.

Yoongi used to be depressed, so far his mother didn't believe he'd ever come back. Anti-depressants and therapists didn't work. So, whatever it was at this school that took him back to the real world, she hoped it would stay. He was still sluggish and blankly staring at nothing with his eyes glazed over, but it happened less often and it wasn't as bad. She noticed he had thrown his razor blades away and no fresh lines had made its way onto his skin. She was happy. She owed her entire being to whatever fixed her son.

She let out a choked sob, trying to catch her breath. She's done this many times, but the thought of Yoongi always pulled her away from the ledge and back into the safety of her apartment. But now, the thought of Yoongi was pushing her forwards.

"Don't worry." She whispered to the empty air around her, a small smile crept onto her face, despite the tears, "You wont have to see me anymore." She took a deep breath before closing her eyes and leaning forwards until her converse no longer touched the surface.

Yoongi jumped out of the bus seat, not caring about the glares from the passengers as he yelled for the driver to stop the bus.

Seeing the tears in the males eyes, the driver halted instantly, asking the boy what was going on. But he never got an answer as Yoongi ran off the bus, sprinting to his previous destination.

She wouldn't. She wouldn't. She wouldn't.

That's all that went through the crying boys head as he ran, but what really scared him, was that she would. 

Yoongi was never much of a runner, he hated physical exercise. But the thought of the broken girl doing something you cant take back because of him... well, it left him sprinting faster than before.

It was an agonizing run. Was he too late? Did he take too long? He pounded loudly on her door. No answer. He tried the handle, it was unlocked. Barging in, she was no where to be seen. He jogged around the apartment, finding her phone laying face down on the kitchen counter. He smiled fondly at the picture in the case. It was a polaroid of her and him, a couple of Yoongis other friends in the background, bombing them. His hyung, Seokjin, had taken this picture when Yoongi had finally managed to drag the girl out to the beach to meet his friends. Flipping the phone over, her screen lit up. A picture of the stars from the day Yoongi dragged her up there.

He almost dropped her phone when he realized something. Leaving the device on the counter, he scrambled through the open window and onto her fire escape. Despite the burn in his legs from running there, he ran up those stairs faster than he thought was possible.

Climbing onto the roof, his heart stopped. There she was, in all her glory. She glowed perfectly in the sunset, he saw tears roll down her cheeks as she spoke to herself, "Don't worry. You wont have to see me anymore."

His breath hitched. He was right when he thought over those words on the bus. There was another meaning behind them.

He wanted to yell out at her, tell her he never meant it. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He never got to say it. He thought about what her reaction would be when he pulled her down from the ledge and said those three words. When Yoongi looked back up at the girl, she was already leaning forward.

"NO!" He ran towards her, leaning over to grab her. Her converse slipped right through his fingers. If she had heard him scream, she didn't show it. He watched her fall, almost in slow motion. A small smile adorned her face with her eyes closed. She looked peaceful. But that didn't stop Yoongi from being selfish. He didn't want her to look peaceful right now. He wanted her next to him. He wanted her to stay. He didn't want her to leave him. He watched her hair swirl around her face until she stopped falling all together. Yoongi fell back, onto the roof, burying his head in his knees as he sobbed and remembered the reason he yelled at her in the first place.

Yoongi had been happy all day. She wanted to know why, but he decided to wait to tell her as he slipped his hand into hers, walking out of the school. The girl didn't question the hand holding, Yoongi always liked skinship with her, hell, even she liked it. But, she also had something to tell. 

Arriving at the apartment, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, Yoongi followed. The first thing they did was homework, then settled on the small couch, on seperate ends. 

"Alright," She smiled, "Tell me now." 

Yoongi smiled at her excitement, "Alright, so you know how i sent out my music last month?"

She nodded with wide eyes, expecting his next words.

"Well," Yoongi tried to suppress the over excitement he had bubbling, "A company contacted me. I'm going to be a trainee!" 

"Yoongi that's amazing! Oh my god, I'm so proud!" She bounced from her side over to his and enveloped him in a tight hug. Once their session was over, she settled beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and opted on playing with his fingers.

"I have something for you too, it's in my backpack, hold on." She went to stand, but Yoongi pulled her back down.

"I'm not done. I'm moving to Seoul for it."

She instantly frowned, "You're leaving? When?"

"In two days."

"Two-?" She sighed, "I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here with me. I want you with me. But you deserve to go, you're talented."

But Yoongi didn't care to hear that last bit, "Honestly!" He stands up, frustrated with the girl, who was previously leaning on his shoulder, "Can you stop whining for once?! I came here to tell you something big that's going on in my life and you're sitting there being selfish instead of supporting me!"

"I do support you. You're an amazing mu-" Her words weren't taken in by the male, as he kept ranting.

"I'm glad I'm doing this, i wont have to see you as much anymore! You're so annoying and you follow me everywhere! I've done nothing but protect and care for you, and this is what you do?!" He finally looks at her, waiting for some sort of reaction, waiting for her to cry or stand up and fight back. Hell, he was even waiting for her to apologize and tell him she supports him no matter what. Anything, even if she begged for their friendship. But he did not like her response at all.

She smiled, "Don't worry. You wont have to see me anymore." She spoke so softly, he almost didn't hear her. Yoongi scoffed, slipping his shoes on and grabbing his jacket, "Wont that be a miracle. I never want to see you again." 

Yoongi was given all of the girls belongings. He was all she had. A few students from school had shown up to her funeral, Yoongi scoffed at them and all the nice words they said about the girl. Last he checked, they hated her for an odd reason he didn't know. They bullied her. They hurt her.

...

But he hurt her worse.

Yoongi stepped out of the van, following his fellow members into the hotel. They all dropped their belongings and flopped onto the beds, other than Yoongi. He was tying his shoes.

"Hyung?" Taehyung spoke from his spot on the bed, "Where are you going?"

The younger boy caught the attention of the rest of the members attention.

"I..." Yoongi thought for a second, "I have somewhere i need to be." He opened the door.

"Yoongi-ah." Seokjin spoke up, stopping the boy, "Can i come too?"

The male looked distant for a moment before meeting the olders eyes and nodding.

"Can i come too?" The youngest jumped up excitedly.

"No, Jungkook... it's personal."

He frowned but nodded anyway. Seokjin slipped on his shoes and followed Yoongi out.

The two boys were silent as they walked. Yoongi stopped suddenly outside an apartment, his eyes glued to a spot on the sidewalk. A very empty part of the sidewalk.

Seokjin rubbed the youngers shoulders as he suddenly sniffed. The two took the stairs to a certain apartment. The spare key was still behind a fake plant outside the door. He let out a breath before entering. Seokjin followed him in, shutting the door behind him.

Everything was left exactly the same as the night it happened, other than the thin layer of dust on everything. He continued to pay for the apartment even after he moved to Seoul to become a trainee. He didn't want to let everything go. Hell, his backpack was still rested against hers on the floor by the coffee table. Her phone lay where he left it when he understood where she went.

Wait. Backpack. His eyes trailed to the two backpacks on the floor.

"I have something for you too, it's in my backpack, hold on." She went to stand, but Yoongi pulled her back down.

Yoongi sat on the floor beside the bags, ignoring the black one with "MIN" embroidered on it, but instead pulling the white one with "LEE" embroidered on it. Seokjin watched him.

Yoongi let out a breath, unzipping the bag and pulling everything out, until he got to a thick binder labeled "Min-sic" with music notes around it. The boy smiled unconsciously at the cover before opening it. Inside was a paper and a small MP3 player. 

Yoongi read the paper over, not once, not twice, he didn't even know how many times. He started to cry as Seokjin came towards him and hugged him for comfort. It wasn't just a paper. It was a letter. A letter to him. A letter to him about how she felt. It was a confession letter.

Pressing play on the MP3, that he was shocked still worked, a familiar sound played through. The piano song she played on the day he met her. But this time, her vocals were in it and it was made a full song. She always had a lovely voice. He didn't know she did this.

A paper crown And a heart made of glass A tattered gown And her kingdom of ash She walks alone She can never look back The story of a queen whose castle has fallen to the sea...

Yoongi sobbed as he saw what was left in the binder. "I really fucked up, didn't i?" He choked out in Seokjins shoulder.

In the binder were two cut out pieces of paper. One said "King", the other "Queen".

Paper Crowns.

[bittysvalentines]

Love in the Morning

From: @ivecarvedawoodenheart

To: @amessnamedwidogast

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2461

I hope you like it!! I had a really good time with this :) Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Summary:

“Don’t you dare, you had better not, I’ll call your dad and the press, I’ll tell ‘em—” “I think ‘Jack Zimmermann helps out teammate with checking drills’ would be a good headline, actually. I give you my blessing.” “Not when you’re threatening to pour water all over me you big ole—” “‘Big ole’ what, exactly?” ___________________________

Zimbits, from Bitty’s POV. Focusing primarily on waking up in the morning.

(AO3)

Someone throws a pillow at his face. Bitty jolts upright, looking around wildly, almost falling out of bed. It better not be — oh Lord, he’s gonna murder him —

“Bon matin, Bittle.”

Bitty check his watch and screams internally.

“Jack, were you dropped as a child? Is that why you feel the need to force me out of bed at four in the morning?”

He thinks Jack raises his eyebrows. It’s hard to be sure when it’s so dark in here, but the vaguely Jack-sized blob in the doorway gives off a distinctly amused vibe.

“My uncle Wayne did, actually,” Jack says. “My parents forbade him from holding me until I could do backwards crossovers.”

“Mmph.” Bitty closes his eyes and pulls his blankets up under his chin. “Go bother Shitty, Mr. I’m-Friends-With-NHL-All-Stars. I have a test today.”

Jack says, “That was yesterday, Bittle.”

“I could have another one today, Zimmermann.”

“You, having a test and not tweeting about it? Impossible.”

Bitty cracks open an eye at that. “It’s too early for you to be chirpin’ this much,” he says, but he swings his legs out of bed and lets Jack bundle him off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wake up somewhat. They’re on their way to the rink, Bitty in an oversized Pens sweatshirt because he couldn’t find one of his in the dark, before he realizes that means Jack reads his tweets.

____________

“I’m asleep, my eyes are closed, go away Jack, can’t you see I’m sleeping—”

“You’d be much more convincing if you weren’t talking, Bittle. You’ll have time after to take a nap, let’s get at it—”

“Oh my god . ‘Let’s get at it’? Are you actually eighty years old—”

“Yes, okay, Old Man Zimmermann, ha ha, that hasn’t been played out. If you really want to make fun of me you’ll get your butt to the rink, that’ll really show me.”

Bitty scowls at him when they get to the locker room. Jack laughs, just once, and it’s so surprised and quick a sound that Bitty almost misses it. He wants to hear it again.

____________

Midnight, and there’s a knock at his door. Bitty presses Señor Bun tighter to his chest and wipes his eyes hastily, catching his French book before it slides to the floor. “Yeah?”

“Can I … can I come in?”

The door makes it difficult to hear, but he thinks it’s Jack. He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip. Then he forces himself to perk up as best he can.

“Of course! Why’re you up? It’s so late.”

Jack eases the door open and shut behind him. Bitty watches him scan the room, taking in the flashcards strewn across his bedspread and his laptop. He wishes he hadn’t left it open on Google Translate.

Jack rubs the back of his neck. A little sliver of his shirt rides up, and Bitty knows this shouldn’t be anything — they’ve all seen too much of each other in the locker room — but it’s almost too much on top of everything. His hair sticks up in all directions. Bitty holds Señor Bun tighter to keep from crossing the room and making his hair even wilder.

“Your light’s still on,” Jack says. He looks so unsure of himself here. Bitty’s not sure he’s ever been in his room outside of waking him at godforsaken times in the morning. “I wanted to, euh. Make sure everything’s okay.”

“I’m fine,” Bitty says quickly. Jack shoots him an unimpressed look, first nodding to Bitty’s flashcards, then raising his eyebrows at the clock. “Well. Not quite okay, but. I will be fine, which is what matters.”

Jack still doesn’t look like he believes him, but when he crosses the room to sit on the bed, his face softens. He picks up a flashcard with le fromage written on it. “You’re learning food words?”

“Oui,” Bitty says. Even that has such a pronounced twang to it. He sighs. “I’ll be honest, it’s not going great.”

He’s fiddling with the card now, flipping it back and forth, playing with the corners. Bitty watches him gather the rest of the flashcards in a neat stack and shuffle them.

Jack says, “I can quiz you,” and Bitty’s about to cry again.

He wipes his eyes. “You don’t have to.”

It must catch in his voice, because Jack looks up then. His eyebrows crease. “I mean — I don’t want to overstep, but. I do speak French, so.”

“Oh do you?” Bitty asks, and Jack rolls his eyes. He tosses a card at him and le jus hits him in the Adam’s apple. Bitty swallows reflexively.

He doesn’t think he imagines how Jack watches him.

Jack bumps their knees together. “If you want,” Jack says softly. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Bitty whispers. He clears his throat. “If you’re fine with how badly I’m going to pronounce these words, that is.”

“I’ll live,” Jack says.

Bitty smacks him with his pillow, and he laughs quietly. A little thrill runs through Bitty at the sound.

“Okay, Bittle,” Jack says. “Let’s do this.”

____________

In the morning, Jack yawns loudly in the faint morning light and says, “Up and at ‘em, let’s go—”

“You can’t be serious,” Bitty says, grumpy. “We were up the whole night doing flashcards and you took up the whole bed, I didn’t get to sleep for a second.”

“That’s a lie, you snored the whole time, I didn’t—”

“You and your big ass stole all the blankets, I couldn’t’ve snored because I have to be asleep for that—”

“Couldn’t’ve? Are you joking—”

Jack goes on a rant about how difficult it is to understand him, and then how hard it must be to understand either of them, and then segues into a scheme to confuse everyone next time they come back from a break and their accents are stronger. Bitty chimes in now and then. Mostly, though, he drinks in how this feels: Jack in his bed, flashcards still everywhere — there’s one stuck to Jack’s cheek now, he thinks it’s les fraises — and his eyes still sleep heavy.

Bitty wants this so badly he outright gasps in the middle of Jack’s sentence.

“You okay, Bitty?”

“Fine,” he says, trying to push the feeling aside. “You’re kidding though, right? About checking practice today?”

Jack holds out a hand in a may I? gesture that Bitty doesn’t understand until he pouts, glancing at Señor Bun. Bitty hands him over tentatively. Jack tucks Señor Bun neatly under his chin, cuddling him with his eyes closed, and this all but knocks the air out of Bitty.

“‘M joking,” Jack says. Beneath the covers, Bitty feels him gently nudge his side with an elbow. “‘M tired. Bonne nuit.”

“No French when I’m trying to sleep, Mr. Zimmermann,” he says softly. Jack nudges him again.

He drifts off. In his dreams, he sees Jack holding Señor Bun like he’s something precious.

____________

Bitty has Canadian bacon on the stove when Jack stumbles downstairs. He quietly pours himself some orange juice, then Bitty feels rather than sees him join him at the stove.

“There’re some eggs in the fridge,” Bitty says, “if you wanna do somethin’ with them.”

He bumps his shoulder against Jack’s chest just to touch him and prove to himself that they’re standing here, together. Jack’s golden in the dewy morning sun.

“Your checks are getting better,” he says then, and Bitty says, “Oh, shush, you.”

Jack scrambles some eggs and fries some, and it’s peaceful between them.

____________

“Don’t you dare, you had better not, I’ll call your dad and the press, I’ll tell ‘em—”

“I think ‘Jack Zimmermann helps out teammate with checking drills’ would be a good headline, actually. I give you my blessing.”

“Not when you’re threatening to pour water all over me you big ole—”

“‘Big ole’ what, exactly?”

“I — it’s early, okay? My mouth hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Seems like it has to me.”

Bitty crawls out of his blankets at that, cheeks burning. “You tryin’ to tell me I talk too much?”

Jack takes a sip of water. “No, I’m trying to tell you to get your ass out of bed so we can go to Faber before the early skate. Do you think I enjoy being up at four?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” He tilts his head to the side. “Look, it’s prime running time—”

Bitty narrows his eyes. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you could get mugged—”

“—not if I’m running faster than my mugger, which is what I was about to say when I was so rudely interrupted, and how else am I to outrun a mugger than to practice running?”

He looks so pleased with his logic. Bitty says, “People like you are what’s wrong with this country,” and he grins broadly.

“I’m Canadian, remember?”

Bitty beats him for the first time in their end of practice race.

____________

Bitty’s alarm wakes him for the first time in ages, which of course means Jack died or something because no way in hell would he miss an opportunity to push him into the boards for an hour and a half.

Lord. He wouldn’t mind being pushed against the boards.

He’s had enough dreams that end up against the boards, for various reasons, and … he shouldn’t be thinking this, now, but.

He checks the weather and his school email and then, shivering, pads across the hall.

“Jack?” An answering mmph gives him the okay to open the door, so he does. He blinks to adjust to the darkness. Jack peeks blearily out from his blankets. “They’ve called classes for the day, it’s too cold out.”

Jack says, “Mmph,” and Bitty connects the dots. “You knew that already, I’m sorry! I’ll just—”

“Bittle.”

Bitty stops midway to the door.

“Yeah?”

Jack jerks his head toward the bed, peeling back his blankets. “It’s cold,” he mumbles, “c’mon.”

Bitty’s heart about stops. His mouth moves wordlessly for a few seconds before his mind catches up from where it stopped on Jack’s asking me to get in bed with him .

“Are you sure?” he asks, and Jack nods.

“No point losing more body heat,” he says sleepily. “Besides. My bed’s bigger than yours, we’ll fit fine.”

“Chirp chirp.”

So Bitty does. He climbs into his bed carefully, trying not to jostle Jack too much. Jack clumsily tucks the blankets around them and when Bitty tugs on the covers himself, their hands brush. Jack squeezes his briefly, then lets go. Bitty shivers again, but not from the cold.

“Oh — here —” Jack shifts his pillow and then presses a balled up sweatshirt into Bitty’s hands. “If you want.”

It’s the Pens sweatshirt he’d borrowed months ago. It still smells like him. The fact of Jack, sleeping with this so close to his face, breaks so sweetly in Bitty’s chest. He pulls it on.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

Jack says, “Mmph,” but Bitty can see him smiling slightly.

____________

Bitty wakes up after graduation to two texts. They’re timestamped 4:02 AM.

They say,

I’m sorry if it’s too early to say this , but I’ve been wanting to tell you for awhile now

I think I fell in love with you in the morning

He touches his lips with his fingertips and wonders when it was he got so stupid lucky.

________________________

A pillow lands on his face, yanking him out of a stress dream about playoffs.

Something in their bedroom smells delicious. He opens his eyes and blinks to be sure he isn’t dreaming.

Jack’s filled their nightstands with plates and plates of food. There’s a heap of pancakes stacked high and half buried under blueberries and strawberries and what smells like 100% Canadian syrup on one of them, and toast shining beautifully with butter stacked next to eggs cooked every which way of the other. Jack himself is sitting at Bitty’s feet, wearing the Schooners shirt Bitty had gotten as a signing perk two years back. It still looks so, so good on him. Bitty’s never gotten over the thrill at seeing Jack in a shirt with his last name on it.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bitty says, yawning. “How did you—”

“I have my ways,” Jack says, handing him a plate and Bitty smiles.

“It all smells so good.”

“That’s only because you missed about an hour of me burning everything on the stove.”

Bitty throws up his hands in mock exasperation. “This boy.”

Jack crawls next to him and leans against the headboard. He rests his arm around Bitty, pulling him gently against his side, and presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Your boy, you mean,” he says, and Bitty about melts.

“For half a second there I thought you were wakin’ me up for checking practice again,” Bitty tells him, after they’ve kissed a little.

Jack says, “I still could,” and Bitty kisses him some more to distract him. From the way he huffs a laugh, he knows Jack knows what he’s doing. “Though you don’t really need it now.”

“Yeah, I had a really good, really strict captain for that.”

They’re quiet a moment while they eat. Bitty sneaks peeks at Jack now and then, liking the way the sun still loves him. Jack catches him a few times and chirps him softly.

“I don’t think I ever told you,” Bitty says, when they’ve stacked all their dishes out of the way. “It was when you said you read my tweets, for me. Or with Señor Bun that first night in my bed, when you looked at him like he was a new bucket of pucks.”

“When…” Jack starts, frowning a little. Bitty waits for him to puzzle it out, leaning fully against him now. He sees the realization before Jack says it. “Oh,” Jack says. “When you…”

“When I fell in love with you,” Bitty says simply. “That was when.”

Jack tips his chin up with two fingers and Bitty savors this kiss more than any other they’ve had, except for the one after that one, and the one after that.

“I love you,” Jack says afterward. He presses their foreheads together.

Bitty says, “I love you no matter how many eggs you burn,” and Jack laughs another quick, surprised laugh. Hearing now is even better than the first time.

Jack helps him out of bed and they wash the dishes together, stopping now and then to bump into each other and kiss softly and be at home here, together in their kitchen with the sun just coming up. Even after all this time, this feels like the start of something.

Bitty takes Jack’s hand as the radio plays. They stay like this, dancing their way through cleaning up, well past when the sun rises fully in the sky.

________________________