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#i desperately tried to take a good picture of this drawing but no matter how much I try the colours are always super bright
esteemed-excellency · 4 months
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There is an old daguerrotype in Hiram's study, dated 1868, neatly kept in a case in one of his bureau drawers. The same drawer holds a stash of letters, with worn-out paper damaged by saltwater and time. There should be more letters, so many more, but saltwater and time are not easy to escape. And yet, some things do. Some things can, in fact, endure saltwater and time.
Hiram remembers every line in every letter, and the daguerreotype is exactly where it should be.
(blorbo copyright goes to @thunder-threnodies)
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wanderingelvis · 1 year
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Reader has major wardrobe malfunction with her bikini bottoms in public. Reader whispers her problem to Elvis. His eyes go wide as he tries to figure out what to do about the problem. Maybe reader is trying to hold them to cover herself and elvis tries to fix them but he makes it worse and they just fall off. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly enjoying the situation as he helps shield reader from others
I love this! I'm picturing Blue Hawaii Elvis for this! 🌺
🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻 word count: 1,838
pairing: elvis presley x f!reader
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You and Elvis weren't dating but you both had unspoken feelings for each other. Right now, the official line was that you were just both good friends and co-workers.  You were an up and coming actress, on the rise and getting more notoriety and bigger roles. You were pleased that all your hard work in the movie business had paid off but you were becoming increasingly reclusive, wary to trust a lot of people after pictures of you changing on set had leaked to gossip magazines as well as things you'd said in confidence to various people had spread like wildfire. It was the ugly side of fame, one that you hadn't really been very prepared for.
It was the ugly side that Elvis knew all too well. He too, struggled to trust many people other than his Mafia and a few other close and very personal friends.  That's how you grew closer to him, anything you and Elvis spoke about was always kept between you two, even if it was just something as simple as what you were planning on having for lunch.  Elvis' friendship and company was always very welcome and the chemistry between you two was palpable - even the studios and audiences had noticed it. Everyone loved you two together, the way you'd bounce off each other in a conversation, or quietly giggle together between sets or the on-screen interactions that would have audiences desperate for more. You and Elvis had been contracted by Paramount Pictures for a three-movie deal, where both of you would be the main protagonists, falling in and out of love, three times over. You didn't mind, Elvis was the biggest star on the planet and to be chosen to be his leading lady was an incredible honour.  Your latest project was set in Hawaii, on tropical beaches where you and Elvis currently found yourselves, in between takes. You were dressed in a cute bikini number, bright yellow which complimented the glowing tan you had. The only difficulty of the whole get-up was the strings that kept coming undone, no matter how many times you tied them, tighter and tighter.  It was about the seventh time that you fumbled about with the bikini bottoms strings, undoing them and pulling at them again. This time didn't quite work in your favour however, as the elasticine snapped back on your fingers, tearing the threads and breaking the fabric, causing the string to completely fall apart and snap.
"...Fuck." You whispered, your cheeks beginning to burn up as you tried to wrangle as much of the string as you possibly could, but the bikini bottom was snapped and there was no way you'd be able to keep it tied.
You began to chew your lip cutely, looking up and around for the only person you really trusted to help you in such a vulnerable position.
You shuffled as subtly as you could towards Elvis who was stood near the back of the beach, studying his script. You felt embarrassed and humiliated, but desperate, knowing you needed his help.  You lightly tapped his arm, not wanting to draw anyone else's attention your way. Elvis turned, raising an eyebrow and looking at you coyly as his eyes raked up and down your  bikini-clad body.  You gestured for him to lean down, which he did, allowing you to step on your little tippy-toes and lean up to whisper into his ear, shyly. "My bikini, um, my bikini bottom is broken I think." You said with a wobbly, soft voice. Elvis drew back from you, seeing your hands, balled up as little fists, trying to keep the material together and in one-piece so that you wouldn't end up flashing anyone. A smirk appeared on Elvis' face, that shit-eating grin that would make you roll your eyes.  Elvis took his large hand, brushing his fingers across your bare thigh to move your hands ever so slightly, so that he could inspect what was wrong. Tingles travelled through you as his hand grazed your hot skin, you swallowed as you looked down at your feet, trying to keep your composure. Elvis leaned back down to you, pushing your hair gently over your shoulder, tucking it behind the shell of your ear which sent shivers down your spine. "Baby, if you want me to take off your clothes, all ya needed t'do was ask." He whispered, cooly. You jolted back, giving him a light smack on his upper arm. "Elvis, no, I need your help!" You lightly scolded, making Elvis chuckle fondly down to you. 
"M'nervous it's gonna snap, I can't shoot the next scene like this." You said quietly and Elvis instantly felt bad for messing with you, sensing how worried you were.   "I'm sorry doll, I'm only teasin' ya. Now, let's see what's wrong, hey?" He said as you nodded eagerly.  Elvis knelt down slightly, his eye line perfectly aligned with the side of your hip, dangerously close to your crotch. Reluctantly, you let go of your bikini bottom straps, allowing Elvis' large hands to take them from you. 
He tried to you tie them back up again, but after snapping, there just wasn't enough string, causing the string to pull and pinch your soft skin, making you yelp and wince a little in pain. 
"Shit, sorry honey." Elvis hushed, gently kissing the spot on your hip, smiling up at you. You couldn't help but blush and smile back.  Elvis really had a number on you. He was gentle, protective and caring but he was also powerful, dominant and brash, and you were completely obsessed. You found that he was the person you'd always turn to whenever you were at work with him. You wouldn't confide in your assistant, any of the costume team that you used to be very close to, no, it was only Elvis.  You'd actually spoken to him about it a bit. You'd shared your anxieties and fear of this growing fame, and only he could really relate and understand where you were coming from, and he helped. He'd promised you that he would keep all your secrets, even if he teased you about them.  "Hm.." Elvis mused quietly, glancing at your bikini bottom, where a small, wet patch of arousal had formed. The intense mix of excitement and nerves must've gotten to you as Elvis noticed the slick coating the elastane material.
"What?" You asked, not yet catching onto what Elvis had spotted. "Been into the sea for a dip recently, sweet thing?" Elvis asked.
"Um, no, not since the first scene." You shook your head, a little confused. "Why?"
Elvis smirked. "Nothin' darlin', just that these lil' panties you got on would suggest otherwise." Elvis said.  You're cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, realising what Elvis had meant. Your mind had just drifted as Elvis touched you innocently, you couldn't help it but by God, you were embarrassed now. "I, um, I-" You stammered, feeling like your whole body was on fire. You held your cheeks in your hands, trying to gather your composure. 
Elvis rubbed your thigh soothingly in an attempt to reassure you. He wasn't stupid, he knew the effect that he had on you and he loved it. He wouldn't humiliate you though, he just loved to make you squirm and get all flustered and hot, he just wished he could do it in the privacy of his bedroom.
"S'okay honey," Elvis cooed. "Y'know, this happens to a lot of the ladies I talk to," Elvis teased you, knowing he was being an ass. "Shut up, Elvis." You giggled as he winked up at you, making you feel better.
Elvis kept fiddling with the straps, muttering profanities as the elastic would snap his fingers every now and then until he cursed a little louder and a sudden breeze could be felt across your lower area. You froze, knowing exactly what had happened. Elvis' eyes widened as he was staring straight at you, bare and exposed.  Panicked, you crouched down to Elvis' level, cowering over with your legs tightly shut. Your heart was pounding as you looked around, praying that no one from set would turn around, fortunately, Elvis was shielding you as he was crouched in front of you, but if he moved, you'd be done for.  "Fuck, baby, I don't know what happened, they just snapped and dropped." Elvis said.
Elvis sighed, cooing at you as he noticed the pool of tears forming in your eyes. "Oh baby, it's okay." Elvis said, trying to comfort you. 
"No one can see me, Elvis, I swear, I can't risk anyone seeing me like this, please." You said, your voice cracking.  Suddenly, a usually confident, composed and bubbly girl was vulnerable, nervous and desperate for Elvis' help. "Here," Elvis said, unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes widened at his bare chest before you averted your eyes, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes. 
He held the shirt open in his arms for you to crawl into, wrapping it around you lovingly, as if it were a towel and you'd just had a bath. He adjusted it ever so slightly to fit your frame and completely cover your most intimate areas. He tied a knot into the side of it, making sure that it wouldn't drop from your frame as soon as you got up. 
Elvis uttered little whispers of reassurance to you as he fixed his shirt around you, trying to soothe your racing mind, praising you for staying so calm and letting him help you. His words helped, they comforted you and helped you concentrate and level your breathing. "Now, I'm goin' to pick you up and take you to my trailer, okay little lady?" Elvis said, waiting for you to nod, letting him know you were listening. "And if anyone says anythin', we're goin' to tell 'em that you twisted that little ankle of yours, okay?" "Okay." You nodded, liking the idea. "Good girl, c'mon now." Elvis said, scooping you up in his arms, bridal style with his shirt covering your modesty. "I could get used to holdin' you like this, y'know?" Elvis said, making you giggle furiously and instantly feeling better. "There's that smile I've been missin'." Elvis said fondly, starting to head towards his trailer. "EP! We're nearly ready for you!" The director yelled. "Just takin' Y/N to the nurses station, she gotta nasty twist in her ankle." Elvis called back, making you giggle again, thankful that you had Elvis. It wasn't long before the pair of you arrived back at the trailer with Elvis placing you down gently on the couch.  "Thank you, Elvis." You said softly, breathing a sigh of relief, trying not to let the embarrassment of the whole event get to you too much. "Are you gonna tell anyone about this?" You asked quietly, nervous that you'd become a funny anecdote at a Memphis Mafia dinner. "Our secret, little one." Elvis said, holding out his pinky finger for you to take. "Our secret." You agreed, the both of you staring at each other, knowing that things had changed between you both now. But really, neither of you minded. Not one bit.
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homunculus-argument · 2 years
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Actually no, it's been 24 hours and I'm still mad about it so I'm elaborating.
My cousin's graduation is soon. I had decided that I will either get there through public transport, or I'm not coming at all. After seeing that getting there by bus and train wasn't a plausible option, I informed my family group chat (my mom and sister) that I'm not coming. When mom asked whether I'd need a ride, I told them that my therapist doesn't recommend that I should travel with them after what happened in London.
See, we went to London together as a family last summer. My sister was turning 30 and really wanted to go to London for it, but didn't want to go alone. So as my birthday gift to them both, I paid for our mother's ticket on top of my own to make the family trip possible.
In London, we tried to have a good time and do family activities. All being fond of history, we went to see a beautiful old church. I kept my hat off, of course, it would be rude and disrespectful to wear your hat inside a church. We were taking pictures in the areas where photography was permitted. I wanted to take a picture of something where I needed both hands, and didn't know where else to put my hat, so I decided to hold it by the rim with my teeth for the 30 seconds it would take to snap the picture.
My sister saw this, marched up to me and without saying a word, slapped my hat from my teeth onto the church floor hard enough to make my tickets and all such things that were inside the hat scatter. I was startled and baffled, asking why she did that and protested that it was uncalled for. Our mother swooped in to her defense.
"She was only trying to correct you."
Later on, we were eating at a restaurant. I had the toughest pizza in history, and while struggling to cut it, I managed to rip it apart and pieces scattered on the floor. Defeated and beaten down, I gave up trying to eat. One piece fell beside my foot. I wanted to pick it up, bur being used to my family berating me for anything I tried to do, I figured they would scold me if I did.
When my sister told me to pick it up, I broke down completely.
I wasn't just sobbing, but stammering and shaking uncontrollably, physically incapable of holding the outpour back. I was so desperate to calm myself down that I clawed my scalp hard enough to draw blood, begging them to just fucking tell me what the fuck they want me to be like, how the fuck am I supposed to be and do to be good enough for them. I told them that no matter what I did, it seemed to be wrong.
They calmly, angrily told me that they had never done such things, that the way I was feeling was completely incorrect, and right now they wanted me to calm down and stop being dramatic, I was embarrassing them. The waitress looked genuinely unsettled and concerned for my wellbeing, while my family was annoyed with me.
So that was what I was referring to when I referred to London. My sister responded with "well you were the one who wanted to come along" and a passive-aggressive thumbs-up emoji. As if I had forced my way to her fun birthday vacation that would have been nice without me, and therefore it's my own fault if I had a horrible time there.
Our mother chimed in to say that it's very sad if we can't all just get along when our family is so small, but agreed that maybe it is for the best to let the dust settle before we can spend time together again.
And that was it. I was done. I left the group chat, blocked them both, and I am never speaking to my family again. And I know if my sister finds this post (I've blocked her on tumblr too), she'll try to find a way to contact me to try to shame me for "airing out our dirty laundry" by reporting the things that they did in public.
Fuck you.
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nebulablakemurphy · 8 months
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Through Love And By Love (Pt. 14)
Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, discussions of trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.
18+ ONLY this chapter contains sexual content.
Part 13
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"What are you doing?" Albus wrestles the time turner from Scorpius, as the train chugs beneath them.
"It's obvious isn't it? We've got to go back." The Malfoy boy explains.
"No, absolutely not, Scorpius! Bad idea. Time turners are illegal, you don't meddle with time. Delphi must have stolen this." Rose scolds him, in a tone so like her mother.
"Because she cares about my mum, and she wants my father’s name cleared." Scorpius points out.
"They’re already working on clearing it." Rose insists. "My mum told me."
"Hermione is lying!" Scorpius cuts her off. "Everyone is lying! This won't get better and if I don't do something soon, it's going to get worse... If I don't do something soon, I’m going to lose my dad."
"I'm in." Albus says, softly.
"Albus, no!" Rose argues, it's too risky.
"He’s worth saving." Albus pleads his case.
"That wasn't in question, only the method by which you plan to save him." Rose busies herself, tugging at a loose string on her jumper.
“All we need to do is go back to the night he cast the imperius curse and make sure he doesn't." Scorpius shrugs, can't be that hard.
"And how exactly are you going to stop him?" She arches a fiery brow.
"I haven't figured that part out just yet."
"I should remind you, Scorp, your dad was much more..." Albus searches for the words, "intense back then."
————————————————————————
“Finally got Corina down,” Rosanna huffs, flopping onto the couch, beside her husband. The little girl didn’t want to nap, but she was overtired and cranky as ever.
Draco looks up from Rosanna’s notes, everything she’s prepared to submit for his trail. "The sacrifices made by Draco Malfoy, in a desperate attempt to keep Voldemort from rising to power, do not make him a criminal. They make him a hero. Or at the very least, a prisoner of war."
Rosanna moves to take the papers from him.
“You paint a pretty picture of me, love.” Draco admits, handing over the parchment.
“That’s how I see you.”
“You don’t need to lie.”
“It’s not a lie.”
“Tell me the truth of it and I will love you still.”
“Draco, this is the truth!”
“We both know how this ends. I need you to promise me that you’ll try to move forward, once I’m gone. I need you to promise that you won’t spend the rest of your life pining over me. Promise me, Rosanna.” Draco pleads, holding her gaze.
“I can’t promise that, you’re the only person that I-” she breaks off to collect her thoughts. “Sometimes it’s like the whole world is spinning and no one can feel it but me. Everything is rushing around me and I’m always running, struggling to keep up. But you make me feel like I can stand in one place without getting dizzy. You hold me still.”
“Rosanna,” he shakes his head.
“I hate the things that happened to you because of me. Everything you have to answer for is because of me. Because I asked you to, because I thought I was doing the right thing. You have every right to be angry about it. You have every right to hate me.” It’s only fair. “I hate myself.”
Draco draws in a ragged breath. “Don’t say that.” He grinds out, between gritted teeth, as if it were the worst, most heinous, thing he’s ever heard.
“You asked me to tell the truth.” Rosanna fires back, “that is the truth, I hate myself.”
“Please, don’t say that.” His voice is softer now, taking her face in his hands. “I wanted to make you happy, I tried. I-”
Rosanna rests her hands over his. “You gave me an incredible life, with so much happiness and I am so grateful.”
“Then how can you say that?”
“I ruined your life. I put a target on your back, I set you up to be hunted down and prosecuted. I tried to fix it, to set the record straight. I’ve been screaming, at the top of my lungs, for twenty years and no one can hear me.”
“I hear you,” Draco assures her. “I do.”
“If you get sentenced to Azkaban because of something I asked you to do, I won’t be able to live with that.” Rosanna confesses.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Draco sighs.
“If I don’t have you-”
“You have me. You will always have me. You are a part of me. To my bones, I am yours. No time, nor space between us will change that.” Where you go, I go.
Rosanna chokes back a sob, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.
“I hear you,” he says, against her mouth; damp with her tears and his own.
Her hands bury themselves in his hair. “I need you.”
“I am yours and you are mine.” Draco breathes, it was written in the stars before they were born.
Rosanna begins tugging at his clothes, trying to get closer to him. It’s not until they are bare, with his face buried dutifully between her thighs, that she settles. His tongue on her clit is nothing more than a temporary gentling, making her tremble and keen beneath him.
Draco drinks her in, possessive and greedy. Driving her to release, driving her to madness; legs clamped tightly to his ears. And when she cums, draped over the front of their sitting room couch, he can wait no longer. Repositioning her to lie across the cushions. Making her comfortable, keeping her safe.
“Please,” she whimpers. Because it’s not good enough, she needs him inside, so she won’t be alone. For once in her life she doesn’t care about what is right, she doesn’t want to be courageous or brave…or even free. She wants to be selfish and to get what she wants. “I want to be yours.” To be cherished, to be heard, to be loved.
To be loved is to be changed.
“You’re mine.” He is home. He is loved.
The thought comes again, unbidden. Clawing its way out from deep in her belly. “I hate myself.”
“I love you.” I hate myself.
“I love you.”
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"I can’t believe-" Scorpius breaks off, taking it all in. The train car has vanished, they are standing just outside of Hogwarts; forbidden forest howling behind them. It's after nightfall and the castle lights appear exceptionally beautiful, more so than any of them remember. "Did that really just work?"
"I'd say yes," Rose takes a step forward, on shaky legs. "But we need to figure out exactly where we are."
"You mean, when we are." Albus quips, only to be glared at by his cousin.
"By the looks of the Beauxbatons carriage, I'd say we're somewhere around the time of the triwizard tournament." Rose reasons.
"Alright then, let’s get to it." Scorpius nods.
"Wait," Rose stops him, listening closely for a moment. "We'll need some dress robes."
"For what?" Albus asks.
"I think we're going to the Yule Ball."
"Great," Al remarks, shrugging a shoulder. "We're not supposed to be seen, that makes perfect sense."
"We can be seen, so long as we're not recognized." Rose says, tugging the wand from her denims. "Who's going first?"
“Age before beauty,” Albus suggests, pointing his wand at her.
“Honestly?” Rose rolls her eyes, she’s been charmed into a fitted, powder blue, gown.
“Now you look just like a Beauxbaton’s girl.”
Rose configures his own outfit into the deep red Durmstrang robes, in retaliation.
“Oi!”
“As for you.” Rose flicks her wand again, this time at Scorpius. A pristine black dress suit.
“You know,” Albus cocks his head to the side, “now he might get mistaken for his father.”
“That might work to our benefit.” Rose decides, tucking away her wand and twisting her fiery curls into a makeshift updo.
Once they’re through the castle doors, they split up. Scorpius heads over to the refreshment table. If there’s one thing he knows about his mother, it’s that she fancies sweets. He’ll just wait her out.
He uses the ladle to pour a bit of punch into his cup. Something slams hard into his back, sending red liquid down the front of his dress robes. “Oof.” He grunts, turning around to find himself face to face with Rosanna McVay.
This girl has never known loss, or pain. She is innocent, with a thousand stars in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she covers her mouth, with one hand. “I thought you were someone else.”
“It’s fine,” is all Scorpius can manage. It’s physically painful to look at her, yet he can’t bring himself to turn away.
“Here, let me help you.” She grabs some napkins from the table, attempting to sop up the mess from his robes.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll manage.” Scorpius stills her hands.
“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”
“Really, it’s fine.”
“Rosanna,” a new voice, his father’s voice, moving closer.
“I should go.”
Scorpius catches her wrist. Maybe he can undo this; maybe he can save this girl, save both of them. “Do you love him?” Tell me it was worth it. Tell me what to do.
“He’s not like everyone says.” Rosanna tells him.
Time turns again, only now without warning.
————————————————————————
Rosanna hears her muggle phone vibrating, on the side table. She makes no move to grab it, smoothing a hand over Draco’s hair. The pair of them are still crammed up on the couch; his head resting against her chest. He looks so peaceful, breath labored as he sleeps. His weight on her is welcome, tethering her to the earth. Holding her still.
After a moment, the vibrating stops. Only to start again.
Rosanna curses, under her breath. Accio phone.
The caller I.D. reads ‘Hermione,’ buzzing to life again.
“Hermione?” Rosanna answers, on the first ring.
“Where are you?” Hermione asks.
“I’m home,” Rosanna tells her, “why?”
“I just received word,” she breaks off, “Ro, I don’t know how this happened.”
“What happened?”
“Rose, Scorpius and Albus…they never made it to Hogwarts.”
“How is that possible?” Rosanna shakes her husband awake, softly.
“They vanished from the train- I- I’m down at the ministry with Ron and Harry. Can you come?”
“We’re on our way.”
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"What happened?" Scorpius asks. The trio is back where they started, present day. "Did one of you turn it?"
"No." Rose shakes her head, still in her gown.
"Something must be wrong with the time turner." Albus frowns.
"Well if it's dodgy, we probably shouldn't be using it." Rose concludes, turning up her nose. "I have a feeling she tampered with it."
"Who?" Scorpius demands, impatiently.
"You know very well who! The same person who stole it from the ministry." Rose tells him.
"Come off it, Rose." Scorpius scowls, "Delphi is only trying to help."
"She said all you had to do is turn it, therefore she must have already charmed it to where she wanted it to go." Rose takes a step closer, jabbing a finger into Scorpius' chest.
"That's barmy." Scorpius protests, cupping his hand over hers.
"Either way," Albus scratches the back of this neck uncomfortably, he hates when they fight. "I don't think we should play around with this. It's dangerous and we could wind up stuck wherever we land."
"I have to finish this." Scorpius shakes his head. Preparing to turn time, alone.
"Scorp, please," Albus reaches a hand out to stop him. "Your dad wouldn't want you to do this. If anything ever happened to you-"
"I know, I'll be careful...I just need to fix this." Scorpius insists.
————————————————————————
“Any news?” Draco asks, as they enter Harry’s office. Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione are waiting for them there.
“Still nothing.” Harry shakes his head.
“Damn it,” Draco breathes.
“Did you get word to the girls?” Hermione moves toward Rosanna, reaching for her arm.
Rosanna nods, taking her hand. “Leo and Arlo are on the way to my parent’s house. Lucius and Narcissa have Corina. Polaris and Vega left Hogwarts via portrait with James, they’re at the burrow. Hugo and Lily?”
“At the burrow,” Ron assures her.
“Assuming that our families are being targeted, that’s five of the children in one place.” Draco points out. “We need to move Vega and Polaris.”
“We’ll send reinforcements to the burrow,” Harry offers, instead.
“Very well,” Draco nods, mouth set in a firm line. “There are protective wards in place, I set them years ago. Have whoever you send set up a few more.”
“Thank you.” Ginny replies, turning away to make arrangements.
“You set protective wards around my parent’s house?” Ron had no idea.
“And yours,” Draco says, without hesitation, “Potter’s, Granger’s parents, the list goes on.”
“Well-” Ron stammers. “You didn’t need to do all that, Malfoy. We could’ve managed.”
“A simple thank you will suffice, Weaselbee. No need to blow a gasket.”
After all these years, Harry is surprised that Ron doesn’t understand. Draco is a simple being, he serves one purpose. Protect Rosanna and that which she loves. “Malfoy,” Harry cuts in, “I hate to ask, but your mark…do you feel anything?”
Draco’s dark mark is a subject strictly off limits.
Rosanna curls her fingers over the inside of her husband’s left forearm, protectively.
They tried to remove it, twice. The first time, Draco hacked up his arm himself. Mangled and bleeding over the washroom vanity. He sobbed for hours, even after Rosanna found him, healing him with magic, pressing kisses against his skin. He still has the scars.
The second time, Rosanna attempted to pull the dark magic from the mark itself. It was excruciating, as if the mark had twined itself with his soul.
“Not a thing, Potter.” Draco scoffs, “how’s the scar?”
Harry reels back, as though the question is somehow out of line. “Brilliant.”
They’re both lying.
————————————————————————
"Where are we?" Albus asks, scanning their surroundings. Time travel is severely disorienting.
"Looks like my parent's room." Scorpius whispers.
The trio scampers into the closet, away from view. As footsteps from the hallway draw near.
Rosanna steps in, sporting a lavender maternity dress. Her belly prominent enough to be seen through the material.
Flopping onto the bed, she runs her hands over the growing child, fondly.
The washroom door opens and Scorpius can see his father emerge, through the tiny crack in the wardrobe doors.
Rosanna rolls her head to the side. "Did you have a chance to look at names today?"
"Not yet, love." Draco sighs, turning toward his chest of drawers.
Rosanna's playful tone is gone. "You wanted another girl."
"He's yours, Rosanna, I'll love him."
Scorpius' heart sinks. His father didn't want him. His father who held him up on his shoulders, when Scorpius wasn't tall enough to see. His father who wrote him everyday, while he was away at school. His father who loves him…only because he is Rosanna’s son.
Albus' hand finds his, giving a reassuring squeeze. He knows what it's like to feel unwanted, in a way that Rose never would.
"What the hell does that mean?" Rosanna demands, the angry vein pulsing in her neck.
"I'll be a rubbish father to a son." Draco murmurs, under his breath.
Oh, Scorpius sighs. No, you'll be brilliant. You'll be the best father anyone could have.
"He'll grow to resent me and I'll fail him. I'll fail you." The platinum haired man sits at the edge of their bed.
Rosanna reaches toward him, resting a hand on his lower back. "Draco, no you won't."
Time whirls around without them, again, without warning.
"There's got to be a way we can get this stupid thing to work." Scorpius says, through gritted teeth.
"Let me see." Rose takes the turner, holding it away from her body. "Finite Incantatem." If something was controlling the time turner, it's not anymore. "Give it one last go."
They wind up on the return train to Hogwarts, days before the death eaters are scheduled to appear through the vanishing cabinet.
"Brilliant work, Rose." Scorpius breathes as they scamper into an empty train car, to devise a plan.
Part 15
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bmodiwrites · 11 months
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I'll Dial Drunk
Hi friends! I'm back with something that's been brewing since Noah Kahan released the extended version of his newest album. Dial Drunk is the motivation for this one - I hope you like what my mind cooked up! There will be a second part, so be on the lookout for that. You can read I'll Dial Drunk below or over on AO3. Please like, reblog, and let me know what you think!
The mahogany under Steve’s arm is slippery like grease, covered in both sweat from the bar’s patrons and slick from the coating used to keep its shine. He tries not to look down at the reflective surface – his mirror image is just as bad as the one Steve projects out into the world and he’s already depressed. Seeing examples of his downfall never helps.  
For the fourth night in a row, Steve sits at the far corner of The Hideout, sipping a drink. There aren’t many lights that surround him so Steve is usually unbothered and undisturbed while he drowns his sorrows in whiskey and rum. After so many years of isolation, that’s how Steve likes it. He doesn’t know how to converse with strangers anymore – his allotted charm hit it’s peak so long ago that Steve can’t even remember what normal interaction is actually like.
Tonight is somehow different. There’s a charge in the air that Steve can’t seem to push past or ignore. He takes a deep breath, testing out the oxygen level in the room. Though it supplies him with what his body needs, Steve can smell the lingering anticipation.
Or maybe, he’s just really fucking drunk.
The whiskey in his hands is warm by now, the ice he ordered in it all but melted and watering down the drink. Steve throws it back anyway, well aware of the waste it would be if he doesn’t. His money isn’t something he can just throw away now. With so much agony following him around, disappearing into his mind isn’t beneficial. These days, it’s easier to live in the back of his head than exist in the real world – working a job included. It’s lonelier there, sad in so many ways that a lack of steady income doesn’t even break into the top five.
At least in his head, Steve is surrounded by the family he once had. Dustin and the kids aren’t gone yet, the sleepy little town they all grew up in hasn’t chased them away. They’re available for him outside of the holidays that blow by in a haze of too little time and so much to do every time his surrogate kids come back to see their families. His mind perfectly preserved the happy moments where Steve is at his best and not lonelier than any man should be.
What’s lacking in his real life, Steve clings to in his thoughts.
Unsurprisingly, Steve also keeps a perfectly rendered picture of the one that got away tucked back there, mingling with all of his other good memories. In his head, Eddie Munson is bright eyed and 21 years old. There are scars that mark him but beauty radiates from him all the same. In the handful of years since Eddie turned him away, Steve’s mental picture and it’s clarity hasn’t changed a single bit. He can’t forget dimpled smiles and chocolate button eyes that were so easy to love – no matter what drawing up that vision costs him.
And the toll of clinging onto such memories is so very high. Steve struggles to make it from day to day after nights where Eddie and the kids live in the forefront of his mind. When they’re tucked away and out of sight, Steve can almost forget the pain that radiates from his chest and magnifies as it goes down. He can do his job and wake up in the morning without too much heartache. For some of the long days, Steve manages with barely a passing thought for those who left him behind.
Days like today are impossible, however. Hell, the last few days haven’t been all that good. After hearing about Eddie on the radio, Steve is stuck in the moments where that brilliant man was his - even if they are few and far between. The alcohol numbs the need to desperately seek Eddie out, to run across Hawkins and demand to be taken back. Yet, it enhances the want for him, for the life they should’ve had even more. The impossible conundrum is neither solved nor soothed by whiskey on the rocks, though Steve keeps drinking all the same.
How can he not when thirty came and went last fall and Steve’s not any closer to being where he wants in life or with the people he needs so very desperately? As the world turned on around him, Steve dug his heels in and tried to stop it from spinning him off his axis. This place, this town - it’s all he’s ever known. After all the trauma, Steve is certain he made the right decision to stay right where he is, consequences be damned.
A loud bang a few feet down the bar draws Steve away from his melancholy, all sad thoughts halting. A new group is starting to get passed the point of socially drunk – the ruckus they’re going to cause is a little more than Steve can take at the moment. Instead of asking for one more like most nights, Steve signals to the bar tender, requesting the check.
“All done for the night, Harrington?” Gareth asks, a worried look on his face. Steve watches him glance between the rowdy group and himself. There’s a tension there that Steve can’t quite place. Despite being one of the bars best customers, Gareth seems eager to have Steve gone.
Instead of wondering why, Steve’s drunk brain grasps onto the question the bartender asked. “Sure am. Gotta save a little of that liquor for the next time I’m here.” Steve tries to smile but it falls flat - there’s nothing nice about being a drunk and knowing it. The hilarity of the situation is long gone now that Steve is stuck in this rut and can’t seem to get out.
After making quick work of his change, Gareth nods at Steve and turns back to help the other group demanding his attention. Steve shakes his head to clear it, then starts his trek over to the main entrance. He’s wobbling and a bit tipsy on his feet but they eventually start to work and clumsily carry him across the room. Of course, they can’t whisk him away fast enough to avoid hearing something that is guaranteed to set him off.
“Did you hear the freak is back in town?”
“Yeah, man. I saw him at the coffee shop with his uncle. Still as freaky as ever.”
“I don’t know why that Munson kid ever comes back. He’s never been welcome here.”
With each new scathing remark, Steve forgets himself a little more. Despite not being Eddie’s for a long time now, Steve can’t help the way his heart lurches anytime someone speaks badly of him. There’s so much this stupid town doesn’t know; Eddie is a savior and part of the reason Hawkins is still standing. He wonders briefly if they would think differently of him if the truth were to come out. Though, that’s quickly brushed away in favor of the rising anger Steve isn’t even trying to control. Why should he when there’s nothing to lose?
Turning around, Steve makes quick work of stumbling back over to the group who’s now cackling madly. There’s a moment where Gareth looks at him, even shakes his head, but Steve ignores him. It’s already too late to turn back now. How can he, anyway? Eddie’s never deserved the hand he was dealt. After a decade, the trash talk needs to go away for good.
“I’ve never liked that word – freak. Especially when it’s coming from boys like you,” Steve says, squaring up his shoulders to bring himself to full height. He’s surrounded on all sides by assholes but he’s not afraid. For the first time in a long time, Steve feels alive.
The leader of the group, some Jason Carver wannabe, turns to Steve, looking him up and down. There’s recognition that’s quickly diminished into a hatred only people in Hawkins can understand.
“What makes you think I give a shit what the town drunk has to say?”
There are snickers following the attempted insult; this ring leader has all of his flunkies trained well. Steve ignores them, however, setting his sights on the guy dumb enough to step up and take the bait. Despite not being athletic anymore and a little older than he was, Steve knows he can win a fight. There’s been more than a few in this very spot that ended in victory for Steve. He’s not afraid nor cowed by a jackass who talks about something he’s got no business even bringing up.
“You care enough to turn around and clap back. I’d say you’re pretty invested.” Steve smirks at that, knowing he’s got this guy right where he wants him.
As expected, the man takes a step towards Steve, his fingers clenching. “I would watch yourself if I were you. 7 to 1 isn’t much of a fight.”
Without thinking or even trying to act rationally, Steve smiles wider – his eyes darkening. “I like those odds,” he mutters a second before drawing back his right arm and swinging.
The punch lands right where he wants it. Steve is happy to see that the guy is all talk and no action. He blows back against the bar like he’s been hit by a truck, not a simple thing like Steve’s fist. His face is pinched into a grimace that gets worse when he sees the rest of the group just standing there staring.
“You’re just going to let him do that to me?” Steve’s victim roars, his hands that are covering his nose muffling the sound. A few of the guys jump into action while the rest take a step back. They’re smart not to take on a crazy person without anything to lose.
For what seems like hours, Steve fights them off. He throws punches and lets a few glance off him to get the advantage. By the time there’s blue and red flashing lights in the window, everyone is sporting at least one black eye and Steve’s knuckles are torn open, each one of them bleeding enough to leave track marks down the side of Steve’s shirt and jeans. He looks murderous and Hop says so as he’s putting him into cuffs.
“You look fucking rabid, Harrington. Ain’t nothing worth this.” Hop’s words are harsh but his hands are gentle on Steve’s wrists. They’ve been through this song and dance a few times before. All because of Eddie – always because of that damn boy.
“You don’t even know him anymore, Steve. Why do you do this to yourself?”
Steve contemplates that answer all the way to the station while he sits in the back of Hop’s squad car. The fifteen minute drive is enough to sober him somewhat, though there’s still a long way to go before clarity sets in. His mind is addled but one thing is clear, Eddie is always worth the punches Steve throws. Always.
After getting dragged into the station, Hop throws Steve into a chair in front of his desk. He sits down heavily, the tiredness of getting his ass kicked starting to set in. They both know exactly who Steve wants to call but Hop makes him wait. They toil in silence for ages, staring at each other but not seeing. Glancing but never quite making eye contact.
When this first happened, Hop tried his best to guide Steve. To this day the man feels like a father figure that Steve never had in his own daddy. Yet, Steve is and always has been too stubborn to do what’s best for himself. He’s ruled by emotion that weighs him down and forces him to remain stagnant. He’s stuck in the past where genuine happiness exists - even if it’s just for those handful of months. Steve doesn’t want to forget the way his heart pounded or the shape of Eddie’s lips against his own. Every trip to the police station is worth it. It has to be when Steve has nothing left.
It’s obvious that neither of them are going to talk so Hop huffs out an impatient breath before reaching for the phone on his desk. Steve usually dials the number but Hop doesn’t let him this time. His fingers glide over the buttons, the rhythm of it like music to Steve’s ears.
There’s a singular moment where Steve thinks Hop isn’t going to hand over the phone – a look in his eyes that Steve can’t quite decipher. Though, it’s gone as fast as it came; the receiver is in Steve’s hands before the slightest idea of what Hop is thinking comes to the surface of Steve’s drunken mind. Everyone has their problems, that much is obvious.
Like every time before, Hop leaves him to his own devices. After the call went unanswered the second time and Steve flipped out, Hop’s taken to giving him some privacy. Despite his misconduct, the town’s sheriff doesn’t actually want to arrest Steve. There’s too much history to allow a small misdemeanor to truly ruin Steve’s life. This, the handcuffs, the time spent in the station – it’s all a familiar procedure now. The choreography is soothing in a world where Steve knows there aren’t guarantees. At least some things never change.
The continual ringing of the phone in his hand pulls Steve back to the present. Usually, there’s a couple of half assed rings and then a long dial tone before the operator hops on to say the number has been disconnected. After Eddie pushed him out the door a decade ago, the trailer’s number never worked again, despite the millions of times Steve dialed it time and time again. The disconnection of that bond still stings, so Steve is perplexed to hear the ringing continue. It goes and goes until there’s a click and a miracle truly happens.
“Munson residence, this is Eddie.”
Steve’s breath catches and for a second, he forgets himself. He forgets that he’s been trying to get through for years and years. Steve is suddenly back in his bedroom with that voice whispering in his ear. It’s like 10 years of hurt and pain no longer exist.
Then, reality comes crashing back.
“If you’re one of those fuckers calling to yell about damnation, you can save it!”
Gasping, Steve clings to the here and now to reply before the call is hung up.
“Wait, wait. Don’t go, Eddie!”
There’s silence.
Then –
“Steve? Is that really you?”
“Yeah, Eddie. It’s me. I can’t – I can’t believe you finally picked up. 10 years later.”
“How did you – never mind. Where are you? And why are you calling?”
Steve scoffs, his emotions all over the place. “I’ve been calling for years – just to maybe hear your voice. Of course you finally answer when I’m stuck in handcuffs at the police station. How fucked is that?”
A chuckle sounds down the line, the vibration of it genuine and true in Steve’s ears. He wants to cry from the relief of finally hearing such a happy noise again. It’s insane knowing how much better he feels just from that one second of joyful sound.
“You called me as your one phone call? What would’ve happened if I didn’t pick up?”
“Well, you never have before. Hop usually throws me in the holding cell and lets me sleep it off. I cry for a bit and then drop into an exhausted slumber where I dream about you. Pretty standard stuff.”
“Oh, Steve – “  
The tone of Eddie’s voice is raw and pitying – any other time, Steve would’ve lashed out in order to protect himself and his pride. Yet, he’s too weak and relieved to hear Eddie at all that Steve let’s it slide. He clings to it, even – the dulcet tones of worry are better than the silence that usually follows him around.
“I’m okay, Eddie. Drunk and bruised up but okay. Better than ever now.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but sit tight, okay? I’ll be there soon.”
Steve can’t process the words so he hums and holds the phone tightly to his ear, keeping it there even after Eddie hangs up and the dial tone is all that’s left. Steve clings and clings until Hop walks back into the room and takes the receiver from him.
“He picked up this time, Hop. Must be my lucky day.”
Hop looks at him for a moment, contemplating whether Steve needs to know that he dialed the right number instead of the one Steve always uses before deciding against it. He simply smiles in Steve’s direction, placating the drunken boy who still feels like a son. For so many years, Hop watched Steve drag himself down. Tonight, putting him in the car was just too much. Hop isn’t all that certain Wayne won’t hate him later but Steve’s happiness is worth whatever backlash he may get. This thing, the isolation between two kids obviously still gone for each other, has gone on long enough.
Steve and Hop wait at the desk until the station’s front door opens. For Steve, the entire world stops – there’s no spinning on an axis or time passing him by. There’s only Eddie.
Despite 10 years continuing on, Eddie isn’t much different. There are a few laugh lines around his eyes and a new scar over his right eyebrow. He’s a little heavier because exercising is for the weak but that’s about it. Steve is transported back to the easy days when summer vacation and what’s for lunch were his only worries. His fingers itch to bury themselves in the thick strands of curly hair still hanging past Eddie’s shoulders, kinky and long as always. Steve wants so much that he’s overwhelmed and completely mute the entire time Eddie and Hop discuss the situation.
By the time Hop is taking him out of the cuffs, Steve’s drunkenness has reached a critical level. It’s difficult to hobble out to the car, even with the warm press of Eddie against his side. Steve is so intoxicated that he can’t even enjoy the rare gift that being next to Eddie is. He’s happy to simply be there with him, to sit in the passenger seat of a new car that smells like Eddie and the burn of Marbolo Reds. Steve can only smile and nod when Eddie asks him questions. There’s no cognition of what he’s being asked to do or say but Steve is happy all the same. For the first time in a decade, he drifts off to sleep without a semblance of tightness or misery sitting in his belly.
——
“Hey there, Stevie – “
The all too familiar voice has Steve turning over, a soft smile on his face. He can tell it’s Eddie talking to him, there’s no mistaking the affection that sounds in his ears, yet the outline of his body is hazy and unfocused. Steve reaches up to rub at his eyes but it’s no use. The achingly familiar tease of Eddie just barely out of his reach is so familiar, Steve knows he’s dreaming.
Despite that, he extends his arm in Eddie’s direction. Steve’s fingers throb with a desperate need to touch, the ache so very familiar. Like usual, Steve gets so close that the feeling of Eddie’s leather jacket under his skin is almost tangible. While the memory of that touch lingers, the real thing hovers away for no justifiable reason. Steve’s come to the conclusion that he’s not allowed happiness. After so long, he’s used to never getting what he wants.
The sound of a coffee maker beeping draws Steve out of his restless dream. He blinks awake with a heavy sigh, both frustrated and glad to be free of that glorious torture – at least until he manages to try and rest again later. Stretching in hopes of forgetting the turmoil already setting in, Steve leans into the feeling of his muscles loosening. He’s sore enough to know a fight occurred without the memories having to resurface. A quick flex of his hand drives that reality home tenfold. There are cracks and cuts across the skin, though they’re lacking the caked on dry blood that’s usually looking back at him. In fact, all of his injuries have been taken care of.
With this newfound knowledge, Steve finally takes in the rest of his surroundings. Instead of the corner of a jail cell, Steve is reclined on a decently comfortable couch. There is a pillow under his head and a handmade blanket over top of him. Everything smells familiar, like Eddie’s cologne and the natural musk of a well-loved home. He’s startled to realize that whatever happened last night isn’t a dream his hopeful heart concocted.
That’s further proven by a cup of coffee being pushed into his hands a couple of minutes later. Steve is so dumbstruck that it takes a second for his body to cooperate. Eddie patiently waits in front of him until there’s no risk of spilling hot liquid. Despite the warmth of the drink, Steve takes a handful of desperate sips before even thinking about taking on whatever’s coming next.
Surprisingly, it’s silence that follows. Steve watches Eddie drink his coffee. In return, those brown eyes stay on Steve, too. There’s some sort of stalemate happening that’s not going to be broken by Steve. He’s too busy soaking Eddie in while the caffeine of the coffee is absorbed into his blood stream. Little by little, Steve gets a better grip on himself – his heart starts beating fast, it’s normal reaction to Eddie so close. Instead of the sluggish drunk of last night, Steve becomes the person he truly is.
A lost soul with a lot of unresolved feelings.
Eddie must see that because he finally breaks the ice developing up between them.
“You look like shit, man.”
Forgetting himself for a second, Steve can’t help but laugh. His chest heaves with the unexpected intensity of such an emotion. For a minute at least, Steve chuckles until there are tears streaming down his face.
“Fuck – I forgot how much you make me feel.” Steve takes a second, let’s himself calm down. Then, he trucks on. “I am shit, Eddie. Have been for years now. I can’t believe you’re actually here. I thought I dreamed last night up.”
“Trust me, I’m very real.” Eddie stops for a second, inelegantly staring Steve down. “It’s crazy to think my first adventure back home is with you. After all this time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”
“You’re shitting me, right? Nothing’s changed? I called you from jail last night, Eddie. Like I’ve done at least a dozen times before. Everything has changed.”
Eddie has the decency to look embarrassed, his big brown eyes watering up before he blinks the moisture away. Steve can’t help but want those tears to fall, to see some sort of emotion that comes close to Steve’s own. After a decade of thinking about this moment, Steve is lost in a sea of overwhelm, unable to doggy paddle effectively. He wants so much, it’s hard to process what’s actually happening.
Though, he eventually gets himself together enough to ask the question burning up his mind. “Why did you pick up now? I’ve called plenty of times when you were in town before. The phone just rang and rang until the operator popped on to tell me I’m an idiot for calling a disconnected number. I’ve been listening to that recorded message so long it’s a comfort to hear.”
Steve isn’t ready for the sudden infiltration of his space but deals with it when Eddie takes up the couch cushion next to him. Their thighs are inches from touching, the heat between them tangible. Steve so desperately wants to lash out and push Eddie away, to return the treatment he himself received. Yet, the comfort of a familiar body next to him is too much to handle. The fight leaves Steve within seconds.
“Hop dialed for you last night. He put in Wayne’s new number and you finally got through. I don’t know why he waited so long to share it with you, Steve. I’m suddenly aware of a lot of things I didn’t know.”
The bubbling pit of sadness Steve deals with on a daily basis drops a little further into his stomach. The realization that Hop could have helped him long ago settles in, making Steve feel heavy. It takes a second or two to come to the understanding that though it hurt him, Hop was trying to protect Steve, too.
“He was trying to save me, I’m sure. From this,” Steve says, waving his hands back and forth between them. “I’m a very weak man but that’s nothing compared to the fall out that’s about to come. Now that you’re here, I see very clearly that I’m going to have to give you up again.”
Tears are falling down Steve’s cheeks long before he realizes it. His shirt, or maybe Eddie’s because it’s a touch too tight across the chest, is getting wet, the collar collecting his sadness by the second. Steve is too tired and wrung out to reach up and swipe at each traitorous one. Instead, he lets them flow.
A soft hand on his chin stops Steve’s spiral. Guitar calloused fingers are so recognizable it’s like they’re 20 again, touching for the first time. Though, that thought jolts Steve back to reality and he shifts away. Little tastes of things he’s never going to be able to keep aren’t good for him. He’s an addict that isn’t anywhere near following the path to recovery. This bump, this small little hit, it’s going to put him back years.
“Don’t do that, Eddie. Don’t touch me like it’s not going to kill me. Don’t pretend that you care.”
“I do care. I’ve cared since before Vecna came in and destroyed our lives. I left because I care, Steve. Why can’t you see that?”
A red flash of rage swims in Steve’s vision. He’s much to hungover to be having this conversation but it’s happening, nonetheless. Steeling himself, Steve says the things he’s wanted to since the separation occurred.  
“That’s bull shit. If you cared, you never would have left. You never would have turned your back on me.”
“Steve, you shut me out. I told you I needed to leave for your safety and mine. I said I had to go because this town doesn’t forgive or forget. We were getting death threats every day. You, me, my uncle – even the kids. I couldn’t put you guys through that anymore.” Eddie’s voice rises, his anger peaking. “You decided you weren’t going to talk to me anymore. That the distance between us was too big to handle.”
“Because I needed you! I needed you to be there for me. You left right after my parents did, abandoning me like them. You took off without asking me how I felt about it. I would’ve braved every single person in town who thought they had the right to say something to or about you. Hell, I punched that guy last night in the face because he let your name fall from his lips. You’re worth the fight, Eddie. Even now.”
Steve’s so lost in his anger and resentment that it’s impossible to continue. If he says another word or thinks another thought, Steve’s positive he’s going to explode. There’s so much he wants to scream in Eddie’s face but none of it matters. Eddie is crying and Steve, despite the time and baggage between them, can’t stand to see the sight. No matter how often he wished to cause Eddie the same pain Steve deals with daily, he can’t deal with the reality of it. Without thought, both of his arms wrap around Eddie’s shoulders and pull until they’re chest to chest, hugging each other tightly.
For now, it’s the only thing they can give to each other, unresolved issues be damned. Steve knows that by the way all the fight leaves Eddie’s body. He feels it in the squeeze Eddie gives him back. There is no resolution or simple answers in sight. After so long, there might never be.
Leaning into Eddie’s touch, Steve comes to the conclusion that this right here, coming back together after years of miscommunication and anger, is everything and nothing, the perfectly imperfect way things work out following desperate hurt and sadness that separated entities meant to exist as one. There’s no way of knowing what happens next but Steve is content to rest in Eddie’s arms.
There, he is safe.
There, Steve can feel whole again.
In the moment, that’s all Steve really needs.
tag list (message if you’d like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, 
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raccoonhearteyes · 2 years
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Part I  | Part II  | Part III | Part IV  | Part V | Part VI
September 25th, 2018
In August, Clarke painted the best piece she’s ever done.  She remembers painting it, but doesn’t remember the model, and it’s driving her insane. Everytime she looks at it she is filled with pride, but her stomach also swoops and she can’t figure out why. It has been over a month, and she’s still not sure what she’s missing. How can she not remember the muse for her best piece? 
After a month of stewing on the piece, torn between keeping it forever and bringing it to the FBI to track down the girl, she settles for something in between. She wraps it safely with five layers of palette wrap and brings it to the gallery where she works. 
After sending a picture to her boss, Indra, she agreed there may be a spot in the gallery for Clarke to hang it and make a sale. 
Interest started off slow, and Clarke worried that it wasn’t as good as she thought it was. But then Indra suggested they offer an exclusive one month auction for it. A list was placed next to the piece along with a starting bid that alone would cover Clarke’s expenses for a month. She was ecstatic. But as the month crept by, Clarke has painstakingly watched the buyer interest list grow. 
It sold on September 20th. For $10,000 dollars. That pays nearly six months of Clarke's rent. One painting. Six months rent. This painting is single handedly taking care of her for the foreseeable future. And she doesn’t even know who this painting is. No matter how desperately her mind tries to search for a face, a name, the session, she draws a blank. But it is so much money that the troubling nature of a forgotten model is overshadowed.
She briefly considers getting it all in singles and buying a kiddie pool so she can swim around in it, but instead decides to commemorate it differently.  She asks Indra if she could keep the auction list. Of course she can’t keep the piece itself-- that defeats the purpose of selling it-- but she thinks framing the auction list is a close second. There are 37 bids on it. 37 people walked into the gallery, saw her piece on the wall, and thought it was worth buying. 
She flips through the list, seeing how much each bid increased by, who these potential clients could be. She sees the name Lindsey Waldorf written in big swooping cursive as the second bid. And then again as the eighth. The same swooping handwriting LW is written again as the eighteenth and the twenty-fourth bid. Clarke was pretty sure she spoke to almost everyone who came in and looked at that piece. Why can’t she remember that name? Why can’t she put a face to it? She was in the gallery four times to look at it. Surely Clarke couldn’t have missed her every time. Could she? It’s a name she tries to remember. If she bid for the painting four times, she must have liked it enough that maybe she’d buy a different piece of hers. Prove that this isn’t just a fluke of a sale, that this is a career, and she can do it. 
----------
Clarke’s friends decide they have to celebrate her big sale. They insist on going to a club, getting absolutely wasted, and making Clarke pay for all the drinks. She did just make ten thousand dollars so Clarke is hard pressed to say no to blowing off a little steam. 
It’s almost midnight when she sees her. She’s nursing a drink at the bar, but Clarke keeps catching her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes. They’re taunting, absolutely mesmerizing in the way that a forest hides a plethora of treasures. They are taunting Clarke, dancing in the light of strobe light, twinkling with laughter watching her dance with Raven and Octavia. 
Even though Clarke is dancing with Raven and Octavia, her eyes stay trained on the stranger at the bar. 
“Clarke!” “Earth to Clarke!” Her friends yell at her. 
“Huh?” Clarke responds dumbly. 
“You have been eye fucking that girl for nearly an hour. Go talk to her.” 
Clarke musters up the courage to go over, buying a round of shots first. Emboldened with a shot for each of them, Clarke slides onto the stool next to the girl and pushes a shot over to her. 
“What are we celebrating?”
“My first big sale of a painting.” 
“You’re an artist?”
“I dabble.” 
“To your artistic success, then,” the girl says, raising her shot to clink with Clarke’s before downing it with a hiss and a shake of her head. 
“Shouldn’t you get back to your friends?” The girl nods over to where Octavia and Raven are now drunkenly grinding on each other on the dancefloor. 
“Who, them? Let’s just say they’re encouraging me to make new friends tonight.”
“Get it, Clarke!” Raven yells from the dance floor, and Clarke buries her face in her hands in embarrassment. 
“Ah,” the girl chuckles into her glass. 
“Could I convince you to spend a song with me?”
She smiles, and Clarke’s heart flutters in her chest. Clarke leads her to the dancefloor and spins to face her. The dance floor is a blur of bodies and sweat. The music thunders the base so loudly, Clarke can feel it in her chest, and she watches the girl’s hips move so fluidly she’s not entirely convinced the music isn’t made by her movements and not the other way around.  
She said her name was Val. It doesn’t seem to fit her in Clarke’s opinion, but she’s too caught up in the sway of hips and the tight T-shirt to really argue. The girl pulls her closer, trying to talk over loud speakers. It’s too deafeningly loud to make anything she says out. Instead, Clarke just focuses on the feeling of a soft hand coming up to her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Clarke pulls her in by the loops of her belt, matching the girl’s rhythm. Clarke feels the sensual power of hips as they glide with the beat. The girl is completely driven by the music, and Clarke gives herself over to it too. 
The song switches, and Clarke is dreading letting her go, but instead of ducking out after a dance, the girl pulls Clarke's hand up and around her neck. They catch each other's eyes while Clarke bites her lip and smiles. The girl presses their heads together and it grows intense again. They’re both breathing hard, practically sharing the same breath with how close they’re pressed together, but Clarke doesn't want to be anywhere other than in this intoxicating stranger’s arms. This stranger who feels like she knows everything about Clarke's body while moving together. Clarke has a vague inkling that her friends might be waiting for her to come back. Fuck it. She’s content right here, right now, focused on this girl. 
It gets a little intense, Clarke can feel the moment building but wants to stretch it out. Wants to stretch this anticipation even longer. That’s always been the best part of a first kiss.  So when Val dips her chin to kiss her, she spins. Presses her back against Val’s chest, feels her groan as her ass settles against her hips. It all feels new and exciting but strangely comforting. Familiar. Hands on hips guide her, trace her thighs and belly, move to grab her own hands and link their fiingers together as they sway. It feels... intimate. More than it should. But Clarke welcomes it. Then Val noses her hair aside, maybe drops a kiss to her neck and nuzzles closer. Then whispers in her ear, "Do you want to get out of here?" 
“God, yes.” Clarke’s almost ashamed at how needy her voice comes out, how quickly she signals to her friends that she’s leaving. But she looks into forest green eyes that are so dark they’re almost black and realizes, maybe she’s not the only one as affected by their connection. 
“I only live a few blocks away,” Clarke admits, making it very clear where she wants this night to go. 
The walk back to Clarke’s apartment is full of heated looks. They don’t stop touching the entire way, whether it’s entwined fingers, an arm slung around shoulders, or tucked into a back pocket. By the time Clarke opens her front door, she’s aching with need. She barely has time to enter the apartment before she finds herself pressed against her own front door. One of them lets out a low groan. Clarke’s not entirely sure it wasn’t her, but things escalate from there. Her jacket is tossed to the floor along with Val’s t-shirt. 
Clarke feels a tongue glide against her bottom lip and opens to meet it against full pouty lips, when she’s suddenly kissing at air. 
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”
“I was very into it. No need to apologize,” Clarke responds, suddenly cold without her jacket and the weight and warmth of another person against her. 
“I just…We’re both pretty drunk. I want to make sure you want this.” She looks nervous, and Clarke steps forward to reassure, “I am more shots than I can count in, but I can assure you, this is exactly what I want.” 
Clarke cups a strong jawline and leans back in to kiss. It’s chaste and sweet, “But if it makes you feel better, we can have some water, sober up a little bit, and then return to this.”
She nods, and Clarke brings her into her tiny kitchen to get them each a glass of water. 
“So, you mentioned you made a big sale?”
“My first official painting sale,” Clarke responds in triumph. 
“What was it of?” 
“Want to see a picture?” Clarke pulls out her phone to get a photo of it. Clarke watches the girl’s eyes roam over the screen, asking if she can hold the phone to zoom in on different areas. She looks enthralled and Clarke’s chest puffs with pride. She smiles at the small birthmark painted on the right hip, and Clarke’s starts to talk about how she likes to add small details like that to make it more personal. While the piece doesn’t give away who the model is by face, the imperfect splotch is a fingerprint in and of itself. 
Val takes a deep breath before returning Clarke’s phone, “It’s beautiful. Was it hard to let go of the painting?” 
“I know that’s the whole point-- selling your art to avoid the whole starving artist thing, but still. It’s hard. Letting go of the painting. I miss it every day.”
“She must have been someone special.” 
“It’s interesting, actually. Every portrait I’ve done, my best work, is always someone real. Friends. Family. A stranger who sat for me. I remember all of them. But I cannot for the life of me remember who she was.”
“Maybe you dreamed of her.” 
“Maybe. I’ve never been one who remembers my dreams though. You remind me of the painting, actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I think so. You just have the same energy as that painting. I’d look at it and I'd get this warm, soft feeling. I don’t remember who she was, but I remember that feeling. Maybe I should have included her face…”
A deep blush rises on sharp cheekbones, and Clarke smiles then continues, “She was also naked and insanely hot, as evidenced by this,” she says gesturing to the erotic pose of the model, “and if I’ve proven my sobriety to you at this point, I’d really like to get to the point where you remind me of the painting for that reason too.” 
There were no more words. No need for such things. Not when Clarke was pulled so easily into this girl's orbit. Not when she had a long neck on display and she could be distracted by the way this girl moaned and writhed when it was kissed. Not when she slid shorts down to find a familiar shape on her right hip. Not when she had a pretty girl between her own legs drawing patterns with her tongue. Not when she felt the bed dip late at night and a quiet re-collection of clothing. That was how Clarke ignored the gnawing feeling of forgetting her muse, and that was a better way to spend her time.
-------------
Clarke wakes up in tangled sheets and a pounding headache. Her muscles are sore in strange places and she swears if that bird doesn’t shut up, she’s going to shoot it. Nothing should be that chipper in the morning. 
Clarke manages to squint open a single eye and grope the top of the bedside table for her phone. She has 63 unread messages from Octavia and Raven. 
    Raven: Did you get some? 
    Octavia: You told us you were leaving with, and I quote “a goddess”
    Raven: Was she a good lay? 
    Raven: Was she hot?
    Raven: Was she everything you wanted? 
    Raven: Did you fuck her in the bathroom?
    Raven: I am soooooooo drunk. I don’t even remember what she looked like. 
    Raven: Send nudes. 
    Raven: Of her. We’ve both seen your stuff. 
    Octavia: Ray, they’re probably still busy 😏
What are they talking about? Clarke’s pretty sure she would remember going home with a goddess. Although… her sheets are pretty twisted… she is naked… and there’s a glass of water and some ibuprofen on her nightstand that she certainly didn’t have the wherewithal to set out last night. Did she go home with someone? 
She types out a response.
Clarke: I honestly don’t remember anything about last night. 
Someone looking for a quick fuck, who sneaks out before the other person wakes up doesn’t leave water and ibuprofen out for them. Confused, Clarke shrugs on a shirt from the floor and surveys the apartment. No one in her bathroom. No forgotten clothing. She checks a mirror. No hickeys. Then why does she have a delicious soreness in her thighs? Why is her left forearm a bit achey? There are two water glasses sitting on her kitchen counter. What happened last night?
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Fic: All You Knead is Loaf (Mowen x Lan Jue x Zhang Ping;Modern AU, PWP)
A/N: Because @xinxiaojie​ was kind enough to send me this picture at five minutes to two in the am and thus fed the thirst. It is now sober hours. And you get a new fic. Yay us.
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I don’t know how spicy these lemons are for you, but. Yeah. 
Spicy Lemons ahoy 🌶️🍋 (for those uninitiated on the unholy ways of this blog, “spicy lemons” or 🌶️🍋 mean pR0n) ENJOY YAAHAHAHHA I’m running on four hours of sleep here soz soz
[still accepting ALoN fic prompts]
~*~*~*~
The kitchen is an absolute mess. Someone’s upended a bag of flour on the floor and Zhang Ping thinks he spies traces of an egg on their pristine ceiling. In the fuzzy reaches of his mind, he feels a desperate draw to check on the oven, but none of that matters as much when Mowen’s crooking his stupidly beefy fingers, catching them against his prostate with a divine efficiency that only his lover can do.
“That good, huh?”
The smug bastard has the audacity to chuckle, not even a whit out of breath or gasping even as he’s fucking Peizhi on their kitchen counter through the throes of his orgasm. 
Pale skin flushed, beautiful face slack, mouth parted and panting, Zhang Ping delights in the way he is undone by the pleasure that paints his belly in pretty ribbons of pearlescent.
“Pretty Ping’er,” Mowen drawls sweetly. Zhang Ping watches under his lashes when he pulls his come coated cock out of a weakly protesting Peizhi. Still hard, he grips it by the base, nudging it to the back of Zhang Ping’s thigh, smearing the mess on his skin. 
Then, as if a sudden thought occurs to him, Mowen asks, voice quiet and earnest in a shift from just a second ago. “Can I?”
There’s a certain truth to the way the three of them loves - Zhang Ping shows it in every meal he makes and every way he does to make their life together as comfortable as he can, Peizhi provides and gives and protects them in every shade he can cast with his abilities. And Mowen, their darling, brash and confident man, catches them both when they fall, asking for very little in return but these small moments where he is laid bare for them. 
They complete and complement each other.
So, what is Zhang Ping to say other than a contented, “Yes, of course.”
Mowen moves his fingers out of Zhang Ping’s ass. He hisses at the discomfort, but rolls his waist into the grip of Mowen’s hands, racking his own digits through his hair to anchor himself at the blunt press of Mowen’s cock at his hole. “Don’t tease,” He says, working for stern, coming out more like a whine.
“He’s a bad, bad man, isn’t he, Ping’er?”
Peizhi’s hoarse laughter has him tilting his face. Eyes crinkled with tired amusement, he leans in, “C’mere. Kiss me.”
And so, Zhang Ping does.
Allows Peizhi take the lead, blinking sluggishly when a cockhead becomes the sensation of more and then some. He thinks he cries a little when Mowen, without being told to, fucks him to the rhythm of his rapid beating heart. 
“So good. So perfect just for me, just for us,” Mowen purrs over the dirty, sloppy slap of their skin. Zhang Ping thinks his brain shorts out at the way he fills him up, legs shaking as he tries to keep his balance. “Beautiful Ping’er...”
He hums into Peizhi’s mouth, moaning a little when the man licks right back into his own. He feels fucked dumb. It feels like heaven.
“One day, we’ll have Mowen fuck you while I’m riding your cock,” Peizhi murmurs around a smile pressed to the corner of Zhang Ping’s mouth, tongue dragging through the thin line of drool that escapes him. “How does that sound?”
The picture of them doing just that slithers into whatever last braincells he has left to rub together. And it undoes him.
When he comes to, the suspicious stain on the ceiling is what greets him. Definitely egg. Zhang Ping giggles at the realisation. Right before another hits him like a tonne of bricks. 
“The cookies!” 
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ruby-red-inky-blue · 2 years
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using @rapidashmascot​‘s glorious tags on this post as a jumping off point (sorry)
Listen it would be funny and ridiculous enough if they just left it at Cassian being 21 in a wanted holo at some point or something, but the fact that this man is very obviously twice that age is actively throwing a wrench in the script, which makes it even funnier.
I haven’t got far into the show yet but take the first scene inside the brothel. It’s actually really good on paper for a number of reasons:
it calls back to the glorious glorious Kafrene scene that introduces us to Cassian in Rogue one, both visually (neon lighting, shady back alleys complete with assorted criminal elements and patrolling military types, the rain) and narratively (Cassian is looking for someone/fishing for information, Cassian is forced to kill someone to get out of a scrape)
it also contrasts that scene nicely: Cassian is not great at getting information yet, he immediately attracts unwanted attention, he keeps showing his face to everybody, he has made little to no effort to blend in. Also, there’s no bigger secret to protect here, no greater good - he kills someone out of fear and then makes a run for it. To an escape he has obviously not planned very well.
the scene plays on a quality Cassian has and that we’ve never seen him use to his advantage, but that we can assume has served him well: He’s handsome, and relatively young (getting to that) - he’s a person people will be more willing to help. Thus, he not only gets served before the other more unpleasant attendees even though he’s clearly not a wealthy customer, but the woman he’s speaking to ignores several questions that would have probably got other customers thrown out, and then is polite about telling him to leave.
So on paper, this all works out great: Cassian is this young, poor and desperate kid who tries to discreetly ask around about someone and immediately draws the attention of the two security guards who mark him as an easy target.
The issue is... the screenwriter was picturing this guy:
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Because if this kid walked into that brothel, you wouldn’t even need much acting to get the point across: no matter how hardened and persuasive he is, he’s not supposed to be there and he’s begging for trouble. Even if he were a bit more muscular (he would be in that kind of life I suppose), two armed middle-aged white men on a power trip would consider him an easy target.
But instead, you get this guy:
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It’s not even really the age (I might go down to a *very* grizzled 35?). It’s the fact that this is a face that has seen some shit. Which is in character for Cassian! But it makes the above scenario kinda laughable. Suddenly, everything that would have looked like a dumb mistake on Tenoch-era Cassian and that would have made him an easy target (coming alone, not fitting in - the clothes, the beard, the accent -, the openly unwelcome questions, the urgency in his tone) now comes off as deliberate. This guy isn’t vulnerable. This guy feels so safe that he can’t be fucking bothered. This is now a power move.
In fact, it evokes a very familiar trope that really works against the script here: the dirty, road-weary lone foreigner coming into the saloon of a little backwater. Sound familiar? Ooops, you’ve made your in-over-his-head baby rebel into the stoic hero of a Western. You’ve even dressed him like one. The idea that two bumbling local sherrifs (that are pretty much his age btw) would think he’d be an easy victim for a robbery is now barely this side of believable. (Not helped by the fact that Diego with that haggard look and the beard just makes me think of Félix, who exuded “might beat you to death with an ashtray and get away with it” vibes almost every second he was on screen, so. that doesn’t help.)
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heartofspells · 2 years
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Read the previous parts here. 
Remus is desperately trying not to fidget as he stares into those blue eyes. Black had given him Polyjuice. He's got an hour – no, fuck. He'd had to wait forever for the old man. Thirty-six minutes. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Why do I have to be you?" Remus had demanded as Black had shoved his jacket over his shoulders.
"Because he'll know what I'm doing if I go," came the simple reply. "He has a way of reading people. Ever noticed that?"
"So why go at all?" Remus had asked through gritted teeth. Black had only smiled in that terrible way of his, sending pinpricks to Remus' fingertips. "If he can read you so well, what makes you think he won't realize it's not you?"
Black stood back, his eyes raking over Remus' body, taking in the jacket, the looseness around his arms and back. His gaze eventually settled on Remus', looking mildly irritated.
"It's Legilimancy," he'd stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's how he does it. I'm good at blocking it out. Dear old Mum trained me from a tender age. Used to sneak in and attack when I least expected it. I got good at pushing people out. But he's…strong. He has ways of getting through. I can't let that happen. He'll stop me."
Remus balked. "You must be joking. This is terrible idea if that's what he's doing! He'll know in two seconds I'm not you."
"He won't," Black had denied easily.
Remus is sweating now, droplets like early-morning dew trickling down the ridges of his spine. Those intense blue eyes stare into his, probing, unwelcoming, but still so serene. Remus isn't sure how the old man does it.
"Just say no in your head," Black had said. "Over and over. Don't think about anything else."
No. No, no.
"I've heard reports," says Dumbledore, fingers steepling over his desktop. They're in his office within Hogwarts, the school that had been Remus' home for so long. It doesn't feel the same anymore, everything washed in shades of grey, black sludge thrown against the walls. Tainted. "Whispers of happenings around the country. People lured from their homes, children missing, families dead. Many have returned permanently altered. They'll never be restored. Would you know anything about that, Mr Black?"
No no no no
Remus doesn't break eye contact with his old headmaster – Black had given specific instructions – but he doesn't respond, and he never ceases in his one-worded mantra. Dumbledore's mouth twitches disdainfully as he sits up straighter.
"I've also heard you've managed to draw Remus Lupin to your side," continues Dumbledore. "A werewolf. There have been whispers of that as well. An intimidating presence, threatening families to someone's will that's not his own."
no no no no no no nononono
"Lupin is a good man. You're corrupting him." Remus can feel the gentle caressing tendrils like fingers in his mind, rooting and probing for information. He doesn't give it. "We tried to get him to stay with us when he said he was leaving. He's clever, a talented duelist. Unassuming when he wants to be. He was a strong ally. Trusted."
no no no no nonononono – Lies!
Remus had felt the distrust of him growing, had seen it in his friends' eyes when they looked at him. When he'd left, no one had said a word. They'd let him go. They'd never fought for him. Remus' hands clench into fists at his sides.
"Release him, Mr Black," utters Dumbledore, still the picture of calm, blue fire in his intense gaze, "before you cripple a good man with your own brand of darkness you refuse to relinquish, no matter the opportunities presented to you."
Remus is raging silently in his head, trying viciously to keep his mantra going, but it's waning. He has to go. He's not sure what Black had hoped to accomplish with this, but Remus can't stay any longer.
"Fuck off," he hisses, and then he's turning his back for the second time and walking away.
@wolfstarmicrofic
Prompt: dew
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acourtofquestions · 28 days
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The Assassin and the Desert
— (thoughts while doing my first read) —
Is Ansel the person referenced in Crown of Midnight? The one who taught Celaena about the witches? Does that mean SHE will be the betrayer??? … is this the same person she said “she’d kill” if she ever saw again?!? (These are rhetorical thoughts; more theory than question😂).
The entire time Celaena is talking about these shoes shoes (and really it’s written like poetry; when she compares them to calligraphy👌👌👌) but all I am picturing is green Elf style curly shoes🤣🤦‍♀️… then again those would make a statement sooo…
“and why Arobynn had thought he'd need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.” — YEAH I THINK ABOUT THAT TOO CELAENA (Sam🥹😭… ugh this angsty/pining true-soulmate childhood love trope is going to BREAK MEEEE🖤)
Wait… is this where we learn the Asterion Mare tale?!
“Saying that she was sorry didn't feel adequate. She knew what this sort of loss was like, and words didn't do anything at all. ‘Where do men find it in themselves to do such monstrous things? How do they find it acceptable’” — The way Sarah writes sisterhood & female friendship is very special; honestly one of my favorite parts of her books & writing style. She hits the nail on the head 👏EVERY🥹DAM🥰TIME😭 — (not me crying cause Celaena isn’t under the stars sad and alone this time) … this is why Nehemia mattered so much😭
— also if I had a nickel for every time she said “silver lined eyes”🤣
Celaena taking the blame for Ansel because she thinks she doesn’t have a purpose but Ansel does🖤
Every time Celaena flinches I both want to hug her, hug Sarah, hug younger me, (kill Arobynn… I’m with ya Sam😅) and then thank all of them for the trauma representation; heartbreaking as it may be it’s pretty real for a fantasy series, and their is comfort in shared trauma through that lens.❤️‍🩹
EVERYTHING HAS A PRICE (giving me Ruin & Rising levels of fear here Sarah😬) — “but I’ve seen this episode and still loved the show”
It’s lovely to see Celaena be young & normal-ish; like she’s still a teenage girl in this book, she’s mortified over her first kiss, obsessed with shoes, making new friends, recklessly having fun… smiling for once… there’s an innocent joy in this book; one we never see in the post-Assassin’s Blade series…
… I think reading it post-Crown of Midnight (when I am) is especially perfect because you understand her & the books better (including tiny references like the Ironteeth witches & Asterion mares) … There’s also a sense of grief seeing her before it all “ended”, you already understand her now & now you do then too; which makes her make EVEN MORE sense; its not quite a “lost humanity”, but a grieving of lost innocence. — Despite all she had already been through, there were still these little pieces of life kept for herself back then; and something preciously heartbreakingly accurate to girlhood within them.
Despite having never been in love and not known much love Celaena seems to understand it better than most… there’s a special thing to that within her character; her joys resilience, drive for love, and draw toward goodness.
She finally feels safe… at peace🥹 (if only Sam were there… it would be home🥹😭💔)
Oh NO; normal teenage girl drama fight, meets highly trained traumatized assassins; this feels dangerous!!!
NOT FAERIE WINE AGAIN🤦‍♀️… wow if only Celaena had a nickel everytime someone tried TO POISON HER😅😱🫥
THE STOLEN RING DETAIL/CLUE
Celaena is giving Ahsoka vibes
THAT damned gloriella AGAIN
Her, seeing The Master trying desperately to save his son; doing what a good father should. Meanwhile in opposition her “father figure” Arobynn who was the one to first draw blood
“Wincing as blood from her face dripped to his white clothes” — “A pang of guilt at the sight of her blood staining Arobynn’s exquisite red carpet” — One my heart broke at these lines; she literally feels sorry for bleeding! Two the difference within the Master in white (unstained, untouched, pure) clothes and the Master with red (already red like blood) RED carpet; that she still feels sorry to bleed onto… it’s ALREADY red—he’s the one who drew blood—& yet she’s the one who feels guilty.
Is the foreign language he reads & speaks Wyrd?
SHE WAS NOT AFRAID!
… don’t tell me she gets back and Sam is a Courtesan (or some form of indenture) that’s going to require her gold & stop her from leaving😅PLEASE😅I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS😬
The note of the silent Master’s footsteps & lack of cruel punishment, in comparison to Arobynn’s fear invoking silence & unjust cruelty… the fear she feels just standing in front of him once again, feeling little again within minutes of coming back from months of near-freedom… barely a few pages in to The Assassin and the Underworld and I can tell it’s going to crush my heart — isn’t it?!
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dexaroth · 1 year
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it's kind of a fun move to make my very very personal blog also the one I post my drawings on
ive purposefully done it to not create that kind of environment where it's just an account posting art, a one-dimensional abstract thing that's so detached that if I were to post something like 'teehee I tried to off myself so I'm opening comms to pay the bills' it'd be met with utmost surprise bc it'd break the illusion yknow?
but sometimes I do want some drawings to not have context. to be as impersonal as a vintage figure whose sculptor has never been fully known or a golden locket with the picture of someone who you don't know anything about
I want both, to be honest. it's always been a struggle of the need of external validation but also to not want to taint everything with myself
I want to draw a pet portrait for someone and not have it be judged with all the ramblings and half-jokes about how everything sucks every now and then.
I want to draw a guy being mechanically separated for no reason and not have it show up besides someone's pet portrait and having to explain to the average person I don't even know why I like gore so much besides rendering it is fun
it's all like a cycle of making it clear who is behind the art for context but also sometimes wanting everything to speak for itself and wanting a sort of pure reaction to it
and it culminates into that overly familiar feeling.. of wanting to be consistent. to have a feel, a look that you can maybe hope someone will identify as yours.. and the question is always the same - for what? why? why does it matter?
if anything the first thing I'd ever say to someone who remotely showed interest in art and wanted to know my side of it is that nothing matters and everything is subjective and that there will always be people who see too much meaning where there isn't and people who miss the point entirely. and that diversity is just as good as quality and not a binary switch that you have to pick for the rest of your life. and that often by trying to achieve perfection you just end up dumping what gave your art a personal touch because it wasn't absolutely on par with the version of you that you so desperately want people to identify you with or the vibe you want to give off or whatever else
it's kind of a problem that also has different connotations depending on the way wherever you post works, too
on devart and I think insta too favorites and likes are the easiest way to show a kind of support that happens to streamline everything into images on a page instead of actually taking in most detail, the title or description or lack thereof, maybe even a message or line or music lyric intended to aid in the perception.. that ends up getting completely ignored because it takes extra effort to do. and it gets exponentially worse the more people you follow
then, well.. tumblr. because of the way the posts are organized and at least show captions it has a bit of a leg up, but then the sideblog stuff comes up. posts 95% of the time only give traction to the account that posted it, so a sideblog where you reblog your art is pretty much just a gallery for the convenience of whoever follows them. if you post on that sideblog however, then that facilitates no one visiting your main and just looking at the drawings, leading to the art-artist detachment as it is also plenty of extra steps and effort
then, independently, the path you choose is hard to undo. choose to be unknown and be bound to the façade you have to keep and not break your persona, or put all bits of yourself out to the public and there will forever be an image/ background version of you that will contextualize everything you do
try to turn around and choose to hide and it will put people off and affect how some will look at your new stuff now that you're less of a social butterfly because of the instinct of curiosity and wanting to know what happened , choose to show yourself and now you're too real and people don't want to associate with you because of the things you express or how it hits different knowing x and y or just not caring about you enough to be bothered to keep up with your life with sporadic drawings inbetween
it's all ironically about your own self-image and knowing others who know you
oh and it just hit me the financial side of things too. but that's too much for me rn and it's sort of a bonus to my point anyways
idk man. I feel like I'm having a stroke while an influencer tries to explain branding to me
#the public vs hidden thing is also like trying to balance the evils#do you want to enable being made fun of by quirky neurotypicals and edgelords bc of ur 'archetype'#or do you want to enable everyone to put any meaning to your art including dogshit ones and treat it like a commodity#public enough to have your name or style used pejoratively to describe other people#or hidden enough to blend in and represent nothing and say nothing. just like a blank piece of paper#these two sort of types are everywhere and there just doesnt seem to be a grey area. its just.... awkward.#ah yes look at my painting and tell me what you think of it! dont take me into consideration at all though. pretend this came out of thin>#>air bc thats how i want it to be perceived. bc of course we all know thats a thing that can be controlled by sheer will right? lol#i want to draw whatever. i want to stop giving a shit. not care of what people think its all about. but i want to be seen as well. ..#and its frustrating bc i find it immeasurably valuable to find meaning in the mundane#to find the whimsy and care on someone's 'bad' stickman cat doodle even tough sketches dont mean barely anything to the artist#and then i get sad when someone below my skill level finds My sketches good despite me posting them as a 'look at how bad this looks lol'#just. being desperate for wanting everything to go your way#like a filmmaker who swears the theater is an integral part of their movie when in reality a guy watching at home cherishes it just as much#i think id turn inside out of disgust if i ever truly legitimally considered all the 'wrong' ways people can experience my art#compressed to hell or they just didnt bother to zoom in and didnt notice the brushstrokes and effects#which is totally normal and common and i myself do it! but my ego says nuh uh. go feel bad bc other ppl have agency lol#i can definitely pretend i dont care anymore and even try to believe it so much i unconsciously start assimilating it#but the Moment someone comments something that contradicts what i thought and wished was happening i just. break .#im truly trying to stave off negative thoughts and teaching myself that what others think of me doesnt define me#and one day im overhearing something i wasnt meant to know and its that someone thinks im a child#and ends up treating me like one. like im too stupid to do anything#and then i look back at my eyestrain/cartoonish stuff thats in fact considered childish by people who try to use age as>#a token of 'i dont enjoy X because X is for kids because/therefore im an AdulT! respect me!'#and i just have to face the reality that thats the image of me my art gives off by itself and what society chose it to symbolize as well#which it all leads to wanting so deeply a way to control how others view you because of how age gate-keeping for example is so stupid#and it bleeds into every other feeling and paranoia and self doubt#either you act cool and lie about who you are or let others label you what they see fit especially what they consider to be deserving of>#>ridicule#dextxt
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kazuwhora · 3 years
Note
hi babe... um... may I ask... for... more visuals please... 🥺👉🏾👈🏾
hehe of course my love I personally am saving these for my own entertainment you didn't mention which characters so I just put the first ones on my mind! hope thats ok!
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ft: kokonoi, kazutora, yuzuha, ran, rindou, senju, && wakasa
cw: lots of NSFW visuals so MINORS DNI. idk what else to tag here because its literally porn so have at it. I guess cw for lesbian porn lmao. face slapping, face fucking, blow jobs, fingering, oral (both receiving), edging, scratching, idfk.
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KOKONOI
koko likes to fuck you slow, taking every moment to enjoy the way your walls tighten and tense around his cock. he gets drunk on the feeling of you, and he never wants the euphoria to end. especially that first thrust inside you feeling the stretch of your cunt just to take his cock. he’s obsessed with it.
he’ll fuck you like this in the early morning when he’s just had the prettiest dream about fucking his cum inside you
he’ll fuck you like this when he’s tried so hard to be good about not thinking about your dripping cunt but just cant hold himself back
he’ll fuck you like this after a bonten meeting when he’s waited so long to see your pretty pussy and just can’t wait any longer
he’ll fixate on your body like this as if he’ll never get to touch you again
he’ll fuck you like this after a long day when his brain and body couldn’t possibly think of anything else but your sweet cunt wrapped around his cock
he’ll fuck you like this after you make him breakfast in the morning like the good girl you are and he just can’t help but treat you to your reward
and he’ll let you ride him like this on his day off when both of you just want to relax but poor koko can’t keep his thoughts away from the image of you using his cock until you cum
KAZUTORA
I'll say it once again, kazutora likes to be tortured and teased. he wants you to embarrass him by making him cum just by touching his skin, he wants you to prove how weak he is for you by edging him and ruining his high. kazutora wants you to feel worshipped, obsessed over, loved. all the things he never felt until you came into his life, he wants you to feel.
he'll fall apart for you like this when you've teased him all day to the point where even the simplest of grazes against his sensitive skin can make him leak
he'll stutter and struggle like this when you finally give him the relief he's been begging for all day, so needy and whiny for you
he'll obsess over your pussy like this for hours doing whatever he can to get closer and closer to your heat- anything to taste you
he'll let you edge him like this so he can try his very best to hold on for you, even though his attempts fail because you're just too much for him
he'll let you mark him up like this so that every time he steps foot outside with his shirt unbuttoned the slightest bit, everyone will know who he belongs to and how good you make him feel.
he'll beg for handjobs like this because he so badly wants to show you how much he can cum for you
and he'll fuck your thighs like this when he wants to show you how easily you can make him cum no matter what you do
YUZUHA
yuzuha wants to get lost in the intensity of you. she wants to get lost in your body, savour every aspect of you like it’s her last time. she gets carried away easily, valuing sensuality that quickly progresses to intense desperation.
she'll press you up against the wall like this, the sexual tension from kissing alone enough to leave her dripping and desperate for you
she'll take pictures with you like this, opening her hidden album on her phone every now and then to look at it while she draws circles around her clit. also like this
she'll take her time undressing you like this, savouring the perfume left on your skin, and the way you practically beg for her to go faster
she'll use her pretty toys with you like this, enamoured by the harmony of your bodies as the vibrations overtake you
she'll fall apart for the sensuality she shares with you like this, drunk on your pleasure while it lingers in the air
RAN
ran wants to worship you, put you first, romance you like you’re his first. he wants nothing more than for you to feel special, like his sweet little princess who deserves the whole world and he’s ready to give it to you. he wants to fuck you slow and sensual, basking in the pleasure of your body.
he'll whine and groan for you like this early in the morning when he gets lost in the way you feel around his cock and the way you treat him like a king
he'll melt with your body pressed against his like this as and he thinks he could cum just from touching you
he'll ask you to ride his face like this so he can drown in your pussy, drunk on your juices that coat his lips as you use him as your own personal fucktoy
and he'll fuck you like this when he's had enough softness and needs to feel himself bottoming out inside you
RINDOU
unlike his brother, rindou likes to fuck you hard and fast. he wants to see his cock bulging in your mouth, stretching your lips, he wants to make you sob for him, beg for your high. he’s a sucker for your overstimulation, and lives to watch you shake and cum for him.
he'll wake you up like this when he's feeling needy in the middle of the night and wont settle for anything less
he'll play with you like this when you dress up in the pretty outfits he bought just to watch himself ruin them
but he'll fuck you hard like this when he's had enough playing around and wants to show you how good he can make you feel
he'll fuck you like this even when he's tired because something about watching you lose all control underneath him has him seeing stars
he'll put you in your place like this when you get a little too bratty and need to be taught a lesson
and he'll reward you like this for being a good girl and listening to his instructions when he tells you to
SENJU
senju is all about balance. she wants to give as much as she receives, but it’s easy for her to lose her composure to you. she’s sensitive, and easy to submit to your control. she cant help that she wants you to undo her composure so badly.
she'll get lost in you like this after a long day when all she's thought about is coming home to you and only you
she wont be able to keep her hands off of you like this even when she's got somewhere to be
she'll play with your clit in the bath like this because not a moment goes by where she's able to keep her hands away from you
but she'll also want you to hug her like this so she can feel protected and safe every now and then
and she'll beg for you to fuck her like this when she's feeling extra bratty and needy, which seems to happen more and more often
WAKASA
wakasa just really fucking wants to make you feel good. he could get off on making you cum with his fingers alone, and the thing is that he knows he’s good at it too. he has this carefree attitude about making you cum so easily and might even taunt you about it, but he cant deny the lust that builds inside him every time that drives him over the edge of control.
he'll obsess over watching is cock stretch your mouth like this, the delicateness of your tongue making him cum all over you
he'll fuck deep into you like this because he loves getting lost in your hair, completely enveloped and trapped into his own little world that you're the centre of
he'll make you ride his thigh like this when he's overworked and wants to see how easy it is to make you cum with no effort
he can't keep his hands off your tits like this whenever you wear anything tight and he's so obsessive over it that sometimes he can't let you wear certain clothes because he just can't help himself
he'll make you cum like this when you've been so good for him, but he can't hold himself back from needing to fuck you hard
and he'll play with your pussy like this if you've tested his patience one too many times but he's too obsessed with the way you fall apart for him to leave you alone
2K notes · View notes
springalwayscomes · 3 years
Text
Not even a gift
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Plot: Since the moment Jungkook saw your ass he swore he never saw something that beautiful. But then you turned around, and well, that was a total different thing. The poor man couldn’t even stand beside you without embarassing himself or embarassing you, and evey time seems to get worse and worse and...worse. 
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Dancer AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut, One Shot
Wordcount: 30k
Content Warning: Jungkook can’t stop embarassing himself, swearing, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, awkard situations, masturbation, sexual fantasies, a lot - a lot - of fluff, Reader with stress issues, overwhelming parents, trust issues
A/N: I wrote this when I was just joining the fandom, last year for Kookie’s birthday. I remember wanting to pst this so badly but it stayed in my drafts because I wasn’t sure it was good enough and I was a little insecure about the ending. I told to myself that someday I’d rewrite a new ending and post this, but knowing myself and how I work with my writing, I know that that day will never come because even if did so, I’ll probably end up with not liking my style of writing anymore and editit all out, leave it like this or delate it. So I told myself that I’d rather prefer to publish it. cause at the end this story was incredibly funny to write - sometimes I would laugh all alone like an idiot while writing it - and to be honest I think it’s pretty good. It’s the very first fanfiction I wrote about BTS so it’s also very meaningful for me. For reasons as the ones I already mentioned I decided to not edit this, so you might find some grammatical errors, please understand that this was the first time I wrote something from scratch in english. If you’d like to read it in episodes I’m going to publish it on youtube as a series too, where you’ll be able to live the full experience of the story since there you can visualize it too, as for the story it’s exactly the same as here. Enjoy reading this one, I know you’ll have fun!
Watch the first episode on Youtube
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Since the moment Jungkook saw your ass he swore he never saw something that beautiful. It wasn’t just fit and solid, it was the way you were moving it on the beat, making it look like something he’d die to touch, squeeze, hold.
That was the very first thing he noticed about you.
He couldn’t help but fantasize how you’re face would look, watching your back from the doorframe of the ballroom. He imagined you sweat, little drops forming on your forehead caused by the the movements. He tried to focus his attention on the other dancers, fixating his gaze on the girl beside you making the exact same moves as you, but something about your presence kept on calling him like you were a mermaid and he was a poor sailor.
His dark doe-eyes ended again on your body, being in the last row it was hard for him to find your reflection in the mirror, other bodies moving endlessly making him grimace. He was running out of time, the poor man got stuck in traffic on his way here, already twenty minutes late, and god knows why he stopped looking at you dancing.
He shook his head when even after the music stopped your back was still facing him, not that he minded, but he was really dying to know how your face would look like.
Someone must have been both incredibly hungry and in love with him, cause a second later, you were bending over, resting your elbows on your thighs and giving him an even more beautiful view of your ass while trying to catch your breath. 
Breath stuck in his lungs, Jungkook gulped hard, making his adam’s apple jump up and down.
The girl next to you said something that made you laugh, back invaded by the spasms of your laughter, something he couldn’t hear because of all the talking that was going on in the room. He wished he could. He imagined your voice, soft and sweet, and soon enough is mind was already wondering about your features.
Snorting and getting out of his trance, he remembered himself he had to practice. Ready to take the first step away from the ballroom which he didn’t belong to, he shook his head a second time and turned, ready to leave his thoughts about you in that room and never meet them again.
But a second song started. And this time, he recognized the beat. Holding his breath again, he faced the entrance with a speed that got him shocked by himself.
Your hips were moving again, slowly and sensually, hands drawing abstract shapes in the air, hair attached to your skin. Your sweat shorts were doing nothing to hide your skin from his dark eyes, all he could think about was the way it seemed to shine under the lights of the room and the way your sweat would make it look even more glowing.
He hissed through his teeth, trying to push away the though of his hands against your skin, the way he’d like to trace your thighs with his fingers, leave pecks against your body and mark your hips with his lips. He brought his gaze back on your ass, sinful eyes burning against your skin and jaw clenching, Jungkook licked his lips and watched you arch your back before bringing your left leg to your head, holding it with your hands as you tiptoed your right foot.
«How long have you been here?»
He literally jumped, locking his gaze with whoever gave him a heart attack. Standing beside him, looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes wide were Yoongi.
«I-»
«You know this is the wrong room, right?» he looked at him with a blank expression, trying to understand what Jungkook was actually doing standing at the doorframe of a different studio, without even caring about the fact he should be practicing with him and the others.
«I know, I was just... looking around.» he managed to let out, before taking a deep breath and stepping towards Yoongi.
The moment he realized he was rocking a half-hard just by his previous sight, he clenched his jaw and gulped again. If Yoongi had already noticed his situation then he wouldn’t know cause his face was no longer on him, neck turned to peek into the room that stole the maknae’s attention before. The youngest one used that moment to bring his bag in front of him, and then headed to their dance class trying not to draw too much attention.
That was the first time he saw you.
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Jungkook dropped his bag to the ground as soon as he entered his bedroom, removing his sneakers and his socks he headed to his bathroom in a matter of seconds, begging to feel the cold drops of water wash away all the sweat on his skin and the heat of his body, even though the last one wasn’t because of the workout.
His cock was aching, so damn hard and throbbing against his sweat pants.
He wished they finished their practice just a few seconds sooner. Dancing was a pain in the ass today, all he wanted to do was head back to your doorframe and peek at you, loose his gaze on your body, trying to steal a glance of your face.
But still, it didn’t happen. He couldn’t help but think about how’d you look during the three hours of rehearsals, he thought about it so much that now he had a clear image of you in his mind. And it was pretty platonic, almost inaccessible.
He removed his shirt and his pants, letting them fall on the ground, and then turned on the water, already hooking his fingers under the elastic band of his boxers. He was so hard that it ached.
Jungkook took a deep breath and palmed himself through the material, immediately hissing at the touch. Deciding it was not enough he let the cloth slowly fall to the ground, creating a wall around his ankles that he surpassed in a second getting in the shower.
He didn’t waste time on lathering, he just shut the glass door and closed his eyes while bringing his hand to his shaft. The fingertip of his thumb collected the precum leaking out of his slit, moving over his head and making him clench his jaw shut, breath already uneven.
He though about the way you moved your hips, he’d like to hold them tight and down on the bed while fucking into you. He’d take such a good care of you. He’d fuck you so good, making you whimper and moan every time he’d hit your g-spot, he’d squeeze your ass in his big hands, leaving marks as a reminder of his touch. He’d kiss your skin, he’d kiss your neck and he wouldn’t even mind tasting the sweat caused by your rehearsals today, but in his mind, that’d be caused by what you two are doing.
Jungkook groaned and stroked himself, bringing his hand now to his base and tightening his grip around his girth. Throbbing, pulsating cock begging to release all his seed.
His movements were firm and clear, his fist moving so fast that his wrist was hurting, head falling back, mouth agape and eyebrows knitted together. The sound of his movements blended with the clatter of the water, his shoulders raising from time to time because of the heavy breathing, hips bucking against his hand. He wished it was you, the only part he’d seen of you, he desperately wished he was fucking your ass, so, so hard he’d make you whine and cry in pleasure. He imagined the sounds you’d made, and even though he didn’t even know how your voice sounded or how you looked, he already knew that it’d be his new favorite sound.
«Fuck» he groaned, fucking his cock in his hand even harder, moving his hips and meeting his hand halfway. He bit his lower lip, flesh aching and almost bleeding under his teeth, bringing his free hand to his heavy balls and massaging them. His pace fastened even more if it’s possible, his hips were snapping so hard into his hand picturing your ass in its place, he was so close he could taste it. He pictured your body bent over his bed, taking him so nicely, moaning out loud and clenching around his greedy cock, so needy and so damn wet for him.
«God, fuck» he growled, shoving fast into his hand. He wished he knew your face, he’d like to picture you taking his big cock in your lips. He already know they’d look so damn beautiful around his girth, gagging and drooling for him, he’d hold your head still and fuck himself into your pretty lips so good, letting you eat all of his seed.
That, that was what brung him to his apex. Abs contracting and rough breath, muscles tightening and eyes squinting, lips open letting out low groans.
«Fucking hell»
Hot white spatters stained his hand and chest as he rode his orgasm, keep shoving himself into his hand. The water washed away his seed, it disappeared so fast he didn’t even see it, and when he opened his eyes he took some time to catch his breath leaning against the wall behind him.
His mind went blank, for just a little. He couldn’t think of anything else than the idyllic orgasm he just had, just the thought of it made his cheeks flash red.
Then, the thoughts hit him. He didn’t even know your name, and here he was, masturbating over you. He was going to change that.
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The second time Jungkook saw you he did  not rush out of his house thirty minutes earlier than he was supposed to. He couldn’t help but ask to himself what was going on with him, he certainly knew he never felt the need to see someone he didn’t even know. God, you didn’t even noticed him. Standing at the doorframe of your rehearsals room, looking at you move your body in such a charming way he swore he never see someone dance like that. Why were you in the last row? You deserved to be in the first one, that wasn’t fair. But, in that way he couldn’t see you, so he stored the information at the back of his mind. When you stopped your movements and you suddenly disappeared into the crowd, he again remembered to himself that he didn’t even know what he was doing.
Come on, was he really going to stand there for about other ten minutes and watch  you dance without doing nothing? He desperately wanted to know how your face looked, by now he could say he had a perfect picture of you in his head. And if he was right, you were probably the best thing he ever seen. 
Just the thought made him lick his lips, taking a deep nervous breath. He needed to talk to you. But what would he say? “Hi, I’ve been watching you dance”? Ew, definitely no. He tried to come up with other possibilities but his mind was totally blank, panic making his way through his thoughts and taking every part of him, leaving him only with sweaty hands and an adam’s apple gulping in his throat.
«Jungkook»
A voice made him turn, his gaze suddenly traveled to his right side.
«Oh, hey» he blurted out, Taehyung was staring at him with an arched eyebrow and inquisitive eyes.
«What were you doing?» the oldest one got closer, his hands in his pockets and a slight smile forming on his lips. Jungkook shook his head.
«Mh- I- waiting» he stuttered. His friend knitted his eyebrows looking at him for just a few seconds, then his gaze met the ballroom in front of them, where Jungkook’s was again scanning bodies, trying to find yours.
«Are you looking for someone?» Teahyung asked, receiving just a shake with his head from the youngest. But he knew better than that, he knew Jungkook well, maybe too much, he couldn’t even try to hide something from him.
When his eyes finally found you again, Teahyung knew it was you, he could just tell by the way he opened his lips, forming a little “oh”, his eyes never leaving your body.
«So you were waiting, uh?» he scoffed.
«Yes?» the maknae wanted to punch himself in the face, that was not supposed to come out as a question.
«Do you know her name?» Taehyung asked. He turned away in the blink of an eye, staring at him with wide eyes. It took him a few seconds to understand he’s been caught, but eventually he decided to just sigh and shake his head again. «Well, I know it» he shrugged like he had just said nothing. Jungkook looked at him with an unreadable expression, trying to understand if what he just heard was real or if he just imagined it. He studied Taehyung’s face like he was some kind of poem, carefully and thoughtfully, wisely looking for a hint to tell him he was just playing with him, but he really seemed serious.
«I can introduce her to you?» he turned to look at him, the youngest was playing with his fingers, eyes staring at the floor, all of his confidence seemed to fade away.
«Why?» he asked.
«What do you mean why?» Taehyung almost laughed at the maknae’s words, and he almost felt guilty. Almost.
«I- I don’t know...» he sighed. Why was he even acting like this? He wanted to talk to you, desperately wanted to know how your face looked like, his imagination was sending him crazy. How did he even ended up like this? He just saw you dance and his mind wasn’t his anymore, constantly wondering about your face. There was just something about you that was making him insanely curious.
«Oh, come on!» unexpectedly, the hyung grabbed him by his arm, making him almost loose his balance while dragging him into the room, taking big steps towards you. No one seemed to notice what was happening externally or inside of Jungkook, heart beating a mad pace, slippy hands like he just dipped them in the water, mind shocked and freaking out attempting to find anything, literally anything that could’ve helped him. Anything would’ve been good, anything for saving him from who knows what his mind was thinking, neither he could understand himself. He never felt more afraid to speak to someone in his life, he swore. Why was he even freaking out? He couldn’t find an answer in those few seconds that divided you from him, and he ended up behind you sooner than he realized. His body instantly tensed.
Teahyung, like the amazing friend he was, tapped your right shoulder, making sure to keep his grip tight on Jungkook’s arm, afraid he would’ve run away at the first opportunity. And he would’ve.
«Yes?» turning, you met the hyung gaze, two deep dark eyes staring at you, breath held in his throat. Damn, you were beautiful.
Oh, God.
That was the first thought that passed Jungkook’s mind when he finally saw your face, all of his fantasies immediately falling to the ground, breaking into a million pieces. He didn’t even know someone that beautiful could exist. His eyes staring at your face like some kind of piece of art. He definitely did not expect you to look like this, he did not see it coming. He thought you were beautiful, but God, not like this.
«Bye» that was the first and last word Taehyung blurted out, finally releasing Jungkook’s arm. Then, he simply walked away, like he did not just leave you two alone, like nothing. You raised your eyebrows, stunned by what just happened looking at the man head to the door and then simply disappear in the hallway. When you realized you were left with someone you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, shifting your gaze from the corridor to the man in front of you.
In that moment, Jungkook’s heart started beating even faster, if that was possible. His dark doe-eyes stared into yours for a few moments, not even blinking, mouth agape and breath caught in his throat. He looked like he just saw something... something really-
«Am I that ugly?» you blurted out.
When he realized you were actually talking to him, he felt the need to hide, run away, he wanted the earth to open under his feet and engulf him in. His cheeks flashed red, eyes finally starting to blink.
«No I-» his throat was dry, so he swallowed hard and tried to get a little bit of his nerve back.
«I-I just didn’t expect you to be like t-this»
What? Now he really wanted to hide, what the hell was he thinking? Nothing, his mind was totally blank. He didn’t even remember how to create an actually real sentence.
«Sorry?» you asked. Only then, he realized how your voice sounded, definitely lower than he thought. And he loved it.
«Uh- Oh God. I’m sorry»
And that was it, the end of your first conversation. Jungkook looked at your face for just a second more, than his legs did the job for him, he wasn’t even thinking straight, mind totally blown away and panic invading every rational part of him. He simply turned and started running away, disappearing in the hallway just like his friend did a matter of seconds before.
You grimaced, left standing in the rehearsals room, eyes following his tall and muscled figure until you were left with nothing but confusion.
What had just happened?
That was the second time Jungkook saw you.
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He was drawing again, eyes fixated on the sheet in front of him, colors over colors over colors, sketches and shapes that apparently didn’t have any meaning. It was just a mess, overlapped lines with circles and circles with blurred shapes that he didn’t even know could exist.
He was desperately trying to take his mind off of what he had done, but it didn’t seem to work.
Probably, he was just taking everything too much to heart, and he knew that. He knew he was making a big deal of something stupid but he couldn’t help the way he was feeling.
Why did he have to act like that? Why did he walk away in that way? You possibly thought he was just some jerk playing around, and only that thought made him clench his jaw. But that was his last problem. Not only he did made you think he was an idiot, but he made you feel uncomfortable without even trying. The words you said and the sound of your voice kept on echoing in his mind like one of those stupid songs you can’t seem to send away.
Were you joking? Probably? Did he really made you think he was looking at you in that way cause you were ugly? God, you were way too far from that for him.
And above all of that, why did he even say something like that?
“I didn’t expect you to be like this”, God, what was he thinking about? And what did you think of that stupid sentence? Jungkook let out a low groan, the thoughts invading his head were making it impossible to focus on the drawing.
What the hell did Taehyung do? He said he was going introduce you to him, why did he left like that?
When Jungkook entered their rehearsal room the hyung simply smiled at him and winked in his way, like he had just made some kind of magic happen between you too. Well, it didn’t happen. Everything was just a fucking mess, and the biggest thing heaving on Jungkook’s shoulders was that that was the first time you ever saw him, the first impression you had about him. Now it was gonna be three times harder for him to even talk to you, let alone make a move on you. Jungkook didn’t even answer Tae’s wink, only wanting to end the rehearsals already and go straight home to drown into sleep. But it was late, and he certainly wasn’t sleeping.
Jungkook huffed letting his pencil hit the wooden table.
Was he going to try to change what happened or was he going to leave everything like that? Sure as hell, he wanted to know you. But he just couldn’t help himself, he never felt more frightened in his life to talk to a girl as now, and that feeling made him feel helplessly under pressure. What was he even going to say if every time he opened his mouth, all that was coming out were awkward words? Your face added to the sound of your voice made him look like a poor moron, and he knew deep inside of him that that was your effect on him. It was going to happen again, he knew it. He needed to find a way to not ridicule himself and not make you uncomfortable every time he opened his mouth.
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«What?» Yoongi’s eyes have never been wider than now looking at Jungkook. Now, the maknae was desperately looking for advices, and he knew that Jimin and Yoongi were the right persons for this kind of situation.
«You really did that?» Jimin let his mouth hang open, eyebrows raised.
«Yes» Jungkook sighed «I don’t know what’s wrong with me, God.» Yoongi and Jimin looked at each other, both of their expressions stuttered by what the youngest had just told them. «How can I fix this? I mean I-»
«First, stop dwelling.» Yoongi interrupted his endless rambling, firm tone and eyes pointing directly in his. Jimin nodded. «You’re thinking too much. I mean, do you even think she noticed all of this? Are there any chances she probably already forgot your face?» his words made the maknae feel better for just a bunch of seconds. Maybe you already forgot him. It was a good thing, right?
«You think so?» why did he sound disappointed? Yoongi raised his eyebrows and nodded.
«And if she remembers you, all you need to do is go and talk to her, you can fix this Kookie» Jimin smiled at his friend.
«And say what?» his voice came out louder than he thought, almost breaking in the middle. He was just not that positive. He messed up, and there was something inside him telling him that that was not goin to be the last time.
«Anything?» Jimin made it seem so simple «I mean, anything is better than what you said» he added. Jungkook shook his head. «Sitting here is not gonna fix this» he said again, then taking a sip from his hot coffee.
«I can’t-» his voice suddenly stopped working, his throat holding the words in. His eyes shifted from the wall he was staring to to you, walking into the cafe on your high heels, jeans sticking to your legs like they were handmade just for you, a little bit of messy hair because of the wind running through the streets of the city, hanging from your shoulders. Eyes moving into the cafe like you were desperately looking for something, maybe someone.
«What? It’s her?» Jimin whispered, slightly stretching on the table to get the maknae’s attention. Yoongi simply avoided asking, he knew he wasn’t going to get any answer. So he just turned around looking for your figure in the crowded little shop. When he finally found you, he knew it was you. He had already saw you the other day, and he saw Jungkook’s pants too, but he kept it to himself.
Smirking, he stood up, eventually bringing back Jungkook from his own world. He watched his friend take long steps and cross the room, and his hands started to sweat again, even more than the day before. Yoongi surpassed you just a step before you were in line for the bar, almost making you step on him.
Rude.
Jungkook could already feel himself going crazy, him and Jimin staring at the scene in silence dying to know what Yoongi had in mind. He saw you stretch over his shoulder trying to take a look at the pastry, in the meantime Yoongi stepped towards when another client left the line. Time seemed to slow down for how much it was taking for every single client to order, Jungkook’s agitation growing bigger every second.
When Yoongi’s turn arrived he still couldn’t understand what was going to happen, watching him through the crowd and shifting his gaze from him to you from time to time was definitely not working. He caught Yoongi talking to the employee and a second later he was paying and turning around with who the hell knows what in his big paper cup. Keeping his eyes on the floor and faking distraction, he stepped on your foot and when he raised his head all he did was giving you a shocked look.
Then he did it, making the maknae line wide their eyes like they were four lighthouses, Jungkook literally hold his breath for what it seemed to be like years. His drink was on your clothes, soaking you, your drenched black shirt dripping on the floor. Your face shattered when you realized you were actually soggy, Yoongi gave you an apologetic smile and then he walked out of the cafe as if nothing had just happened. He really hoped Jungkook would understand it was his turn. Well, again, he didn’t. He just stared at you, your face still in shock and your moth forming the shape of an “o”, people surpassing you on the line without even glancing at you. Jimin shook him awake from his trance making him grimace and pushing him from his chair.
«Go, go, go!» he silently screamed moving his hands in the air. “Oh, lord” was all he could think while looking at you standing still and a scared Jungkook walking uncertain.
You stepped to the side when you noticed people kept on surpassing you giving you upset looks since you wouldn’t move from the line, it only took you a few steps to the side to rush into someone. Your shoulder hit his chest and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It was just not your day.
«I- I’m sorry?» the voice came from beside you, the man standing still against your right shoulder without even moving. What was supposed to be a statement came out as a question and Jungkook wanted to punch himself again. You had to back away to create a little bit of distance before lifting your gaze to him.
When you saw him, it took you nothing to remember him.
«You? Again?» you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were not this rude usually, you just weren’t that type. But today definitely wasn’t your day. First, someone surpassed you, you just said nothing because you weren’t the type to argue for something so stupid, you even justified him thinking maybe he didn’t notice you. Then he spilled his tea on you, and without even helping you he just ran off as if nothing had happened. Now, him. Was this some kind of joke?
Jungkook couldn’t help but frown at your words, silently and slowly making their way through his body until they reached his intestine and tangled every part of his guts together.
«I- I’m sorry?» he said again. What? You locked eyes with him, cocking a brow at him.
«What are you even sorry for?» you sighed, bending over the table in front of you and grabbing a tissue from the plastic container. He brought his gaze to his friend, eyes still wide and throat completely dried. Jimin showed him a thumb up and suddenly shifted his gaze, in a second he turned around with his cheeks now red. When Jungkook turned again he hissed through his teeth, you did not just caught them and you weren’t staring at him with an even more confused look.
«I- I can buy you some coffee?» he blurted out, his voice cracking in the middle of the question making it almost seem like a prayer. Your lips formed an “o” again, suddenly looking down at your clothes and rushing to clean them with that little tissue. You were just thankful it wasn’t hot, whatever thing it was. Jungkook stood there still like a rock, scared of moving and making everything even worse.
«No, but thank you.» you sighed at the sight of your drenched black shirt, drops on your jeans. What were you going to do now? You had to go to work in thirty minutes, you didn’t have time to go back home and change into something else, your boss was already going crazy with all the work he had to, his reaction at your delay wasn’t something you wanted to experience.
«Please?» Jungkook’s voice seemed to light something in you, lifting your eyes and locking them again with his. That was the moment you really noticed his beauty. And he was just that beautiful. In the meantime, he was really trying not to break out and scream, his tongue was just moving by itself. His mind was totally blank and his hands were so sweaty that they would probably as wet as the shirt you were wearing.
«I don’t have time for coffee now, but thank you.» you declined again, trying to bring a smile on your lips but failing. You sighed and turned, making your way out of the cafe in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stood there with his eyes still wide, watching you walk away and trying to catch just that little bit of air enough to make him survive. It was only when Jimin’s face appeared in front of him that he seemed to realize you weren’t there anymore, and in a second his legs made the work for him again, running out of the cafe like a mad man. What was he even doing? What the hell?
Jimin followed him rolling his eyes, all his hopes that his friend had made it hitting the ground. He had never seen Jungkook like that, not even when he dated that girl he had a crush on for a year. Jungkook had always been charming, he never had that much problems with a girl, there had been times he was more shy, but he had always found a way of breaking his barriers.
This time there was just something different.
When he saw you on the sidewalk his legs fastened even more and he only stopped when he was behind you, quickly grabbing at your wrist and turning you around in an abrupt yank that got Jimin to stuck on place and grimace. He even heard you squint from where he was, and he certainly didn’t miss the smack of your hand on his face once you turned and faced him.
Jungkook’s face heated up, suddenly loosening his grip on your skin and blinking a few times, staring into your eyes, his features unreadable. Silence suddenly seemed to fill the crowded street while you two looked at each other, your face looking regretful the second you realized it was him and not someone who was trying to steal your purse or rape you during full day.
Jungkook was at a loss of words, and when he realized now he had to say something, he panicked again.
«I’m sorry?» that was not happening again, he wanted to scream.
«You’re sorry?» you erupted like a volcano, your arm still in the air even thought his grip was no longer on it. Jungkook’s head slowly shook up and down, gulping harshly.
«What are you sorry for?» your question made him knit his eyebrows. Was it really so hard for him to form a real sentence? The answer was yes. His brain just didn’t seem to work.
«About the coffe?» now, he really wanted to scream and tear his hair out.
He had just scared you and hurt you and all he managed to say was “about the coffee”? What was that even supposed to mean?
«The coffee?» you narrowed your eyes at him, he brung his hand to the back of his neck scratching it.
«The drink?» he said again. For god sake.
«Uh?» you just couldn’t understand. What was he even trying to do? He was sorry? Everything was just so confusing, and if last night you thought just a little bit about what happened yesterday with him, you were sure this was going to be in your head for the rest of the day.
«The drink Yoongi spilled on you?» why was every single one of his sentences a question?
«Who is Yoongi?» you whined without even thinking, but then you grasped it. The rude man was someone he knew. Was something wrong with his friends? First that one yesterday, now this Yoongi.
«Yoongi is-» Jungkook seemed to realize what he had just done and he stopped talking, letting out a tremulous breath. He just told you he knew the man who basically ruined your day. Great job.
«So, are your friends all like this?» you didn’t even know what you were doing, but the stress was just too much to handle at that moment. The man stared at you again, eyes shifting to every feature of your face.
«Uh? Wha- what?» he babbled. Jungkook was loosing it. And Jimin could see it from a block away. He wished he could do something to help him, anything to save the situation, but he just couldn’t. What would he even say, anyway? “Sorry, he just likes you so much that he doesn’t even remember how a normal human acts”? That wasn’t going to work.
«Are you friend with this Yoongi?» you asked. Jungkook nodded slowly, almost uncertain of what he was doing.
«And the one from yesterday was also your friend?» you asked again. This time he frowned, making you narrow your eyes.
«Taehyung?» he wondered, confusion blinking in his eyes.
«I don’t know, maybe? Was it his name? The one that poked me and ran away?» you sighed.
«But he- Oh. I can’t-» Reality hit him, and he had to take a deep breath to stop his dwelling.
«What?»
«I’m- I’m sorry?» there he was again. Was he kidding you? Just when he seemed to know other words, they were there again.
«You already said it, even though it doesn’t seem like you are.» you were really going crazy. Late for work, drenched, without your breakfast and with a charming guy talking nonsense in front of you.
«I am» his voice came out louder than expected, making you unconsciously squint and ward off a little bit.
«Well, thank you, I guess?» you glanced at the sidewalk, then again bringing your gaze to his face. The way the light of the sun hit his eyes made yours stare deep into them, the black pupils and irises almost fading with each other, the little sparkles of the light reflecting in them made them seem like one of the darkest nights, but with the brightest stars you’ve ever seen.
Your mouth ran dry when your gaze met his lips, a soft glow making them look even more captivating, you wondered if he was wearing a lip balm, a part of your mind wondering how it’d taste.
«I’m gonna be late for work» you mumbled. Jungkook shook his head.
«Okay» What? Are you serious, Jungkook? Okay? He visually grimaced at his own words, and for god knows why the corners of your lips raised up just the slightest at his awkwardness.
«I should go now» you gave him a little gentle smile and then turned, finally heading to your car. You had just taken a few steps on the sidewalk across the street when you turned away and realized he was standing still, eyes still fixated on you, but he wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe a friend of his? You hoped he wouldn’t hit you in the head, given the others. You crossed the street again, walking back towards the man and glancing at the ground feeling your cheeks reddening under his sight. 
You stopped a few steps away from him, raising your head and finally facing him. «I’m sorry too» you said, slightly smiling. «You know, for the slap» his lips formed an “o” but he quickly managed to smile, for the first time. And lord, what a smile he had. You swore you never saw something that beautiful. Your breath got stuck in your throat, heart madly beating in your chest, threatening to come out. And you didn’t even noticed, but your smile became a real one, wide and shining with its own light and reaching your eyes. Jungkook’s heart skipped a few beats just at the sight, his legs shaking under his body and a sudden feeling of warmth invading his chest, it was like his guts were back in place.
A drop of rain hit your forehead and in that moment you realized you really had to go, rain wasn’t something you could deal with now, not with your already soaked shirt and your delay. So you just turned again and walked away.
That was the first time you and Jungkook actually spoke to each other, kind of, I guess you could say.
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«Didn’t you two talk?» Yoongi asked running a hand in his blonde locks. There they were again, but this time, thankfully Jungkook would say, they were in his house. He really didn’t know how to handle another one of his friends’ mishaps in your presence, not that he would’ve met you anyway, but here he felt more comfortable. It was normal for them to meet at someone’s place on a Friday night, it’s something they’ve always been doing for a long time that now it was like a tradition. Every Friday they would met and talk, even though they’ve been seeing each other almost every day. And now, it was no difference. Or maybe just one. You. Jungkook wasn’t talking about how much he was excited to perform or how much he loved the new choreography, he was talking about how embarrassing that moment was. Wait, those moments. Thanks to Taehyung, Yoongi and himself, now he had collected a few moments that really made everything seem awkward.
«We did but...» he groaned «Why did you have to spill your drink on her?»
«For you to go help her?» Yoongi made it seem so simple.
«How could I have helped her with her soaked shirt? She had to go to work and you ruined her morning. And if it wasn’t enough now she knows I know you! And you!» Jungkook’s voice cracked in the middle while pointing his accusing index finger towards Yoongi and Taehyung.
«What? How?» Yoongi couldn’t believe his ears. He gave him a chance and he let it slip through his hands like it was a cool chunk of ice.
«He told her» Jimin got in the conversation briefly glancing at his youngest friend. Jungkook was really going crazy.
«And? What’s the end? Tell me you got her number?» Jin rested his forearms on his knees, waiting for an answer that just wasn’t meant to come out.
«You don’t even know her name, do you?» the maknae brung is gaze to Taehyung, his dark eyes almost seemed to surrender in front of all the mess of the situation. The friend sighed, guilt already invading his throat. When he pushed Jungkook in that situation, he thought he was gonna handle it, to him he just needed a little bit of motivation. He didn’t think it would’ve ended like this. He shook his head.
«Great.» Jungkook stood up, unreadable features and body tense.
«But at the end it was good, she smiled at you» Jimin helplessly tried to bring back a little bit of positivity.
«Yes, after I made everything uncomfortable and awkward. How am I even supposed to make a move after what happened? First Teahyung, then Yoongi. Then me!» he bursted out. «The first time was already hideous, but this? I hurt her, let her know that basically all my friends are weird and when she said “I’m gonna be late for work” my answer was “okay”. Who am I even kidding? I-»
«Oh, come on!» Joonie decided to open his mouth, his loud tone made Jungkook shut up, everyone now looking at him. «This is all in your head, Kookie. Stop it. You need to take a deep breath and face this in a different way. Clearly, shutting your mind off and letting your body do the work it’s not what you need.» he raised his eyebrows at him. Jungkook had started pacing, he really wanted to fix things, but every time it seemed to get worse and worse and worse and... worse.
«It’s so frustrating, I swear! It never happened to me, never. I can’t control it, my brain just doesn’t work when I’m with her» he groaned locking his dark locks in his fist and pulling a little.
«Oh, cheesy» Hobi wrinkled his nose receiving in exchange a death stare from Jungkook.
«So you don’t even know her name?» Jin seemed to realize his words only now, eyes wide and moth hanging open. Jungkook clenched his jaw before letting his body falling to the couch. Not even the soft material of the cushions seemed to make him feel better, not even the slightest.
«I don’t know her name» he answered, saying those words more to himself than to his hyung. All of this seemed so stupid.
«Then start from it. Give to this beautiful woman a beautiful name, you can’t keep rambling about someone for about an hour without even knowing their name.» Namjoon’s tone was firm, making its way through the maknae’s ears, his words seemed like playing with him. He was right, he didn’t even knew your name, how the hell was that possible? He had the biggest crush and didn’t know the basics.
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What Jungkook didn’t know and never could imagine was that you were thinking about him in the same moment as he was talking about you to his friends. What happened that morning was still replaying in your mind like a short film, from the moment that Yoongi spilled what you figured out was tea on your clothes to the moment you headed to your car. There was something about that awkward meeting that you just couldn’t seem to shake off. That man was so awkward and charming at the same time that the match sounded both weird and interesting.
Still, you couldn’t hide your annoyance towards him that morning. You couldn’t quite discern if he was just playing with you or if there was a meaning behind his actions and words, I mean, he apologized for his friend so much but he didn’t really act different than him, he yanked you. And apparently without any meaning. He already apologized for Yoongi before, so why follow someone you don’t even know to do it again?
Remembering your slap against his cheek you unconsciously squint your eyes, drowning in the dark. You really wouldn’t have punched him if you knew it was him, but the moment you felt someone’s touch against your skin you panicked. Not that he didn’t deserve it, well, actually he didn’t, but you don’t usually punch people like that, you really thought someone wanted to steal your purse or rape you, You puffed.
You just wished to not bump into him or his friends again, or at least to not be the main character of their misfortunes again.
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Summer was finally coming to an end, and with the end of a season comes the beginning of a new wardrobe, at least for you. You already had clothes for the imminent autumn but with all the money you had saved you could squander a little bit and reward yourself, you worked hard and didn’t even leave for the holidays this year, sad but true. So now you were lowly humming in the street without even realizing it, the music invading all of your senses, the melody taking control of your body like it was made of a thin sheet of glass that could be broken anytime with the slightest pressure.
You entered the shop and removed an earphone, slowly making your way through the crowd and getting ready to buy something as a reward for all of your sacrifices. The sight of the soft fabric of a white dress made your eyes sparkle and your feet started moving towards the mannequin like they were apart from your body, bringing your hand to the cloth you touched the smooth material.
There was no way you were not buying it.
The shape seemed perfect for your body, you could already see yourself wearing it so you were quick to cross the room, ready to grab your hanger. Apparently, not quick enough, but you didn’t notice right away.
Looking through the dresses for your size made you frown, everyone of them either too big or too small. You were almost giving up when your gaze met the tag you were looking for, eyes widening and happiness already creeping up in your body.
Then, a hand came in the way. You watched it grab the crutch, dark ink marking the light golden skin, long fingers closing around the hook. Your breath got stuck in your throat and you really felt all your hopes falling to the ground now. Sure you were not gonna argue with whoever just took away your dream dress, you didn’t even have the right to do it, you should have been quicker before rather than staring at it with dreamy eyes. You were already starting to turn and look for something else with a knot in your throat but you couldn’t help your eyes and followed the arm of the stranger, the skin almost glowing under the light of the shop. You met two broad shoulders, the cleavage of the light shirt he was wearing showing his collar bones and making your fingers tingle at the sight, but if you knew who was waiting for you at the end of that neck you would have already ran away.
The previous night after his friends left Jungkook had spent at least three hours trying to find a way to make a third impression on you, if that was possible, this time preferably good, and he figured out nothing. Eventually he felt asleep all tensed and annoyed, remembering the next morning he had to buy something for Namjoon’s birthday coming in exactly two weeks.
When he woke up today and headed to the shop three blocks away from his house he did not expect to find you there. From the moment he saw you at least a hundred of different emotions had run through his body, starting from worship and ending up with panic, but this time his mind didn’t switch off, or maybe not at all. Listlessly choosing something for Namjoon, Jungkook came up with a plan, and it was apparently clear: buy you a dress and give it to you as both a present and an apology for everything that happened the day before, from Yoongi’s drink on you to the way he kept on making things awkward, and maybe finally ask you out.
So when he saw you staring at that dress with dreamy eyes he instantly walked towards its reproductions, sure as hell that now he had something to work with in his hands. But it was only when you approached the same counter as him that he realized he didn’t have any clue about your clothing size. I mean, he could have guessed it, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He was supposed to ask you and tell you something like “let me offer this to you for making up for yesterday’s mess” and “would you like to hang out sometimes?” but when he tried to speak his voice got stuck in his throat, his hands badly sweating. So he tried to understand what you were looking for, careful not to get caught, and possibly keeping it in mind for buying you something else, and it all worked until he saw your eyes full of that joyful light again. In that moment, his heart skipped a beat as he understood you had found what you wanted.
As I said, this time his brain didn’t stop working, he knew he couldn’t grab the dress practically from your hands, that would’ve been the worst third impression of all times. He just needed to remember the measures printed on that little tag and look for something else. He knew but his hands moved by themselves and Jungkook felt himself stiffening again.
When you locked eyes with him you couldn’t help but snort. What was going on with the universe? You were sure you didn’t do anything that bad to deserve this. And why was he involved in all of your misadventures? Him, him, him, him and him again, couldn’t at least the gods send someone else once in a while to punish you? The fact that it was him made the knot in your throat grow even bigger and you instantly felt a flame of anger burning in your chest. If he was someone else you would’ve probably let go, but not with him and not when he was holding the dress you wanted to buy after long days and late nights of work, stress and a little bit of panic too.
So you did the first thing that came to your mind, you grabbed at the hanger he was holding in his other hand and immediately walked away leaving him with his mouth agape and his gaze digging holes in your body.
You turned the corner and went straight to the changing room, desperately trying to keep yourself from bursting out in the middle of the shop. You closed the curtain behind you and finally took a look at what you were holding. A men’s hoodie. You were going to buy it, wether you liked it or not. Not a big deal, you already had men’s clothes in your wardrobe, right?
Taking a deep breath you sat on the little couch in the fitting room, you were really starting to think he was playing with you. That had to be it. He was just enjoying himself, having fun with making you feel like an idiot. Unintentionally, some tears streamed down you cheeks, all the accumulated stress from work and from the rehearsals you were having almost every day, all the sleepless nights you had in the last three months trying to save money, some days even working your ass off until the first lights of the morning would appear, all the times you felt like you didn’t belong; everything was coming out in the shape of little drops. You hadn’t been crying for a long time and stopping now seemed like light years away, so you got up and went out of the dressing room heading to the checkout without even glancing around.
Jungkook was still in the same place you had left him, and when he saw your cheeks sparkling just in time before you could wipe the tears away he knew it wasn’t because of the sweat this time. His heart broke, features screaming nothing but regret. If only you had turned around you would have seen it even from there.
But instead, you paid your new hoodie and went out, ready to burst out once again you’d be surrounded by the safe walls of your apartment.
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«God, I can’t believe it» Jungkook groaned again for about the tenth time since the beginning of the phone call.
Jimin and Namjoon had been meticulously chosen for today’s vent, and this time he was sure he had something real to ramble on about, it wasn’t all in his head anymore. He had made you cry.
«It was the worst third impression of all times! My plan was good, damn, why do I have to be like this around her? Every single time, it happens every damn time» he hissed through his teeth. On the other line, Jimin was staring at his white ceiling with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed, trying to help his friend as best as he could, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Jungkook had to fix this, again. And Namjoon felt the same way as he took a sip of his coffee, his hair still messy from the long sleep he had just awakened from.
«I know you don’t need to hear it, but you’re the worst suitor on earth» he blurted out rubbing his face with his hands. «How can you expect to be more to her than an awkward weirdo if you can’t even talk or act normally in her presence? At least did you get her name?» Namjoon knew his words were doing nothing but emphasizing the horrible situation but he just couldn’t contain himself anymore. Jungkook didn’t need to be pitied, it would have led him nowhere. The maknae grunted in frustration. That was the only answer Joonie needed.
«Stop everything you’re doing» his words made Jungkook frown.
«What?»
«I said stop everything you’re doing» he repeated again, then taking another sip from his coffee. The youngest stared at the screen in disbelief.
«I am doing nothing!» his high-pitched tone made Jimin squint his eyes.
«Okay, then come to my place for lunch and bring that freaking dress with you» he ordered, now getting up and putting his mug in the sink.
«Can I-»
«Yes, Jimin, no need to ask» the hyung interrupted his friend already expecting his question.
«I’m gonna shower, but please be careful with that dress Kook» Namjoon’s tone softened and his words almost sounded like a prayer, Jungkook couldn’t help but glance at the piece of cloth laying on his couch with a worried face. That was not the right place for it.
«Okay, I got it, I got it» he said more to himself than to his friend.
«See you later» Namjoon got off the phone in a second, already on his way to the bathroom.
«Kookie, I know you can do it, okay? We can’t do more than what we are already doing, we can’t fix this for you, you have to fix it. But we’re here to support you.» Jimin’s words gave birth to a bittersweet smile on Jungkook’s face and he internally thanked God for his friends.
«Thank you Chimin»
They talked for another ten minutes before finally getting off the phone, Kookie’s eyes shifting again to what was supposed to be your dress now and shutting down.
He needed to fix this, again.
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«So?» Jimin patted his fingers on the wooden table moving his gaze between his three friends. Unexpectedly Taehyung had knocked on Namjoon’s door just before they were about to sit down and have lunch with an expression that promised nothing but bad news.
«I wanted to buy you something for making up for what happened yesterday and the day before, but apparently I screwed up again. This is for you.» Jungkook repeated for the fourth time, then reached his hand out on the table, his chopsticks holding an amount of chicken noodles not even possible to put in his mouth. Namjoon opened his all of a sudden and gobbled them in just one gulp, making Jungkook frown.
«You just ate her dress!» Jimin bursted out laughing at the scene in front of his eyes, the corners wrinkling, his melodious laugh even took over Taehyng’s brooding face, the hyung smiled like a baby.
«I’m hungry and it was the third time he was doing that! He practically saw it coming!» he claimed, already taking with his chopsticks another amount of inhumanly impossible food to eat.
«You have yours!» the maknae tried to sound as serious as he could but his smile fooled him.
«Don’t bother me, I’m feeding you and giving you advices, this is the least you could do in return.» he mocked him with a new beaming smile on his face, Kook shook his head and took a bite of his meal.
«I think it could work?» Jimin brung the conversation back to where it was supposed to be, glancing at Tae and Joonie.
«Just try to stick to that» Taehyung said nodding «and don’t forget to breathe. And please, don’t panic again.» he added. Kookie nodded, this time had to be good. «You think you can do that?»
«I have to» he sighed, already feeling under pressure. Jimin and Namjoon smiled at him, trying to reassure him.
«Alright, now Taehyung could you tell us what’s wrong?» the hyung suddenly shifted his gaze to the other maknae seated next to Kook, who raised his eyebrows and shook his head faking a smile. «Come on, we can see it. Tell your favorite therapists what’s wrong and let us help you.» Jimin nodded at his words.
«Alright, I...» Taehyung took a deep breath, his long slender fingers ran through his hair and fisted a dark strand, slightly tugging it.
«Oh my God, this is so hard to say out loud» he groaned. Now, if there was a tiny possibility that they’re friends weren’t worried about him, his words certainly did their job.
«TaeTae, come on» Jimin widened his eyes.
«Alright. Do you all remember Gillyflower?» his words only brung more confusion to their faces. «The girl with pink hair?» he tried again, and this time a bunch of “ooh” and “yes” made him nod. He took another deep breath. 
«Well, I asked her out and she was about to answer when Tannie suddenly started barking and puling at the leash. I tried to mke him stop but he kept getting worse to the point he yanked me. I- I stumbled and trying to grab onto something I...» he harshly gulped, silence invaded the room.
«What did you do? It can’t be worse than what I did, right?» Jungkook’s doe-eyes were staring at his friend’s face trying to catch a hint of his actions.
«I don’t know, it’s the first time something like this awkward happens between of us, but it’s just...» he puffed letting his shoulders fall and then again shaking his head.
«What?» Namjoon were desperate to know now.
«I groped her breasts. But I was just trying to hold onto something and- Oh my God this is the worst thing I could have ever done» he groaned and hid his face behind his hands trying to cover his cheeks flashing red. Jungkook’s eyes considerably widened, Jimin’s lips formed the perfect shape of an “o” and Joonie shut his eyes , almost forgetting how to swallow. Almost.
«What did you do after that? Tell me you apologized, tell me you did it?» Chimin’s gaze was basically begging him.
«Of course I did, but I was still shocked and... I may have left my hands on her for too much time» his voice was muffled by his hands, still covering his reddish face.
«Oh, God» Jimin let out, tilting his head back. «What the hell is happening to us?» he whined, earning a death stare from Namjoon.
«You mean what the hell is happening to you? This things don’t happen to me, luckily.» he stated.
«Oh, please Joon, your face is dirty for all the eggs you have on it. You know you have your bag stuffed with blunders» Jimin whined again and Namjoon pointed his index towards him.
«That wasn’t supposed to come out!» he argued.
«It didn’t! But I’ll blurt out all of your secrets if you don’t admit you can be a weirdo too!» the hyung puffed.
«Please, everyone knows I’m an oddball, there’s no need to argue on that. But my blunders are far beneath theirs!» he pointed at Jungkook and Teahyung the youngest was now trying not burst out laughing for his high-pitched tone. Jimin groaned.
«What was her answer?» Jungkook asked, carefully looking at TaeTae. He gulped.
«She started laughing and I apologized myself again before entering home. I thought she was making fun of me but I realized it was an uncomfortable laugh just after I shut the door. Now every time I see her in the hallway I hide behind the corners and avoid her. She must think I’m an idiot.» Teahyung’s words made Jungkook feel slightly better, maybe it was selfish but he felt less lonely.
«You need to talk to her» Namjoon mumbled with his mouth stuffed of noodles.
«We’ll make up a speech for you too after lunch, alright?» Tae shook his head.
«No need for it, I can handle it. I think» he sighed for the hundredth time.
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The Sunday that followed got Jungkook incredibly frustrated. In two days it was gonna be his birthday and he and his friends had all agreed to take a day off from the devastating rehearsals to celebrate it together, so now there he was,  meticulously watching his figure dancing in the mirror. He hadn’t slept well and his eyes were praying for just a bunch of minutes of rest, body already tired only after an hour of movement. When the music stopped he thanked Jin with a grateful smile before approaching the bench on the side of the room to grab his towel and gather his sweat.
«I think this-»
«Kookie!» Jimin shouted with his eyes wide, his voice echoed in every single corner of the room and in a second Jungkook realized why. He didn’t really do it, please.He let his hand fall at his side, and yes, there it was. Your dress in his hand, now moist and clammy.
His voice burst in the loudest tone he’ve ever used: «Who the hell pulled it out of my bag?!»
The group immediately got closer to take a look at what he was talking about, Namjoon and Taehyung held their breath when the maknae opened the folded cloth revealing the white peace of dressing he had carefully putted in his bag just in case he’d met you here, even though it was quite impossible being Sunday.
«Oh my God, I thought it was a towel and-» Jin started explain himself but got interrupted again by Jungkook’s low groan.
«I am screwed, I give up.» his chest swelled like a balloon and his shoulder raised almost to his ears just to heavily fall a second later. «If this isn’t fate then I don’t know what it is» he complained letting his body go limp after he seated on the bench. And as if what had just happened wasn’t enough his eyes caught your figure in the hallway, your body managing to move graciously on your high heels even though at a speed that seemed almost impossible for you not to fall, your hair swinging with every step.
«Bad luck?» Hobi kneeled in front of him and Jungkook scoffed, shifting his gaze on his muscled legs once you disappeared behind the corner, his dark locks creating a curtain to hide him from the rest of the world while he rested his elbows on his knees.
«Bad luck? This is a tragedy. And not just because of the dress. Everything I did until now is a tragedy. This is just the cherry on top of it all. Maybe this is just not meant to happen and that’s why I keep messing things up.» he grumbled with raspy voice. And he really believed that for a moment, maybe he was right. Everything, every single thing he had done so far had just messed things up more, even though he was desperately trying to do the opposite. He still didn’t know your name but had however already managed to made you feel uncomfortable, hurt you and made you cry. What a charming suitor he was. At this point he could’ve-
«If thinking about it like this makes you feel better.» Namjoon spoke with his gaze on the maknae. He licked his lips and waited for Kookie to raise his head, but it didn’t happen. «You don’t have the dress, who cares? It’s a peace of cloth, Kook. Your apologies are more important and you still have your speech. You can do it.» he kneeled in front of him beside Hobi, finally catching his gaze. What he didn’t expect was to actually find his eyes shining because of the stressed tears he was desperate to hold.
«He’s right, Kookie. Come on, you’re the golden maknae. And if it goes wrong we’ll have finally found something you’re not good at» Jin smiled at his youngest friend, his words made him lightly giggle, Yoongi nudged him.
«Just try again, okay?» Hobi smiled at him and Jungkook had to take a few moments for himself to finally answer.
Probably, no, wait, sure as hell the easiest thing was to give up. You already had a clear picture of him by now, there was no way you were changing your mind with just an apology. He had already apologized for at least five times the other day, and he had made you cry the day right after. So the possible answers now were two: yes or no. Such a big difference between them but such a thin line for him, especially now that he had lost the only thing that maybe would’ve helped him. He didn’t want lie to himself, he knew it was easier to give up and go back to being a normal acting human, not embarrassing himself anymore and feeling like an idiot all the time. But it was too easy like that, and just the thought made him frown. He couldn’t explain what it was to himself, but there was something about you that made him fatally, hopelessly curious. Since the very first moment he saw you, something turned on inside him, and I’m not just talking about his cock.
«Okay» he whispered to himself, the air of his breath fanning the golden skin of his hands. He took a deep breath and stood up.
«What?» Yoongi asked looking at him. Jungkook nodded.
«Okay, but you promise me you won’t do anything?» he pointed his finger against Yoongi’s face and then moved it back and forth pointing at everyone of them. When they all nodded Jungkook knew it was the moment to leave the room. 
Jimin pursued his lips when he saw him walking towards the door and quickly sided him. «Wait, you’re doing it now? Is she here? It’s Sunday!» he spoke so fast and his tone changed so many times that Kook turned to face him with an amused smile, almost forgetting about what he was about to do. «Do you remember the speech?» he asked again. When Kookie nodded and finally left the room Chimin stayed still with his gaze on him, acting like a mummy leaving her little child for the first time to the kindergarten.
«He can do it» Yoongi patted his shoulder.
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You weren’t supposed to be there, not on a Sunday morning when all you wanted to do was drown in your bed and never let go of your sheets without the clock pointing at least at eleven. But you didn’t have any choice when you realized what day it was. It wasn’t just an usual Sunday, your family was coming at your place for lunch in about two hours from now, and you had promised them to cook something special, or at least to try your best. You were already feeling under pressure and your parents weren’t exactly the definition of easy-going people, always ready to judge everything you would do and every step you’d take. No wonder why you’ve grown to be their total opposite, never daring to judge anyone, and you knew they hated it. But you didn’t care and kept doing your thing, without worrying too much. Luckily, distance had made everything so much easier, until this kind of moments. The stress was running through your blood like it was part of your body, you were practically on the edge. You really didn’t want to hear them complaining about your stupid passion and how you should stop chasing your dreams just to find an even more steady job than the one you already had, so you had quickly decided to bring your gym bag here. You had grabbed everything you could find in your house that could have led their thoughts to your athletic side and just stuffed all in the bag now hanging from your shoulder, from your pointe shoes to your sweat shorts.
The lockers were safe and you knew it because you had already done this at least five or six times, so you simply opened the steel door and placed your bag in it with loose motions before shutting it and locking it with you keys. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The stress of your job, the rehearsals, all the money you wanted to save to buy your house and what happened in the last days were hovering on your mind so much that you knew you would have bursted out if you had to worry about your parents too. So this was the easiest way.
Heading to the door you fastened you pace until you got out, the sun made your skin burn and you harshly puffed, already wishing the winter to come.
At the same time, Jungkook was looking for you in the whole building, he even took the stairs and went to second floor once he figured out you weren’t in your usual rehearsal room. He thought you’d be in the changing rooms but he couldn’t afford himself to the risk of finding you half naked, even though the picture of you he had in mind was making his mouth drier every second more while taking the stairs again. It was when he distractedly looked out of the window that he saw you crossing the street. His feet never ran faster than that moment, praying for you to stay on the main street so that he’d found you more easily. He crossed the hallway and made his friend’s heads turn when he rushed in front of their door, that stupid speech replaying in his head over and over again like a prayer.
«Oh man» Namjoon covered his eyes with his right hand at the sight.
Once the maknae was out of the building he welcomed the light of the sun by squinting his eyes, his already sweating body heated up even more while desperately trying to get to you. The street was not that crowded at this time of the morning with the sun almost at his highest spot and the hot breeze threatening whoever was out, so he thought he could make it. Then, he saw you stopping on the sidewalk. Maybe you noticed him? Impossible.
A second later you were opening the door of a taxi and he didn’t know if rather laugh about his bad luck or cry. He could’ve just let go and talk to you the next day, you were definitely going to rehearsal on Monday, or maybe even on Tuesday. But it’s Jungkook we’re talking about, and by now we all know a part of his brain seemed to switch off when it comes to you. Or maybe this time, it turned on. The stress he felt those days had built up so much that he just wanted to burst out once and for all. He was tired of dwelling about his clumsiness and weirdness when he was beside you and didn’t want to feel guilty for making you feel uncomfortable anymore. So he sped up, his legs almost gave in for the big gap he wanted to close in a matter of seconds. 
But he made it. He knocked at your window with his fist, hands sweating and chest raising desperately gasping for air. When you turned and squinted your eyes because of the light of the sun he again swore he had never seen something, someone that beautiful in his life, the rays of sunshine painting little sparkling stars in your pupils and your skin gleaming.
You knitted your eyebrows at the sight, the charming but odd man staring at you as if he had just seen who knows what. What did he want now? You didn’t have time for his teasing, not with all of the things you had to do before the hurricane that your parents were would show up and take over you for the next hours.
«Please» he managed to say, or at least he mouthed it, and a part of him thanked your shut window for not giving him away, but just a little part. If hearing the lack of his voice would’ve made you listen then he would’ve talked with his hands.
With everything he did he was not really expecting you to listen to him, not when he was making things awkward once again, not in this situation. He was hoping it with all of his heart, but he knew it was not going to happen. Indeed, it didn’t happen.
The taxi started and you fixated your gaze on the street without a second thought, already brushing away the weird feeling that his gaze made you feel. You checked your phone screen: 11.34. Great. You were praying every god in heaven to save you from your parents’ likely early arrive when a thump made you both frown and hit the backrest with your head harshly enough to wince. You realized your taxi just hit the one in front of him in a second. Someone was definitely mad at you.
That was Jungkook’s moment. He widened his eyes at the sight and rushed on the sidewalk before he quickly approached your cab. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he feared for his life. He opened your door without a second thought, you were hissing through your breath, eyes shut and pursued lips. While he took in the sight you felt a gentle hot breeze on your skin. Opening your eyes you gasped when you saw him standing there. Definitely really, really mad.
«I can’t do this» you bursted out loud, more to yourself than to the men that now were both staring at you.
«It’ll only take ten minutes» the cab driver gently smiled at you. The poor man then brung his gaze to the other standing at your door, holding it so tight with his hand that his knuckles were white. You tried to fake a smile as best as you could.
«I’m sorry but I’m running out of time, I’m gonna make it on foot.» you claimed. Before waiting for any answer you shifted your gaze back to the man who was blocking you into the car, his body stiff and not giving you hits of movement. You waited for something, anything, but he just kept staring at you making you feel like a fish out of water and you didn’t have time to deal with his awkward behavior now, you were really late. So you stood up anyway, almost stepping on his toes, and you held your breath while making your way through his body and the car. The way he kept his dark doe-eyes into yours without any sign of backing off made you shiver.
Jungkook harshly gulped when your body slightly touched his, his skin tickled at the feeling, the lightest of touches creating the strongest of the addictions. «I- I can give you a- a ride?» he stuttered, finally removing his hands from the door of the car. You started walking without even turning at his words, too much overwhelmed by the awful morning you were having. Kook was staring at you still in the same place as before, mouth agape and eyes sparkling at the way you were moving your hips, but when he realized you were already on the sidewalk he forced himself to follow you.
«I’ll give you a ride?» why did he keep doing that? That was supposed to sound more sure, more like a statement maybe? You snorted.
«Please, stop it» his presence beside made you even more nervous, what did he want? Why was he doing that again?
«I- I can drive, I can ride you-» what the hell was that? God, he kept making things worse without even trying. Your face immediately shot up, eyebrows knitted together and blood boiling in your veins.
«What I meant is-» he stopped talking again, his feet did the same and for a moment he considered letting you walk away and just give up. With how fast you were walking you were already disappearing into the crowd. But he sided you again.
«Look, I don’t have time for your teasing now, you can do it tomorrow.» you didn’t need to shift your gaze from the sidewalk to know that he was again there.
«What? I- No, I want to do it now!»
Did he really said that? Turn on your damn brain, Jungkook.
You rolled your eyes. «I can’t belie-»
«Can I just give you a ride?» he suddenly blocked your way with his body, arms outstretched and dark eyes praying yours. «Not in that way» he added, desperately trying to fix his stupid mistakes.
You couldn’t understand what the hell he was doing, standing there in front of you, in the middle of the crowd, praying to give you a ride after everything that he had done in just... three times you met? 
«No.» you shook your head and quickly got over him. «In both ways» you added, slightly smirking at yourself for your words. Jungkook sneered too, following you again like a puppy.
«You’d get there faster, please. Just- just a ride?» his continue pleads made you whine and stopping your steps you turned to face him, realizing just now how much he was taller than you.
«I don’t even know your name» you stated, ready to claim your victory. Jungkook let his mouth fall agape while looking at you standing so close to him, not that it was that close, but the rays of the sun were making everything too much to handle for him.
«Jeon Jun- Jungkook?» he managed to say, to ask, voice cracking in the middle.
«You don’t sound so sure of that» strangely, you smirked. Jungkook’s heart almost stopped right there and then.
«I’m Jungkook» he repeated trying as best as he could to smile without showing his nerves on the edge. You took in the sight squinting your eyes at him.
«Okay, Jungkook. I still don’t know you, so the answer is still no» you smiled at him and were about to start walking again but he got in the way a second time. His brain panicked again when he realized he had to say something now, eyes widened and throat dry. Mind blank, totally blank.
«I wanted to buy you something for making up for what happened yesterday and the day before- oh, shit not yesterday. I mean, yesterday and the day before but the day before that too.» he lowly groaned and shut his eyes, already feeling his face heating up. He watched your features change from annoyance to curiosity and then slightly smirking, but he couldn’t quite define if you were just having fun seeing him struggle or if you were actually smiling for his words.
You can do this, Jungkook. You can do this. Just go on.
«Apparently I screwed up again. This is for you.» the only sentence he wasn’t supposed to say came out like it had its own life and the maknae’s eyes widened even more while staring at your unreadable expression.
«So?» you asked folding your arms.
«I- i can’t- oh God» Jungkook wanted the earth to swallow him in. The embarrassment was eating him alive. «I can’t give it to you» he blurted out without even trying anymore to contain his voice.
«Jungkook, I really, really, don’t have the time to deal with this now. My parents are coming over for lunch and I still have to cook, they’re gonna start a-» you started blabbering but stopped when you figured out you were saying too much. «I don’t have time.»
«I can cook.» he claimed «I can cook, I’m- I’m good at it and I’m fast» His face has never been more red than in that moment, not even when he asked her first crush ever out. Never than when he was with you.
«What are you trying to say?» you sighed, again checking your phone, the bold characters of the time made you whine.
«I can- help you with the lunch?» he tried again.«You can trust me. I swear- my friend is a chef. He-»
«Are you serious?» you interrupted his endless speech with a hint in your voice that neither the both of you quite get. Your question didn’t sound like an annoyed one, it sounded more like... Surprised? Kinda. Desperate? Oh, hell yes.
Jungkook nodded, and in a second your wheels brain worked like crazy. It was almost 12.00 and you knew that your parents wouldn’t arrive at the established time, they were probably already in the car looking forward to the moment you were going to open the door and ready to start complaining about how late you were for everything, how your life wasn’t good for you, how you should’ve been more like them. No, you weren’t playing they’re game, not today.
Going to your apartment now would’ve meant arrive in twenty minutes, then you had to make sure everything was in place and absolutely remember to lock your bedroom, your mother had this weird habit to always pry and snoop in your drawers as if you were still a teenager, you hated it. You had to cook and set the table too.
Oh, lord. You couldn’t believe you were really thinking about this.
«I’m Y/N» you sighed, locking eyes with Jungkook. The information you had just given him seemed to make his features even more shocked. 
Y/N, he repeated to himself, finally having a name for your breathtaking face. You had really told him? After all he had done so far?
«Are you really serious? Cause please, I don’t really have time for your teasing.» now it was you the one almost begging.
Jungkook’s eyes widened so much that they almost fell out as he forced himself to nod. «Yes, I- I’m serious. I can help you?» his voice was shaking.
«If you promise your friend won’t set fire to my kitchen?»
Jungkook’s features lost all their hope in a blink hearing your words. He really thought you were letting him in your place to help you considering all the awkwardness between you two? Well, he hoped it. It would’ve been a good way to prove you he wasn’t a jerk and maybe get to know you a little better. It wasn’t fair to be that much head over heels for someone you don’t even know. But that thought vanished in an instant. It took him a few seconds to understand he had to call Jin.
Please, please. He hoped the rehearsals were over and that he had already taken a shower.
«I promise, I swear he won’t do it» Jungkook’s sweaty hands went in his pockets and grabbed the phone. «I- I’ll call him»
You let yourself sigh when he brung the phone to his ear. This was all too overwhelming, the nervousness was eating you alive and the fact that now you had to worry about his friend too made you hold another sigh. Please, tell me he’s not teasing me again. This was your prayer, the words echoing through your mind like a mantra while the man talked to his phone taking a few steps to distance himself from you.
«Jin, please. You own me this for the dress. And I promise I- I will do whatever you want me to do. Just, please do this for me» he prayed lowering his voice and staring at you.
«You’re lucky I just changed. Alright.» Jin nodded on the other side of the line, everyone was staring at him waiting to know what happened.
«Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you» 
«I know, how can’t someone love me?» he scoffed «Where are you?»
«A few block away from the studio, in front of the crossroad, but please hurry up. Really, she’s running out of time»
«Alright, alright. I’m on my way. Don’t say or do awkward things.» that was the last sentence he left him with.
Jungkook stared at you for a little bit before putting his phone back in his pockets, studying the way you were biting your lips and snorting from time to time, fingers playing with each other in nervous movements. He couldn’t help but ask himself why you were so nervous. Your parents were coming over, shouldn’t you be happy to spend some time with your family?
You were desperate, totally overwhelmed from your parents’s judgement, still thinking about their faces when they would see you hired a chief just for a stupid lunch. “Couldn’t you do this on your own?”, “This is ridiculous.”, their voices were already playing in your mind.
You turned to look at Jungkook, his gaze immediately leaving your face and his cheeks flashing red. You approached him in a second.
«He’s coming» he let out a deep breath, and so did you. You didn’t have to worry about lunch anymore, thanks God. «I- why... Can I ask you why are you so nerv- nervous?» his question made your mouth fall agape. Was it that obvious? 
«I’m not»
«Oh» he puffed «O-okay. I’m sorry» you frowned.
«Why do you keep saying that?» Jungkook gulped harshly.
«I- I shouldn’t have asked.» and now he was looking like a puppy for the first time in front of your eyes. For a moment he didn’t seem the charming awkward man that had made you feel uncomfortable anymore. The silence filled the air even though the streets were chaotic. 
Seeing him like that made you speak: «You won’t tease?»
«Wha-What? Why?» Kook thought the conversation was already over, so when you asked him he really didn’t had his brain working. «I mean, why should I t-tease you?» doe-eyes staring directly into yours.
«You always do it» you shrugged. In that moment, Jungkook really felt awful. You really thought all he had done was because he was teasing you?
«I don’t»
«Yes, you do»
«No, I don’t» his voice sounded firm for the first time. Your eyes left his.
«Then this is you? You usually act like... you acted yesterday? And the day before? And the-»
«No, I- I don’t» he sighed «but I’m not teasing you. I never wanted to?»
«Why are you asking me?»
«I’m not! It’s just-» he let the sentence disappear like a speck of dust blown off by the window. «I won’t tease» his voice made you look back into his eyes and the silence filled the space between you two again, your face lost his brightness.
«My parents are not easy-going people. It’s just that.» Jungkook raised his eyebrows.
«Yes, but a chief?» he let out without even thinking, the second he saw your features changing he wanted to slap himself.
«I know, it’s desperate» he held his breath, the guilt already sneaking in his body for letting you think he thought that.
«No!» his voice came out louder than expected «I-It’s not. I was just curious. Maybe I should hire Seokjin too when my parents come to my place. He cooks better than me» you scoffed and his heart sped up like crazy. Finally, he thought. He was dying to hear that sound escape your lips, and now that he was the cause of it he wanted to hear it more.
«Jungkook!» Jin’s voice remembered him what you were really doing and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he turned to watch him get closer with each step. Your mouth hanging open at the sight. Tall, broad shoulders and a charming face. Was it a thing running in his group?
«I’m Kim Seokjin, but call me Jin. I’m your chief for today.» he introduced himself once he stood in front of you.
«I’m Y/N. Thank you for doing this, I’m aware I didn’t give you time to-»
«Don’t worry, really. It’s not a problem.» he smiled. You nodded and gulped nervously before glancing at Jungkook, who was standing there shifting his gaze between you and his friend, praying everything would work out fine.
«Let’s go, you can tell me about what you’d like to eat while we get to your place»
And with that, you nodded at him and gave a smile to the maknae. Jungkook’s heart skipped a few beats.
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«I swear, she has the worst parents ever.» Jin claimed, eyes wide and shocked features. «They really aren’t easy-going people.»
«Did they complain about the food?» Namjoon asked, the hyung raised his eyebrows.
«They didn’t dare, luckily for them,» he scoffed. «but from what I heard from the kitchen that woman really has the strongest self-control ever»
«What happened?» Hobi sat beside him on the couch.
«You mean what didn’t happen. First, when they came in they didn’t even greet her, they just gave her their coats and ran past her like nothing.» he raised his index finger while shaking his head. Jungkook’s eyes widened.
«Then they started complaining about her apartment. “I don’t really know how you like this place so much”, “it’s so small”, “do you even have a second bathroom in here?”, “you should move”. I mean, let her breathe!» he imitated your parents’s voices, an high-pitched tone for your mother and a weird twang for you father. His middle finger went up.
«After that, her mother tried to break into her room as if she’s a fifteen years old teenager. What the hell was that? She even locked it before they came in, I saw her.» and now his ring finger too.
«What?» Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and neither the others. Everyone’s expression was only screaming shock, staring at their friend like he was telling them a crime novel. Jungkook had his eyebrows knitted together, mouth agape and an emotion neither he could quite get running through his blood.
«I swear I’m not making this up! They’re the worst!» Jin shook his head. «When they saw me serving the plates her mother raised her eyebrows and waited for me to go into the kitchen before she started spitting out all her venom. “Couldn’t you do this on your own? Of course not. You’re still trying to dance, right? That’s why you don’t even have time to learn how to cook”, “your mother is right, you should start to act like an adult, Y/N. I think it’s time for you to stop with that”. It was like being in hell, and I was in my heaven, you know I love standing in front of the stove. I honestly don’t know how she managed to stay calm.»
«Oh, God. She must feel so much pressure» Hobi muttered, Yoongi and Taehyung nodded.
«I know. I could see it in her eyes when I left, she was acting like nothing happened but she really seemed wrecked. She insisted to pay me but I refused her money, I told her she’s fine since is your “friend”» Jin looked at Jungkook, who weakly smiled as a thank you for his actions. He already knew that your parents were not that easy from your words and the way you acted that morning, but God, he never though they’d be like this. How did you even manage to not burst out at them?
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Your pillow was doing nothing to muffle your sobs, they could be heard even with the sound of the TV on and the sheets hiding you from the light light of the screen. Useless to say, you were feeling like shit. You always tried your best but always fail with them. You were used to it, so why were you crying? Again? You wished your parents were different, more amenable, you even wished you were different, the daughter they expected you to be. But you weren’t, and all you were left with was hope, every time. Maybe the next time will be better, that was what you usually told to yourself, and that was probably why you ended up crying this time too. You needed to stop it and face the fact that it was not going to be better. You weren’t the problem, and deep inside you you knew it.
You simply needed to face it.
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Finally, here comes today. It’s weird for you to think this, but you actually want to meet Jungkook, to thank him. The awful night you had made you think of how hard you try with your parents even though you keep telling yourself it’s not true. After having a chief cooking for you, the only thing you can do is cope with it. You can’t deny you were being anxious for the whole time, still skeptical about the situation, afraid that Jungkook was maybe teasing you again and his friend was no one but a someone looking for fun him too. But he wasn’t, he’s been nice for the entire time, always smiling and trying to make you feel comfortable, he sure knows how to marvel a new client. You saw him blinking a few times because of your parents’s words, but you’re grateful he didn’t tell you anything. He was professional and friendly, and you feel so sorry about not paying him and making him deal with the awkward lunch of you and your parents.
Thus, you are now walking in the studio hoping to find Jungkook or maybe one of his friends, not sure of what exactly are his schedules. You look for him until you realize you’re already five minutes late for your rehearsals so you decide to rush back in your room. What you didn’t expect is to find him at your doorframe, eyes shifting from person to person. His figure makes you hold your breath, his features taken by whoever his looking for, lips pursued, tall and muscled body wrapped in a pair of black jeans and a gray shirt.
«Jungkook?» you call. Jungkook’s heart drops when he realizes it’s your voice, then in a second the embarrassment is there again, making his ears and cheeks flashing red.
«H-hi?» he slowly moves his stare until it’s on your face.
«Were you looking for me?» his eyes wide, he weakly raises his eyebrows and now his lips are slightly parted in a pout.
«N-no? Yes, I mean no, I- fuck» he mutters, shutting his eyes at the end of the uncommon answer and hissing under his breath. You knit your eyebrows. Once he opens his eyes again you can’t help but smirk, just a little bit. With the half-gone sensation of him teasing at you it’s more easy to do it.
«I- what was the question?» he really doesn’t know how to answer you. You scoff and shake your head.
«Never mind, I was looking for you but now I really can’t talk. Do you have some time later?» your uncertain tone makes you cringe, again feeling weird in front of him. You can’t help it, it’s just something that happens every time in his presence.
His brain stops working again. «Oh, yes? Y-yeah»
«What- what time do you get off?»
«I- well, I- uhm... Yoongi!» he suddenly screams, panicking and widening his eyes when he shifts them from you to his friend, his tone radiates nothing but frustration.
Thanks God, he thinks, but a second later he’s already regretting it. You quickly turn to see his friend approaching you in heavy footsteps, and when you link his face to his name another wave of uncomfortableness sneaks in your body.
Yoongi looks at you only when he sides his friend, gulping harshly and trying to fake a smile as best as he can. «Hi, I’m Yoongi?»Why do they all speak like this? 
He shifts his eyes from you to Jungkook and viceversa, hoping someone to talk and tell him what the hell is he doing there with you two. When Jungkook finally speaks his voice his shaking. «What dime do- do we get o-off?» his eyes are basically praying Yoongi to answer.
«I think at seven?»
«Oh» he lets out, lowering his gaze on you again. You try to shrug off the mix of emotions his dark eyes give you.
«Okay, I... I’ll wait for you? I guess, if you tell me-»
«13» Yoongi interrupts your blabbering seeing that the maknae’s face is as blank as a white sheet paper, still in shock from what’s happening, he probably wouldn’t have known how to answer you.
«Thank you. See you later then» you try to smile without letting your uneasiness creep in and quickly enter the rehearsal room, letting out a deep breath.
«You know you’ll have to talk to her later, right? And what was she talking about?» Yoongi asks as soon as you can’t hear him. Jungkook shrugs.
«She- she wants to talk? I’m gonna die in the awkwardness, I know it. I’m gonna embarrass myself so much I won’t even be able to breathe, fuck.»
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«Y/N?» Jungkook stares at your reflection in the mirror, his movements suddenly stop nd Hobi frowns at him.
«Jungkook, what are you doing?» he screams over the music. The maknae blinks a few times before he understands you’re looking at him and he’ll make everything more awkward if he keeps standing still like this with his eyes on you. Thus, he takes a deep - deep - breath and  counts the time again before catching up with the moves.
His body makes you hold your breath, his movements are clean and outright, his style is impactful, even the small details incredibly focused and accurate. His muscles twitch under the clothes, and you can outline the muscles of his legs even without even trying. Only the sight makes you shudder. His body is something you really didn’t dwell on, too much taken aback from the way he usually acts around you, but having a show like this in front of your eyes is something you can’t really turn away to. The way he moves his hips in a particular move has you clenching around nothing, and you suddenly blush at the thought of how he’d move them in a different situation, your heart beats faster.
Jungkook tries to not let your presence influence his rehearsals but he can’t help to steal a few glances at you while he moves on the rhythm. When he sees you blushing and glancing down his body he can’t help but smirk a little bit, even though his heart beats louder with every second. He glances away again when you eventually raise your eyes to his face, body stiffening in an second.
When the music finally stops and you seem to wake up from your trance you find yourself looking at the others, realizing only now that you probably should have asked before coming in the room like this, so you stand up and go out in a second.
Yoongi suddenly runs behind you.
«Y/N? Right?» you have no chance but to turn and nod.
«I’m sorry, I sho-»
«You can stay.» he smiles at you «And I’m sorry for the tea, the other day»
«Are you sure?»
«About the tea? I’m really sorry» he bits the inside of his cheek.
«No, I mean are you sure I-»
«Oh, yes. Jungkook would like it if you stayed» he suddenly points his thumb to Jungkook, who’s staring at the two of you with his lips parted and apparently in trance like you were just a few seconds ago. When your eyes lock with his you shrug to hide the weird shiver sneaking into your back.
«Okay, then» you smile at Yoongi and head back to the bench at the side of the room. 
You spend at least twenty five minutes staring at Jungkook, your eyes rarely meet the figures of his friends, completely taken by the way he moves and the emotions he makes you feel with every song. At the beginning the maknae feels his cheeks heating up and his body as stiff as a trunk, but with the time passing by and the seconds becoming minutes he slowly gains a little bit of confidence, and when you see him even more free and secure you can’t help but take in the sight releasing a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s like a magnet, some weird kind of energy attracts you to him, maybe it’s the way he speaks with his face or the way his eyes seem even darker and deeper when he sometimes glances at you and immediately glances back. Time seems to run and before you know it the music stops again and the group is lets out uneven breaths, heading to the bench you’re sitting on to grab their towels.
You feel your cheeks heat up when you notice almost every one of them glance at you with a look you can’t really read. Jungkook is still in front of the mirror, eyes completely focused on the way his body moves and repeating movements like a mantra. When he finally stops and turns around his gaze locks with yours, his heart pounds in his chest, palms sweaty all of a sudden.
«Kook, here!» one of his friends throws him a bottle of water and the man quickly catches it bringing it to his lips and taking a few sips. You watch the way his adam’s apple moves from your seat. He closes the bottle and finally heads to the bench, he feels so nervous he’d do something awkward and make you both feel uncomfortable that he almost thinks of running away. The others seem to quickly disappear to go to change and when he finally stands beside you you don’t really know how to act. The silence fills the room and makes you wince, your tongue comes out to wet the petals of your lips, Jungkook holds his breath.
«I like your style of dancing, the way you move» you blurt out. The maknae seems almost shocked at your words.
«I- I like it too» and here we go again. «I mean, I like yours too?»
«You watched me dancing?»
Jungkook groans. «I- oh, ye- yes?» he quickly gives up on lying «I watched you»
«Oh, I didn’t notice» you nervously smile. «Thank you, then»
Jungkook brings his white towel to his neck, wiping the sweat from his skin. That stupid action hits you like a wrecking ball.
«I’m- I’m sorry for everything that happened,» he speaks without thinking «I- I never wanted to tease you. I’m really sorry it- it came out like that. Really sorry.» his tone is shaky and he still can’t believe he managed to let out a full sentence without embarrassing himself or you. For some kind of reason his words make your gaze deepen in his, the weight of your irises almost crashing down Jungkook’s mind.
 You shake your head. «You apologize every time» a smile breaks through your mask.
«I don’t want to... make you feel uncomfortable? It’s just... I’m really so- sorry if it came out in the wrong way. I always end up embarrassing myself but I wanted to make a good impression, it’s just-» he suddenly stops talking, feeling all of a sudden even more nervous to say the words he was almost spilling out, he scraps at the back of his neck.
«You make me nervous» he really said it. 
His words hit you like a train, fast enough to make you doubt you really heard them and hard enough to stun you. «I make you nervous? Oh, I’m sorry I-»
«No, no, no, no» he quickly complaints «In a good way, I- I guess?» 
«What do you mean?»
Jungkook opens his mouth to speak a few times but always fails and closes it, before putting the towel on the bench and harshly gulping. «I- Can we talk about something else? Please?» he almost whines, making a weird smile form on your lips.
«Do you want to go to the cafe?»
He nods at your proposal, lifting his index finger. «Just give me a minute to change and-» he lowers to grab at all his stuff on the bench but unintentionally hits the bottle of water which falls to the ground. He lets out a deep shaky breath, the words I’m so bad at this echoing in his mind. You manage to bend over and grab it but at the same time he takes a step towards it to do the same, stopping when he sees your hands holding the bottle. When you raise back, the view you meet with makes you hold your breath and your cheeks red like peppers, Jungkook is not quick enough to rush back, and you can’t help but feel uncomfortable again, but this time there’s a different emotion too that you’re not quick enough to grasp.
It happens in a matter of seconds, but it seems like minutes when you glance at him, standing tall and looking at you bewitched by the sight of you like this. And he needs to remember himself you’re actually here to hold back the dirty thoughts that are already filling his head. You gulp hard, your eyes scanning his beautiful features and saving the breathtaking sight, his crotch almost touching your cheek because of the lack of distance. And you can’t deny, your thoughts take you to a different dimension that makes you fucking throb.
«Just- give me- give me a minute?» Jungkook stutters with a deep low voice, heavy breath and cheeks heating up.
«This are the kind of things that makes me think of you teasing me» you don’t even know where your words came out from, how’d you manage to make a full sentence still watching him from the same position.
«I swear, I didn’t want to-»
«It’s okay» you unintentionally lick your lips and he finds it even harder to keep a clear head, his cock already hardening. «Go?»
He slowly nods waking up from his trance, and manages to rush back into the fitting room with fast steps and heavy breathing, hoping that the others are not there. Not now that with every steps he takes he feels harder with the image of your eyes looking at him from down.
«Fuck» he hisses letting his bag fall to the bench. Luckily, no one’s here anymore and he’s only left with his boner. What is he supposed to do now? He can’t just change and go out, you’d see it, definitely.
Fuck.
Jungkook quickly heads to the door of the bathroom and takes a deep breath before locking it, lowering his sweat pants and his boxers on his thighs. The second the material doesn’t hug him anymore his cock jumps to his stomach, tip already red and dripping with precum. How do you manage to get him this hard without even trying?
His hand immediately wraps around his shaft, squeezing himself a little bit, just enough to make his head fall back and his lips part letting out a strangled whine. 
«Fuck» he hisses before he starts moving his hand, his mind going back at you and how damn good you looked before at the height of his cock. The first time he masturbated thinking about you sucking him dry he didn’t really think he would ever have a picture of you to accompany his actions to. And now that he has it, he can’t seem to get enough of it. You’d look so fucking good giving him the blowjob of his life, hollowing your cheeks and wrapping him in your mouth, he’d fuck it so good you’d be drooling and gagging for him. His thumb slowly caresses his frenulum and he twitches under his hand, stroking himself faster and harder. He doesn’t even realize it but the image of you he has in mind is making him louder than he usually is, panting and hissing, begging to explode.
«Oh my god, fuck.» he groans.
You can’t hear him from where you are, but your tights are tightening anyway. What happened just a few moments ago is replaying in your mind over and over again. The view he gave you of him staring directly into your eyes while you were basically facing his cock it’s making you go out of your mind. You can’t deny he’s charming, with features that make you feel dizzy, but this was too much to handle even for you. Your mind can’t help but fantasize how he’d fist your hair while you’d lick him, and just the thought makes you clench around nothing, the wetness between your folds already soaking your knickers. You try to push the image away, but the way you’re desperately squeezing your thighs for some kind of friction tells a total different story.
Jungkook bites his lips, his abdomen twitching and his shoulders heavily raising.
«Y/N» he whines, picturing you on your knees for him. In his mind, your hands are one on his inner thigh and the other playing with his nipple, twirling it between your index and thumb and making him even more sensible.
«Shit, so good» his voice is husky, sure as hell it would make you shudder and fall on your knees if you’d only hear it. His movements become more sloppy, the knot in his stomach almost about to burst. He groans and speeds up even more, hips practically hitting his hand with every stroke. He imagines your thighs tightened, the wetness in your folds, the way you’d taste, and he feels even closer.
«So fucking good»
Jungkook spits in his hand. His breath stutters more, and he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe anymore as he strokes himself harder, the lewd sound of him shoving in his fist becomes louder, the only sound feeling the bathroom and the fitting room.
The thought of you cupping his balls and massaging it makes him do the same thing, he pictures your tongue licking and swirling around the head of his cock. That is the last chunk he needs to come undone in his palm, spatters of white hitting his chest as he fucks himself through his orgasm until he’s too sensitive to even make one more stroke, letting his head resting on the door behind him. Eyes closed, heavy breath and mouth completely dry, Jungkook takes some time to recover from the heavenly climax he just reached.
God, what he’d give to know that he had the exact effect you had on him, but you’re just too shy to do something about it here. If you were home, well that would be a different thing. You’d help yourself with your vibrator, fucking it into you like it was him. But now, now you’re just trying to contain your thoughts, waiting for him to come out and go to the cafe.
When you realize it’s been a while since he disappeared you decide it’s better to go and see if everything’s okay. Standing up you unsurely walk to the door of the fitting room, the structure of the building being always the same makes finding the way easier. You knock at the door.
«Jungkook? Are you okay?»
«I- uhm, I’m coming, give me a second!» he answers back with a high-pitched tone, so you nod and go back to your bench, waiting for him. It takes him another three minutes to finally come out, his hair are a little bit messy and you think he must’ve ran his hands through them a few times.
«Are we- are we still going?» he asks. With your worries at the door of the fitting room he thought you might have heard him before, but when you nod and smile he lets his previous thoughts fade.
You head out of the studio and to the cafe, trying to ignore the way your panties practically slips against your folds. Jungkook tries to think about what to say and how to begin a safe conversation for the both of you without feeling uncomfortable or awkward but he just can’t seem to find nothing else than the question he asks.
«You wanted to talk?» lowering his gaze to his side he looks at you walking in silence. You quickly nod.
«I wanted to thank you, actually» you turn to smile at him, the butterflies in in stomach invading every part of his body.,«You know, for Jin.»
«Oh, no- no problem» he smiles back, his eyes sparkling and you can’t deny the sudden warmth you feel in your chest. «It’s the least I could do, for what happened?» his sentence sounds again like a question, but by now you’re kinda used to it. You scoff.
«Let’s say I forgive you for the dress and the awkward meeting» you tease. His eyes squint and he wrinkles his nose.
«That wasn’t my fault» he murmurs.
«Your friend?»
He nods. «Teahyung»
«Well, then I forgive Teahyung and you for the dress» you smile again, his heart is beating like crazy.
«How much do I have to embarrass my-myself for the drink Yoongi spilled on you?» he’d like to giggle but he feels so freaking nervous that all he can do is let out a puff.
«I don’t know, you’re pretty good at that. I’d end up enjoying the show eventually and it wouldn’t be fair, I’d let you go on» you tease again. Jungkook’s cheeks heat up. His brain trying to understand if you’d say something like this because you like the way he acts around you or just for the fun of teasing him. The truth is, neither you know it now.
«It’s the thing I seem to be better at» your giggle makes him feel lighter.
«I was kidding» you stop your steps and he realizes you’re already in front of the cafe.
«You’re forgiven, more than forgiven. I actually feel like I owe you something now» you explain looking directly in his dark eyes, and damn, he’s really beautiful.
«Oh- no, no! Don’t, please» he shakes his head. «I- I wanted to make it up to you, you don’t owe me anything»
«Well, let me get you a coffee or something you’d like at least?» you point at the shop behind you. Jungkook licks his lips and takes another deep breath before nodding, following you in and trying to look elsewhere but the way you swing your hips with every step. You’re gonna be the death of him, and he’s slowly falling even more with every word you say.
Thanks to the time the cafe is almost empty, only two or three clients are sit on the chairs at the counter. Nevertheless, you sit at your favorite table, the one in the corner always forgotten by practically everyone. There’s something about this table that makes you feel safe, maybe it’s because no one seems to look at it, sometimes even the waitress forgets it.
«I’ll get a tea» you announce without even glancing at the menu, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and hides his head behind it. You wait for him to choose what he wants and when he’s done you raise your hand to the waitress behind the counter. The woman quickly walks to you, giving you a gentle smile.
«What can I serve you?»
«A tea for me»
«I’ll have a Red Velvet latte» Jungkook says, leaving you amused by his choice. The waitress quickly nods and leaves you with another smile.
«Red Velvet?» you ask «I’ve always wanted to try it but I always end up with tea or coffe» you reveal, Kook raises his eyebrows.
«I like- I like it. Maybe you want a sip?»
«Don’t worry, I’ll get it the next time»
«We can switch drinks if you want» he says as the same time as you.
«Really, Jungkook, don’t worry» you smile at him.
«Anyway, I really am thankful for Jin yesterday. He helped me a lot, without him I’d probably end up having a breakdown» you scoff at the end of your sentence even though it’s true. Jungkook watches you as you speak, completely taken by your words and the way you move your lips, your voice seems to be the only thing catching his ears now, not even one of his favorite songs playing in the background gets him.
«Thank you for being so nice and help me, Jungkook. It was Sunday and-»
«Hey, no problem» he cuts off your rumbling with his hand on yours, and the second he realizes what he has just done he takes it away with wide eyes. The only trace he leaves on your skin is the dampness of his sweaty palms.
«I’m- I’m sorry»
«Stop it, please» you almost whine and his features instantly sadden, afraid he just made another mistake. He tries to hide his expression but fails, and the guilt sneaks into you making you shake your head.
«I mean, stop being so stiff. Tell me, what is it?» you ask.
«What?»
«What do I do to make you this nervous?» you ask again. «I can try and-»
«It’s not you.» he cuts you off again. «I- I mean it is you, but it’s me. I-» he stutters.
«I can try to hide my face if you want» youironically propose as you grab the menu and cover your face with it. Jungkook frowns but immediately smiles at your silliness. «Does it work?»
«It- It’s not making any difference» he holds back a laugh.
«Are you sure?» you giggle. He shakes his head.
«I am, just- please, look at me» his words play a strange trick on your mind, making you harshly gulp as your heart skips a few beats. It’s noy like he had just said something that important, but your mind goes blank for a second.
«Y/N?» he calls, eyes fixated on the menu you’re holding. He stretches his arm out and grabs at the paper, slowly lowering it from your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Jungkook stares at every feature of your face taking in the sight in front of him, the power you have on him is fucking scary, and he’s realizing it for the first time now looking in your eyes.
«What happened?» he lets out in a whisper, not really certain of his voice at the moment. You gulp and shake your head. You don’t even know what happened, how are you supposed to explain him?
«There you go, your tea and your Red Velvet» the waitress comes in the way, and you thank her in your mind for saving you from the awkward situation you just putted yourself into. However, the interruption is fast and she leaves in a matter of seconds leaving you with your drinks.
You can’t help but glance at his glass, the crimson color of the drink intrigues you and the chocolate chips on top are the perfect frame. Jungkook lifts it from the table and stretches his arm again towards you, putting the drink basically under your nose.
«Try it» he manages to say holding his breath. He doesn’t even know where he gained all of this boldness, he just did it without thinking. And now that you stare at him he’s beginning to think he’s making things awkward again.
Your hands cover his, giving birth to another session of butterflies in his stomach and a shudder running down your spine. Jungkook understands he has to remove his hand from the glass to make you drink and he slips away like he just got burn by a blazing fire.
Taking a sip you let yourself taste the sweetness of the latte and the chocolate chips before giving him his drink again, deciding this will definitely be your next order at this place.
«It’s so good» you whine, Jungkook smiles.
«It’s one of my favorite drinks, Jin- he always tries new things and likes to feed us like babies. He introduced me to this»
«I really like it» you bring your cup of tea to your lips, taking a sip. «My tea is so boring now» his smile widens.
«We can really switch drinks if you-»
«No, don’t worry, really»
He nods, taking the first sip of his Red Velvet.
«So Jin is kinda like the mama of the group?» Jungkook smiles at your comment.
«He is the oldest» he nods. «He likes to take care of us and we like to eat» you giggle at his words.
«His cooking is really good, I haven’t eaten that good in months. I should have insisted more on paying him» you take another sip from your tea.
«Trust me, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it» Jungkook smiles at you, and it’s a matter of seconds before he finally noticed he’s not stuttering anymore. In fact, he feels more comfortable. «He was happy to help»
«Oh, trust me, he helped me a lot»
You try to think what would’ve happen yesterday if it wasn’t for him, the result would have been even worse than it already is. Jungkook’s heart warms up knowing he was really able to help you, he made something right. The smile you have on your face makes him want to work even more to create a brand new one.
«What about Yoongi? Does he spill his drinks on everyone?»
«No, he doesn’t» Jungkook scoffs and avoids telling you the reason why he actually spilled it. «He’s the second hyung. Actually, he’s usually very quiet. His stage name is Suga»
«I heard about him» you raise your eyebrows. «Someone told me he injured his shoulder fighting over a first prize but I didn’t think it was him they were talking about, and honestly I didn’t know if it was true» 
The maknae shakes his head. «It’s not true. He actually got injured while working, he had to find a job to pay for his dance lessons and eventually he started a delivering job. He got hit by a car.» Jungkook stares at the wooden table «People often say that or that he tried to beat one of the judges and got kicked in his ass. I don’t get why they like to make up something so stupid» an heavy sigh leaves his lips.
«Last year I broke my uncle because I was pushing myself too hard for a contest and eventually I didn’t perform. I heard people say I couldn’t ‘cause I was pregnant» you tell him, the memory still makes you wrinkle your nose. Jungkook’s eyes widens before he opens his mouth.
«I hate rumors» he mumbles. «Who- who do you want to know about now?» he stutters a little bit, deciding to bring back the conversation to a positive vibe.
«Taehyung? Was it his name?» you squint your eyes.
«Yes» he nods. «Taehyung is the second maknae and a fashion icon in the group, we always try to look as cool as him but he just has that something that makes you give up and stay in your sweat pants.» you giggle at his comment and he can’t help but smile at your sparkling eyes.
«He doesn’t usually act like the first time we met, he’s pretty confidential.» Jungkook takes the last sip of his Red Velvet and you do the same with your now almost cold tea while you take in all the informations.
«Namjoon is the dad of the group, he’s always willing to give you advices but at the same time able to give you a good shake. He and Jimin are my go to when I need to talk to someone, but the others are pretty good at listening too. Jimin is the third maknae»
«Who’s the first?»
Jungkook puckers his lips. «Me» 
«How old are you?»
«I’m twenty two» he answers, remembering this is the last day he gets to say it. For a little moment he thinks of you at his birthday, but he forces himself to push the picture away, it would be weird to invite you when you’re talking fr the first time.
«I’m older than you!» you can’t help but exclaim, Jungkook licks his lips.
«Really?»
You nod.«I’m twenty four»
«How- how should I call you then?» he bits his lips, a little bit of nervousness sneaks again into him, worried you don’t like the way he has been talking to you.
«Oh, please don’t call me noona!» you shake your head and smile at him.
«Are you sure?»
«Yes, Jungkook. Don’t change the way you were talking to me, I liked it. It was natural» you smile at him, your heart beats faster when a smile shines on his face and lights up his features. Jungkook is trying to be as natural as he can, trying to speak without blubbering still stunned by your presence in front of him, and hearing those words make him less tense.
«Hoseok is the only one left. He’s a ray of sunshine, always able to make you smile and laugh. His stage name is J-Hope. He’s a spring, his movements are as fluid as water. Oh, and he can’t hide his expressions whenever he’s angry, even though it’s difficult to annoy him. His face goes like this» Jungkook’s try to emulate his friend is quickly cut off by your bursting laugh because of his expression, and he can’t hold back his giggles at the sound of your happiness.
«Sounds like a beautiful group» you say when you finally stop laughing, your cheeks are hurting while you take a look inside your mug, realizing only now it’s empty.
«It is, they’re my family» the tone he uses makes a knot built up in your throat, smiling melancholic. And who the hell knows why, Jungkook notices it. 
«Is- is something wrong? Did I say-»
«No, no, no. It’s fine, I’m fine» you quickly say smiling again. He would like to ask you what’s wrong again until you’d probably end up answering him but he thinks he’d invade your personal space and annoying you.
«Are you sure? I- I know I ask this a lot but-»
«I’m sure, thank you for asking» you interrupt him with another gentle smile. Jungkook knows it’s not true, but he nods anyway, bringing his gaze to his empty glass. His action makes you bring yours to your phone, unlocking the screen and realizing only now it’s almost eight and a half.
«I should go now»
He raises his glance, the feeling in his chest it’s telling him to not let you go but he can’t do that.
«I’ll see you tomorrow at the studio?» you ask him while getting up from your chair, rummaging through your purse looking for the wallet. Jungkook is about to say yes when he remembers tomorrow it’s their free day.
«No, not tomorrow» he smiles at you getting up and producing a shrill sound with his chair against the floor, his cheeks heat up for the fiftieth time only in an hour.
«Oh, I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday then? Or whenever we-»
«Could you give me your number?»
If he thought his heart already risked a heart attack many times with you, then now he should be dead from the way it’s beating. Blood running through his body so fast that he can hear it his in his ears, the tip of them and his cheeks flashing red, palms sweating more than before. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked you.
You stare at him for a few seconds, completely stuttered by his question as you gulp harshly and blink a few times.
«You- you promise you won’t send me nudes?» you joke, and this time you are the one who’s left with her mouth agape, wondering where the hell that just came out from. «Oh my-»
«If you don’t ask for them I won’t» Jungkook scoffs, the fact you just said something like that is making him feel lighter. You raise your eyebrows at him.
«I won’t, I surely won’t» you quickly rebut but you’re afraid he might be offended so you keep adding words making everything worse. «I mean- not that I wouldn’t like them, it’s just-»
«Y/N» he interrupts your dwelling. «I- I won’t send or ask for nudes» he laughs at his own words at the end of the sentence, making you grimace.
«I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that»
«It’s okay» he smiles at you and you let out a shaky breath before putting ten bucks on the table and heading to the door with him.
Jungkook dials your number on his phone and quickly sends you a message to let you save his, still freaking out in his mind for what happened in just an hour of being with you.
The afraid of being awkward he felt at the beginning is still there, but he feels more comfortable now that he knows a little bit about you. He’s still nervous, palms still sweaty and heart still beating like crazy, gaze still trying to lock with yours just to shudder and blush under it. He likes the way his nervousness shaded with the comfortableness you made him feel talking to you, his chest both threatening to explode because of the tension but still tasting the sweetness of the naturalness and ease, the combo is one of the weirdest to ever exist, but it’s true.
«Goodbye, Jungkook» you smile at him after putting your phone back in your purse. You think about your actions for a moment before quickly tiptoeing and leaving a soft peck on his cheek that makes him almost feel dizzy. The way your soft lips touched his skin will haunt him even in his dreams tonight. He’s not rapid enough to smile at you while you turn and walk away, too shocked by your actions, but he smiles anyway.
This is the first time Jungkook realizes he just had a bite of the cake, and now he wants to eat it all.
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«Are you kidding?» Taehyung’s deep voice resonates through the stairwell and Jungkook can hear it even by pulling his phone away from his ear.
«I’m not, Tae» he rushes to the door and hangs up before opening it sure that his friend is already there. In fact, he is. Standing still in front of him in his Gucci palazzo trousers looking like a model.
«Happy birthday, Kookie» he smiles at him and hugs him tight making Jungkook chuckle.
«You just said it on the phone»
«I know» he pats his shoulder. «Where are the others?»
«They’re coming» Jungkook takes a look to his lounge, the table is already set and the food is almost ready, Jin will be proud of him.
«Is she coming too?» Taehyung asks, Jungkook turns like top.
«What? No»
«Why not?»
«I don’t know... we don’t have that much of intimacy. And with you?» he knits his eyebrows thinking of the possible ending of doing something like that. «She’d probably feel like a fish out of water and you’re gonna embarrass me if I’m not the one doing it» he shakes his head.
The bell rings and Kook rushes to the door to welcome his friends, Hobi and Jin are standing there with the biggest smiles on their faces and hands full of envelopes, smiles as bright as the sun.
«There will be a day when you’ll be old and people will make fun of you, and it’s coming! Happy birthday!» Jin hugs the maknae laughing for his own words and Jungkook does the same. Hobi joins the hug, making Tae grimace and run to them.
«I feel alone» he mumbles before wrapping his arms around the three of them, Jungkook in the middle is almost dying, being the burger in the middle of the bread.
«Happy birthday!» Hobi screams, his voice echoing in the hallways remembers Jungkook the door is still open.
«Okay, now set me free» he laughs. «Where are the others?» their grip on him loosen and he finally closes the door.
«They went to buy you a cake, Seokjin made you one but Joon ate it last night without knowing it was yours» Hobi burst out laughing.
«It was obvious! He should’ve known it!» Jin screams frustrated with his eyes wide.
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«Look at that!» Jimin points at the cake through the glass, his eyes sparkling at the sight and his mouth begging to taste the sweetness of the sponge cake. He looks like a baby.
«Ugh, Chimin! It’s for Jungkook, not you!» Namjoon scolds him making the corners of his mouth drop.
«I know what he likes!» he says back. Yoongi shuts his eyes, they’ve been in here for almost ten minutes now, fighting over which cake they could buy and not really getting anything.
«Do you-»
«He’ll like that» Yoongi cuts off Joonie’s words and point at the cake nodding to the pastry chef behind the counter who quickly smiles at him.
«Could you write “Jungkook” on top of it?» Jimin asks with a kind smile, the baker nods and he raises his eyebrows at Namjoon.
«See? It’s gonna be perfect, you need to listen to me!»
Namjoon sighs and shakes his head, taking a glance out of the shop to see his girlfriend still in the car waiting for them, eyes fixated on her phone.
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Your parents had decided to ring your doorbell without telling you they were coming over. Luckily - or unfortunately - it’s Tuesday, and on Tuesday you’re usually home for lunch, but when the doorbell squeaked you didn’t really think it was them. Maybe the postman or a neighbor, but not your parents.
«Surprise!» they both screamed. It was the worst surprise ever. You didn’t know they were coming so you didn’t make lunch for them, didn’t tidy up properly, didn’t hide your things and didn’t lock your door. Plus, you weren’t prepared for another mental breakdown, not so soon after they gave you one just two days ago. And you still aren’t now, listening to them talking while you eat your salad.
«Your mother decided to come visit Ailiseu for a few days and September is already here so we decided not to wait until next month, it’ll be too cold» your father explains, his smile going from ear to ear. You instantly pray for the mental health of your cousin knowing how your parents can be, she’s gonna go out of her mind.
«Exactly! And we’re staying at her place, since she has a big house. Sorry honey, we would’ve asked you but we thought we’d be too much in here.»
«No problem» you try to sound as kind as possible. This is the good side of having a small house, at least.
«How long will you stay?»
«Three days» your father says «but we’re going to Ailiseu for dinner, we’d like to spend today with you»
«Take a day off of work.» your mother points her index finger at you. «We’ll have fun! We could go to the mall and buy some clothes, I really don’t like the shirt you’re wearing»
You stop eating fixing your gaze on your meal and trying to stay calm. This is a nightmare. How are you supposed to not go to work when they saw you were fine this morning? And notify them in half an hour? Your boss is going to go out of his mind and kill you. You won’t even be able to rehearsal today, obviously.
«Mom, I-»
«Please?» your father cuts you off.
You give up. It’s scientifically proven that you can’t beat them at this game without bursting out, that would definitely lead to an argument and you really are not in the mood for it. So you nod and finish your lunch listening to all their stories, your mother complaining about everything: the broken electric hand dryer at the gas station they stopped in, the way your father drives, your shirt - again -, your salad, your house and again your job. All of her words only make you wish to end this day as soon as possible but against your desire, time only seems to slow down while you wait for your her to come out of the bathroom.
You’re ready to go to the mall, you already called your boss and told him you had a setback and couldn’t go back to work this afternoon, and like you predicted before he didn’t sound happy at all, groaning things you couldn’t understand and quickly hanging up. Your mother is been in the bathroom for twenty minutes now making you frown and sink in your couch. When she finally comes out you head to the door in a second.
«Let’s go shopping!»
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Your feet are hurting, if they could talk their exact words would be “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” at every step you take. You’ve been in here for almost six hours now, dragged from a shop to another, from a salon to a shoe store and you’re pretty sure that by now you entered all the shops in the mall.
«What’s the time?» your mother finally stops walking at your father’s question, taking a glance at her golden watch.
«It’s almost eight,» she answers raising her eyes to you «we should probably go. Do you mind giving us a ride to Ailiseu’s place?»
You try to fake a small and force yourself to nod despite your tiredness, all you’d like to do now is lay down and sleep. Your brain health is being put to serious danger today, with all your parents endless rumblings and complaints, your mother even tried to buy you a shirt just for you to go change the one you have on in the public restrooms.
You head to your car with big strides and yawning, your parents’ words behind you about how beautiful your cousin’s house is  and how much their parents must be proud of her are making your chest heavy and your head pound.
You hope not to stay stuck in traffic once you get in your car and get out of the parking lot. You only make it to a few blocks before your wishes and hopes totally fade away, the cars blocking the street and the sounds of the honking filling your ears.
«We’re gonna be late, Ailiseu is waiting for us» your father sighs.
«Can’t you take a different road?»
«How am I supposed to take a different road now? There are cars behind me» you huff at your mother’s words.
«Then honk!»
«It’s not gonna change a thing, everyone is doing that!» you claim. Your dad shakes his head.
You wait at least five minutes before you move again, the silence only filled with your mother’s huffs and annoyed muttering. When you think you finally made it and you’re gonna be home soon, a loud thud makes you shudder and not even a second later you’re being pushed against the wheel because of the swing of your car, hitting your forehead against the glass of the windshield.
It takes you a few moments to realize you just got hit and before you know it you’re already putting on your hazards and heading out of your car. How is it even possible to witness to accidents in just a few days? 
You take a look to your parents while they do the same as you and when you see they’re fine you let out a sigh of relief that lasts as quickly as it came out. Your car is devastated at the back and there is no way you can walk home without shedding parts along your way, you only feel grateful that you and your parents are not hurt.
The man in the car behind you approaches you with fast steps and a worried face, tired eyes and shaky voice.
«I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful»
You don’t even understand how he managed to make such a mess to your car with the traffic on the streets now, he probably came out from one of the small roads where there weren’t cars and you were the lucky one to welcome him in the jam.
The man leaves you his number telling you to call him once you know how much this is going to cost you and quickly leaves, you end up calling a taxi for your parents and a tow truck for your car, trying to stay as awake as possible. After forty five minutes of waiting you’re so tired that you could lay down and sleep in the middle of the road if it wasn’t for the cars threatening your life, but apparently someone is hearing your prayers and the tow truck comes to rescue you. Your car is brought to the mechanic and you say goodbye to another one hundred bucks for the tow truck. You’re left alone in the middle of the jam, so you move to the sidewalk ready to call a cab. You had the worst day and you’re already thinking of how much you’ll have to work to get all the money you just lost back.
«Y/N?»
You’re being caught off guard when someone calls you while you’re bringing the phone to your ear. When you turn and find Jin smiling at you you quickly hang up.
«Jin, hi»
«What are you doing here?» he looks down at you as if he’s the Eiffel Tower and you’re the grass.
«Uhm, my car broke, I was going to call a taxi»
«If you want I can give you a ride? Can you wait a little bit? Just the time to sing happy birthday to Jungkook and give him the gifts, we’re looking forward to embarrass him» he laughs.
«Oh, it’s Jungkook’s birthday?» Jin nods realizing only now that Kook probably didn’t tell you. «I don’t know... I don’t want to bother, I wasn’t invited and I don’t have a gift and-»
«I think you’re thinking too much» he quickly cuts you off. «I don’t think it will be a problem for Jungkook or the others, he’ll be happy to see you»
You sigh. You could call a taxi and wait for it, spend another fifty bucks and head home. Or you could wait a little bit and spend the time you’d spend waiting on the street with them and maybe have a little bit of fun after this awful day, maybe. If things won’t get awkward again. It’d save you money you could use for the groceries, after all.
«Lead the way» you end up saying thanking him with a warm smile. He nods and soon you’re in the elevator waiting for the doors to open, hoping not to look as awful as you feel right now. You still feel sorry to break into his birthday party without an invitation, a gift or even a little bit of more intimacy between you two, so when the doors open and you hear the laughters coming from one of the apartments you think of getting back outside and call a cab. But it’s too late, one of his friends already holds the door open for Jin, glancing over his shoulder with curious eyes and widening them at you.
«Jimin, this is Y/N» Jin introduces you to his friend gesturing with his hands an impossible language for you to understand, not that it does have meaning, he’s just trying to tell him to contain his expressions.
«Y/N, hi!» his voice is soft and it makes you smile without an apparent reason. You link him to Jungkook’s words yesterday, the third maknae and apparently, the friend he often chooses to ramble on to.
«Jungkook!» he screams over the laughters coming from the other room, eyes still fixated on you.
«Teahyung won’t let me come!» At the sound of how happy is voice sounds, laughing and cracking in the middle you can’t avoid the warmth in your chest.
«Come in» Jimin steps aside and lets you and Jin in the house. «You can give your coat to me»
You thank him and give him your coat before you’re following Jin in the other room where the others are. Their laughters stop in a second when they glance at you, now filling the place just with silence. Jungkook’s heart stops beating for a moment, totally shocked and overwhelmed by your presence, mouth agape and eyes widened. He wasn’t prepared to see you, he totally wasn’t. He stares at blankly as if he just saw a ghost and not even when Taehyung finally sets him free from his hold he’s able to say something. Your cheeks are burning like fire under all their gazes.
«I’m Taehyung» the guy who was holding him smiles at you and takes a few steps before reaching out his hand. «I’m sorry about the awkward meeting»
«Oh, don’t worry» you shrug at the memory.
«Jungkook?» a deep voice seems to wake him up from his trance, Namjoon is telling him to do something with his eyes.
«I’m Namjoon»
Soon enough all of them gather around you and shake your hand welcoming you into the house with bright smiles and kind words. The only girl in the group tells you to call her Kitty and tells you she’s the Namjoon’s girlfriend, she seems pretty nice and you end up talking for at least twenty minutes, all of your tiredness seems to disappear. The only one you still didn’t talk to is Jungkook, and you’re afraid he’s annoyed by your presence. The thought makes your head throb, but you wouldn’t blame him after all. It’s his birthday and sure he’d like to spend it with the people he loves, not with you that he doesn’t know much and weren’t even invited.
«You should go talk to her» Namjoon whispers in Kookie’s ear.
As if he hasn’t thought about it already. Jungkook knows he should talk to you, but as I said before, he really isn’t prepared for this. And seeing you talking with his friends and smiling makes the feeling in his chest even more uncontainable. You’re smiling and you seem at ease with them, sipping from your glass from time to time and laughing at Jin’s jokes. He likes this picture, you in his house, all bright and happy. He could get used to it. And all of this, only makes his anxiety grow until it’s skyrocketing.
«I’m gonna say or act awkward and ruin things again, I’m not-»
«And do you think that staying here won’t? She’s in your house, it’s your birthday and you didn’t even greet her. It surely...» he trails off when you take a few steps towards them. Jungkook bits the petal of his lower lip feeling the usual but still new mixture of emotions rushing through his blood until it reaches his chest and totally takes over him. Namjoon pats at his shoulder and glance at you with a kind smile before standing up from the couch with Hobi and heading to the kitchen. Jungkook stares at you for the millionth time, wishing to say something, anything, but the words are caught in his throat.
«Happy birthday» you stop in front of him, glancing down at the pillows beside him. «Can I?»
 He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth even more before nervously nodding.
«I’m sorry,» you say softly after sitting on the couch «I didn’t want to break in and annoy you, my car broke and Jin offered me a ride home and-»
«You didn’t annoy me, you don’t annoy me. Never- you never annoy me» he blurts out. «You- you can stay as much as you want» his cheeks are heating up, and you don’t even know why but you suddenly smile like a baby, his words make you feel more at ease.
«I don’t have a gift»
«It doesn’t matter» he smiles at you, your heart both stuttering when you lock eyes.
«If I’m being honest, I-» he stops talking, eyes shifting from yours to meet the ground.
«What?»
Jungkook stays silent for a moment, thinking about what he wants to say over and over again, trying not to make it sound as cheesy as it sounds in his head, but the truth is that there aren’t other words to express it.
«I like you here»
«What?»
«I-» he gulps «I like you here, with us?» he wants to slap himself. Why did he even think about telling you something like this?
«You seem happy?»
You squint your eyes at him, something about this conversation is making you more nervous than usual.
«I think I am?» why are you asking him?
Jungkook scoffs at your tone, it comes out so naturally that it makes your heart flutter. «You don’t sound so sure about that» he quotes your words, a bright smile creeping upon your face.
«Everyone is so nice and easy-going, and they made me feel comfortable even though I wasn’t meant to be here» you shrug. «You weren’t joking when you talked about them»
«Actually...» he clears his throat «I though of invating you yesterday but I- I didn’t cause I though it would be weird? I mean-»
«Jungkook, you don’t need to explain me why you didn’t invite me. Don’t justify yourself»
«I’m not» he replies fast enough to make you knit your eyebrows.
«But I’m happy you’re here now» the sound of those words are like sugar to your hypoglycemic heart, hearing them makes you feel something you never experienced, something that you missed since you were a little girl. The simple act of being happy to have someone near you and not expect anything from them is something you never witnessed, neither from your parents, even though they love you under those cold masks they wear. People always seemed to expect something from you, always. Jungkook is not telling those words without meaning them, he’s not expecting a thing from you. Not even a gift.
«Jungkook!» Hobi screams from the kitchen, tone breaking into a laughter and soon joined by others too. Jungkook shuts his eyes for a moment and then smiles before standing up from the couch. With boldness he didn’t think he has, he stretches his hand out for you to grab it, waiting with held breath and unsure dark doe-eyes staring directly into yours.
It’s a matter of seconds before you loose up and reach out to his hand, fingers intertwining with each other’s and a shudder running down your spine.
Jungkook stands still for a moment, his hand is limp against yours, he didn’t really think you’d grab his hand, not in this way. You’re not holding it to help you stand up, you’re intertwining your fingers with him. It’s different. The heat rising in your cheeks makes you feel like a teenager with her first crush and only now you realize that that’s why your heart is pounding and your brain is overthinking more than usual. You’re about to split away since he doesn’t tightens his grip on you, mentally slapping yourself for doing something like this. You’re fingers leave his and Jungkook’s chest feels suddenly more heavy. Reaching out again, he grabs your hand, fingers intertwine with yours and this time in a tight and sicure grip. His hands are a little bit sweaty for the nervousness, but so are yours. Your heart stutters, breath held as if you were free diving.
Both of you stand still for a moment before turning to look at each other, not even the time to say something that Hoseok is calling again from the kitchen.
«Jungkookie!»
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«Happy birthday!» the screams fill the apartment, Jungkook’s features are priceless with his eyes squinted and his cheeks flashing red, trying as best as he can not to die under everyone’s affections.
«Blow out the candles!» Jimin shouts «I’m the one who choose the cake!»
The happiness and the intimacy in the room is so overwhelming that you feel out of place for a moment, but Taehyung grabs you by your arm and brings you closer to the group.
«Come here, embarrass him with us» he winks making you laugh. Jungkook shakes his head, he’s still at ease for the happy birthday song but he can’t fight the big bunny smile taking over his face. And when he sees you laughing with Teahyung, it takes him just a second to let go of the uncomfortable feeling in his chest only to be left with the desire of the sweet taste of the cake, and not the one on the wooden table.
Taking a deep breath he blows out the candles, eyes fixated over you making your heart skip a few beats. He doesn’t even think of a wish, all he wants it’s here tonight; the warmth of his friends, the love they feel for each other, maybe the new beginning of something, anything.
The candles die out, leaving the room in the dark for a few seconds before someone finally turns the lights on.
«Time for the presents!» Namjoon screams.
«Oh, please!» Jungkook whines and the laughters of his friends grow even more. Yoongi disappears to bring all the bags with the presents in and everyone except from Jungkook and Hoseok seats on the carpet in front of the couch even though it’s empty, you guess it’s one of their habits.
«I’m gonna cut the cake» Hobi announces turning around to face the table and start his task while Jungkook makes his way through the bodies of his friends, apparently towards you. He stops in front of you, still standing still a little bit out of place.
«You wanna sit on the couch?» he points at the sofa and you end up asking yourself why you didn’t do it sooner. You sit on the cushions, eyes fixated in front of you even when he follows you and sits beside you under everyone’s gaze, his friends staring at him before gazing away.
«Here comes the cake!» Hobi is a ray of sunshine with his bright smile while he distributes the dishes to everyone and soon enough you’re closing your eyes and letting out a whine at the taste of the sponge cake.
«It’s so good» you let out with your mouth full, words almost puzzling. Jungkook bursts out laughing and you need to gulp trying not to choke.
«Ah! See?» Jimin points at Namjoon «I choose it!» he turns to you with bright eyes and a big smile reaching his eyes.
«My taste buds are thanking you» 
Yoongi enters the room with his hands full of bags and places them beside Jungkook.
«Alright, let’s begin» he sits in front of the couch. Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to grab the first bag.
«This is from?»
«Ugh, I forgot to write it again» Hobi murmurs making everyone laugh. Jungkook opens all the gifts, every single one of them makes you know him a little more, a little better, a little deeper. From the sweater of Hoseok to the set of products for his skincare by Jimin, they all tell you something about him. It’s Jin’s turn when he suddenly gets up from the carpet and shakes his head in the jumpiest of ways.
«Wait, wait, wait!» he almost screams. When he realizes what he’s doing he try to fake a smile. «I need to talk to you»
«What?»
«I need to talk to you» he repeats.
«Now?»
«Jungkook ya! Yes, now!» Jin looks at him with eyes widened almost as if he’s trying to communicate with him but Jungkook can’t really understand what is happening, so he just wakes up and follows Jin in another room, not a second later the hyung comes back just to bring his presence for Kookie with him.
«Alright, I’m gonna take another piece of cake» Namjoon says, her girlfriend gets up from the carpet with him to do the same. Taehyung smiles at you from the ground and quickly gets up, sitting next to you. You end up talking for at least ten minutes, conversation as fluid as the water and a comfortable feeling of naturalness you haven’t been feeling for a long time. You think you’d like to hang out with them more, they make you feel good with their positivity.
Jungkook finally comes back in the room after fifteen minutes, gaze and smile that now you can identify as nervous. He sits on the couch beside you grabbing Jin’s present again, digging in the bag until he finds it. Ripping the paper off, the new set of kitchen tools lights up his eyes. Now that the presents are all discarded, Jin looks at you.
«Do you want to go home now?»
Would that be wrong or weird if your answer was no? You glance at Jungkook, his eyes already on you.
«Wait, wait!» he bursts out, now standing up and heading out of the room. Your expression is blank until he comes back, wondering what just happened. Jin seems to smile when he see his friend rushing back with a bag in his left hand.
«Come ou- out, please?» Jungkook asks. You nod still uncertain and you follow him to the balcony, he makes sure to close the door behind you so that nobody can hear you.
Silence fills the air just for a little bit, the only sound that can be heard is the night, so peaceful and quiet, the light whistle of the wind. Jungkook is again repeating to himself that he can talk without embarrassing himself or making you feel awkward, he did it until now, kinda. He clears his throat and raises his gaze, hand scratching his neck. This can’t go worst than the first times you met, after all. It’s a simple action.
«I-» he stops without even starting.
«Am I making you nervous again?»
His expression changes, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape as he starts to shake his head.
«No, I- I mean...» he trails off and you don’t know why, but you feel the need to reassure him. So you smile at him, one of those warm smiles that makes his heart stutter and wonder if he’ll ever get to see another one, if this one doesn’t kill him. He gathers all his strength to talk through the smile that wants to take over his features.
«I’ve got your dress» he lifts his hand.
«What?»
«I’ve- I’ve got your dress. This is your dress, the dress you wanted» his cheeks are burning.
«It-it’s not my dress, it’s yours»
«I-» his eyes widen at the thought of the explanation he has to give you, so many words he wants to groan.
«I saw you liked the dress and-»
«You saw I liked the dress?»
«Yes, I mean- I was in the shop when you came in.» he claims. «I saw you looking at the dress and I thought you’d like it as an apology gift? So I- I was trying to understand the size you were looking for and praying that there was on- only one or that you’d let me buy it for you.» he quickly blurts out.
«There was, but you had already found it and I- I should’ve just walk away but I didn’t and-» he stops again.
«You know the end»
He had already told you what happened but you really didn’t think it was this, with the little details it sounds totally different. The silence makes his way again and Jungkook feels like he’s about to explode for the way his cheeks are heating up, so he’s quick to place the bag in your hands.
«I- I wanted to give it to you and I took it at the rehearsals. Jin- he mistook it for a towel and- this- this is a new one don’t worry. I tried to search for it online but apparently they only sell it in his store and Jin found it today and-»
«Thank you» you cut him off, your warm smile reaching your eyes and now setting on fire his. He’s sure he’s gonna burn by the end of this.
Opening the bag and raising your hands to look at the cloth you realize that you couldn’t care less now. It’s beautiful, but it’s just a piece of cloth. It’s the action behind it that you find more beautiful, even though you would’ve never think about it this way just a few days ago. Jungkook searched for it online, and he grabbed it from you because he wanted to buy it for you. Well, maybe he should learn how to contain himself, but it doesn’t matter. He never wanted to tease you or make you feel uncomfortable, it’s just a consequence of him being around you. And that’s exactly why he acted like that.
«I’m sorry»
«We need to stop to say that» you scoff. «I don’t care anymore, not now that I know what happened»
«So- you- you’re not mad at me?» 
«Why should I be?» you frown at him «Jungkook, I’m not. Honestly, I-» you stop talking to glance at him. And the only thing you can feel is your heartbeat raising until it’s skyrocketing, you can feel it in your ears. An insolite warmth, a weird sense of happiness you never got to really feel. And something inside you is telling you to fucking let go of your armor, break it apart and take a risk for once, just one and just now. Damn, how much you would like to know what’s the taste of his lips, of him. If only you were more bold.
«Trust me, I’m not mad at you» you almost whisper, so low you’re not even sure he heard it.
Jungkook shifts his gaze from you to the dress in your hands, and before he can stop himself the words are already leaving his mouth. 
«Do- do you want to wear it?» he wants to slap his face again.
«Now?»
«You’re right, do- don’t. I mean, if you want to wear it I-»
«Jungkook, stop talking»
You look into his dark doe-eyes fighting the urge to drown in them, but it’s just a matter of understanding it, you already are breathless and desperately swimming to get to the surface.
«I don’t think it’s the right dress code for tonight and Jin is probably waiting for me»
«I- I can give you a ride if you want? I mean, you can stay more, you know that?»
«I wouldn’t like to both-»
«You don’t.» he states, eyes never leaving yours.
«Please, stay? Just a little more. Or let me take you home?» he’s almost imploring for a little bit more of your presence, but he doesn’t care anymore, not now. There’s something inside him that doesn’t want to do anything else than let you know the effect you have on him, what a strong power.
«Alright» you breath out. «I’ll stay, but tomorrow I have to wake up at six, I’ll probably have to go in a little bit»
Jungkook nods and feels the guilt sneaking in at the same time.
«Oh, I didn’t know it. You- you can go»
«Jungkook, I’ll stay for a little bit more. Don’t worry.» you lightly scoff, his worrying for you causes a weird feeling in your chest. «I’d be happy to eat another piece of cake.» you smile.
«Plus, I like being with you» 
Jungkook feels his chest warming, the thought of him making you feel good almost sends him dizzy. He knows that he can’t answer you now, he’d just say or blubber something without any sense, so he just smiles. One of those smiles that you really don’t know what they do to you, but you can feel it.
You end up talking for another five minutes before he goes in to bring a piece of cake to share and to tell Jin he doesn’t have to leave now to take you home, you didn’t tell him if he can give you a ride, but Jin usually leaves pretty late, so it’s not a problem for him.
When he comes back again he’s sure he has never seen someone as beautiful as you. The way the light of the moon lights up your features and the shadows of the night make them look even more charming, the way the light breeze makes you hair swing.
Jungkook sits beside the table and you do the same, body facing the city lights that make you feel a little more small.
«Here» he gives you a spoon. You eat the cake, air filled with light laughters from time to time and light conversation. His presence really seems to make you feel good, lightweight. Like you haven’t felt in months. The end of the time you gave yourself quickly arrives and you end up standing up and ask him for the bathroom before you go home.
The tiredness is taking over you again, but you’re not regretting staying more, not even a little bit. Placing your phone and your purse on the washbasin you start to think of how fast things can change in just the slightest amount of time. Just a couple of days ago you thought he was trying to make fun of you with his friends, and now you’re enjoying their presence and wishing the night would last just a couple of house more, so that you could go to sleep later. But it’s not possible, so you quickly grab your purse and rush back where Jin is waiting for you. You told him before you would be leaving with him, even thought the thought of Jungkook giving you a ride home was screaming to come out, you don’t want to ruin the party by bringing away the birthday boy. Saying goodbye to everyone is like a promise of seeing each other again and you end up sharing your numbers with Namjoon’s girlfriend and with Teahyung, telling each other you’d like to hang out together.
When it’s Jungkook’s turn he hands you your bag with your dress in it knowing you left it on the balcony to go to the bathroom.
«I’ll see you tomorrow?» he asks with a low tone as if it’s a secret.
Thinking about what happened today with your car, you’re not quite sure if you’ll make it to the rehearsals tomorrow, you have to work until midday and if your boss lets you, you’d like to work overtime to save more money, you already spent a bunch of them for the tow truck and you still have to fix your car. You’re just glad your mechanic is a friend of yours and will probably give you a discount.
«I’m not sure I’ll make it, I’ll probably work overtime» you grimace. Jungkook‘s features fall a little bit but he’s quick not to show you and nods. You’re about to tiptoe and leave two pecks on his cheeks like you did with everyone when his hand reaches yours and your heart do cartwheels. Your fingers intertwine for the second time tonight and you can feel your cheeks heating up with his.
Jungkook keeps telling himself to not make you feel uncomfortable, this is a bad idea, but he really doesn’t understand you feel everything but uncomfortable right now. The warmth of his body is so close to yours that you’d like to crush in his arms without any hesitation. Looking up at him, he stares at your face, marveled by the way you make him feel before quickly tilting his head. The action is so fast you don’t have time to understand what’s happening, and in a second his lips are pressed against your forehead, gente and dangerously soft that you’d die to feel them on yours.
Without even realizing it your arm wraps around his back and he feels himself stiffening at the contact, he wasn’t expecting it, and neither his cock, now throbbing in his jeans and remembering him that its better if he lets you go. So he does so, trying to smile as best as he can and ignore the reddish of his cheeks. Thanks to God no one is watching you, or he’d be dead by now.
«Good night, Jungkook. And happy birthday.»
And so you smile at him and turn around to head to the door with Jin.
What a birthday.
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It’s only the next day you realize you don’t have your phone. You want to yell at yourself for adding another piece to the puzzle of your stress. You did nothing but run like crazy for the whole morning at work and you thought that at least you could relax during your lunch break but apparently, it’s not possible. You have two free hours and you don’t have any idea about what you’re going to eat for lunch, but you repeat to yourself it doesn’t matter. You’re just praying you told the right address to the cab driver and hoping that he is home. You’re going to Jungkook’s, and the thought alone makes a fluttering sensation rush through your chest, and now you’re even more nervous. You usually wouldn’t break in people’s house like this but it’s the only way, you really need your phone today considering your car is at the mechanic’s and your parents are in the same city as you. You can’t wait until tomorrow and hope he’ll bring it to the studio, this is the only way.
When you find yourself opening the car door and taking a glance to the building in front of you it’s safe to say you feel relieved. At least the address is the right one. Your steps are smooth and you make it to the entrance door without any problem, but when you search for his name on the intercoms you suddenly feel stuck in place, your heart beating faster than usual. Repeating to yourself you need your phone, you press the button and wait for him to answer. A few seconds pass by and you’re already losing hope when finally a bzz signals that the entrance door is just being open. You expected him to ask you who you were but he simply quitted so you stare at the name on the button wondering if you should press it again. Your fingers move faster than your thoughts and a second later you’re waiting for him to answer to tell it’s you, but Jungkook seems to have a different idea and again, he just re opens the entrance door. Sighing gently and giving up, you enter the apartments and get in the elevator.
The thought of being here again is making your chest warm, so warm it feels like a summer day. Last night since the moment your head touched your pillow you thought about him shamelessly, trying to understand the way he made you feel and to categorize it in some kind of way. You found no answer, you don’t even understand yourself when you’re with him. Yesterday has been one of the worst days ever but it took him nothing to make it better for you, even with his stuttering and nervousness, he was able to make you feel... mattered? Since the moment you met him for the first time Jungkook screwed up almost every time you talked, but he always found a way of making it up, maybe with a little bit of unease and already on his way to screw up one more time, but he did. And just the simple fact he cares enough to try even though he knows you so little makes you smile and worry at the same time. You’re not used to all this attention, you’re usually the one who’s always trying to hard, at his place.
The doors open and and you have to go out to let the person in front of you get in the elevator, so you end up staring at his door.
«I’m going now!» a yell comes from inside, you don’t have time to understand whose voice it is or what it’s happening that Jimin is already standing in front of you with his eyebrow raised and a smile forming on his lips.
«Hi, Y/N»
«Jimin, stop teasing me!» Jungkook screams from inside. Jimin widens his eyes and then his lips in a shocked expression as you smile at him.
«Hi, Jimin»
Just the sound of your voice and the maknae is losing it all, rushing to the door to see if his mind played a trick on him. Apparently it didn’t, since you’re staring at him with your mouth open and your breath stuck in your throat, and Jimin has pretty much the same expression.
Why are you... Oh-
«Fuck, I’m sorry» his cheeks heat up and Jimin shuts his eyes as Jungkook realizes he’s not wearing his shirt, fast enough to run to his bedroom that he could challenge the wind. His friend shakes his head.
«I should go, see you» he holds the door open for you to enter and then goes out with a warm smile. The second he shuts it you’re left in a house that now seems ten times bigger than yesterday night, maybe for the lack of people, maybe for the silence. Or maybe because you feel so little in this moment you wouldn’t be surprised if someone stepped on you.
«I’m sorry to break in your apartment like this» you speak out loud, not sure if he hears you. Jungkook bites his lips.
«I forgot my phone and-»
«Here» he shows up from the corner of the short hallway, your phone in his hand.
«Thank you» you grab it and put it in your purse.
«I charged it for you yesterday night»
«Oh, really?» he nods. You smile as another thank you and Jungkook opens his mouth to speak when a low grr fills the air and this time it’s you the one with your cheeks reddening.
«Are- are you hungry?» What a stupid question, of course you are. «I made some pasta if you want it»
«I should be back to work in an hour and a half and I’m not sure I have the time to eat, I have to wait for a cab too»
«I- I can take you? If you want?» he licks his lips. «It’d save you time and the pasta is ready»
He’s right, and your stomach is dying to be filled.
«Alright» you nod and he smiles triumphant, the way his eyes seem to smile at your words makes you wonder.
«Why are you so kind to me?»
Jungkook’s smile turns into a slight pout that makes you want to peck his lips as he raises his eyebrows.
«What do you mean?»
You struggle to find the right words. «I- You... you always try to help me or worry about me, even for little things like when we went to the cafe and you kept on asking me if I wanted to switch drinks. When things become awkward it’s because you try to make a good impression and fail, but you’re always trying.» the tone you’re using makes Jungkook grimace. He can tell you’re not used to this from the way you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot as you speak.
How can he explain it to you? How can he tell you he’s so head over heels for you he can’t even think of stop trying? Jungkook bites the petal of his lips furiously as his mind tries to find the right answer, but there is not and he lets out a strangled groan as he realizes it.
« I... I- I really like you» 
Your expression is blank, totally. His words almost seem not to touch you as he studies every part of your face for a reaction.
«You’re not used to this, ri- right?» he scratches the back of his neck.
«I’m really not» you breath out. Jungkook knits his brows together.
«Do you- you want me stop it?»
«I-» you shake your head «I don’t think so? I’m really not used to it, Jungkook. It may sound incredibly stupid but I never had someone who asked me if I wanted to switch drinks just because he wanted me to taste the best one and not to actually steal it from me.»
«Well, now you have me» his words are firm, so incredibly firm it makes you clench your jaw, and his eyes are the same.
«I- I charged your phone because I was worried you would need it today and couldn’t use it. I’m offering you a ride because I like spending time with you, I don’t want something in return other than you, your time.» his voice his calm and his shoulders seem to loose with every word he says as if he’s letting go of a heavy weight.
It’s all striking you in a second, and the hit is so hard you end up holding your breath. It’s not really the fact he likes you that makes you this stunned, it’s the fact he actually cares. Your parents never showed their affection to you without expecting you to give them something back, wether it was a high grade or a good impression on your neighbors, and when you stopped trying to always give back something their affections towards you had simply stopped, replaced by fake “honey” and other nice words just to cover the fact they didn’t really believe in you enough to show it. And with your friends and coworkers is pretty much the same, always waiting for something in return.
The sudden realization makes your eyes tingle and you vision blurry.
«I’m sorry»
Jungkoook shakes his head and gets closer, the thought that no one ever cared enough to show you how much you matter or acted just for the simple intent of doing something for you and not actually for them wrecks him apart. His mind flies back to when Seokjin told him about your parents and how they acted or spoke to you, he can clearly see the weight of every single word of them in your shiny eyes now, hurting you and making you question his good actions just because you’re used to the most selfish ones. It makes him want to bury you with attention, show you that people can do something for others too and not just to feed their egoistic side.
«Come here» it’s as low as a whisper, but you don’t hesitate a second to let his arms wrap around you, hiding your face on his shirt and soaking it with the tears that are now streaming down your face. His grip is tight and you can hear the stuttering of his heart against your ear, one of his hands gets to your hair and starts to softly, sweetly stroking at them to make you calm down just a little bit, head tilted over yours. His heart is aching seeing you like this.
«I’m sorry»
«Shh, stop saying that. We apologize too much» he holds you even tighter as you fist his shirt in your hands. Jungkook leaves a soft kiss in your hair and your heart skips a beat at the intimacy of the action. It’s only then that you realize you’re really letting someone see this side of you, the one you always try to hide because it’s to fragile to break, the one you hide even from yourself.
Slightly tilting your head upwards to lock eyes with him, Jungkook tries as best as he can to smile at you, even though his chest is has heavy as yours. His hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs caress your skin and wipe your tears away.
«Jungkook»
«Yes?»
«Please, kiss me»
His lips crush onto yours, Jungkook groans at the feeling and you instantly bring one of your hand in his locks as he tastes the salty taste left by the tears. As you lightly bite the petal of his lower lips Jungkook feels like he’s dreaming, and he prays not to wake up. His tongue slides in your mouth, wet and warm against yours, tracing and exploring each other and making you slightly tug at his locks, he moans in your mouth and brings one of his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to his body. The kiss is passionate, so damn needy, but not only in a sexual way. You need love, affection. Jungkook is more than welcome to help you with that, letting you waste all of your insecurities and frustrations on him until you feel completely dried, left with nothing but the realization of his taste on your lips, his hands against your skin, his embrace around you, him. And you need to push away to take it in, letting his forehead hover over yours and his heavy breath crush down on your face. His eyes are looking into yours and they make you feel things you now are able to categorize as humanly impossible, so dark and deep but so bright at the same time, lips still brushing against yours as you both take deep breaths. The frustration in your body is gone, your tears are dried, the only thing left is the need you feel to have him again on you, the desperate desire to taste him again. His mind prepares to the thought of a possible rejection, the idea you begged for him to kiss you just to drift your thoughts away storms his mind but he repeats to himself that whatever thing will come, this was definitely worth it. He’ll just have to face the fact that he just got only one bite of the cake. How can he even believe in it? Your lips are addicting, and he’s already craving for more.
«I could get used to this» you whisper. Jungkook never felt so relieved in all his life than now, letting out a shaky breath heavier than the others.
«Please, do it» he whines making you giggle and bring your lips on his again. This kiss is different from the other, more slow, more sweet, more intimate in a different way cause it’s just about you two. There aren’t emotions to run away from and to waste on the other, the only emotions are the ones you feel for each other. His lips move cautiously on yours as if he wants to taste every single part of you and imprint in his mind, your hand leaves his hair just to reach his neck and then his cheek, resting on his jaw. When you move away he rests his forehead again on yours and tilts down just to leave a few more sweet pecks on your lips, totally addicted to your taste. As you look at him you think this man we’ll send you out of your mind, if he didn’t already.
«Could you get used to me caring about you too?» he breathes. Your smile is bittersweet.
«It might take me a little bit» you answer. Jungkook strokes your cheek with his thumb, showing his bunny smile and making your chest a warmer and happier place.
«Then we’ll practice together, uh?»
«I’d like that»
1K notes · View notes
jeweledtoys · 3 years
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warnings: femdom, masturbation, praise/degradation i mean it's levi, mean! reader, overstimilation, accidental(?) cum tribute, levi has two snake dicks idc i do what i want.
my chance came in shuffle while listening some music and instead of being sensible i decided to be horny
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when you're away, in the human world and he misses you Leviathan can't even recognize who stares back at him on the mirror. he finds himself unable to concentrate on games or animes without the constant of you sitting next to him.
he finds it a little lame how much he misses his henry. yet he can't help himself.
spending his time enclosed on his bathtub instead, he finds himself with some of the clothes you left behind pressed to his nose with just enough of your essence in them to tease his imagination and his groin awake. and before he even thinks about it he finds one of the polaroids of you during your exchange year and then he's burying his nose into the fabric and unbuttoning his pants.
he misses you, he misses you so much it's painful. he needs you, he realizes stroking his length slowly, teasing the tip of one of his cocks just the way you do.
"you think you're cute? touching yourself while thinking of me" he can almost hear your faint words on his ears and he wonders, eyeing your picture on his hand, how would you react if you saw him like this
"who gave you permission to play alone?" you would say sitting at the border of the bathtub, giving him that sly smile that lets him know he's in trouble, the same smile you wear on the picture
you would slide one of your feet over his cocks, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm in his place, he would cover his face with his arm, incredibly embarrassed.
you would make fun of him.
he wants you there so bad.
"take them both" the you of his head murmurs and he complies, taking both cocks in his hand, his face covered with the shirt he stole from your room and refuses to put back.
and suddenly you're there, holding his arms above his head with his purple tie as your hand envelops his sex, already dripping precum. his shirt is open and his pants are down, legs open leaving everything there is for you to look at.
you toy with him with surprising ease forcing him to look at your eyes no matter how much he tries to avoid just that
"you look very pretty like this for a yucky, lame otaku" you say grabbing his blushing face and pressing your thumb against his lips, and while real-life him would be a mess by now, this is a fantasy so he allows himself to be brave and take your finger in his mouth, sucking
"so good," you say and he relishes in the praise closing his eyes. then your hands abandon him and he opens his eyes, whimpering at the loss of your touch.
"don't st-top, please," he says looking up at your figure
"toys don't speak, don't be gross Levi"
"please" he begs again, biting his lips
the look you give is enough for him to close his mouth even if he hates the cold air of his room hitting his skin. you're being mean to him, are you so grossed by him? maybe you don't want to touch him anymore?
"you're so desperate, it's disgusting" you're lifting your skirt, pulling down your panties, "say another word and I leave"
he wants to cry but he nods, you smile, that can just mean trouble
"Okay, be good then" you whisper bringing yourself back to him, taking one of his cocks in your hand, aligning it with your entrance, and pushing yourself around him in one sitting that leaves him seeing stars. you fix the remaining one that lays against his belly so that it rubs against your clit and before he has time to collect himself you roll your hips.
you're warm, and tight and slippery and his brain short-circuits for a second at the mere memory of your pussy around him.
he moans, hiding his face in his arms, yet is useless.
the bouncing of your body just increases in rhythm and soon enough he is drawing blood from his lips, trying his best to be quiet for you.
yet you're being as loud as possible, the crude, repetitive sound of your body against his that echoes on the room, the breathy moans that leave your lips and make him all mushy inside.
he can only lift his hips, trying his best to match your pace.
"look at you being so good" you coo, placing your hands on his chest, pinching one of his nipples and a mewl erupts from his throat, tears form at the corner of his eyes and he lets you kiss them away before they can fall
"open," you order and he obeys, letting you guide him into an open-mouthed kiss, and just as he does with his body he lets you do what you want to him, replaying by memory the taste of your mouth.
he feels tingly all over, the warmth in his lower belly reaching its tipping point. you start to move faster.
"ah-" he tries to warn you but it's too much, too good and in the blink of an eye he's trembling and emptying his load inside you and all over his belly, feeling his orgasm overwhelm his senses
"sorry" he pants, embarrassed
"don't be," you say, giving him no time to recover as you keep moving your hips against his.
and it's painful, he's sensitive and tired but his hand just keeps moving because he wants to keep things as realistic as possible and he knows that's what you'd do.
"too much" he cries
"too bad," you say, bouncing on his cock, that sly smile on your face, and sooner than later his second orgasm hits him, leaving him a mess.
he breathes, in and out, and you disappear much to his dismay, leaving him once more alone in his room, hands sticky with cum and nothing more than your shirt and your picture to remind him of you.
"oh" he pouts "it's ruined"
the only picture he has of you, now covered in his seed stares back at him and he can't help but feel a little guilty and disgusted at himself for it.
yet he doesn't want to throw it away.
"I'm no better than the jar guy" he whispers, cleaning himself.
782 notes · View notes
wandaromanova · 3 years
Text
Lost
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing
A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3
anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3
Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.
Word Count: 3K | navigation
please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3
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Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 
Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 
Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.
You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.
You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 
Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.
Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.
You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 
She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 
Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.
You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.
Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 
You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.
Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.
However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 
All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 
Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.
You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 
You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 
Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 
Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.
You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 
A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.
•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•
4 Hours Later
You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 
Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 
Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 
“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“I lost Sarah.” 
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Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.
The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 
So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 
You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 
“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 
The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 
“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 
“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 
Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 
“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 
“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 
“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”
The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 
Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 
You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 
You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 
You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 
The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 
Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 
The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 
Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.
And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 
•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•
 The Next Morning
You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 
You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 
You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.
Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 
You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.
“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.
“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.
“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”
Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 
“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.
‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 
One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.
“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”
Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 
“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 
“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 
“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 
“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 
You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 
“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”
Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 
“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 
The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 
Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 
However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 
Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.
Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
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crazygalore · 3 years
Text
GABRIEL MAY (MALIGNANT) NSFW ALPHABET
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TW: mentions of dysmorphia, NSFW
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Surprisingly, Gabriel actually NEEDS it, after each lovemaking session - no matter how gentle or how rough he was with you. He’ll draw the both of you a hot bath, and help you wash yourself. If you return the favour, this boy will positively melt, and let out tiny noises that sound suspiciously similar to little purrs. Afterwards, once he has patted your dry with a fluffy towel and dressed you in your favourite pyjamas, Gabriel will carry you to bed, and place you under the covers. Then, he will bring your favourite snacks and beverage, to enjoy while you huddle together to watch a movie before falling asleep.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Gabriel could never pick just one thing he loves about you - because he practically worships you body and soul. You are infinitely beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that you love and accept him for who he is feels like a miracle to him.
Since he doesn’t actually have a body of his own, he expresses his identity though clothes that he wears, which are different than the ones owned by Madison. Although they’re not body parts per say, he sees his leather coat and makeshift gold dagger as extensions of himself, and he enjoys donning them whenever he takes over his twin’s body. He will, sometimes, remain fully clothed during sex.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
His pleasure is your pleasure, and he will make you cum as much as possible, if only to enjoy your desperate moans and whimpers. 
Being transmasc and trapped his Madison’s body, he suffers from severe dysmorphia and doesn’t really enjoy being touched intimately. And, as stated HERE, he did communicate with his sister when the two of you decided to become intimate, because he felt like this specific situation called for his sister’s consent. She doesn’t have access to his memories regarding his sex life, though - which is for the best.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It’s not a secret that he loves watching you pleasure yourself. The first time he witnessed it, you weren’t aware he was there, lost as you were in the act, so he quietly enjoyed the show from the door, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mangled mouth.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
You are Gabriel’s first and only love, and the only person who ever saw him as a human being, worth of respect and adoration. So he doesn’t have that much experience, but he did his research and tried to learn as much as possible about the human body’s erogenous spots. That makes up for his lack of actual physical experience, at least most of the times. But since your guys’ relationship is based on trust, respect and communication, Gabriel is never ashamed to ask what works for you, and what doesn’t.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Missionary, since he usually uses his mouth, fingers or a strap-on to pleasure you - and he wants to be able to look at your face, kiss your lips and hold you in his arms during sex. Gabriel is a very tactile person, and extremely touch-starved, so he actually NEEDS to be held, caressed and comforted. It’s the main reason why he enjoys making love to you so much, because the physical intimacy is something he’d never experienced before.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
I wouldn’t say he’s particularly goofy, but he isn’t very stoic either. If anything awkward ensures during sex, he will try to make you laugh about it, so that you can relax and move on.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
He doesn’t actually have a private area of his own, and its pretty much Madison’s business as to how she grooms her nether region. He doesn’t actually care about those parts, since he never uses them.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Very intimate, very romantic and very needy. As stated above, he craves physical contact, and he melts whenever you treat him with gentleness and affection. Hold him, kiss him, caress his scarred cheeks, and tell him how good he makes you feel, and Gabriel will be putty in your hands.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t actually partake in this act, as he doesn’t enjoy looking at, or touching the private parts of the body he shares with his sister. But sometimes, he fantasizes about what he would do to you, if he had a body of his own.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Gabriel is surprisingly vanilla, but he can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. He will pin your wrists above your head, as he fucks you into the mattress, or guide you into touching yourself, his voice a mere growl coming from your phone’s speaker. Knife kink, maybe, but only when it comes to cutting off your clothes. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, so unless you insistently ask him to, Gabriel won’t hold his makeshift dagger to your throat, or drag its blade across your skin. After all, he has other ways to let out his violent frustrations, so he feels no need to bring that to the bedroom. He was hurt by people who abhorred him, and he returned the favour years later. Love and violence do not cross paths in Gabriel’s mind.
Also clothed sex, because he enjoys wearing his leather coat and gloves, as he teases your naked body mercilessly.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Anywhere inside the house, but the bedroom is his favourite, because it’s more private and safe. Plus, he enjoys taking his time, so the bed is the most comfortable option when it comes to lengthy lovemaking sessions.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Whenever you treat Gabriel with kindness and love, he will feel the need to bring you pleasure, and show you just how much he covets you. For him, sex is a means of expressing his affection for you - it’s an act of adoration and gratitude.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He will NOT hurt you, ever, no matter how much you insist. You are the only person who has ever treated him right, and he cannot bear the thought of harming you in any way.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Enjoys giving, and is very enthusiastic about it. This boy will eat you out for hours, and has become fucking expert at it. He knows just how to angle his face, and use his teeth and tongue to cause you maximum pleasure. Your taste is heaven to him, and your needy moans and whimpers are music to his ears. He will edge you, he will overstimulate you, he will play your body like a violin, using his mouth and fingers alone.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the mood. Slow and sensual is his go to, but he can be rough if you ask him to. But regardless of the pace, Gabriel is ALWAYS very passionate, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. Also, this boy is inhumanly strong, so he may end up becoming rough without even realizing it - but in case it becomes too much, all you have to do is tell him, and Gabriel will apologise and treat you more gently.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Not opposed to them, but he prefers taking his time.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He’s willing to try anything, so long as it doesn’t cause you any actual harm. Hickeys and faint finger-shaped bruises happen a lot, since he doesn’t always calibrate his strength properly all the time.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Oh, he could go on forever. Remember he experiences pleasure exclusively through you, so he never gets tired of it.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Oh, yes, 100% a fan of toys, all of them meant to drive you utterly insane with pleasure.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
The most unfair and maddeningly patient tease to ever walk this Earth. He will edge you until you’re crying and begging for release - and only then will he CONSIDER to maybe let you cum.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Low growls and muffled moans are the best he can do - although he may use your phone’s speaker to talk dirty to you.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Gabriel really enjoys sucking on and playing with your nipples. And, yes, he has actually made you cum by solely teasing and fondling your chest.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
As I said, he uses a strap-on, which is just the right length and thickness to bring you maximum pleasure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe he consulted with you before buying it.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
I would say his sex drive is medium to low, so unless you initiate it - case in which he will be delighted to take you to the bedroom - he will rarely bring it up. But he does have his moments, when he simply craves your passionate embrace.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends. Sometimes he falls asleep as soon as aftercare has been performed, and sometimes he stays awake a little while longer, just to watch you sleep peacefully by his side.
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