#i finished this at 5am so i wanted to wait til it was a more REASONABLE hour to post skdjhfh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaotic-on-main · 10 months

Note

sky my lovely!!! first off congratulations you absolute sweetie pie!! so deserved and I cant wait to watch you grow more <3

second!! im sliding a $5 across the ice cream truck counter very suavely to order a pralines and cream with hot fudge (my absolute favorite!!) I'm thinking awkward unspoken feelings friends to lovers type thing?? like how long can we ignore that we woke up in each others arms??? AGH okay I love you mwah mwah thank you

Order up!! One pralines and cream with hot fudge for Mars!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event

☾ Pairings ➼ Megumi Fushiguro x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, expletives, one bed, friends to lovers (almost), modern au

☾ Author's Note ➼ Hi Mars!! Thank you so much for sending in a request! I may be a Levi girly, but I gotta admit I had a lot of fun writing this. I definitely did not start this at 2am and decided to stay up til 5am to finish it. I'm queueing this up though, worry not. Also I realized last minute you might have wanted more of the aftermath of waking up in each other's arms so if you would like a second part to this, please let me know?? I wouldn't mind, as I have something in mind that could work. But if I had continued, it would have easily been over 5k words and I need to work on other requests LMAO.

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.2k

It would figure with your shitty track record, everything and their mother would do anything in their power to stop you from reaching your destination – your hometown. Due to traffic, multiple car wrecks, and now what felt like the heaviest thunderstorm known to man – you find yourself sitting behind the wheel 9 hours into what should have been a 7 hour drive. And according to the GPS display on the dash, you’re still a couple hours away from where you’re supposed to be.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the steering wheel in distress. The rain comes down in sheets, making the wipers work overtime just to give you a few seconds glimpse at the road ahead. You sat in silence because you had turned the radio off a few miles back so you could focus. A cough to your right startles you and it takes everything within you to not swerve off the road.

“Shit! Megumi, what the fuck.” You hiss, pressing your hand to your chest in a means to calm your beating heart.

“I just coughed, calm down.” Your black haired companion mumbles, rolling his eyes at you. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Well excuse me for trying to keep us alive. If you couldn’t tell, there’s a lot of shit happening outside.” You scowl. In your high-strung concentration, you completely forgot about your best friend sitting in the passenger seat. He’s the whole reason why you’re even going back home in the first place.

One of his friends from high school is getting married back in the hometown where you all grew up. You knew of this friend by association, but that was it. You didn’t even know Megumi back then, even though you went to the same school as him. You had actually met him at the local community college before both getting opportunities in the same city post-graduation. Now that you think back on it, Megumi has been your roommate for as long as you remember.

Maybe that’s why you felt the need to help him when his car decided to take a shit, offering to drive him at the very last minute. You suppose you could have let him just borrow your car, but you were persistent to drive him yourself. You told yourself it was to make sure your car got there and back in one piece. Part of you tells yourself you’re a liar.

Megumi calls your name.

“What?” You squint your eyes, as if that would help you see what was out the blurry windshield.

“Let’s just pull off and get a motel somewhere. This storm is not letting up and it’s already so late. You need a break.”

“I promised to get you there. So I’m doing that.” You frown at the possibility of failing him.

“You’re not breaking that promise by pulling off for the night. We’ll just get up early tomorrow and head straight there.” Megumi insists.

“We’re only a cou-“

“Pull off on the next exit or I’m grabbing the steering wheel from you.” He cuts in wryly.

“Then we’d both be dead, is that what you want?” He doesn’t say anything to that. When you take a second to glance over, you’re met with a slight scowl.

“Ugh, FINE.” You get into the left lane and slow down, waiting for the next exit to come up.

Fortunately for you two, there are plenty of places to stay in the little area you pull off into. Unfortunately, every place you call has no vacancies due to this time of year except for a dinky little motel way down the road. It wasn’t your first choice, and you had even offered to drive down to the next exit to find something else. Megumi points out the next exit wasn’t for another 30 miles, so the dinky little motel it was.

“If I get murdered in my sleep, I want you to know it was all your fault.” You mutter to Megumi as you rip open the office door, dripping wet from just a few seconds of being out in the pouring rain.

“You can stay in the car then. It’ll save you money.” He mumbles back quietly.

“Pft, whatever.” You turn your focus to the clerk sitting at the front desk, currently blowing bubbles with chewing gum and scrolling through her smartphone. She doesn’t look up.

“Uh- excuse me?” You call out. She still doesn’t acknowledge you or your friend.

Megumi goes up to the counter and slaps a hand down onto the linoleum covered counter. The clerk jumps up, eyes wide in shock. It takes a moment for her to register there are two customers waiting for her.

“Can I help you?” She says, her tone drenched with boredom.

“Yeah, two rooms please.” Megumi says, holding up two fingers – his ring and pinky.

“Let me see.” The clerk says. She puts her phone down to click around the computer in front of her. She types a few things in, clicks around, then flickers her eyes above the screen to the two of you.

“We only have one room left.” Her monotonous voice was really starting to grate at you.

“Does it at least have two beds?” You ask, annoyance slipping into your voice.

You’re met with a shrug and a pop of bubble gum. You take a step forward, feeling the heat of your frustration simmering. Megumi holds his arm out across your chest and holds you back.

“We’ll take it, thanks.” With that, Megumi pays for it and is handed the keys in turn.

“Check out is 11am. Thanks for staying with us, or whatever.” The lady says, waving her hands dismissively before going back to her phone. If you weren’t so drained, you would have thrown yourself over the counter at her. Maybe it was due to being so drained that you were thinking of doing something so feral. Instead, you take a deep breath and follow Megumi out the door.

The rain still comes down in sheets as you and Megumi rush to grab the bags from the trunk and book it up to the second floor where the room you were staying in lies. Much to your ever growing irritation, the motel in question is one of those that have the open walkways, only the guardrail and overhang serving as protection. Not like it matters anyways, because the rain starts blowing at an angle and pelts you in the face as you struggle to make it to the room.

Your boiling pot of anger threatens to spill over when you stumble into the room behind Megumi to find that there weren't two beds – in fact there was only one. The smallest queen you had ever seen. In the grimiest looking motel room you have ever seen. Dropping your bag to the floor, you groan in frustration.

“That lady sucks.” You rub your face with both hands, pulling your cheeks down and staring over to Megumi. He’s grabbing some extra blankets and a pillow from the storage closet by the bathroom. “What are you doing, ‘Gumi?”

“Getting my spot on the floor ready.” He mutters without looking over to you. After tossing the bedspread onto the floor, he heads to the bathroom. You bound over to him quickly, only to have the door shut in your face.

“Like hell you will. Take the bed, I’ll get the floor.” You shout over the hardwood. He doesn’t respond. Instead of being a normal person who would just wait over the by the bed, you slam your fists into the door.

“You’ve been driving all day. You deserve the bed more than me.” You hear him say, muffled. You stare at the faded, thin carpet under your feet. It’s a dark burgundy, littered randomly with even darker spots. Perhaps it had been a bright red at one point?

“That floor looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the 90s. Why don’t we just…” You trail off as Megumi opens the door, coming face to face with you. He wasn’t expecting you to be so close. You notice he had changed into dry pajamas, though you’re not sure how he did it so quickly. Nor did you see him bring clothes in with him. You must be really tired.

“Why don’t we just what?” A black eyebrow raises at you in curiosity.

“..Just share the bed.” You mumble under your breath. Turning on your heel, you head over to the side of the bed closest to the wall.

“Do what?” Megumi follows you, frowning slightly. He hadn’t heard you.

“Share the bed.” You say louder, not looking his way. In all the years you both had been roommates, sharing a bed was something that had never come up. It wasn’t needed, for obvious reasons.

“I mean, if that’s okay with you.” He replies back coolly. Your eyes snap up to his, and notice he’s watching you anxiously despite his tone.

“We don’t have to. It was just a suggestion.” You raise your hands up in defense, puffing your cheeks out.

“No, I think it’s the smartest choice we have.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Postive?”

“Just go change into dry clothes, dummy.” He rolls his eyes and walks past to his side of the bed. You trill your lips as you push yourself off the bed and into the bathroom after grabbing a pair of pajamas out of your small bag.

You find yourself on your side facing the wall about 10 minutes later. Megumi is tucked under the covers behind you, facing the window you suspect. It’s quiet bar for the ticking of the analog clock on the wall above the tv by the front door. Before getting into bed, he had made sure to lock every lock available to him.

‘Triple reassurance.’ He had said.

You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. That thought from earlier today about why you were so insistent on driving him surfaces to the top of your mind. You turn your head to where Megumi currently lies, his back to you confirming your assumption from before. His black hair pools around his pillow. You think you’re the only person who has ever seen his hair down from his normal spiky style.

“’Gumi?” You whisper over to him. You’re met with silence, which means he must have fallen asleep. Exhausted from the drive today, sleep comes to you just as easily. Your last thought before falling into pitch black nothingness is Megumi's stupidly cute smile.

When you wake, you don’t open your eyes right away. You can already tell the sun must be up by the way your eyelids tint pink. Your eyes flutter open and you blink hard a few times to reorient yourself. An ugly navy striped wallpaper glares back at you. Where were you?

You take a second to think. That’s right, you and Megumi had stopped at a motel last night to shelter from the storm for the evening. A small gust of air blows down your neck and it takes everything in you to not jump up and out of bed. Something cinches over your waist and pulls you close and your eyes widen. Wait, Megumi.

Carefully, you slide your hand down to what was around your waist and a breath hitches in your throat. It’s an arm, and not just any arm. It belongs to Megumi – solely based off the fact he was the only one in the bed with you.

By the depth of his breaths, you can tell he’s still sleeping. Good, you think to yourself. Maybe you can move his arm off you gently and not wake him. However, when you go to wrap your fingers around his wrist, he digs his face into your hair and sighs softly. He’s pulling you in closer too, and this is where you’re drawing the line.

“U-uh Megumi.” You say. Your voice is crackly with the lack of moisture.

His breathing steadies out, and suddenly you feel him stiffen up behind you. Slowly, he pulls away and the sadness that comes with the absence of his body heat hits faster than you would have cared to admit.

“S-Sorry.” He mutters behind you, his own voice thick with sleep.

“No, it’s okay.” You squeak out. Pulling yourself out of the covers, you grab your bag and practically run to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

You don’t come out for another 30 minutes, deciding to take a quick shower to calm yourself down. A few mental arguments later, you feel you can face him. This needed to be talked about. You wanted to talk about it. You take a deep breath and throw the bathroom door open. When you walk out, however, you see Megumi dressed and ready to go by the door, his bag in hand.

“There you are. Ready to head out? If we leave now, we can make it for the rehearsal lunch.” He looks up from his phone that he must have been scrolling on while waiting.

“I-yeah. Megumi, listen-“ You stop with your mouth open, ready to say what you had rehearsed in the steamed up bathroom mirror. But nothing comes out. Instead, you pinch your lips together and give him a nod. “Yeah. Let’s go."

TBH I don't know of any other JJK moots. So if you see this and wanna be tagged in my next JJK fics, please comment to let me know?? Thank you! (I will tag @romantichomicide95 tho because I know she's a Megumi girly)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x gn!reader #megumi fushiguro x gn!reader #modern au #fluff #one bed #sky's summer event #ice cream order: pralines and cream with hot fudge

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simshousewindsor · 6 months

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NOBLE RELATIONS

[Stafford-Myers Ranch, San Myshuno 9:33 AM WST]

Lord Henry Myers [4th Earl of Stafford]: "Mia, sit down and finish your food!"

Mia Myers: "I just want to see. They should have been here already!"

Lord Henry: "Starring won't make them get here faster."

Mia: She's here! She's here! The Queen is here!

Lord Henry: Mia!

Mia: I'm just so excited! The Queen is at OUR ranch!

Jacob: She's been like this since 5am, dad!

Barry: (laughs) ...and Mia never wakes up at 5am!

Barry: This IS a big deal.

Lord Henry: "I know, son. I know. Whenever the monarch visits a noble family they usually want something."

Jacob: (hesitant) Maybe she just wants to know us. We own the largest ranch and land in the country. You're the freakin earl of Stafford! I'm the next one.

Lord Henry: Welcome to Stafford Ranch, Your Majesty!

Queen Katherine: Lord Henry! It's so great to finally meet you. I've heard such great things about all you've done for San Myshuno, and your horses are legendary!

Lord Henry: (bowing) Thank you, ma'am.

Queen Katherine: It's a surprise our paths never crossed.

Lord Henry: The Ranch keeps me quite busy. Day or night, I'm here. It's not too often the sovereign visits our ranch.

Queen Katherine: You've had a visit before?

Lord Henry: Your grandfather. Edward II.

Queen Katherine: Who is this young lady?

Mia: Hi, Your Majesty! My name is Mia. I'm 7!

Queen Katherine: It's lovely to meet you, Mia.

Lord Henry: She's the princess of the ranch!

Lord Henry: "These are my sons. Jacob is 16 and Barry is 15."

Barry: Welcome to Stafford, Your Majesty!

Lord Henry: Let's give you a tour of the barn and bunkhouse first! I hear you're quite the equestrian so you'll love the new Stallion we just purchased.

Queen Katherine: I can't wait!

Lord Henry: Jacob, saddle two horses for after. I'll need to change clothes. It's going to be a scorcher!

- - - - - LATER - - - - -

[Stafford-Myers Ranch Eastern Grounds 11:56 AM WST]

Queen Katherine: I thought you said you were a cowboy? Is that as fast as you can ride?

Lord Henry: (laughs) I'm being courteous, Your Majesty.

Queen Katherine: Gracious, I see.

Queen Katherine: I'll slow down a bit.

Lord Henry: You are quite the competitor!

Queen Katherine: With this much open acreage, why not!

Queen Katherine: You have a beautiful ranch, Lord Henry. I've seen the Stafford Mountains as I've flown over San Myshuno but to see them like this, on horseback, is truly breathtaking.

Lord Henry: Thank you. Five generations of my family have ranched and owned all 318,000 acres, and it has been under constant threat by land developers, casino moguls, and more.

Queen Katherine: Are there others that live on the land?

Lord Henry: We are the sole residents of the ranch along with the workers and hired hands who protect and improve the ranch. We herd around 14,000 cattle.

Queen Katherine: Look! A baby goat!

Lord Henry: Let's dismount here for a moment.

Queen Katherine: Horses are so majestic. They are great senses of character. Beautiful creatures!

Lord Henry: They are, indeed! Challenging to break but loyal til death. I've had Askia, your horse, since I was a boy. This is my oldest sons [Jacob] horse, Kentucky.

Queen Katherine: I only have one horse but she needs a sibling.

Lord Henry: I hope I'm not being too forward in asking about the nature of your visit today. In Five generations, you're the second monarch to ever visit Stafford Ranch. Your grandfather, I was told, only came to purchase a Stallion and had no interest in the land, his land!

Queen Katherine: I must apologize. The Myers' are one of only five noble families left in Windenburg. Yes, history has shown that the Royal Family only comes to each of you in times of need, but I'd like to change that.

Queen Katherine: During my reign, I want to build an even stronger Windenburg. To do that I must build better relationships with every noble family. The royal family brings awareness to many charities but we should be working together to do more. I'd like to reinstate The Royal Court, with monthly audiences to assist the Royal Family.

Lord Henry: Your visit today has shown that you are trustworthy. I was expecting there to be security everywhere and you to be far more stuffy. I respect you, Your Majesty. You have my support!

Lord Henry: What I've seen this morning, you'll be a great Queen for Windenburg! Now, let's head back to the ranch.

Queen Katherine: (charmed) Thank you, Lord Henry!

Lord Henry: Plus, my daughter already thinks you're the greatest queen ever and she rules the Myers household!

Lord Henry: (to horse) Come on, Askia. We're going to race the Queen home!

Queen Katherine: (laughs) No-one challenges the Queen and wins, Lord Henry!

Lord Henry: (kicks) YAH!!

(horse neighing)

Previous | Beginning | Next

#simshousewindsor #simshousewindsor ts4 #ts4 royalty #simshousewindsor royalty #simblr #simshousewindsor simblr #simshousewindsor story #simshousewindsor monarchy #sims 4 monarchy #ts4 story #the sims 4 story #the sims 4 royalty

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heartfucksmouth · 5 months

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guys I did it

I survived a full day of being a parent WITHOUT A NAP. Aidan slept through the night in bed with me and myles, he woke up at 5am and it's 845pm and I survived the day, I didn't even lose my temper or have a meltdown or sensory overload (it is like 30 degrees out and I'm still sweaty all the time why) and Myles didn't get out of work til 11 (he's working 1am-11a ugh peak season for holidays).

sure, I got a little stressed and my brain was going in a hundred directions at once, but I GOT STUFF DONE. I DIDNT NEED A NAP (I mean, I did, I always ~need a nap, but I managed without one!) holy shit never thought it would happen. I told myles I feel insane bc I was so so sad last night but today I've been such goofy weirdo and laughing at everything. maybe the sleepy-delirium is good for me lmao

~let me list my accomplishments for the day please

•I got all our laundry out of the dryer (myles folded it later)

•I put in a load of Aidan's laundry

•made coffee and a peanut butter + jelly sandwich for breakfast lmao and a pitcher of formula for the day

•I chopped up apple and banana to put in the little mesh fruit feeder things and froze them for his teething pains. he's doing okay on the chamomile tea right now but I can't wait to use the camilia again cuz it's concentrated and I won't feel like I'm filling his belly up on tea water

• did dishes and washed Ade's bottles

• I packed up a lingerie set that I sold on depop, added some cute little surprise gifts, wrote a quick thank you card and dropped it at the post office while Myles hung with Aidan.

• While Myles had Aidan, I also sorted through my stuff that's in boxes from when I moved here, repacked some things, and got almost all my boxes onto the shelving unit in the basement. it makes me sad that I have so much cool stuff and can't display it or be my full self and feel at home.

•I took care of the dogs too, made puzzles for Zaiyah and made sure Bear wasn't licking his surgical incision - he is SO STRONG, he even tried to chase a rabbit today. crazy fucker, it's been like 3 days since you had half your shoulder muscle removed. gave lots of pets and sweet words bc they are the best dogs.

•I got little dude to nap while Myles worked out and we finished Squid Game The Challenge (minus the finale in December) and he slept for 3 frickin hours. I also deleted a million photos that were taking up all my phone storage.

•and finally I had Ade hang in his crib to wind down, while I took some photos for depop and packed a box to donate to savers tomorrow

Editing to add that I still managed to tell Myles I love him and get some good kisses and quick cuddles and man, I just really appreciate our relationship. we're insane for having a child after a year of being together - but... are we that insane? our relationship just keeps growing and getting better and feeling more solid. it's incredible. seeing him be a Dad makes me love him even more and I find him even more attractive. I used to think I was lucky in my last relationship (and people told us they were jealous) but no. no no. I was settling for less than i deserved back then (lessons lessons) this, is it. this is the relationship to thank the universe for blessing me with it.

and that's all in between bottles, diaper changes, soothing crying, playing, tummy time, crawling practice, lots of spit ups, dancing and making him laugh.

I ALSO TOOK THE CUTEST PHOTOS OF HIM WEARING A STAR WARS GROGU SWEATER AAAHHH

hope you get the idea even though I'm keeping half his face anonymous lol I just don't want photos of my kid floating around the internet - unless where I can control it. his grandparents are ridiculous with posting his photos and I can only hope they have private profiles (I keep meaning to ask)

also if we are mutuals and talk, you probably have seen photos of him. but if you haven't, you can surely ask :) he's the kind of cute where you wanna scream and it lights up your day lol not to brag, I'm still in awe I created such a beautiful human.

anyways I'm really fucking proud of myself right now. I won't always feel this way or have days like this, so I'm gonna yell about it while I feel good.

ps I STILL need to shower. the one thing I didn't manage to do. tomorrow is the day bc my mom is coming to watch Aidan for a few hours and im gonna shower and faceplant in my bed for a nap before doing my errand. I cannot wait to shower lol being a new mom is truly wild

also the way I'm writing this must sound truly manic/adhd brain and y'all just have to deal, this is who I am now.

#personal #post partum #almost 6 months!#momblr

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ironhusband · 3 years

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“Did you like the play?” Rhodey asked, thumb brushing over Tony’s hand.

Tony swiped his pinkie across the side of Rhodey’s hand in return, and hesitated before answering, “it was good.”

Rhodey hummed, threading their fingers together, “your snores said otherwise.”

Tony laughed warmly at Rhodey’s tease, “there was no snoring!”

“There was yawning.”

“I’m not allowed to yawn?”

“You’re allowed to yawn, it just means you thought the play was boring.”

Tony raised one hand in surrender, that damn charming smile on his face, “you caught me, officer, I admit to the felony of yawning.”

“I don’t get it,” Rhodey shook his head in amusement, “it wasn’t that bad of a play.”

“Every play is bad to me,” Tony shrugged.

“You’re so cynical.”

“Just telling it straight, babe.”

“Well, maybe you should start telling it gay because you’ll be missing out on some things in life.”

Tony snorted, smiling softer this time, the smile reserved for Rhodey, “that was a horrible pun. But I’ll play - what things will I be missing out on?”

Rhodey paused and thought at that question, “like... like the high of just finishing an invention with a friend and the jittery feeling when you go on a date with your boyfriend.”

Tony melted at that, eyes twinkling with adoration, “you’re sappy today.” He squeezed Rhodey’s hand before looking around, spotting something. When his eyes found what he was looking for, they sparkled, Tony getting that look he always had when he was up to no good.

Rhodey’s heart swooped at the thrill but his brain thought, “oh no” - proving once more that his mind knew Tony was a bad idea but his body never seemed to listen.

“I’ll be missing out on the felling of getting ice cream and licking it off your lips?” Tony suggested.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “we’re going to get ice cream?”

“Do you want ice cream?”

“Ice cream sounds great,” Rhodey frowned at how low-key it was, however, confused at what the look could then mean, “but you seem-”

“Then ice cream it is!” Tony grabbed Rhodey’s hand and pulled him towards one of the buildings.

Rhodey let himself be pulled with a surprised chuckle, “Tones, slow down!”

“Slow down you die, platypus,” Tonys smirked at him as they reached the back door and pulled out a key.

Rhodey stared at the key, “well, you get caught breaking and entering, you also kind of die.”

Tony rolled his eyes at Rhodey worrying and shoved the door backwards, shoving Rhodey with inside too.

The door clicked shut behind them - “Tony, what are we doing?” Rhodey hissed in the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he blinked as realizing they were in the dining hall.

“We’re getting ice cream,” Tony spread his arms at the buffet, exhibiting where they are.

Rhodey was stunned. Every single time he thought Tony couldn’t surprise him - he went ahead and did it. “How do you have a key to the dining hall?” he asked, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how stupid they were. He was Tony Stark, that’s how.

“I know a lot of very powerful locksmiths,” Tony said ominously.

“Tony, we could get expelled for this,” Rhodey tugged nervously at the sleeves of his shirt.

Tony’s expression morphed into one that was designed to relax Rhodey and he placed his arms around his neck and massaged his nape, “hey, relax. Look around. For tonight’s it’s all yours. Besides, you know me -” he kissed Rhodey just under his eye, “ - I wouldn’t let us get caught.”

Rhodey felt the tension leave his body at the physical display of affection, but more so because of Tony’s promise. He looked around as Tony said at the collection of cereals. “It is kind of cool,” he admitted.

Tony grinned, happy to see Rhodey’s small smile, “wait ‘til you see the kitchen.”

Rhodey let himself out of Tony’s hold, holding his hand instead. He walked towards the cereal station, “I’ve never been here early enough to see it completely full.” His eyes got wider at one of the options, “ha! Told you they had Cocoa Puffs.”

“So, what, I should stop buying them for us?”

Rhodey scoffed, “only if you wake up at 5AM to get me some.”

“Get yourself some.”

“No. See, that’s why we buy them-”

“No, I mean,” Tony chuckled and showed him the bowl he was holding out, “get yourself some.”

Rhodey cocked his head to the side in question, an expression made to tease Tony, “weren't we getting ice cream?”

“We can get both. We can get anything you want.”

Rhodey’s head got dizzy with Tony’s unusually romantic decoration. It wasn't often that he made such declarations. Tony’s love language was usually this - breaking in to a cafeteria for Rhodey. So, used to something different than their banter, he naturally had to ruin it, “I want you to take care of yourself.”

“...Almost anything you want.”

Rhodey snorted. He got himself a bowl and as the cereal rolled into the bowl with a loud clattering sound, Rhodey got a thrill he came to associate with Tony. As he munched on his Cocoa Puffs, the ones his mother always complained about the amount of sugar in, he smiled, thinking about what she would have told him if she saw him now. “You’re corrupting me,” he noted, eyes wandering.

Tony beamed, “and you’re enjoying it.” Then he paused as he tracked Rhodey’s gaze, “you looking for something?”

“Yeah, the register. Wanna pay for this.”

Tony glared at him, “You serious?”

Rhodey shrugged, “the school pays for this, Tony.”

“Honey, believe me - with the amount of money my parents are paying to this school, they have a few Cocoa Puffs to spare.”

“The ice cream means they lose of money, though,” Rhodey joked.

Tony sighed, “I love that you’re such a goody two shoes. Forget the register, let’s go get your ice cream.”

“’Kay.”

Rhodey let himself be pulled away by Tony-

but at the last minute he threw the few dollars he had in his pockets into the cereal station.

“Rhodey, c’mon!”

“I’m coming!”

#Ironhusbands #rhodeytony #druwrites #tony stark #james rhodes #rhodey #james rhodey rhodes #rhodeytony fic #ironhusbands fic #tonyrhodey #rhfe #MIT era #iron husbands #Iron Man #war machine #iron patriot #scene almost plagiarized from Gilmore Girls #thinking of starting a series -#Tony and rhodey as Logan and rory

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

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Undercover - Chapter 9

Chapter Selection

I was awakened by Hotch's alarm. I turn around and reach for his phone to turn it off. My headache pounding. It had only been a few hours since we drank. Honestly I was still a little drunk.

I collapse on him waking him up. "Ughh", I mumble into the crook of his neck. "What is it", That was a dumbass question he knows I'm not a morning person. "Do you really have to ask me that."

He chuckles, "Yes how would you feel if we took a shower. The hot water would be nice."

I get up and walk into the bathroom and turn on the water. As I'm waiting for the water to heat up I brush my teeth. I feel hands around my waist and lips on my collarbone.

I look into the mirror and he's standing behind me looking hot even when he first wakes up.

His head rests on my shoulder then I tug at his hand to get into the shower. I turn him into the water first, he needs it more. I put shampoo into his hair and massage it in.

"You're good at that", I giggle and then wash it out. "Your turn", he turns me around and washes me.

We step out of the shower and into the bedroom and I shiver. "Here wear this", He tosses me one of his hoodies. I put it on and I'm met with the smell of mint.

He gets dressed first and leaves while I get ready. I finish up and walk into the kitchen where he's making breakfast. "Whatcha making?"

"Pancakes, eggs, and sausage patties. We have a long day ahead of us and this might be the only thing we eat for a while."

"True, did you start the coffee already." He hands me a cup answering my question.

We talked for a while til we had to leave at 5am for the strip.

_____________________

When we got there it was 5:45am and Aaron told the pilot that we could leave. The team would be heading down later in the day. I sat on the couch my head resting against the wall. My legs in Aarons lap his hand writing his name up and down my leg.

"When we get there remember we don't have to hide from the team." The thought brought a smile to my face even though I still didn't want them to know.

"When we get there, my ass is slamming onto the bed and taken a fucking nap." Aaron chuckled and agreed.

The rest of the fight were spent with small naps and causal conversation.

We arrived in New York at 7am and it wasn't as busy as it usually is. There was a car waiting for us when we got out the airport and they drove us to the Penthouse.

Through the street we saw the luxurious building we were staying at. It was 30 stories and our place had two floors. The driver dropped us off and we walked in.

I put my hand in his and continued walking through the lobby. It had black and white marble floors, a mirror ceiling, gold pillars on the sides with a red carpet going down the center leading to the elevator.

We walk to the man behind the desk, "Amelia Perez." The man behind the desk began typing into his computer. "You're on the top floor, here's the key card. You need this to use the elevator; It only works for your floor."

"Thank you, have a nice day." I say while walking away, "You too."

He gives us a smile as we walk into the elevator. The floor numbers slowly rising as we got closer.The doors open and I'm in awe. There are hardwood floors, white walls, a chandelier greeting you once you enter.

Their was a very large balcony with huge glass doors that led outside. With leather sofas and fire pit in center.

In the living room; white couches, a fire place in front, and one wall is solely for a window. The window extends into the kitchen giving a full view of the city.

There was a clear view of everything. The sun still rising lighting up the sky with virous colors.

The stairs start from the entrance and go up a wall and the loft extends to the kitchen as well. There is a skylight pointing directly into the living room and another one in the kitchen.

The loft has a queen size bed, a couch on one wall and a 60 inch tv on the other. The bathroom is black with a single shower and a jacuzzi bathtub. I'm definitely using that later.

I'm laying down on the couch when I smell something. "What do I smell!", I yell across the room.

"I'm making food", he yells. "What kind of food, its smells so fucking good"

"You'll have to see", I didn't wanna get up but I do. Picking myself up off the couch.

I walk into the kitchen and I see tomatoes, eggs, flour, basil. I see him rolling out a dough and making an alfredo sauce with chicken. I gasp; he looks at me and chuckles. "Chicken alfredo?"

He nodded continuing to roll the dough out.

"Are you making your own noodles?"

"Yes I am." I take a seat on the bar stool watching him. "Well you're just full of surprises aren't you."

He looks at me and smiles, "You have no idea." I walk behind him and wrap my hand around his waist and kiss his neck. He turns around and nips my cheek.

He finally finishes dinner and we eat. I got a huge bowl almost eating all of it.

It's 10am when I walk back upstairs and collapse on the bed, falling asleep. I toss and turn until Aaron walks into the room. "Cant sleep?", I groan in response. He sets an alarm for 4:30pm.

He climbs into bed next to me and pulls me close, his arm snakes around me. I nestle my head into his chest and take a deep breath taking in the smell of his cologne.

He kisses the top of my head. I feel his warmth and it makes me relaxed. I fall asleep to the sound of his heart beating. Aaron falls asleep to the sound of my steady breathing.

*beep*beep*beep*beep*

I grumble, "Shut that shit off." Aaron turns off the alarm. "We gotta get up, party is at 6", he says as he nudges me. "Fine", I get up and start getting ready.

I look through the closet and find a red dress that reaches my calves with a slit up the side that stops at my mid thigh and a pair of red 2 inch heels.

I throw them on and start to curl my hair loosely. Doing my makeup with a stubble red color lipstick, black eyeliner, and putting on false eyelashes. I get ready in an hour.

I take a step forward walking down the stairs and Aaron looks at me in awe.

His mouth opens a little, "You look amazing."

"Thank you, you look great." I say with a smirk. He has his hair set back, wearing a black tuxedo with a bow tie, and black dress shoes.

He adjusts the Rolex on his wrist. "Take this", he hands me an ear piece to wear for communicating with the rest of the team. "Can you guys hear me?", I ask hoping it works.

"Yeah we can", the whole team responds. We walk to the door, I put my hands on his bicep going into the elevator.

When we get outside he opens the limo door for me and I climb in with him.

"Where too"

"172 Madison Avenue."

The ride was quiet until Aaron spoke up, "Remember when we get there I'm Christopher Harris, and your Amelia Perez." I nod my head and that's when we get to the party..

The driver stops the car, "Thank you." We smile at the driver.

Hotch opens the door for me and helps me walk out. I grab his hand and he walks me through the lobby. I am approached by the man at the front desk. "Here for the Stalone?"

"Yes sir and which floor is it on?"

"Top floor."

I press the top floor and we ride up. The doors open and I notice all the people. He guides me through the crowd, they're all dressed in gowns and suits.

"Let me guess the bar", I nod eagerly at his words. We get to the bar and he orders us a drink not asking me what I wanted.

"Do any of you have your eyes on Carmine." I feel a nudge on my right and its Hotch handing me a vodka and coke.

"How'd you know my drink"

"Lucky guess."

He says while sipping on his scotch. I'm enjoying my conversation while scanning the room searching for Carmine.

"We have eyes", JJ says into the earpiece. I smile through my words, "Where."

"Outside in the gazebo, hes guarded by 2 people. You're gonna have to get his attention if you wanna talk to him." Morgan states.

"Well that's just great isn't it, ok follow my lead." I say tugging on Aarons arm.

__________________

I went outside and noticed Carmine was sitting with a few girls and he had two bodyguards in the front.

Hotch was walking behind me when I pushed him back, "Don't fucking touch me asshole." I said loud enough for Carmine to hear; Aaron quickly realized what I was doing.

"Amelia don't be that way come on give me one more chance and if I mess up again I'll leave you alone", I saw Carmine start to stare at me from the corner of my eye.

"Fine but talk to me or do that bullshit again and you'll find yourself in the ground." I said sternly and I flipped him off. "Leave me alone, we'll talk later", I walked to the ledge and looked at the skyline.

Hearing footsteps behind me I turned my head slightly. Got you dumbass. "I noticed the commotion a little while ago, you okay sweetheart?"

I felt his cold hand on my back. I started to cry, having a tear in my eye when I looked at him. "Yeah I'm okay just pissed off at him. He had the audacity to do that to me, I deserve better."

"Yeah you do. How about you come and sit with me so we can talk a few things over."

Carmine looks at my neck easily knowing the necklace I'm wearing is worth a few 100 thousand. He sits me down, "After that whole thing, do you have a place you can stay or are you gonna go back home with that asshole."

"I'll probably go back with him, he might be a dick but he's my boyfriend and it's our place. I'm not gonna leave after one fight."

"So what do you do for a living."

"I do off shore business." Throwing him a smirk, "If you don't mind my asking. What kind of offshore business."

"I more or less invest in some privately owned places that do... certain things." He smiles at me while talking into my eyes. The feeling unsettles me making my skin crawl.

He gets up and puts out his hand and looks at me. I grab his hand, "Let's talk about this in private. You can call your boyfriend after we chat", Carmine says with a smirk.

Rossi walks over to Hotch who is sitting at the bar. "Do you see y/n?"

"She was with Carmine outside, they were talking that's all I saw." Morgan looks around from the dance floor with Emily, "We don't see her, she's not outside neither is Carmine."

Rossi talks into the earpiece, "Garcia I need you to hack the cameras find her now." Garcia searches most of the cameras when she sees me for a few seconds.

"Second floor far right corner, they're going into a room."

"Can you get eyes in there", Garcia says no.

I walk into the room following Carmine, he takes a seat on the couch; points telling me to sit.

"Now I assume you know what my family does for a living", he waits for my answer.

"I do", he looks at me sternly.

"How would you like to make some money and invest a little bit", he asks me. I'm just happy he got straight to the point. Maybe this will be over with quicker than I thought.

"One how much would you like, two maybe i'll think about it", I shrug and look away.

He had curiosity written all over his face. He speaks up, "I'll give you a call, see how you feel about the arrangement."

I give him my number, then tells me I could leave. I stand up and walk out through the door and try to find Hotch.

Garcia spots me on the camera, "She's back and walking towards you Hotch." I see him looking around trying to find me. "Miss me", I walk up to him.

He looks at me and his face relaxes and he exhales deeply, "Mmm maybe a little". We smile at the comment and he puts a hand on my waist and grabs my hand. "Wanna dance?"

"I'm not the dancing type"

"Well you are tonight." He pulls me to the dance floor. "What'd he say to you in there"

"Just that we could invest in his little company you know the usual."

I hear JJ over the mic, "Well that was fast how'd you get him to talk."

"What can I say? I'm very persuasive", I smirk. Aaron looks into my eyes and turns off our mics.

"What are you doing", he doesn't say anything. He leans into my ear and whispers. "You were a good girl today maybe I might give you a reward."

My face turns red at the words and he pulls away to look at my reaction. I don't say anything but I give him a kiss on the cheek and I turn the mics back on.

"Ok babe I'm tired, what do you say we go home", I grab his hand and guide him to the elevator and leave. "You guys stay, behind to track his movements, we are gonna go."

The team says ok and we get into the car and head back to the penthouse. During the drive we don't say anything. He slides his hand up my leg and places his hand on my thigh.

I shift a bit and my breathing hitches. He notices and gives my thigh and squeeze then slides in higher up.

I close my eyes and put my head back against the seat. I felt a sudden cold spot on my leg when I opened my eyes he removed his hand and went to open the door. "Were here", he walked over to my side and guided me out of the car and into the building.

In the elevator I grab his hand and our fingers intertwine. He smiles but doesnt look at me.

The doors open and I walk straight upstairs, he goes to follow behind me but I stop him, "You know baby I would really love to fuck but honestly I'm tried."

He looks at me and chuckles, "Ok princess." He turns around and goes downstairs. I sit on the bed and take off the dress and place it back into the closet.

I go to take off my bra and there's a sudden relief. I turn on the shower and I smell food but I ignore it. I wash my hair, body, and brush my teeth.

When I get out of the shower I see the time I was in there for over half an hour. I put on a tight white crop top and some red and black shorts.

Going down the stairs I noticed Aaron had changed also into some striped pajama pants, he didn't have a shirt on.

My eyes locked onto his body and I looked him up and down, when my eyes met his there was a smile on his face.

"Enjoying something", He was holding back a laugh. "Nope nothing, did you make food?"

I walked over to the couch and turned on a movie. "I did but that's gone now sorry did you want something."

My stomach grumbled but I wasn't too hungry.

"Yeah can you get some wine, please and thank you." He walked into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses and poured some wine and gave me a glass.

"You're welcome", He sat down next to me but I put my legs on his and we started to watch the movie.

The wine was gone now and we're both a little tipsy. Gradually he would shift on the couch like he was uncomfortable. I nudged him, "Come here." I pulled him up and I opened my legs so he was lying in between them.

He was moving so his arms were wrapped around my torso and his head was on my chest listening to my breathing. "Better?", he looked at me and hummed

I brought my hands up and put them on his head and started to stroke his hair. His hair was soft and smelled like coconut.

I noticed he had closed his eyes and was sleeping so I turned off the movie and decided to not wake him up. I set up an alarm and went to sleep.

I wake to the sound of my alarm; Aaron still laying down on my chest. His breathing is steady, I wrap my arms around him and just hold him. He wakes, sits up, and goes to the bathroom.

"Well good morning to you too I guess", I mutter but he doesn't hear me.

My phone starts to ring, "Hey y/n, he already has your number so now we just wait for him to call you guys. You have the day off I guess." JJ said over the phone. I look over at the kitchen and my stomach growls.

"Ok thanks for the update." From there I hang up the phone and yell out to Aaron

"Yo!", I don't hear him answer so I yell again. "What!", He finally calls back.

"We have the day off, did you wanna go out or stay in!?", he yells to stay in.

He walks out of the bathroom and into the kitchen for some water. I walk over and sit on one of the stools.

"So Mr. Chef what's in store today?", his eyes shift over to mine and he chuckles.

"Well I was thinking something simple like", he pulls out a box of mac and cheese from the cabinet and places it on the counter.

His phone starts to ring and he steps out of the room.

I hear shuffling and whisper yelling. I walk over to the door but I don't open it. I hear a quiet stuttering. Then he ends the call and Aaron starts to walk back towards the door.

______________________________

@mac99martin @appleblossoms-posts @oreogutz @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @marie1115

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x y/n #hotchner x reader #hotch smut #ssa hotchner #fanfiction #criminal minds #smut #hotchner

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bluecolouredlou · 3 years

Note

Planner : What is your favourite plotting method and why?

Pantser : Tell me about a time you wrote something for your WIP on a whim.

Plantser : What is the first thing you do when you start working on a new WIP?

Up with the sun : What is the earliest you’ve ever woken up to write before?

Night owl : Have you ever stayed up til the wee hours of the morning just to keep writing?

Character questionnaire : What is the most important question to answer about your characters?

Not even a last name : What is one thing you’ve never planned for your character?

Gardener : Quick, on the top of your head, give me a first sentence for a (genre,) novel.

Architect : Name the three most important things for you to plan

Aesthetics : Look for three images which best showcase the overall aesthetic for your WIP

Song bird : If you could pick three songs to capture the feel of your WIP, what would they be and why?

Sprint : What is the longest writing session/ most amount of words, you’ve ever written in one day?

Marathon : What are three things you have to have during a writing session?

Overwriter : What is the easiest thing for you to write/ what are your strengths?

Underwriter : What is one area you feel you should focus more on with your writing?

Chronological : Have you ever gotten stuck with a scene? If you have, how do you power through and finish?

Whatever suits your fancy : Beginning, middle or end? Which is your favourite part to write and why?

Typing : What software do you write with?

Handwriting : How many notebooks do you own and which is your favourite?

Location, location : What are your top three (or,) least three favourite places to write and why?

you said you had nothing to do so,,,, im sorry njdghkdk if you dont feel up for it just answer your top 3

nothing to do = I have nothing to do that is really important and that anybody cares about it, so I am just letting it be and am doing other things instead

Anygays...

Planner: Plotting is mostly something where I just do what feels right so literally every time I sit down to plot something it looks different and sometimes I may not even plot anything out... even though that is not so wise

Pantser: In my first zouis fic (for the @zouisfest) I am pantsing it so literally everything is on a whim, which is now also getting me into a bit of trouble. But the one thing that I am thinking about is that I might throw two of the side characters into a relationship, dunno though. Ohhhh and what was definitely on a whim was doing a threesome with Zayn, Gigi and Liam in Sweet Heart, but I've been liking the thought of those three enough to be thinking about a separate fic for them...

Plantser: I just brain dumb everything that I know into a document or something of the sort.

Up with the sun: 5am, no comment

Night Owl: I tried it at least once but it really isn't my thing but I generally don't write much after dinner

Character questionnaire: You guys answer questions about your characters?!?!

Not even a last name: Somebody explain to me what this questions even mean skadkjfska

Gardener: Rae, you never even gave me a a genre but one senence that I really like is: The skies were so grey that the cats started catching mice again

Architect: 1. POV Character 2. detailed plan of how the locations they are at look like (floor plan), bc my head doesn't work without knowing how the layout is 3. Chapter length

Aesthetic: (both are for the @zouisfest ksjdks)

1. Zouis fic (on the Bake Off, just me writing this):

2. Zouis fic (writing with @quelsentiment 👀):

Song Bird: I hate picking songs, but I'm gonna do it for you (you better appreciate this)

1. Zouis fic:

The Great British Bake Off - Tom Howe

The One That Got Away - Katy Perry

Green Feelings - Lorde (mostly just me listening to it while writing)

2. Zouis fic:

Moments - Mindland

Insomnia - Zayn

Renegades - X Ambassadors

Sprint: I think I once made it to 5k which is CRAZY

Marathon: My Laptop, a notebook and some pens

Overwriter: I answered in this asks

Underwriter: Dialouge feels like the one thing I should focus one more

Chronological: Waiting it out for a day or so or just skipping it and filling it in later, which I do a lot of the time

Whatever suits your fancy: The beginning since most of the time this is where I have the most clear vision on what I want to do and I just absolutely HATE endings, I really can't with them

Typing: I am jumping around a bit from time to time and from story to story but mostly just google docs

Handwriting: I have two in use and there are many more I own, I don't even want to count. My two favs are the notebook that I currently plan my days in and a new one that I just bought because the second notebook I am using is about to be full

Location, location: In the summer it's nice to write outside and you would be surprised how comfy it is to write in a Hammock, other than that at my desk and occasionally even in my bed

Here is the place where I would link to all the other questions but since rae already ask everything I don't have anything for you (go and read all my stories that I have on ao3 right now)

#rae you crazy bitch #the editor on my laptop gsve up after the pictures and i had to do the rest on my phone #😭😭😭#answered

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lockdownuk · 4 years

Text

Lockdown Diary Part 6

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 151: Great hour or so last night around Foggy’s. When I got home I watched World War Z and some stand up by Nate Bargatze and drank and smoked loads. Today, I got up just before 2pm and felt soooo unmotivated. I was going to have a day of doing fuck all but had a change of heart around 7pm so did my stair climb then walked for over an hour (7km) and got home at 9:30pm!

Day 152: Typing on day 153. I popped up and saw Foggy last night. One of the reasons was I wanted to take him a beer to say thanks for looking over my mitigation statement for my impending court hearing for speeding. He liked what i wrote but has given me some key amendments. Basically free solictor advice and I am very grateful. While there he hit me with the news that Ham’s sister, Preeya, has died (last Friday 14th August) from Covid 19. To say i was gobsmacked is an understatement. She was 49. The family could only talk to her over a loud speaker and had to say good bye that way as her life support was swithced off. Fucking hell, it’s terrible. And, what makes it worse, is how complacent I have become about the disease while it’s causing so much tragedy. As I said to Foggy, it’s important to renew our efforts in combatting this disease so that Preeya’s death at least means we learn. I also feel guilty for not realising that many people have passed like this - just because I (sort of) knew Preeya doesn’t mean I shouldn’t feel any less sorry for the dozens of people dying and many more affected everyday. My emotions are in turmoil and yet I’m not directly affected.

Day 153: Typing this on day 154. Gone midday before I woke up. Beers in the evening and watched Den of Thieves. Great film.

Day 154: Woke up at 2:37 pm FFS. Just done a walk and I feel like shit (booze induced).

Day 155: Went to bed at about 4am yesterday but was up at 10am today so, usual Monday correction of sleep patterns. Two long walks today plus a little housekeeping on photos, sharing to the Oundle chatter group, so, quite constructive. Hoir chat with dad plus a chat with a recruitment agemt about a helpdesk manager role in Peterborough.

Day 156: Typing on Day 157. I saw Karen sitting with TTP (and two others I couldn’t make out) at the T&K on my second walk. Why does that piss me off so much? I am being like Jack in Midnight Run. I need to let go.

I am also getting wound up with Tumblr - I can only make entries on this diary blog on the PC - when I try on the Android or Apple apps, they pop up with ‘post too long’. Trying getting info from Tumblr’s online help on that though - fucking not happening. I think I might move this to a Google Blog...it’s not like anyone else reads it. I’m not sure I’d want that - it’s far more a private diary now rather than the cute ‘blog’ idea it started out as. It is now a disciplinary exercise more than anything.

Day 158: Feeling less sorry for myself now. It’s 10pm and I am having a midweek beer as I wait for tea to cook.

Day 159: Decided I will split this diary into 30 day sections to appease Tumblr. My second walk today was at 8pm ‘cos it was pissing down from about 4pm ‘til 7:30pm...very dark and so wet. Home by 9.15pm.

Day 160: I went shopping in Corby (Tesco and Asda) - I only really went so I could get blue eggs. £75 on booze! I was going up to Fog’s tonight but at around 6pm it started to piss down. So, I shall drink at home. It’s 9.15pm, I think it’s going to get messy.

Day 161: Not sure when I wnet to bed last night but I didn’t get up until 2pm. Nice long walk (9km) in the rain!

Banners and Sam G went to London to have a few with Andy P. I’m a little flabbergasted, it’s like there’s no Covid19 all a sudden.

Day 162: Bank holiday Sunday so I am having a beer or two. Tea’s cooking, gonna watch The Accountant on BBC1 at 10.30pm. Today I got up at 1.55pm and managed to have a shower and be downstairs to see the start of the Belgian GP. Hamilton won, pretty easily. I then did my stair climb and a 9.8km (6 mile) walk.

Last night I watched a rather quirky, entertaining comic horror film called Ready or Not and then Ricky Gervais - Fame. That’s the tour I saw him live after seeing Henman’s final tennis match at the Davis Cup at Wimbledon. Bloody funny - the recording could even be the show Karen and I were at. Bed at around 5am, hence not egtting up ‘til way past midday!

Day 163: Bank Holiday Monday, just like a Sunday. I am making this entry on my phone as I'm now able to due to breaking up the diary blog into 30 day sections.

Molly's Game, a film I've tried to rewatch several times but it's never been free, is on BBC2 tonight. I'm recording it right now but actually watching Seinfeld from the start on All4. The first couple of episodes are a bit ropey if truth be told. Luckily, I know it improves.

Day 164: Managed to get hold of Michelle via her daughter Daisy to place a nice big order for C. Just as well ‘cos Tim’s ignoring me!

Rang and spoke with Barry Haddon today to check he’s OK.

Day 165: Picked up C from Michelle’s in Yarwell. While there I was mauled by her over friendly Staffordshirebull terrier getting bit on the thigh. Twice in six months I’ve been bitten by dogs.

Karen WhatsApp’d to see if I’d seen Miley Cyrus on the Live Lounge!

Day 166: Forgot to say that yesterday, I also bumped into and chatted with Pete Gilder. We mainly talked about (getting caught) speeding.

Today I did over 22k steps and I am fucked.

I replied to an email from Shirley at work HR. After the furloughed staff call on Thursday, which I didn’t attend, they want us to cash in some (more) hoilday, which is fine by me, but I have also asked if we are any clearer as to what happens on 1st October, when the rentention scheme ends. I await her reply.

Day 167: Another 20k stpes today. Just 24k needed to have completed 1m steps since the start of July.

It’s Friday, about 9.45pm. I’m going to watch Molly’s Game and have a few beers.

Day 168: Got up at just before 2pm. It’s now 10.15pm and I am just having my first beer, Today was a lazyish day, completed 12k steps.

Day 169: Completed the 1m steps with 24 days to spare. Woohoo. Now, I am unsure whether to reduce the walking I have got so used to doing? I think I might keep up an average of 11k steps a day which is all I would have needed to accomplish to reack 1m in 3 months.

I’m pleased I did it today since I :went to bed a nearly 5am this morning!

Day 170: Actually typing this on day 171. Feels weird having done the 1m steps, almost like I’ve nothing to do. However, I am of course going to keep walking but not quite as hard/much. I did feel liek I was walking myself into the ground all in the name of finishiong the task ASAP. So, today I only had one walk, did 11,5k.

Yesterday’s Italian GP was a cracker. Hamilton had a penalty and ikt ended up with Gasly winning. Full of incident including a red flag so the race ‘restarted’.

I completely forgot ot make this entry on the correct day?

Day 171: I have decided to press on with the walking - not quite so urgently as before - to see what I can achieve steps-wise in 3 months. So, today, an unusually hot day for September, I did 18k steps plus cleaned the bathroom, hoovered my room and stairs and hallway. I am fucked!

Today I have bought a set of smart scales and a new pair of Skechers. The Skechers were almost free (£69 reduced to £30ish which I had in Paypal) and the scales were £20. Still, I shouldn’t. I don’t know what will happen at the end of October when the CJRS ends plus I don’t know what punsihment will be dished out, any day now, for the speeding offence! Fuck it!

Day 172: An eventful day. Boris has restricted gatherings to no more than 6 people and will use ‘Covid Marshalls’ to police this. It’s causing a stir amongst the online community. I have set up accounts with Gurushots and Picfair to showcase my snaps. The latter offers the opportunity to sell them. I watched Anchorman 2. It was pretty good. I also postd on the Oundle chatter group about walking in front of a car the other day - the driver, a yound lady, was enchanting the way she just smiled and let me pass - I used it as an opportunity to ask about George Higgins saving a child from near death at the hands of a lorry, the post about which has disappeared.

Day 173: Lots have seen my post re: my car incident but the bait hasn’t been taken.

Sarah Haines made a nice comment about my photo posts on the Oundle Chatter group also saying that she doesn’t know me but, it turns out she does. She is James Watson’s ex from when I first moved to Oundle so we caught up on Messenger.

Rachel Harris posted a meme slating Boris about the fact we were all encouraged to go out and about (inclding the Eat Out to Help Out scheme) and now we are being sent back to ‘our room’. Some of the comments continue to slate the government. I couldn’t resist commenting that, had the royal ‘we’ maintined social distancing and remembered there’s a fucking pandemic, perhaps we might not be under impending severe lockdown, as it now looks like. I also mentioned photos I have seen (one posted by Rach herslf) whereby you could be mistaken for thinking that there isn’t a pandemic. I have finished the comment with a line about we can only blame ourselves, not the hapless government! I wonder what reaction that will get!

Day 174: Scales were delivered today. If they are accurate I am a little over 11 stones, from 12st 7lbs before lockdown. Can’t quite believe it. I have a yearly diabetic review with Lynne in October so i can check then. If the scales are wrong, I’ll be livid on 2 scores!

Friday night beers as I type. Been looking forward to them since last Saturday!

Day 175: I do not trust the new scales. I get a different reading each time I step on them and by 10-12 lbs. Fucking things. Boots arrived today - they’re going back as well. Footy season started today. Posh lost away to Acrrington Stanley. “Who are they?”

Day 176: The GP was reflagged again today (a new track at Tuscany. A red flag two races on the trot is most unusual. Hamilton won.

Day 177: I managed to get the scales working. I’m pretty much the same weight I was prior to ld (about 12.5 st). This leads me to believe that if I wasn’t doing all the walking I am, I would be as fat as a fucking house. On that note, Google Fit is playing up. It loses the step and heart point count for each walk (although the workouts retain the route map info) Wtf?

I think K and TTP might be a thing from a post I saw on FB whereby some chap (who I don’t know) commented on TTP’s post that it was nice to see him and K. Kinda gutted if it is true but I shouldn’t be. That’s all I will say on here.

Day 178: Jim contacted me today to let me know he’s leaving RCI. He was quite secretive about why and what’s going on but, there it is. He went on to say that HR will be contacting me shortly to call me back from furlough. Sueanne is taking over as team leader but that’s temporary. and that they will most likely promote from within. I struggling to think what it would be like if Mark was boss! The way RCI are and how disjointed it is with Jim as boss, I shan’t take it as read until HR do contact me. Also, I dunno how I feel about it...I have got so used to not working. But, and it’s a big but, I doubt I’ll have a job after the retention scheme finishes so, if this does pan out, it’s good. I’ll be back to job hunting while in a job, as per before the pandemic.

Also, I received an email letting me know the punishment for my speeding offence was 6 points and a £233 fine, plus costs (£90) and victim support (£34), £357 in total. More than I expected. But, no ban, so I’ll suck it up.

Day 179: Having midweek beers. I'm in that sort of mood.

Day 180: I WhatsApp’d Jim to let him know HR haven’t contacted me. His garbled response went from telling to give them a shout and let them know he is leaving, to which I asked ‘don’t they know?’, he then said hold fire (on Sueanne’s instruction) and she has said for me to sit tight and then, finally, that HR will contact me! Fuck knows what’s going on! I had a diabetic review with Lynne today. When you go to the surgery you have to let in, which I was by Keren. It was nice to see and chat with her. She is back with Ronnie which was news to me. Then Lynne came and got me. It was nice to see and chat with her also. She weighed me and I’m 12st 3lb. Apparently in Jan last year I was over 13st!

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #covid19 #lockdownuk

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cashtonsangel · 5 years

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More Than a Bridesmaid

Summary: Planning your sister’s wedding leads to things you could only dream of.

Word Count: 2000+

Warnings: none!!!

A/N: hi the summary sucks but i tried right!! anyways i thought this was cute so i hope yall enjoy!! feedback is appreciated thank you!!! love you!!!

Tonight was the night that your sister had been waiting for since the day she got engaged. The past year had been one of the most tiring ones for your sister as she planned her picture perfect wedding, and it was all finally coming together as you finished the final touches in the room where the reception was being held.

Being her maid of honor, it was your duty to make sure that nothing about this night would go wrong, and you planned to not let your sister and newly wedded brother-in-law down.

The ceremony had gone great, and the reception was coming along piece by piece.

You watched as the newly wedded couple danced the night away while being surrounded by friends and family. You could finally sit down and take a break since the majority of your job was over. All of the formalities of the reception were finally over, and now everyone was just dancing and congratulating the couple.

Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes roamed across the venue before connecting with Calum’s.

Calum Hood. The best man of the of the wedding and your partner in crime when it came to coordinating this whole fiasco.

Calum walked over to where you were seated at the table, pulled out the chair next to you, and sat down. Lifting his glass to his lips he took a sip of his drink and admired the your view of the venue.

You knew of Calum through you sister, but the first time you actually talked to him was during wedding planning where you both had to coordinate with each other to make sure that everything would be a success. And now that everything was done, you couldn’t have been more proud of the blood, sweat, and tears that you both put in.

“We did pretty well, huh?” Calum’s gaze settled on your figure, a proud smile on his face.

“Nothing has gone wrong so far, so yeah, I say we did.”

Rolling his eyes at your response, he held his glass up inviting you to a toast. “To us, the best maid of honor and best man duo that has ever walked the planet.”

Laughing, you echoed his words before bringing your cup to your lips once again.

There was a moment of silence between the both of you. You were absolutely exhausted mentally and physically from the day’s events.

Your mind replayed the events that occurred in the past few hours. You really couldn’t believe that after a year’s worth of hard work would finally be over by tomorrow morning. It was surreal.

It was bittersweet that something that you’ve worked on was finally coming to and end, but you were glad that it was finally off your shoulders.

But it came with a cost.

While helping your sister plan her wedding, your friends and family constantly bombarded with questions about when you were going to settle down like your sister. Day in and day out you were constantly being held behind your sister’s spotlight. You were tired of always being her shadow in everyone’s eyes.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N.” Calum’s voice broke you out of your trance.

“Hmmm?”

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You turned towards Calum, confused as to where his question came from. Giving him a questioning glance, he started to explain.

“Well, you’re looking at your sister, but not like you did earlier. Not to mention, you look quite sad for being at a party.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired” You tried to shrug it off, but Calum could see through your facade.

“C’mon, Y/N. I know you, I’ve seen you when you’re stressed and sad, and I know that this is one of those times.” Calum spoke softly, trying to comfort you.

You and Calum had become pretty close throughout this ordeal, so it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be very candid about your feelings with each other.

Right now you were reluctant to open up about your feelings. It was supposed to be a happy and special day, and you didn’t want to bring the mood down with your thoughts.

Sensing your hesitation, Calum gave turned towards you to give you his full attention. He gave you a look that encouraged you to open up.

“I’ve always been stuck in the shadows, always being compared to others and could never measure up.”

Your eyes followed your sister’s figure as you said the words. Your sister and her husband glided from guest to guest, greeting everyone that they haven’t been able to talk to. You and your sister had been up since 5am preparing for this momentous occasion, but somehow she managed to still have an effortless aura surrounding her, while you were one song away from falling asleep.

“I’m just tired of always being the bridesmaid and never the bride,” you sighed before resting your head in your hand and closing your eyes for a brief moment.

“Well, maybe you don’t have to be the bridesmaid anymore.”

There was a slight pause before you finally registered what Calum had just said.

“Wha-, what do you mean by that?” Confusion was evident in the tone of your voice. Straightening out your posture, you turned towards his figure, curious as to where exactly he was going with this proposition.

He shot you a smirk, one that you have already grown accustomed to in the short week weeks that you have known him.

“How do you feel about getting out of here?” His hands gestured around the venue.

“What?”

“You heard me. Let’s get out of here.”

“I- I don’t understand?”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’re smart. Put the pieces together. I, Calum Hood, am taking you on an adventure. Let’s go.”

“Are you crazy? I can’t leave. I’m the fucking maid of honor; my family would kill me,”

“You said yourself you wanted to get out of your sister’s shadow. This is your chance. You think you can make a name for yourself by constantly staying within the status quo? You have to take chances and take risks to make your own path, Y/N.”

“Calum, I can’t. This is my sister’s wedding, I can’t just leave her. And you’re the best man. They’ll definitely notice if we left.” your voice slightly raising at the end with incredulity.

“Who cares?” His nonchalant voice bothered you. This was the big night for your sister and his brother, but it seemed like Calum couldn’t care less.

“We can’t, Calum. My sister would kill me if she couldn’t find me. I’m sure your brother would do the same.”

“The night’s almost over, Y/N. We won’t be missed too badly.”

“You clearly don’t know my family if you think that the party is gonna stop at midnight.”

“And you clearly don’t know me if you think that excuse is going to stop me.”

“I don’t know you, you idiot. We met only a couple of weeks ago at the wedding rehersals.”

“Your words wound me, Y/N,” Calum clutched his heart for dramatic effect, “but what better way to get to know me than going on a little adventure.”

“You’re insane.”

“I might be insane, but at least I’m fun.”

“Hey! I’m fun!” You were offended by his words.

“Then prove it. Go on an adventure with me.”

“I told you that I can’t, Calum. I can’t leave my family here when I’m the maid of honor.”

“C’mon Y/N. I’m sure everything will be okay if you leave. I’m pretty sure they won’t even notice that you are gone.”

“Uhh, have you met my sister? She is the queen of noticing things. Of course she’s gonna realize that I’m gone the second I walk out of that door.”

“She’s got a bunch of other things on her mind right now. Not to mention there’s like a million other people here to keep her occupied.”

“Yeah, but,” you paused trying to come up with another excuse not to go, “she’s depending on me.”

Both of your gazes fell onto the newlywed couple who were talking to one of your distant relatives that made it to the wedding.

“C’mon. They’ll barely notice our absence. And if they do find out, I’m sure they won’t miss us too much if we leave a little bit early.”

“Calum,” you sighed.

“C’mon Y/N, take a chance, stop being the bridesmaid for once and live for yourself, not for others.”

“I- I don’t know, Cal.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?”

Making a verbal noncommittal response, you shrug your shoulders. You truly didn’t know why you had so much reservation towards Calum’s idea of ditching the wedding. Sure, it was your sister’s wedding, but you knew deep down she would want you to take this chance and live a little.

Your sister has been trying to get you out of your shell and live on the wild side more. This adventure with Calum was something she would want you to do, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to go with Calum.

Excuse after excuse entered your brain as Calum looked as you expectantly. Each one was more ridiculous than the previous. But as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t convince yourself to go.

You couldn’t. There were too many unknowns.

Seeing the doubt cloud your eyes, Calum knew he had to step up his game if he was going to get you to abandon the wedding and explore with him.

“Come on, Y/N. I promise I’m the best company you could be in tonight. We can go out and explore the city. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Cal-”

Suddenly a look crossed Calum’s face, and his eyes lit you with mischief. Standing up and behind your chair, he took in a deep breath before belting out lyrics and moving his body to the imaginary tune of the song.

“Take a chance on me. Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie. If you put me to the test, if you let me try.” You choke on your drink as he started to gain the attention of some of the people near you.

“Sit down and shut up, Calum,” you whisper yelled at him, trying to get him to stop his antics.

“I won’t stop ‘til you say yes.”

“Calum!”

“If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down. If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown. Honey I'm still free. Take a chance on me.”

You frantically looked around and saw that he was slowly attracting more and more attention.

“CALUM, PLEASE!” you whisper-yelled, one last desperate attempt to get him to stop. He just gave you a look before continuing his singing.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll go with you. Please just sit down and shut up. You’re literally so annoying.” You couldn’t handle the embarrassment anymore. Quickly pulling at his arm, you brought him back down to his seat and quickly conceded to his demand.

“You know you love it.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. You’re so lame. Who still sings ABBA nowadays?”

“You’re just jealous of my music tastes.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Hood.”

“You’re just in denial of my good music, Y/N. And I’m pretty sure you’re secretly in love with my singing.”

“Fuck off.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you as you contemplate what was to be expected from this impromptu outing, while Calum was replaying his victory over and over again in his head with a smile on his face.

“So, where are we going?” You were the first to snap out of your thoughts.

Smirking, he replied, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“You don’t know, do you, Cal?” Worry laced your words as Calum gave you a look of fak annoyance.

“Shut up, Y/N and live a little, will ya.” Holding his hand out for you to take, you looked around the room making sure that no one was paying attention to the both of you.

Sensing your hesitation, Calum started humming to the tune of Take a Chance on Me in a threatening manner.

Rolling your eyes, you placed your hand in his and snuck out of the wedding towards a new beginning.

tag list: @gigglyirwin @jpgluke @mysticalhood

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hayjeon · 6 years

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Snow and Ice 01 [m] (ft. Jungkook)

→ friendswithbenefits!au with Snowboarder!JK and figure skater!reader during the Olympicssss!

→ 11.1k | part 2 (coming soon!)

A/n: I know that winter olympics is exclusive to winter sports and vice versa with summer, but let’s ignore that for the sake of the fic ;) (ie. mentions of gymnasts)

also this was meant to be a oneshot, but after getting somewhere around 18k...i decided to split into 2 parts! sorry, but hope you guys enjoy what I already have! :D not heavily edited sry but enjoyoyyyyoyyoy

“How fucking hard is it for the boys to seriously not sound like a bunch of monkeys at 3am in the damn morning?!” You grouch, stomping out of the restroom to Irene.

She’s already dressed in her gym outfit, and tying her shoes. “God, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I think they’ve made a bet or something to see who can make it the longest after bottomless drinking.” Stretching, she groans, “They were up even up til 5am I think, after you fell asleep.”

You roll your eyes, slipping off your robe and pulling on a tight spandex pair of leggings and sports bra. You grab your water bottle and join your teammate as you walk down the hall of the rooming area and into the gym. “It would be nice for once to try and get a normal week of life before the games start. By the way, are we doing cardio today?”

Irene nods, tying her hair up high. “Start off with 60 minutes running and then help me stretch? We’ll go practice on the rink later after lunch.”

You nod and throw the towel on the handle as you step up onto a machine. It’s 6am, but already, dozens of other athletes are busy at work, pressing the weight machines and cardio machines to life. You can see that the gymnastics girls are taking up most of the easy weights, and the hockey players fiddling with the heavier weights. Seokjin, one of the guys from your university’s snowboarding team, walks up to you with a smile, starting up the running machine next to yours, and matching your brisk walk.

“Good morning,” he grins, “How are you feeling?”

You roll your eyes, cracking your neck. “God, Jin, I wanted to kill the guys on the fourth floor. Literally, they’re the loudest herd of chimpanzees when they’re drunk.”

Seokjin laughs, upping his speed. “They made a bet to see who could drink the longest from the keg. It was interesting to watch but my coach would’ve killed me if she were here and saw me sleeping anytime past 1am. And even though our coaches can’t be here in the lodgings,” he shudders, taking a swig from his bottle, “I’d rather not find out what she’ll do to me if she ever knew the truth.”

You laugh, increasing your speed and matching his long strides with quick ones of your own. “Good thinking, you’re smart.”

He grins at you and the both of you ease into your daily routines.

Everyday is like this, even when you’re not in the Olympic village. This is your second Olympics, and your second time representing your country for women’s figure skating. Being said, getting here meant that every day was a routine, just like today’s, monkey boys living a floor above you or not.

Wake up at 5am, and cardio for an hour, stretch for 30, practice jumps on mats for 30, and then actually skating for another 2 hours, before returning to stretch out the sore muscles, and then finally getting to eat your first meal, which was probably a salad, chicken breast, and maybe a fruit smoothie if your morning cardio was more productive than usual. Then it was a bit of rest and loosening the muscles with a warm bath, and then back with weight training and more skating until it was night, and the lactic acid buildup was making your muscles all shaky and unsteady. Rinse, repeat.

It’s easy to throw popcorn at your tv screen and sneer, “Idiots,” when a representative of the country makes a mistake during the games. Somehow, everyone sitting at home in front of their televisions, munching on their bottomless fried chicken and coke became masters at whatever sport they were watching this time of year. But becoming an olympian meant that this was your life: training, practicing, and winning.

You amp up the speed on the machine into a full sprint as you think of the way you only got a silver medal the last time you competed. The bratty Jennie Kim had won the gold, and managed to shove it in your face every single time you two saw each other. She was here too, you could practically smell the hatred and the evil emanating off her skin whenever you were in a 50 mile radius of her.

You sigh as your music lets you drift off into a place, a place where you don’t have to think about how sweaty and tired you are already. The music that you chose this year for your routine was classy, and so was the show that you prepared.

It took months of training, and was also the reason you had to go so hard on cardio this year: there were four triple-axels, triple toe-loops you had to master during the routine, and that didn’t even include the two triple salchows towards the end of the routine. None other than Kim Yuna had attempted and succeeded at doing a routine like that completely without failing.

All while looking like a complete goddess.

Beethoven’s 9th symphony was a fairy-like, dainty work of art, with swells of the orchestra booming in the background to create an ominous feeling to it. To master this routine, you’d had to also go through hours of acting classes, to get “in touch with your deepest emotions,” like your coach Minho had convinced you.

Your mother had gotten her hands on the most gorgeous outfit, a turquoise, shimmering deep blue-green that make your skin glitter and shine and complimented your eyes and matched incredibly well with the silver accents and accessories embroidered onto the dress.

You don’t really remember how you got here. It just started as an innocent day at the rink, where you’d convinced your mother to let you do something more interesting than learning the piano or the violin, and she’d let you choose between gymnastics and figure skating. You were mesmerized by the pretty outfits as a little girl, so she’d taken you for lessons.

And then the lessons slowly became rehearsals for the junior figure skating team, and then your coach labeled you as team captain, and then you were being sent off to do shows all around the country. You were then competing and winning gold medals as fast as ever, and at the ripe young age of 17, you were crowned as the next Female Figure Skating Olympian to join your country’s team, to train and compete in the next winter olympics.

That was how you were thrust into this world of competing and working yourself to the bone at age 18. It just...sort of happened, and at one point in your little 18 year old life you did have a moment to turn around and survey how the hell you got here in the first place. But, it was too late, and you were way too invested, switching out hours of studying or playing video games or with dolls for training on the ice in your childhood to back out now.

Your workout comes to an end and you’re already sweating bullets and chugging down buckets of water by the end. Irene finishes a couple of seconds before you do and waits for you as you cool down and step off. You both take a couple more minutes to towel off and cool before you step into the mirror room, and begin to stretch. You place your ankle on top of the poles for steadiness and begin stretching your upper body, cooling down in the air conditioned room.

“Well if it isn’t y/n?” A voice sounds in the entrance of the stretching room and all the heads in the room turn to see who it is.

You don’t even have to look to know who it is.

He cockily wipes his face with a towel and throws it over his shoulder, spraying a steady stream of water from his bottle into his mouth as he saunters over to where you’re stretching. You roll your eyes and ignore him, switching sides and propping your other leg up 90 degrees as you curve your torso towards it with your hand stretched towards your toes.

He walks up to you and in the mirror, you can see the other girls in the room whispering and giggling at the presence of the handsome Olympian.

Jeon Jungkook. Age 22. Also his second time competing in the Olympics. Gold medalist if we’re talking about olympics, but all time World Champion in the Men’s Snowboarding medium and Guiness World Record holder for highest score last year, beating out previous record holders and his own best scores with the recent win. Endorses like a thousand snowboarding and athletic brands like Northface and Tim Burton. Also the owner of his own resort on the side. He was a celebrity within the Olympians, and also voted one of the hottest Olympians ever.

“Looking good,” he rakes his eyes up and down your body, grinning sleazily. “How long has it been, 3 years? 4 years?”

You huff as you take down your leg from the pole. “If you could ever for once figure out how to do math, you’d know that it’s been 4 years since the last olympics, Jeon Jungkook.”

He smirks when you finally respond to him, walking over to lean against the pole as you sit down and begin stretching your hamstrings. “Congrats on your win during the World Championships, I watched and cheered for you during it.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you here to make fun of my silver medal too? I have enough knowing grins from Jennie Kim to last me a lifetime.” You switch legs, leaning forward and pressing your knees against your chest.

He laughs, “Hell no, I would never dare to make fun of the ice queen.”

Straightening up, you narrow your eyes at him. He’s been calling you that since you can remember. “Get lost, Jungkook. Go do your weights or whatever.” You resume stretching, extending one leg far behind you as you sit comfortable in a split.

He stands, watching you from above. “Suit yourself. Know I’ll be back though.”

He walks cockily back, lifting the edge of his shirt to wipe at the sweat on his brow, which is completely stupid because he has a towel. It’s so obvious he does it to get a ruse out of the other gymnasts and skaters stretching in the room, which it does.

Irene inches up to you and joins you in your stretches.

“Don’t ask,” you groan and switch sides.

She shrugs, laughing at you in the mirror. “Wasn’t gonna. That exchange spoke for itself. He definitely has the hots for you.”

You roll your eyes and groan as you get up, and Irene joins you to help you stand and lift your leg up as high as she can reach, way up over your head. “Uh,” you cringe at the stiffness of your thigh muscles, “He does that to everyone. Seriously. I’ve seen him even give some of the referees sleazy looks. It’s just in his blood.”

She whistles as you switch legs. “Well whatever his blood’s doing, I bet it’s working real hard.”

“Ew!” You exclaim and laugh, letting her switch sides with you as you help her with her standing splits. “Never!”

She laughs, finishing her other side. “Alright grumpy, let’s go get you some breakfast before you rip my head off and get even more hangry.”

_____________________________________________________________________

You both get washed up and changed before heading over to the Dining Hall. It’s basically another stadium, with the lower levels transformed into a buffet style area and tables and chairs all looped together like high school all over again.

Hoseok, one of the male figure skaters, joins your table and Seokjin appears a couple minutes after, his plate piled high with all the food he could find at the buffet.

Hoseok cringes at the sight, “Jeez, dude, how many calories even is that thing?”

You and Irene peer over to see a buttload of eggs, rice, noodles, meats, and salad piled onto his tray. The both of you sigh at the sight, watching dreamily as Seokjin shoves the food endlessly into his mouth. It was your own personal mukbang broadcast.

“Uhhh two-touszhndf-mpmph” Seokjin mutters, and Hoseok glares again, cringing at the food that flies out of Seokjin’s mouth.

“Two thousand?” You balk, resting your chin in your hand as you push a cherry tomato around on your plate with your fork. “Did you increase it since last time?”

Seokjin nods, washing his huge mouthful down with a swig of orange juice. “I don’t know what it is about this weather, but I’m starving.”

Irene sighs, setting down her cup. “God, I just wanna eat a big heaping bowl of french fries and a oozy, greasy cheeseburger right about now.” Hoseok nods in forlorn agreement and you nod too, pouting at the sad dressing-less salad in front of you.

Seokjin talks again, food flying, “They have some! Over there! Can’t you sneak one? Our coaches aren’t even here.”

Irene doesn’t even bother looking. She shakes her head. “No, it’ll affect our jumps. Really. Even the slightest bit of change in our weight will throw our center of gravity off. Plus, have you seen our outfits? They’re tight as fuck.”

You nod, sighing as you swallow the last piece of cabbage. “Mine’s so tight I have to wear a stick-on bra instead of having it padded, like normal.”

Hoseok cringes, “Hell ya, mine’s so tight I have to clench my ass cheeks everytime I do a sitting spin, or else the spandex gets too tight and gives me the absolute worst wedgie.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Guys, shut up. You know who has the worst, tightest outfits? The swim team.”

The three of you stop talking, and burst in laughter as Seokjin rolls his eyes. You imagine the swim team in their tiny little speedos, junk squeezed tight and asses practically fighting to get out. You snort, “HAHA, don’t those guys ever like accidentally moon someone or like slip out of those things? I feel like they’re so small on their hips, it’ll fit around me.” You giggle, and Irene joins you, laughing at Seokjin’s disgusted expression.

He’s about to respond when a voice interrupts. “Talking about the swim team’s speedos?”

You all turn to see Park Jimin, captain of the Men’s Ice Hockey team turn up with a few of his teammates to your table. He sets his tray down next to yours, and laughs when Irene nods.

Seokjin resumes, “Okay they’re not that tight, like I won’t lose any sperm because of it. They’re just...snug.”

Irene cackles. “How do you even know?! You’re a snowboarder!”

He shrugs, chewing thoughtfully. “Sometimes when you’re boarding you need a little extra waterproof protection.”

The entire table explodes into laughter and disgust, and you join in, finally feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“Man, this makes me remember how it was in camp all those years ago, doesn’t it?” Jimin adds, and you guys all reminisce to the high school days, where athletes would attend a “athlete-morale” camp over the summer every year, which was just a sorry excuse for job-less coaches to shove down inspiring speeches and “team-building” activities down your helpless throats.

A lot of you separate into your own conversations, launching into giggles and yells of memories you all shared together. That’s how you knew so many of the Olympians here. Even though you all had different schedules and different sports and areas of interest, somehow most of you had gathered at this camp every summer without fail. And every summer, the lot of you would suffer and bitch and complain together about how stupid and useless the lessons and activities were, and plot ways to escape your cabins at night to sneak away and do some drinking or exploring. Given, you drove your camp leaders crazy. They’d never seen a group of athletes like you guys, they said as they warily sent you home after a week of sleepless nights.

Jimin nudges you. “How have you been?”

You grin, turning to him, “Good, you?”

“Same as ever,” he grins, smiling the sweet smile where his eyes would crinkle.

“Actually you look a little different, you lost a lot of your baby fat.” You reach over and pinch his cheeks, and he frowns at you humorously as you laugh. “I remember we used to call you acorn because your face was so round.”

He groans, “Seriously, I never forgave Yoongi hyung for coming up with that name.”

You laugh, sipping your coffee. “I hear you and your team won silver in nationals, congratulations.”

He sighs, “Thanks, y/n, but you know in our world, only the gold is worth congratulating for.”

You nod, “I know how that feels.” Shrugging, he agrees with you, sending you a sad forlorn apologetic smile. He probably heard down the grapevine that you’d gotten silver.

“But at least this year, you’re gonna win gold right?”

You shrug, picking at your cup. “I don’t know...the routine is really hard and I’m still jet lagged and not feeling my best. I’m getting nervous, and that anxiety was exactly why I stumbled a bit during my routine last year and lost the gold to Jennie.”

“Ah Jennie,” he recalls, “Pretty, but sort of a bitch.” He shrugs, and Irene cuts in. “Sort of? Nope, she’s such a bitch.”

The two conversations between yours and Jimin’s and Irene’s with Hoseok and Seokjin merge as Irene rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, it was ridiculous. Jennie’s routine wasn’t half as great as y/n’s but there was a slight stumble, which wasn’t even a stumble, and Jennie won. Which is ridiculous because Jennie actually tripped and had to leave out a spin on one of her turns to make sure she didn’t actually fall.”

Hoseok tips his head. “Y/n, you stumbled?”

Before you can even answer, Irene does it for you. “It was literally just a slight stumble, at most she switched her blade and landed with a bit more spark than usual.”

You shrug, nodding at Irene to thank her for explaining it. You’d had to explain it way too many times now. “Whatever, it’s past now, and there’s not much I can do about it. We’re both here now, so it’s just important that I stay focused.”

Seokjin nods. “Don’t worry, y/n. You’ll win. I’m sure of it.”

Hoseok snorts, “How?”

Seokjin makes a funny face, “Didn’t ya’ll know that I’m a genius and got voted the #1 most handsome face of the Olympians? If anyone knows things like that, it’s me.” He says, and everyone chuckles at it. Same ol’ Seokjin.

“Speaking of which, here comes #1 most “daddy” Olympian.” Hoseok comments, glancing at the entrance of the dining hall. By instinct, you turn with Irene in your chair to see Jeon Jungkook sauntering in with the rest of his snowboarding team.

The guys are gorgeous, with languid body movements, but strong bulky builds underneath all their protective waterproof jackets. Their jaws were chiseled and their looked rugged in that hot way. Jaebum, the one on Jungkook’s left was Irene’s favorite for a while, and was handsome and charming enough to even appear on a couple of variety shows and drama cameos. The snowboarders were actual celebrities back home.

You roll your eyes and turn back as quickly as possible, but not before Jungkook’s gaze settles on yours with a smirk. “I don’t even understand how that vote was even cast.” You grumble, sipping your coffee. “Seriously, out of all the other athletes, Jungkook? Gross.”

Jimin laughs. “Well, who do you think would have been #1 then?”

You groan, cringing. “To be honest, you or Seokjin.”

All of you laugh as Seokjin pumps his fist, “Yes!” He cries out, food flying out of his mouth again, to Hoseok’s horror. “I knew it. Y/n think’s I’m hotter than Jeon Jungkook!”

“Shut up!” you hiss, laughing as you try to get him to sit down, but it’s too late. At the sound of his name, Jeon Jungkook is drawn to your table like a fly to a light and grins as he walks over. “Incoming,” Irene hisses as she smiles up fakely at Jungkook.

“I heard my name, are you guys talking about me?” He drawls, grinning as he perches a hand on the back of your chair. You ignore him and eat your yogurt.

Jimin laughs, lifting a hand to shake hands with Jungkook. “’Sup dude, it’s been a while. Lookin’ good.” He smiles and you watch in disgust as Jungkook laughs, tainting Jimin’s innocent and beautiful presence with an entire bucketful of gross cocky frat-boy confidence.

“I’ve been cutting a little bit, trying to not bulk too much these days,” Jungkook shrugs, flexing his arm a little to the delight of the gymnasts a few tables over. “I started getting a little less air once I started bulking up. But you’re lookin’ better bro, you guys training a lot?”

Jimin nods, clapping the teammate next to him on a shoulder lightheartedly. He grins his charming smile again, his eyes crinkling on the sides. “Yeah, our couch has been pushing us real hard these days, but it’s been working. We’re all at our best weights of the season, and feeling real good for the upcoming games.” He smiles at you, glancing sadly at your poor little salad. “Y/n, you must be having a hard time recently too, right? Coach has us on a strict diet, but yours is probably stricter, isn’t it?”

You sigh, pushing around your cold chicken breast around on the plate for both guys to see. “I eat less than a thousand calories per day, all divided into six tiny meals. Helps keep off the weight so that I can jump higher. I can’t remember the last time I had an all-you-can-eat korean barbeque dinner. Maybe it was when I was in elementary school? Legit over a decade ago.” You shake your head as you picture the cold piece of meat as a sizzling hunk of delicious pork.

It doesn’t help.

Jungkook laughs, inviting himself to take the empty seat next to yours, his arm draped over the back. “Well, I for one, think you have an amazing body.” He winks at you and you pretend to gag as everyone chuckles at the table.

“Gross!” you exclaim, pointing your fork menacingly at him. “Don’t you have some other girls to flirt with besides me? I’ve had enough fratboy for a day.”

He grins, hand splaying across your back, warm against your skin. “Trust me, y/n, you’ll never have enough of me.” He winks and bids everyone a dumb cocky drawled “Later guys,” and walks off with his boy band team.

Hoseok grins at you, “Was I high off my painkillers for a second or did Jeon Jungkook actually flirt with you and basically imply that he wanted to bang?”

You choke on a piece of lettuce as everyone around the table nods, Irene and Seokjin chiming in with a simultaneous, “Totally.” Before turning to eachother with wide eyes and high-fiving.

“Gross!” You exclaim again for the second time that morning, washing it down with a swig of water. “Me with Jeon Jungkook? I feel my ovaries shriveling up at the thought of sleeping with that frat-boy pig.” Jimin just watches you carefully.

Hoseok shrugs, “I bet if you sleep with him, it won’t just be your ovaries shriveling up. I hear he’s great in bed.”

“Ugh! God Hoseok! Can you like not?” You cringe, and he laughs.

“I can’t help it! He’s cute!! If he swung this way, I’d jump on that even before he could even know he was gay.”

Everyone laughs and shakes their head at Hoseok’s blunt gayness, and you just grin uncomfortably as you turn back to your salad. You look up to see Jimin just watching you with a shy smile as he continues eating without a word.

After breakfast, it was time to stretch a little more and actually start skating. You say bye to the rest of the crew and make your way to the gym again with Irene. You cringe, massaging your shoulder as you walk over.

“Fuck,” you mutter, kneading the sore muscles. “My shoulder is all messed up...”

Irene turns with a worried expression. “Oh shoot, I knew that not sleeping with a neck pillow would mess with your trap muscles. Did you bring your muscle cream with you?”

Rummaging through your pack, you frown, “No...shit it really hurts though.”

She pushes you towards the dorms. “Go and get it before we get on the rink, Coach’ll kill you if she finds out you didn’t treat it before getting on the ice. You know how she is. One little painful thing and she’ll go crazy on you and make sure you get it treated and ban you from the ice until it’s better.”

You nod, biting your lip. “Don’t wait up for me!” You jog in the direction of the dorms.

It’s a bit chilly, but the cardio helps a little as you make your way up the lavish road towards the towering buildings. The olympic villages...were always nice on the outside, but pretty dumb on the inside.

Athletes were organized into country teams and shoved into tiny little apartments by gender, provided with college dormitory-style like rooms with two or three beds shoved into them with skinny little closets for your coats and stuff. You sigh as the dorm doors open to a rush of cold air, and scan your nametag before jogging over to the elevator, staring at your phone and logging your breakfast calories.

The elevator opens and you nonchalantly walk inside, but right before the doors close, a hand comes in and slams the door crevice, forcing the doors to open automatically. You frown at the noise and look up to see who it is, and your jaw drops as you see Jungkook smirking at you as he steps in the elevator. You roll your eyes and drop your neck back to your phone as your typing fingers become a little harsher at the screen of your phone.

He grins at you, “Whatcha doin’?”

“Trying to have some alone time,” you grumble, rolling your eyes at nothing in particular. He grins and somehow in his brain interprets it as an invitation to move closer and peer at your phone screen. “Sexting?”

“No, god Jungkook,” you yelp, twisting the screen away from him, “You’re still super gross.”

He laughs as the doors open and he trails after you. “This isn’t even your floor.” You grumble, walking down the hall towards your room anyway.

“This isn’t even my building, but you knew that already.” He shrugs, grinning at you. He knew you too well, and he knew that too. God, you just wanted to strangle him in that pretty little neck of his. You unlock your door and he hovers, watching you rummage around your room for the bright blue container of your muscle cream.

“So, you have a thing with the hockey player?” He leans against your door, eyeing you with a cocky smirk.

You huff and drop your duffel, giving up on finding the muscle cream you were positive you packed. Hands on your hips, you face him with a glare.

“Just because I exchanged a couple of words with Jimin doesn’t mean I’m dating him, Jungkook. I’m not like you, fucking the first thing he sees.”

He hisses between his teeth, throwing his head back as he chuckles. “Oooo that burned. Straight from the ice princess. You really chose your sport didn’t ya? Double meaning and all.”

Glaring, you roll your eyes and turn back to digging through the drawers. “Why the hell are you here? I need to apply my muscle cream.”

Grinning, he produces a condom packet from his pocket. “Guess what? These are Olympic grade. I would hate to waste them when they’re giving ‘em away so freely.” Shrugging, he gestures between the both of you. “We can see if they work as well as they’re supposed to?”

When you don’t reply, he grins again, letting the door shut behind him and lock as he saunters over to you.

“So whaddyou say, for old times sake?”

You groan, whirling around and facing him head on with a glare.

“Jungkook,” you grit, “we slept together twice. Four years ago. There is no old time’s sake.” You wave your arms dramatically.

He laughs, leaning back comfortably on your bed, and you groan. “Yeah it was four years ago, but equally as good. I mean,” he wonders, flipping the condom around in his fingers, “who knew that the goody little ice princess was actually such a freak in bed?”

You finally find the annoying little blue container and spin at him with hands on your hips. “Stop talking about that night. It never happened, okay? No one can know.” You twist open the container and unzip your jacket to reveal your sports bra and turn away from Jungkook to apply it.

He watches you struggle to reach the spot near your shoulder blade. “Need help?”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “No.”

He shrugs, “Your legs are flexible, but you know your arms not flexible enough to reach it and everyone’s out for training now. I’ll do it, no funny business.” He stands, and you glare at him but let him draw nearer as he takes the container from you.

“Turn around,” he says gently, and begins to slather on the cream into your shoulder and neck, rubbing it in so that the stickiness is absorbed completely into your skin. You wince as he rubs too hard and he apologizes, setting the container down and concentrating on not rubbing too hard.

“It wasn’t only four, you know,” he mutters, and you pause, frowning. “What?”

“We slept together twice four years ago during the games, but we also slept together a couple more times after that. Just not at the games.” He stops rubbing, and you jerk your jacket onto your shoulder again, standing up from the bed with a glare as you pack your backpack.

“Dont,” you warn, teeth gritted, “talk about that in front of anyone, ever. It could jeopardize our careers. Do you understand?! A few drunken nights together doesn’t mean anything! No matter how hot you think you are!” You storm off, jamming your shoes on and stomping outside.

The only thing you hear before the door slams shut is his cocky voice calling out, “So you think I’m hot?!”

Turn, Triple toe loop, land, Bielmann spin, stop, smile, turn again blade change.

You chant the routines in your head as you glide over the ice with the music. Although there were still 2 weeks left ahead of your actual performance, it was still crucial that you skated your program more than 10 times a day so that it was completely muscle memory by the time you stepped onto Olympic ice.

Your teammates watch carefully from the sidelines with your coach, who’s carefully scrutinizing your every move. You finish with a flourish, chest heaving as the swell of music ends.

Irene claps happily and Hoseok also joins her, cheering your name as you crumble over, hands on your knees as you heave with the effort of skating heavily for so long. Your coach steps onto the ice, patting your back as you put on your skate guards and take a seat.

“Good job Y/N,” she nods, stepping aside to let other skaters take to the ice. “Why don’t you go home today and stretch a little? You’re looking a little stiff.”

You nod, and on the corner of your eye, you see Jennie Kim step onto the ice. “Sure thing, coach, but let me stay behind and watch this one.” Coach Kim follows your gaze and softens. “Y/N,” she urges, “I don’t know if it’ll help you to watch her program.”

“It’s fine!” You reassure her with a smile and join Hoseok and Irene on the benches as the music begins.

Jennie was a phenomenal skater, everyone agreed. She was beautiful and thin and charming and knew exactly how to flirt on the ice. What you lacked in with performance skills, she excelled in with expressions and smiles, and what she lacked in technical jumps and clean cut programs, she excelled in making it look even more effortless and flirting with the audience enough to grant standing ovations and performing with a lot of emotion.

As the three of you watch her run through her program, she completes jumps and spins that you never expected her to be able to complete. “How the hell did she learn to do the triple lutz triple toe loop combo?! I thought last show she had to cut it out of her program because she couldn’t land it properly!” You hiss, and Irene shrugs, her jaw hanging open too. “I don’t know...” she says lowly, watching Jennie glide over the ice as if she were weightless. “That...that’s impossible to do within what...six weeks? Even Rose couldn’t do it like that.”

Hoseok gasps, “Oh my god, she faked that she couldn’t do it so she’d lower your expectations.”

You frown and watch her finish her routine, one she stops and gets claps from other people also watching from the stands. Your coach pats you on the shoulder. “Although her routine is a lot more complex than we thought it would be, if you execute ours perfectly, you’re bound to get a hell of a lot more points than she can. Your training is gonna pay off, don’t worry about it.”

Chewing on your lip, you nod, crossing your arms and worriedly walking out of the rink.

Your steps are heavy as you head towards the gym. Jennie and you had once been peers, two young girls who began skating together for fun and ended up enjoying it and being actually good at it. But then, somehow, somewhere within all the competition, you both had stopped doing eachother’s makeup and hair between performances, and instead had resorted to smirks and jeers as you challenged eachother.

Your gold medal or championship trophies matched the number of ones she had, and the both of you were neck to neck during every single match you could ever think of since you both became teenagers.

This was probably going to be your final or second to last Olympics, and then you would end up doing promotions for companies or becoming a trainer for the rest of your life. If you wanted to live comfortably, you would have to skate like your life depended on it, and Jennie did too. Whatever medals the both of you won today would go down in history and determine the next years to come. If you didn’t win that gold medal this year, you were determined to just retire before it became even more embarrassing.

The gym is full, with the sun high up in the air at 2pm. You can see a group of hockey players fiddling with the weights alongside the swimmers who were working the machines. The gymnasts and the female swimmers were already stretching in the padded room, and the running machines full of all types of athletes. Immediately, when you enter, the white shirt stretched over Jungkook’s back muscles is the first thing you see.

Ignoring the clenching feeling of anxiety in your gut, you head over to the stretching area to begin cooling off.

Feet out, leg as high up as you can, you coax yourself, mimicking what your coach would be telling you as of now. You can feel the stiffness, all the way back to your calves and the muscle cream from yesterday wasn’t helping all that much. Facing the mirror, you balance a hand on the beam and lean forward, lifting your leg up high far above your head as you balance on one foot, preparing for one of your spins.

Through the mirror, you see him come in, his head swiveling as he surveys the myriad of other girls stretching and then smiling wide as he jogs over to you, throwing his sweaty towel around his neck. Gross.

“So,” he says, leaning against the bar with a greasy smile. “Did you think about what I said?”

You roll your eyes and continue stretching. “How many times did I tell you that there’s absolutely nothing to talk about?”

“How many times after that night did you even have sex at all?” He scoffs, moving around to face you when you turn to switch sides.

“Did you like, even go out after that?” He prods, watching you stretch through the mirror. He wipes his sweat with the small hand towel, spraying some water from his bottle into his mouth and shaking out his sweaty bangs.

You switch legs, making another face when it strains a little. He notices, “oh, uh, do you need some help with that?”

You finally acknowledge him after twenty minutes of ignoring him. He was persistent, you had to give him that. Rolling your eyes you nod, “Do you remember how?”

“No,” he scoffs, but steps forward anyway, cradling your ankle in his larger hands. He’s hot, the cool temperature of the stretching area doing nothing to cool off his skin. He steps forward so the both of you are almost a hand width apart and places your ankle daintily on his broad shoulder. He then steps even closer, supporting your lower back with his hands and slowly pressing in to help stretch the calves and hamstrings.

You wimper a little because he’s almost an entire head and a half taller than your petite size and the leg on his shoulder is pressed almost to your chest. Squeezing your eyes shut you breathe in and out, the both of your bodies rocking slightly to accommodate the inflation of your lungs into your chest.

You can feel the heat emanating off his chest as he stands there looking down at you with the hardness of his body pressed up against the back of your thigh. It’s hard to not let your mind wander at that, flashbacks of drunken irresponsible high school days when you’d go to bed with him fucking you from behind and wake up to him kissing between your legs. And then you’d finish off with a nice hot bath and some good food. Back when you had no responsibilities, no worries, and no burdens on your shoulders.

The moment causes your mind to go a little hazy and in the fleeting few seconds of feeling vulnerable and the flood of hormones at the familIr feeling of his body against yours you whisper, “I haven’t” in response to his questions before. It’s too quiet to be heard over the high quality air conditioner whirring almost silently in the corner, but nonetheless his proximity lets him hear the two words.

He doesn’t say anything though, and lets your leg down from his shoulder and helps you get the other one onto his right shoulder. Rinse and repeat. But just as you open your mouth to say something more, a hand on the small of your back smooths over the curve of your hip and up your thigh and over to your ankle. Holding it delicately there, his hand grips it wth a firm and warm grasp, as he angles his head down to meet your questioning gaze.

“Me neither.” He whispers, and steps forward to press himself tightly against you. Your back presses against the bar and your hands flutter up from it to grip his forearms. You distinctly feel his hardness pressed against your belly.

“Seriously? Don’t lie to me Jeon Jungkook. The last time we slept together was months ago.”

“I’m serious!” You give him a glare.

“Do you…?” He trails off, and begins blinking like he does when he gets nervous.

The question lingers heavily over the hum of the running machines and air purifiers lining the training area.

His hands release your ankle and sets it gingerly on the ground, and he steps back, the warmth of his body and his chest and his hands and his breath leaving you all at once. You stumble a little back, your back resting on the bar.

Space, he was giving you space to decide.

You sigh, flexing your hands that are beginning to sweat. Your performance wasn’t for another two weeks. What did you have to lose?

Thinking about the way Jennie glided over that triple-toe-triple-lutz combination with no effort at all made you rage all the way inside, insides glowing hot from the annoyance of being fooled by her again. What was just one night of sex going to do? Your coach told you to relax and make sure you weren’t too stressed out and anxious...this...this was just an interesting way of doing it. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.

“Fine,” you huff, stepping forward, gathering your things and heading out, as he jogs after you with a surprised look. “But on one condition, Jeon Jungkook. You cannot tell anyone. Are we clear?”

He smirks, running a hand through his hair. “Clear as ice.”

“Fuck,” you wimper as the the door slams shut behind you and Jungkook crowds your personal space. He’s breathing heavily, yanking harshly at your jacket zipper until it falls to the ground and your sports bra is all you’re wearing on top. He unzips that too and lets it fall to the ground, kissing you senselessly, lips moving against yours and drawing out your breaths and moans.

“God I missed this,” he breathes, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you tongue at his neck as he sets you on his bed and strips off his jacket. “Did you miss me too?” He smirks as he sucks on your nipple crewdly and you moan in response, hips bucking up into his.

“No--oh my god” you keen when he yanks down your legging and rubs at you through your underwear. Your hand flies down to grip his wrist, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. “Oh-- fuck, please don’t stop.”

He just chuckles and yanks your underwear band aside to reveal your dripping core, sliding his fingers in you with no obstruction at all. “Oh shit, Y/N, you’re so fucking wet,” he grumbles, nipping at your breast as you mewl and twist under the onslaught of sensations.

“Take your pants off,” you breathe, panting harshly as he kneels up to peel his shirt off, revealing white milky skin, textured with taught lines and lean muscle. You help him untie the strings on his sweatpants, nimble fingers working desperately at the waistband until Jungkook gets impatient and just yanks it down his hips along with his boxers.

While he grabs a condom, you yank off your panties, pushing him to sit up against the headboard of the bed. You straddle him, throwing a thigh over his hips and resting your hands on his shoulders for leverage.

Were his shoulders always this broad?

You shake away the thought as he grips himself and guides himself to your center, rubbing his sensitive tip against your wetness and smearing it around to make it more comfortable. You busy yourself with sucking a hickey against his collarbone, licking and biting until the clean flesh becomes red and inflamed and shiny with your spit.

“Ready?” He breathes out, pupils blown out as he pants up at you. You nod and lower yourself on him slowly, and Jungkook moves his hand from gripping himself to settle and help you guide your hips down onto him. The both of you moan when you bottom out, panting and gripping each other desperately. When the stretch isn’t so bad, you rock your hips slowly back and forth, not yet bouncing up and down on him yet.

The movement stimulates your clit against his pelvis and you moan, throwing your head back and looping your arms around his neck as you continue to swivel your hips on him. Jungkook sits there, eyes heavy lidded as he watches you with a slight smile on his lips. His hand raises to curl your hair over your shoulder, his hand following and resting on your neck as he leans down to kiss against your neck, tongue laving heavily, hot and wet against your skin as you cling to him.

He’s marking you too, focusing on the area right where your jawline meets your ear and nibbling against it, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin, making you moan. “Jungkook,” you whine, and he seems to understand what you’re asking for when his hand settles on your hips again and he begins to guide you up and down his length.

The extra stimulation gets him going and he cringes. “Fuck, Y/N,” he grits his teeth and his hairline begins to dot with sweat at the effort. “I...I’m gonna cum s-soon.”

“Already?” You gasp, opening your eyes to ask him. He nods, biting his lip as he groans, his jaw falling open. “I-it’s been a r-really long t-time. And you feel s-so fucking good. Hngh.” He groans as you squeeze around him in response to his praise.

“Okay,” you breathe, “Just wait for me, hold on.” You reach down and rub your clit in wide circles, gathering the wetness from where you and Jungkook meet, and pressing into your clit with the pads of your fingers. Jungkook just buries his face into your neck, panting harshly against your collarbone as you continue to swivel your hips, moaning and rubbing like your life depended on it.

With the feeling of Jungkooks lips on your nipples and his hands roaming your body, and his dick reaching parts of you that your fingers can’t even think of stimulating, and along with the 7-month-long hiatus from sex with him, you find yourself reaching the edge fairly quickly.

“O-oh shit, Jungkook,” you whisper, letting him take over in rubbing circles on your clit, “I-I’m gonna---” You bite down on his shoulder, dampening the moans that tumble out of your mouth as you topple over the edge. At the sensation, Jungkook cums almost simultaenously as he finally lets himself go, and his moans spur you on as you quake over him and both your hips stutter at the overwhelming rush of pleasure.

You pant and tremble as the sensations run through your entire body, your eyes rolling back as you moan and mewl and say whatever the fuck is coming out of your mouth right now at the feelings. But apparently it’s not completely and utterly horseshit that you’re muttering right now because Jungkook rocks up into you, riding out his own high and groaning your name loudly as his orgasm subsides.

He laughs a little when he finishes, and the action makes him move a bit inside of you and you cringe, muttering a “ew you’re so sticky,” as you climb off of him. He stands after you, following you into the shower and flushing down the condom. Grinning and leaning against the doorway, he watches you climb into the shower and hose down your body.

“How the hell were you hooked up with your own room? And bathroom?” You mutter, using the body wash there to clean off all the sweat.

When he doesn’t respond, you turn, but a hand snakes around your waist. “Let me,” he murmurs, grabbing the soap from you and running along your back, his warm hands scratching over your skin. You let your head fall back at the sensation as he focuses a little too much on your breasts, swirling over the nipple with circular motions and gentle hands. “Again?”

“Let’s save water,” he grins and you let him.

You don’t save any water that day. It was 44 minutes too long.

“Let’s go get some food,” Jungkook whines, as you both finish, collapsing on the bed with panting breathes as you come down from your high. His hands cradle your waist as you take a moment to gather yourself before you prop yourself up.

“Huh?” You wrinkle your nose down at him, propping your arms on his chest.

He laughs, sitting up and grabbing his shirt. “You said you were hungrier earlier. And we barely ate today, after gymming in the morning. I’m starving,” he whines, pouting at you and you laugh, rolling off of his bed to grab your clothes.

“I can’t,” you whine, pouting at your belly and poking the skin there. “If coach finds out I’m eating anything other than the diet we’re limited to, she’ll kill me.”

He rolls his eyes, shrugging on a hoodie. “Oh god,” he groans, pulling on his baggy pants with easy. “You’re literally skinnier than some models that I’ve slept with.”

You glare at him when he mentions the models and he laughs guiltily. “Sorry,” he grins, “But it’s true. You can afford to eat whatever you like. C’mon, just one meal won’t hurt.”

You sigh, pulling on your leggings and a clean pair of underwear. Somehow...you ended up having a stash of underwear hidden deep within Jungkook’s drawers.

“Fine,” you grumble, but the grin on your face says otherwise. It’d been ages since you ate anything other than the planned dietary foods prepared for you by your coach and parents. This...this time wouldn’t be too bad. No one would notice.

“Where’s my phone?” You grumble, digging through the bedsheets and your bag as you search for it.

Jungkook shrugs, shaking out his hair. “I’ll meet you outside, gonna pee before we go.”

You shrug him off and he leaves, and you finally find the device and slip it into your pocket. You also grab Jungkook’s really baggy hoodie and pull it over your thin workout spandex long sleeve and leggings, relishing in the way his smell floods your senses as the warm and soft fabric tumbles down your body all the way to your mid-thigh. Grinning, you turn to open the door, calling out, “Jungkook I--”

Standing down the hall, with a packet of yogurt hanging from his lips and eyes as wide as yours, is Seokjin. His hand lingers on his doorknob, and he balks at you as you stand in Jungkook’s single room, in his clothes, and takes one glance at the messy room full of your stuff and mussed up bedsheets, and connects the dots immediately.

“Seokjin...” you breathe, eyes darting to the main entrance.

“What the fuck?” He sputters, pulling out the plastic packet from his mouth and stomping up to you. “You’re the girl that Jungkook’s been fucking?”

You bite your lip, trying to rack up any excuse, but you come up blank. “Oh my god, Seokjin, you can’t tell anyone! Not even Irene, if coach finds out she’ll kill me---”

He whisper-yells at you. “Have you even met our coach? He’ll rip our balls off one by one if he knew Jungkook was slacking off in any way.”

“Also,” he adds, frowning, “How dare you?! I thought you said he was gross.”

You grin sheepishly. “It just happened...the stress and all, and there’s a lot of time in 3 weeks for 24 hours...”

He shakes his head trying to get the image of you out of his head. “God,” he hisses, “I’ve been trying to set the two of you up for years! And all you two did was give me shit for it. Little did I know you two were already getting it on,” he glances behind him, to the vicinity of his room, whipping back around to you furiously. “And right next to my room?!”

You sigh, gripping his arm. “C’mon Seokjin I know you won’t tell, but I need you to say it out loud. Please, promise me you won’t tell.”

He sighs, groaning at you before relenting. “Alright, fine. But only because you gave me really yummy vitamins next week and medicine for my constipation.”

You grin, reaching up to hug him. When he leaves for his room, Jungkook finally emerges from the restroom, grinning. “Whatcha two talkin’ about?” He grins, cocking his chin at Seokjin’s door.

You march up to him, punching him hard. He doubles over, winded. “What the fuck Jungkook?!” you hiss, “I thought you said no one’s home before 3!”

He winces, groaning and clutching his stomach. “Jeez woman,” he croaks, “Who the fuck taught you how to punch?”

You smirk, “Get up. I’m hungry now.” He grins as he leads you to the front door. He reaches down and pulls the hood of his sweater up and around your head, bunching it low over your eyes. “Good,” he comments, doing the same to his own. “We can’t get caught sneaking out. I know of a way.” He winks and leads you down the elevator and towards the edge of the campus.

“Where?” You hiss, jogging after him.

He grins at you, pulling you alongside him with a warm hand that curls around yours. “Just trust me.” He walks straight for where the trash deposits are, and you wrinkle your nose at the smell of rotting food and boxes of cardboard strewn messily in the garage. But in the corner, you can clearly see a door marked with a red EXIT sign.

“That’s the only one that doesn’t lock, all around campus,” he explains, slowly and gently opening it and glancing around to make sure the coast is clear before jogging out with you. “The others have cameras or guards, but this one I guess was forgotten with all the other construction that was going on.”

You hmm in agreement and relish in the way Jungkook’s hand feels against yours. It’s a lot bigger, and his long fingers curl all the way to the middle of your palm, where his thumb strokes gently and warmly against your smooth skin. Feeling the way your hand is freezing cold, he pockets both your hands in his jacket pockets, nesting both your hands in the warm comforts of his down jacket.

After a bit of walking, you make it to a decently crowded pedestrian area where he leads you to a corner of the street, where a tiny snack shop sits. Your mouth waters at the sight of a couple people inside, drinking hot soups and chowing down on instant ddukbokki’s and kimbap’s and ramen bowls that made your stomach churn with anticipation.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, as Jungkook grins at you and leads you up to the stands, taking a seat in the corner. He still doesn’t let go, letting your intertwined hands rest on the plastic foldable table. “How did you find this place?” you whisper, after he orders a heaping pile of food for the both of you.

“It’s a secret passed down through the snowboarding team for generations,” he winks, grinning when the cook brings over a steaming pile of rice cakes and korean pancakes and kimbap for you both to start on. You use the skewer to grab a piece and pop it into your mouth, humming and grinning at the wonderful taste of spicy and sweet that bursts within your mouth. Moaning at the sensation, you skewer a few more pieces into your mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he explains.

“The hyungs would sneak out every chance we get. Our coach is a little...stiff and strict, but he lets us do this sort of in an apology for how strict he usually is.”

You nod, chewing and washing it down with a sip of hot soup. “And does he come with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head, using his free hand to grab a kimbap and chew on it. “Nope, he lets us have our thing. It’s like a tradition. I think this year, the team plans to come back here at least a few more times before we have to go back.”

You grin, happily finishing up the plate of rice cakes. Staring at the empty bottom in horror you gulp. “Oh shit, when did I finish this whole thing?” You frown, trying to count the calories in your head. “Fuck, I’m screwed.” Dropping your skewer, you feel tears of shame brimming in your eyes.

Jungkook just frowns and shakes his head. He calls out for another order and you protest, but he just retorts, “Even the people with the best bodies let themselves have cheat days for goodness sake. You need this, Y/N. Don’t just de-stress with sex, rejuvenate with some food too.”

You melt under his worried words and grin, sheepishly nodding when he hands you a new skewer.

“Thanks Jungkook,” you whisper, taking another sip of the delicious ramen. “I love this place.”

He grins, his hand curling around yours tighter.

Once the both of you finish eating, he takes you around a bit more to explore, and then the both of you stumble back into his dorm.

“Oh my god,” He mumbles into your neck as you unbuckle his jeans and slip a hand down his boxers. “Your hands are freezing,” he grits, licking and kissing at your neck as you pump him tightly in your fist.

You giggle, letting him undo the zipper of your jacket and slide your jumper off of your torso. His hands fall heavily on your breasts, cradling them and letting their weight fall into his palms as he presses you into his warm bed. “Yours too,” you pant, the end of your declaration hitching up into a moan as he moves his mouth down to suck harshly at your nipple before tenderly running his warm tongue over it.

“Let me warm you up,” he moans, and you remove your hand from his pants as he gets busy getting rid of yours. Once completely off and your leggings and panties thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, he hikes your thighs up over his shoulders and licks a warm stripe up your slit.

Your head falls back onto the pillows, abs tensing as Jungkook gets to work, his warm mouth and tongue laving all over your lips and slit, maneuvering in patterns that make you twist and turn like putty under his hands. Your own hands are gripping at his forearms crossed over your belly, anchoring you to the bed, nails digging into his cold skin and scratching at the nape of his neck where you hold the strands of his hair tightly.

“F-fuck,” you moan, hips jostling against his arms, “I-I can’t...Jungkook, just put it in...” you beg, core clenching as he boldly pushes you right up against the point of tipping over. But no matter how good you taste and how beautiful you sound and look right now, Jungkook also agrees that the best way to watch you cum is when you’re writhing underneath him.

“Fine,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at you.

So he licks one last cheeky stripe up against your clit, the rough pad of his tongue stimulating you enough to make you jump before he gets up, carding off his shirt and pants as he climbs up your body and meets you in the middle with a sloppy kiss.

He hastily puts on the condom and slides into you with no intrusion, settling his warm weight on yours, chest against yours and hips gently rocking into your core. You moan and clutch at him desperately, throwing your arms around his neck and curling your legs around him like a vice.

Jungkook lets out a strangled moan of your name, stuttering, “Sh-shit, don’t clench, y-you’re so fucking tight,” he grits, and when you see the way his jaw tenses in the effort to not cum too fast, you can’t help but lean up and nip teasingly at his ear and scrape your teeth against the sharp jawline.

“C’mon,” you whisper, whining as he begins rutting into you faster, “Hurry,” you moan, and Jungkook leans up, detaching from your neck to sit up a bit better and piston his hips into you, angling himself just enough so the tip of his cock slides and taps right against the spot that has your toes curling and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. You moan and pant and whine like an animal in heat as Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow, and gets this steely look on his face as he drives home.

The both of you finish, eachother’s names on the tip of your tongues and moans as you huskily whine and pant, bodies trembling with the overexertion of so much sex and the overwhelming pleasure of both your climaxes.

Jungkook collapses on you, breathing heavily, and you let him stay there, kissing small innocent, apologetic kisses into the soft flesh of your chest as he comes down from his high.

You begin giggling, as he does so, cringing a bit from the oversensitivity of the orgasm and laughing at the tickling feeling of his lips smoothing so softly over your skin.

“One more time?” He asks, and he instantly feels the way your breath hitches and shudders at the suggestion.

You smirk down at him, bringing him in for a kiss.

“Of course,” you whisper against his lips, smiling as he grins and meets you halfway again.

You didn’t go home at all that night.

tbd!

#bangtan bookclub #bts fics #bts smut #jungkook fics #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts #jungkook #writing #fics #snow and ice

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story-the-world · 5 years

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Montauk

Montauk is an interesting place. I’ve heard it described as College 2.0. It is located at the end of Long Island, and the end of the ‘Hamptons.’ If you are thinking of posh beach houses and fancy dinner parties, you will not find them here (go to East Hampton). Montauk is great for its beaches and its town. Below is my attempt to describe the ‘perfect’ weekend. Note that the timing is important, and if you don’t have the right cadence, you will be waiting in lines, or at empty bars.

Thursday:

Thursday night is when everything starts, and when most people arrive in the summer. Restaurants are generally less crowded. Take the cannonball (4:00 train from Penn) or drive. Ideally, get to Duryea’s or Montauket early, eat, and stay for sunset. Once the sun goes down, take an uber to the Point. During the summer both Duryea’s and Montauket get crowded, Duryea’s is more of a food place, Montauket more for drinks. Try to get there around 6 if you want a table and food. Other option is to eat something quick at the house and go just for drinks. The Point doesn’t get crowded til around 11, but you might as well get their early and have a few drinks. Most other places will be dead Thursday night. If you didn’t eat before, Gig shack is a good place to grab a ‘quick’ bite to eat before heading to the Point. Shagwong is also next door if you want the more ‘dive’ scene.

Friday:

Spend the day at the beach or Sole. The beach will be less crowded on Friday since the full weekend crew will still be in transit. Sole is my favorite day spot. No minimum spend and a full backyard to play games. Pool is nice and they sometimes have a band/DJ. Avoid Montauk Beach Club as it is expensive and the staff is not very welcoming. For the beach, I like near IGA. There is a big parking lot, and it is less crowded than Sloppy Tuna. Obviously, if you are there to be in the mix, go to the Sloppy Tuna beach (and the bar for mid-afternoon snacks/drinks). Ditch beach is nice too, and more of a local spot. This is where you get the surf crowd.

Friday night, order pizza or grill at your house. Don’t try to make a reservation as dinner will be expensive and take too long. Head to Ruschmeyer around 7:30 to avoid the line. Note if there is a line, it will not move.. have your cab take you somewhere else! Because you will be at Rush so early, you might want to leave around midnight (it seems to clear out around 1). Head over to the Point/Memory Motel for some late night antics and photo booths.

Saturday:

Spend the day at the beach or Sole – basically do the other one that you didn’t do on Friday. Saturday night.. same as Friday.. no dinner reservations, pizza or bbq at the house. In the afternoon you could head to Surf Lodge, however it might be difficult to get in – or have a minimum spend. I really like to go to Lynn’s Hula Hut mid-evening. Get the Hula juice and chat to Lynn! She is amazing. It is a good start to the night and they usually have a band. Saturday night is not my favorite. I would avoid Grey Lady (not sure why people like it there – its crowded, has no bathrooms, and plays lousy music/tries to get people to buy table service). Also avoid Crow’s Nest for dinner (drinks are ok, but the food is less than stellar) and Navy Beach (sunset is nice, but food is meh and again, atmosphere is bad).

If you are at Lynns, Swallow East is a good bar that usually has a band – and isn’t too crazy. Liar’s is also great to end the night as it is an old school dive (get the mud slide!). If you go to Liars on Friday, they have Karaoke! Point/Memory are always solid on a Saturday night. Avoid Surf/Rusch.

Sunday:

Sunday is the best day in Montauk – hands down. Wake up and head to a beach club (Sole is place of choice). Drink Rose, play games, and forget about work on Monday. At around 3pm, head back to change. Head to Surf Lodge by 4 to beat the line and see the band – usually they get pretty good acts – no reservations needed unless it’s a huge name. After Surf, head to Swallow East for Reggae night. If you have time, you can stop at Lynn’s for a Hula Juice on the way. Remember to take your shoes off! After Swallow, head to Liars to finish the night. You can try to head into town… but the crowd is hit or miss. Leave at 5am Monday to make it into work!

Some other tips:

as mentioned before, avoid big group dinners, they are expensive and take a long time, they also provide low value

Uber is back and the easiest way around the city, avoid the big van cabs if you can (they are a rip-off at $5 a head)

Train, drive or bus all work, but avoid the heavy traffic times if you drive/bus (4-7pm Thursday/Friday, all day Sunday)

Montauk Brewery is nice in the afternoon, but crowded, only beer and not a great atmosphere – I would generally skip

Gurney’s Beach Club is really nice, but for me, the only way its worth it is if your staying over there. It gets expensive fast – but obviously has that ‘upscale’ atmosphere

Make new friends – you’re on vacation

#montauk #storytheworld #hamptons #newyork #beachlife

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sheepsandcattle · 5 years

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Chapter 15

It’s almost ten o’clock at night and it’s only his first deal of the day, but he has a party to go to right after this and reckons he’ll get some business there too. His hopes of bringing Jordan along were shattered when he got called to cover a shift all night so he’ll have to stomach it alone.

The deal is dead easy; just some pot for a group of kids downtown. They do his head in a bit, always want him to roll the joints for them before he gets there because they’re shit at it. They never question his prices though (because they’re clueless) and they always buy in bulk (because there's about a dozen of them) so he can’t complain.

He drives to the party right after and parks in an alleyway where cuts a few lines on top of a book of roadmaps before he climbs out of his car. He’ll come back for it sometime tomorrow. Probably.

It’s a group of girls that welcome him inside. They’re gathered in the front yard, cradling beer bottles and leaning against each other as they laugh at whatever it is pretty girls laugh at.

“Curly,” Lola calls, grinning as he makes a detour from the path to approach them on the lawn.

He’s not seen her since that night he hallucinated the devil and black holes. She’d taken his number and swore to get in touch if she needed any gear from him, and now she’s hugging him like they’re best friends and introducing him to the girls around them whose names go right over his head. Doesn’t matter though ‘cause they all wanna buy tabs off him so the conversation drifts from names and “we met at”s pretty quickly.

He fills Lola in on the Jordan situation (she’s not seen him since his initial crisis and she wants to hear every detail) and then at some point he does a bit more coke with Lola’s boyfriend and wins three games of pool before his second line really catches up to him and he begins to see his heartbeat.

Lola and… Dylan? Damon? Dylan. Lola and Dylan’s bed is so fucking soft and when he sits on it he gets sucked up into the sheets and engulfed by the mattress and for a while all he sees is white and all he feels is warmth until Lola tells him to sit up and he’s forced to come up for air.

She says, “have you ever worn make-up?”

Curly leaves the room with purple over his eyes and red on his nails. He’s been wearing nail varnish since he worked at Costa (and got sick of feeling scummy for always having coffee under his nails) but the eyeshadow is all new to him.

He takes out his phone to text Jordan because he just knows he’d want to know all about it.

“Hello?”

Oh. Wrong button.

“J,” he breathes, humming as he smiles into the phone. “I’ve got eyeshadow on.”

He hears a chuckle on the other end of the line and Jordan says, “no kidding.” A pause. It’s his cue to speak but he’s busy admiring his now-red fingertips. “What colour?”

“Red,” he announces with confidence, and then, “I mean purple.”

“You get mixed up?”

“Yeah,” Curly sighs. “My nails are red.”

He hears ruffling on Jordan’s side and then a long yawn before the man asks, “you got a ride? Want me to come get you?”

“No, you’re at work.” Curly laughs because he can be so daft sometimes. “And y'sound shattered.”

“Curls, it’s 5am. Finished two hours ago.” Jordan clears his throat sleepily and Curly’s just now realising that he’s woken him up. “I’ll get a cab to you and we’ll walk back. M’not sure I’m clear to drive. We’ll get some air, ‘kay?”

5am. He’s lost some time, then.

“Yes please.” He can hear Jordan moving around again.

Curly is sat on a kitchen countertop but reaches out to nudge one of Lola’s friends as he whispers, “hey,” to get the attention of the group of girls. Lola has a hand on his chest just in time to keep him from toppling off the counter.

“Careful,” she giggles, and he has their attention now.

“My boyfriend’s coming,” he says, covering the phone with his hand so Jordan can’t hear him. “My boyfriend’s coming,” he repeats and he knows they heard him the first time but it just sounds mint, doesn’t it?

All the girls are beaming and Curly has to stop to tell them how pretty they all look. One of them asks, “when?”

He repeats the question into his phone and he’s sure Jordan says he’s around the corner.

“That was quick.”

There’s chuckling on the other end. “Not sure I’d call twenty-five minutes ‘quick’, angel,” J notes.

Hm. Losing time.

Angel.

He’s not sure when he got here, but Jordan’s wearing a black bomber jacket that Curly’s never seen before and he wants to bury his face in his neck because, although Jordan entered his sight rubbing his hands from the cold, he looks all warm and cosy and nice in there. His hair’s a bit messy and he scratches his head as he watches in amusement as Curly approaches him. God, he’s fit.

“You’re proper fit.”

Jordan just gives a clouded laugh and buries his fingers in Curly’s hair when he slumps against him. He takes a deep breath against Jordan’s shoulder, cold air rousing his consciousness a little before he leans away to point at Lola and his new (nameless) friends.

“That’s Lola,” he introduces and then gestures to J. “This is Jordan. My — Dylan! My boyfriend’s ‘ere.”

“Alright,” Jord mutters from the side of his mouth, but it’s all light-hearted as he gives him a nudge and nods towards Dylan when it’s too late and they already have his attention. “Hey,” he says a little awkwardly like he’s not sure what Curly expected him to say.

“Hey man, I’ve heard good things,” Dylan chuckles, but Curls doesn’t remember telling him about J. Well, he doesn’t remember much from tonight, really.

Jordan’s laughing too. “I bet,” he says, then turns to Curls to ask, “you had a good night?”

Curly hums.

“Ready to go home?”

He hums again, nods his head.

***

The walk back to J’s doesn’t feel like forty minutes. Walking is easy if he keeps his pace up, but every so often he slows down when he gets distracted and stumbles a little. A bit like riding a bike, he thinks.

He walks with his hands in his pockets at first (which are empty of drugs now: baggies replaced with bills that he’ll have to wait ‘til the morning to count) but soon realises that he needs Jordan’s hand for balance.

They’re three blocks away and he wants Jordan to see the eyeshadow that’s still clinging to his lids.

“Do you like it,” he asks as he sways, caught by Jordan’s right arm, which pulls him into the man’s chest as he chuckles.

“I do.” His voice isn’t sleepy like it was on the phone and Curly’s about to say this, but he remembers that he’s already spoken to him since then. Remembers that some time has passed - some lost and some not.

Jordan pushes him back a bit and holds his cheeks, examining his eyes and most likely just humouring him when he says, “we’ll have to buy more colours, doll.”

“Blue,” Curly whispers.

“Yeah, blue. And—“

“Hey, J.”

The voice isn’t either of their own, and both of their heads turn at once, Jordan’s hands dropping to his sides as Curly wobbles a bit, still smiling.

Jordan’s not smiling.

The guy’s tall but hunched in a black hood. He and Jordan seem to be having some kind of stare-down as another figure in a similar stance looms a few feet back.

Jordan asks, “what the fuck do you want,” which Curly is about to give him a good shove for (because there’s no need to be rude) but Jordan pushes him a few steps back first and he decides not to intervene.

The man takes a step towards them as Curls says, “we don’t want any trouble, mate.”

Maybe it’s because he’s off his face on coke, or because it really does happen so fast, but one minute Jordan’s arm’s guarding him, and the next it’s gone and Curly’s wrists are twisted behind his back. Jordan and one of the hooded men (Lord knows which one) are a blur of fists and faces and he’s almost too distracted to feel the hand of the bloke behind him snake its way into his pocket.

“Stop,” he says pathetically because there’s a flash of red and he doesn’t know whose blood it is - doesn’t even remember why he’s not at the party anymore until he does again. He doesn’t know who he’s talking to either, but by the time the guy behind him is cramming Curly’s money into his own pocket, Jordan’s shoved up against the wall of whatever building they’re outside and Curly doesn’t give a shit about a couple-hundred dollars anymore.

Jordan’s nose is pouring with blood and Curly tries again. He shouts, “fucking stop! What-”

The blond’s head whips to the side when another punch is thrown, Curly’s voice entirely ignored. Then Jordan’s looking down between himself and the stranger like he can’t keep his head up anymore.

Except the stranger is frozen too. Come to think of it, so is the guy behind Curly, holding his wrists a little looser now. The man trips over himself as he steps away from Jordan, who lets him go without a struggle. The hoodie steps back, palm pressed to his stomach as he stumbles, his shadow slipping away and letting the streetlight reflect off the whites of J’s eyes and blood below his nose and blade in his hand. Wait-

Jordan’s still holding the knife up, even now both men have stood down, one doubled over as the other stands shaken on the spot.

Curly’s free from his hold now. Doesn’t remember when the guy let him go but doesn’t remember how to move either.

Using the end of the bade to point between the men, Jordan spits, “give him the fucking money,” and Curly’s not sure how J saw that happen when even he almost missed it.

Regardless, the man is quick to pull the money out of his pocket and shove it into Curly’s chest as he mutters, “alright, alright.”

“And tell Nick that if I see any of you again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you, ‘right?”

They watch one man slump against the other as they stagger back up the street, weaving a little in the middle of the road but never once looking back to check they’re in the clear. Curls and Jordan didn’t want any trouble, he’d told them that.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody.”

“Who’s Nick?” He feels ill.

“Nobody.” Jordan doesn’t look himself at all. His jaw twitches as it tenses and his lip curls sourly as he catches his breath.

“You stabbed him,” he observes, shaken, and Jordan just hums as he wipes the knife on his jeans because, really, what’s there to say? “W-will he be alright?”

J spits blood onto the curb as he tucks the knife somewhere between his shirt and jeans. His nose is still bleeding, dripping onto the pavement until he pulls up his shirt, wipes it over his mouth and neck then lets the fabric fall back over his stomach again.

“He’ll be fine. Barely touched him.”

There are drops of blood on the pavement that don’t belong to Jordan though, and Curly takes a minute to let his eyes follow their trail up the street - at least as far as the orange streetlights let him see.

“Curls. I know what I did,” Jordan promises (it sounds like he’s promising) but he still doesn’t look like himself. Not because of the blood or the welt beneath his left eye, but something else that he can’t put his finger on.

He’s forcing himself not to step back as the man approaches him, but then Jordan asks, “did he hurt you,” and his eyes are soft again and Curly’s not scared.

***

This ‘Nick’ character and his two knob-head mates are still a mystery to Curly, but asking about it makes J go quiet and cold, so he stops after a while.

When they get home that night, Jordan is washing his face over the bathroom sink, shirt left in the living room somewhere while Curly sits on the couch and watches him through the open door. Jordan says, “trust me, it was nobody. I—“ He pauses to splash his skin with water once more, then turns off the tap. “I told you I owed a few favours - shit just gets personal. Those guys shoulda know better than to—“

“I’m not trying to… Have a go,” Curls says, feeling almost entirely sober now. “I just thought you said that stuff was done. I just didn’t… Expect to—“

“I know.” He’s stood in the doorway now, drying his face in a towel. “We won’t see them again.”

Jordan tells Curly that he’s an idiot to be dealing in Brockton without any way to protect himself. He gives him a switchblade, teaches him how to use it without losing a finger and shows him where to hide it without slicing his dick off.

J knows loads of mint knife tricks that put Curly’s one-handed shuffle to shame, but he refuses to teach him because “it’s not safe.” Curls reckons he really just wants to be the only one that can do tricks.

He’s all too aware that he’s taking the entire situation just a little too lightly, but supposes Jordan is right; dealing in Brockton without something to protect himself with doesn’t seem smart. Besides, J talks a big game and Curly believes him when he says those guys won’t be an issue anymore.

They collect his car from the alley the next day and Curly tries not to check on the state of the pavement through his window when they drive through the street three blocks away.

#ch #ch15 #writing #It's all gone bad it's a terrible disaster.

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