#i meant to have this done like two weeks ago my ass was procrastinating HARD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jimlingss · 4 years

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Sugar and Coffee [8]

Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You always thought you would be happy to see him again. To come face to face with the man who you miss the most — who you’ve yearned to see so much. Like reuniting with a close friend who you’ve lost contact with. Like rediscovering a piece of yourself that you had lost. But you didn’t know it would be so painful. That your heart would be so heavy. “H-hey.” “Hey.” Seokjin smiles and your heart stutters but then constricts. It’s hard to breathe. “Are you on your way to class?” You hold your books closer to your chest as if they could do anything to protect you. Your eyes sweeping over his features, trying to freshen your memories of him. You can’t recall the last time you heard the sound of his voice. “Y-Yeah. Are you?” “I’m on my way to the library to meet up with some people for a group project,” he says casually with a good-natured smile. “Oh. A group project already?” “Yeah, I know right.” Jin sighs lightly, lips falling into a slight pout. “Well it’s my last ever semester, so it’s the last push.” “Totally. I...get it.” “I should go now before I’m late. It was nice seeing you, Y/N.” You nod and without waiting a beat, he brushes past you, continuing down the hall. You hate it. The way he looked at you, talked to you so nonchalantly, how he didn’t even blink thrice. Jin was friendly, but you know him — and he treated you the way he treats strangers. There weren't any softened gazes, gentle words. None of his actions had a trace of lingering feelings. His polite smile is the same one that’s reserved for mere acquaintances. Distant. You’re no less than a stranger to him. And as you watch Jin’s backside fading down the corridor, you quickly wipe away the tears that shed down your cheeks. // “You ran into him?” You nod, toying with the hem of your sweater. “That’s great news,” Jungkook murmurs from the corner of his mouth, preoccupied with choosing a game. “Yeah, I know, right?” You're stiff, but he doesn't pay enough attention to notice. You’re sitting on the floor of Jungkook’s dorm room, knees gathered together as you watch him set up. He’s finally cleaned up after you insulted him that he was a pig living in a pigsty, and he was offended enough to clean up after himself and do his laundry. Jungkook switches on his PS4 and flops down on his small couch with the controller. He glances up at you when there’s ongoing silence and realizes he should say something more. “That means there’s hope, right? If he’s willing to talk to you and all. I know a lot of exes who would run in the other direction.” “Yeah. That’s true, I guess.” Jungkook is optimistic. “If you keep talking to him, who knows, you might get back together before you even realize.” There’s a loud knock on the door, someone’s fist banging on the surface. The boy in his gray sweatpants and black, boxy shirt sighs, gets up and opens the door. The person on the other side glares at him. “Dude, about fucking time. Was standing out there for an eternity.” “Shut up, I literally took ten seconds.” “Yea, but ten seconds we could’ve used playing. Hey, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, plopping down on the couch and stealing Jungkook’s controller. Jimin follows in, greeting you with a smile, and Taehyung and Yoongi are the last with the former harshly nudging the latter forward. “Alright, alright,” Yoongi grunts quietly and then faces you with his hands dug into his hoodie pocket. “Y/N. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour last time.” He looks less sorry and more disgruntled and reluctant, but it’s enough to amuse you. You snort. “It’s no big deal.” “Okay, cool.” Yoongi exhales and sits beside you. Taehyung shakes his head but redirects his attention to Jimin when he steals his favourite controller. “Hey, hey, hey, paws off, bro.” “What?” “That’s mine.” “Who says?” “I wrote my name at the back in pencil. Look. See?” “You wrote on my controller?” Jungkook is outraged, snapping into their argument. In the meanwhile, Yoongi scrolls through his phone and notices you’re blankly staring at Jungkook's old flat screen — the one he stole from his parent’s home months ago and somehow set it up here. “I meant it.” “What?” “I know it looked like Taehyung made me,” Yoongi mumbles, “Which he did. But I meant to apologize anyway. Eventually. I know I’m an ass.” “You’re an honest one,” you admit with a small smile. If there was anyone who was going to be frank and truthful, it would be Yoongi. He won’t sugar coat it, won’t string pretty words together to make you feel better, so that’s why you pick him to inquire, “Can I ask you a question, Yoongi?” “Sure.” “Do you think I’ll ever be able to get back together with Jin?” “No.” His gaze connects with yours. “You won’t. Usually people break up for a reason and that reason always stands.”

Two weeks pass by as you ignore the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. You overlook it like an assignment on your desk that needs to be done or like that messy drawer you should clean out but keep procrastinating on. And it’s easy to distract yourself when the entire school is stirred. Of course it would be. After all, the most competitive holiday was coming up. “What are you going to make for Valentines?” “Me?” You blink. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it yet….” The atmosphere hyped — even the dining hall is louder, the air buzzing. The holiday simply dedicated to love has long been replaced by alumni years ago and became a competition. After all, this was the place where everyone could make sweets after all. No longer was Valentine chocolates simply melting chocolate from the store and pouring them into molds — every single person here can properly judge the quality, taste, texture, flavour, and the presentation. According to rumours, the tradition started between three people, specifically when a girl told her two potential suitors that she would become the Valentine of whoever baked better. It sounds like some ridiculous Shakespearean tragedy, but as people went head to head to win the affections of their crushes — it essentially evolved into a competition. And at this point, it doesn’t matter who gives it to who. It’s who bakes it better. “I’m still debating if I want to do raspberry possets or raspberry religieuse,” Taehyung hums, chin resting in his propped up hand, and he turns to his side. “Which one do you like, Yoongi?” “Why the fuck do you care what I like?” “Well obviously because I’m going to make it for you,” he giggles. Yoongi glares. “Fuck off.” “Who else am I supposed to give it to? You have no one, I have no one.” “What about Jimin?” you ask, trying to hold back laughter with said brunette. “He has his mom.” “Hey,” Jimin whines, “I have the Valentine’s Day fundraiser at the hospital this year too.” “So you’re not going to make anything for your mom?” he deadpans. “Well, no.” Jimin pouts. “I’m going to make her red velvet cupcakes.” “Don’t make fun of him,” you chide Taehyung and turn to the other. “That’s really cute, Jimin.” Jimin grins, eyes crinkling into half moons. “Don’t worry, Taehyung can say whatever he wants. He’s just jealous my mom’s the best. She raised me all on her own and I wouldn’t be here without her.” “Okay, I’ll admit she’s really nice,” Taehyung has a dreamy expression. “I miss her warm hugs.” “That’s weird,” Jimin deadpans, pleasant smile switching into a face of comical disgust. “Don’t talk about my mom like that, dude.” You laugh and look over at the sleepy man lazily chewing on his mac and cheese. It’s always funny to watch Yoongi eat. He looks physically pained to chew and swallow — you wonder if he would blend all of his food to just drink it if he could. “Are you going to make anything, Yoongi?” “No. Who would I give it to?” He ignores Taehyung when he exclaims ‘me’. You direct your attention to Hoseok and he shrugs. “I might...make lemon and poppy seed cupcakes or strawberry rhubarb shortbread bars.” “For who?” Jungkook asks, brows raised. “Uh, no one.” But it’s obvious that the answer is too suspicious, so he gives in with a sigh. “I owe Y/N’s friend, Aeri, a favour, so I’ll probably make something for her.” “Ooh, I haven’t heard you talk about Y/N’s friend before.” Taehyung leans in closer, eyes glistening. “Shut up,” Hoseok quips. “What about you, Y/N?” “I...haven’t decided if I will or not. Maybe I’ll make something for Jin.” Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, brow cocking, and you stare back at him blankly. Jimin catches the quick exchange and intercepts. “You should tell Jungkook to make you his chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes.” “Holy fuck, I remember those!” Taehyung slaps the table, startling both you and Jungkook. “Those was so fucking delicious, I thought I was going to cream my pants when I ate them. I can still taste it.” He slurps up the spit that’s accumulated in his mouth. Jungkook’s nose wrinkles. “No. It’s too much work to make that.” Taehyung bats his lashes. “You wouldn’t make it for us?” “That’s an even harder no.” “Psh. Valentine’s Day hater.” “Fuck off. It’s not my fault that the holiday is stupid.” “You just hate it because you’re alone.” You pat your friend on the back. “It’s okay, Jungkook. You’ll find love someday.” “Okay, fuck you too,” he spits without much malice, making Yoongi smirk. “Jungkook just knows his small package can’t satisfy any man or woman.” Yoongi’s insult rouses laughter from everyone and the man being grilled has his brows shot to his hairline. “For your information, I have a substantial size and I’m probably bigger than everyone here. Especially you, Mr. five foot nine.” You blanch. “Gross.” But while Yoongi doesn’t seem injured by the retort, Jimin’s the one who’s sitting straight and he whines, “Why do you have to bring height into this?” They ignore him in favour of Taehyung’s questioning, “Really? Bigger than everyone here?” “Okay fine.” Jungkook points at Taehyung. “Except you.” You look between the pair of them. “Did you guys have a dick measuring contest or what?” “We will not speak of the past,” Jungkook deadpans, making you laugh even more. // You know that you shouldn’t. With what Yoongi’s told you, with what you know yourself, you shouldn’t go out of your way to do something so unnecessary. You shouldn’t put your heart on your sleeve to get hurt again when it’s not going to be worth it. But in your life, there've been a thousand shouldn’ts and you’ve always grasped onto the one should. It never hurts you to try, and that’s how you’ve made it this far. “Hey, Jeon.” You catch up to him. Jungkook’s legs are unbearably longer than yours and when he walks fast it puts you out of breath within seconds. Luckily, he sees you and has the decency to slow down. “What?” “I need your help.” Jungkook’s steps slow even more until he outright stops in the middle of the hallway. He looks so apprehensive, you have an urge to slap that expression off his face. “Hey! It’s not like I’m not going to ask you to kill someone for me!” “Yeah, well, the last time you asked for a favour, we destroyed a kitchen trying to temper chocolate. I’d rather you kill me, thank you very much.” “Pretty please? Promise it’s not bad.” “Ew, ew. Don’t look at me like that and stop pouting, you’re not cute.” You frown at him. “Look it’s not a huge, huge thing, promise.” “What is it?” “Well, you’re Jungkook, World’s Best Chocolatier, right?” You nudge him with your elbow and it only makes him more suspicious with how you’re thickly laying down the praise. “And you know chocolate hates me. I definitely don’t know about it as well as you do either, so I need you to bestow your gifts onto me—” “What is it, lady? Get a move on! I don’t have all day.” “Can you help me make something for Jin?” Jungkook pauses. He stares at you. Maybe his brain finally died — not like there is anything to die considering it’s always been a little on the empty side. But then he finally opens his mouth. “What are you planning?” “Just something simple. Like truffles. What do you think?” Jungkook hesitates, then he looks at you. “Fine.” “Really?” “Yeah, yeah.” He waves his hand away, but you grin at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right, Jungkook?” “Yeah, well, it’s something I never really signed up for,” your best friend mutters and continues walking while telling you that you’ll owe him and that means more notes from multiple lectures. But it’s worth it. On the fourteenth, right on Valentine’s Day, you meet with Jungkook. He audibly sighs when he sees you tie up the back of your apron. “What?” “Nothing. I just can’t believe I’m spending Valentine’s with you.” “I thought you didn’t care about the holiday.” “I don’t. But that still doesn’t mean this isn’t lame. Whatever. The quicker we get this done, the quicker I can leave and avoid all this.” He motions around, but you know what he means. Love is in the air and it’s sickening — couples were holding hands, kissing each other on the tips of their noses, rubbing their cheeks against one another, dialing up the PDA to an uncomfortable amount. But you can’t blame them. You and Seokjin were once like that. “Do you know how to make ganache?” “Do I know how to make ganache,” you mimic him mockingly. “Of course I do! What am I, an idiot?!” “Well, you didn’t know how to temper chocolate so you tell me.” You glare at him. You would mouth off but can’t risk him storming out. The two of you gather the eight ounce semi-sweet chocolate, a half cup of whipping cream, cocoa powder and some vanilla. Jungkook helps you heat the cream to a simmer in a small saucepan, looking over your shoulder at every step along the way. While you’d usually mind the way he’s intruding in your personal bubble, you don’t want to get anything wrong. “Make sure it doesn’t burn.” “It’s not going to burn.” “You said that last time.” You snap. “Keep bringing up last time and this will be the last time you step into the kitchen, Jeon.” A second later, you’re begging Jungkook not to leave. But thankfully, he has enough mercy and lets you off with a warning. The pair of you continue making the ganache, placing the chocolate in a bowl before pouring the cream and adding the vanilla to it. You allow it to stand for a few minutes before stirring it into a smooth, deep mixture. You place the ganache in the fridge for half an hour to chill. In the meanwhile, you clean up the mess and wash whatever dishes you have. Jungkook, on the other hand, shows you Yoongi’s reaction of Taehyung proposing to him with some cupcakes in front of campus in which the former man straight out walks away. Jimin who’s filming is giggling hard enough that the camera is unsteady, but his laughter is infectious and makes the both of you grin. Jungkook says he’s glad he wasn’t there lest Taehyung turned to him and started to declare his fake affections and cause a crowd to gather. Apparently it’s happened before. When the ganache is ready, Jungkook helps you roll it into balls and dust with cocoa powder. You pull out a box you had prepared to place them in, and you could not be prouder when it’s complete. It looks like a product that you could buy in-store. Simple yet elegant. “All done.” “All done,” you repeat after him, viewing your final product. Chocolate doesn’t hate you so much when you’re with Jungkook, you realize. “He’ll love it.” “Yeah….” You can imagine it — calling out Jin’s name. He’d spin around, regard you with his surprise. You’d extend your arms to give him the box. You’d try to show through this small gesture that you still love him, but you wouldn’t speak the words in case the moment would be ruined. But with your courage mustered, you’d tell him that you miss him in your life. That you don’t want to be strangers anymore. Whether that means remaining friends or being lovers again. But you know that it’s just your fantasy. A delusion — your optimistic imagination running wild with the semblances of hope still left within you. A sweet dream you would have in your slumber only to wake up to reality. The grief of your heartbreak morphed into a wishful thinking. The image and scenario you’ve constructed in your mind is simply part of a chapter in your life that would never happen. “He wouldn’t take it,” you whisper. It's a truth that’s hard to face, that you’ve been running from and turning yourself blind to. But you know Seokjin. After nearly two years together, you know the kind of polite smile he gives to strangers. You know how he treats acquaintances. You know when he’s being distant, how he acts when things don’t matter to him anymore. And you know that— “He wouldn’t….” He would never take this. He would never accept the chocolates you’ve made on Valentine’s. You would never be able to muster the courage to tell him how much you miss him. And he would never agree to being friends after your extensive history together. Your head lowers, and tears drip down your cheeks. Jungkook is rendered speechless but you feel his hand on your shoulder. He squeezes comfortingly. You sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and you take a truffle to throw into your mouth. You chew in your cheek and look at Jungkook with your reddened, teary eyes. “I-If he won’t eat it, we should.” That’s how you end up on the floor of the kitchen with Jungkook beside you. The two of you are leaning against the kitchen island, hidden away from the window of the door and any intrusive eyes peering through. The tips of your fingers are stained with melted chocolate — the fruits of your labour gone in an instant. The realization sinks in. After months of what you’ve tried to keep a hold on it. Having hoped aimlessly that you could change this back around. What had shattered into sand and slipped between your fingertips, but you tried to catch it again. It hits you in an instant. Harder than it ever has. “It’s really over, isn’t it, Jungkook?” you ask in a murmur, in a broken voice. “It’s over.” The relationship ended. Any form of a relationship with Seokjin is gone forevermore. Jungkook turns his head, gazing at your profile. He pats you on the back. He’s learnt long ago that he wasn’t very good at speaking, but that his words don’t mean as much as his actions do. So in silence, Jungkook eats the truffles with you. It’s not bad, he muses internally. You’re getting better at chocolate despite how you never had a knack for it. Well, technically he made them but whatever, your effort still means something. He chews and keeps to himself how the chocolate truffle strangely tastes sweet and bitter, like both sugar and black coffee.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook reader insert #jungkook as a cutie baking boy who doesn't know to deal with emotions #and oc as a person who has too many emotions lol #Y'ALL no spoilers but this is the turning point #cue the song past the point of no return

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kjhmyg · 4 years

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rough edges // v-day scenario (m)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: college au, boyfriend jk warnings: smut, sex, public sex, drinking, unprotected sex word count: 8k (lol)

a/n: honestly just an excuse for me to write some smut. as promised, the valentines’ day scenario that was meant to be posted a month ago but i’m a chronic procrastinator. idk if this is good, i contemplated a lot before posting this. please wear a condom. (a scenario from Rough Edges. but it’s fine to read without the backstory too)

❀

“Oh fuck,” You gasp, holding on to the table in front of you. You hear Jungkook chuckle, then he’s leaning in to kiss your shoulder from behind.

“That’s right baby.” He whispers against your ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You chew on your bottom lip, refusing to answer. Sweat drips down your cleavage and you close your eyes, trying to reach the release you’re looking for. Jungkook’s hips move in a slow rhythm against you, grinding into you while his hands cup your breasts over the fabric of your dress. It’s warm and stuffy in here. The absence of air moving in and out of the room makes it harder for you to breathe. It doesn’t help when Jungkook presses his chest against your back and you feel the heat radiating from his body.

Jungkook doesn’t get a reply. He grabs your face and turns your attention to him, “What’s wrong, princess?” You stifle a whine at the pet name. “You’ve been ignoring me all day.”

Again, silence. Instead, you roll your hips back, earning a groan from him. He lets you continue, pulling up your dress and bunching up the fabric above your hips to watch you fuck yourself against him. “Oh⎯” You sigh, bending over to get the right angle. The table acts as a support, holding on tight as you move back and forth, slamming your ass against his hips each time. Jungkook grunts and thrusts forward to meet you halfway.

He takes over when you slow down, ramming into you ruthlessly. “Mmff-uck, don’t stop,” you mutter, bringing your fingers to your clit, rubbing in circles. You feel the buildup reaching its peak and with the way your body tenses up, Jungkook can tell you’re close. He bottoms out with one deep thrust and you snap, mouth parting and body shaking as you reach your climax. He continues his movements in slow strokes as you let your body drop onto the table, riding out the wave, soft mewls escaping you.

Jungkook hovers above you, stroking the side of your face and tucking a curl behind your ear as you catch your breath. He kisses your temple, and you would melt at the tender gesture, if you weren’t mad at him. Once you can muster up the energy to lift yourself up, you place a hand against his abs and push him away till he slips out.

Still hard and covered in traces of you, Jungkook stands in his spot, watching as you step away. Without sparing him a second glane, you start cleaning yourself up. He’s confused, “Wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“I’m late for track and field.” You say curtly.

“But...I’m not done.”

He hurries after you when you get ready to leave, grabbing you by the wrist. You look back at him with a frown, “What?”

“Did you just use me for sex? Cause that’s kinda hot.” You scoff unbelievably, rolling your eyes at him. You glance down, and he thinks you might change your mind and stay, but instead you reach over to grab your underwear scrunched up in his hand before abruptly leaving.

“Wait! What did I do?” Jungkook calls out, pulling his pants back up. He struggles and only manages to stick his head out the door, but you’re already down the hallway and turning into the stairs.

❀

After two whole days of avoiding Jungkook, you’re glad he’s making things easier for you by not chasing after you all around campus today. It seems strange that he isn’t, but you appreciate the peace. It took Jungkook the whole afternoon to figure out why you were so mad at him. He only found out when he got home that same day, when he reached for his phone which he’d left on his table over the weekend while he was at work.

“Crap.” He muttered to himself seeing the missed calls and texts you’d sent him three nights ago. “Valentine’s day!”

Since then, he’d sent you a string of apologies over text when you wouldn’t answer his calls. He waits for you outside your classes when the timing doesn’t clash with his, but you manage to slip away every time, determined to get away. You don’t plan on avoiding him forever. Just maybe until you don’t feel like stabbing him every time you see him.

You’re fishing for your keys outside the apartment when the door opens. “Oh.” Hana stops in her tracks, surprised to see you home so early. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, I skipped some project meetings. Really sleepy.” You smile, giving her a half-hug.

“Okay.” Hana says, nodding. “I’m gonna go...run some errands.”

“Sure.” You reply without thinking much, not realising the smile she’s biting back.

Heading straight for your room, you let your bag fall by the side of your door and shut the door behind you. You’re just about to unzip your jeans and slip into something more comfortable, until your eyes meet another pair of eyes staring at you from your bed.

“What the hell.” You mutter.

Jungkook sits up from where he lies on your bed, crossing his legs and smiling at you. “Hey beautiful.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You gasp after a sudden realisation. “Hana…”

“I just need to talk to you for like a minute.” He says.

“Okay.” You shrug, looking at your watch. “One minute starts-”

“Babyyy,” he whines, crawling off your bed. You fit nicely between his legs when he pulls you in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Come on, hear me out.”

You cross your arms and stay quiet, looking at the floor. His hands rest on your hips and he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He sighs. “I forgot all about the dinner we were supposed to have on Valentine’s Day. I went to work and I left my phone at home by accident so I didn’t see your calls or texts until Monday, after school. You were so angry and I couldn’t figure out why.” He chuckles. “Then I got home and saw all the missed calls and texts and I-”

You’re biting the inside of your cheek and looking at anywhere but him. But he doesn’t miss the tears welling up in your eyes before you can blink them away. “Oh fuck.” Taehyung didn’t prepare him for a crying girlfriend situation when he went to him for advice. “I don’t really know what else to say...I’m just really sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying!” Your curse inwardly when your voice shakes towards the end and you use the sleeves of your sweater to soak up the tears.

“Baby,” he says gently, cupping your face. “I’m really sorry. I love you so much, you know I wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you. Please forgive me?”

He pulls you in closer and leans his head against your tummy. You sigh. A part of you wants him to hug you till you feel better but the other half wants to kick him out of the apartment. You had spent weeks planning the perfect date for Valentine’s. Everything was set. All Jungkook had to do was show up. But he didn’t.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he lifts his head up to look at you again. “A teacher walked in on me after you stormed out. And now I have two weeks worth of detention.”

A tiny smile plays on your lips and he giggles, nose scrunching up when he grins. You go weak when he does that. “...is that for me?” you ask quietly, eyeing a bar of chocolate placed next to him. He almost forgets about it until you bring it up. He nods, handing you the bar of Snickers.

“It’s a peace offering,” he says, unwrapping it for you. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Thank you.” You say, nodding.

He smiles wide when you start eating and draws you in closer, leaving no space between your bodies. Pressing against your lower back, a hand positions itself under your thigh and he lifts it over his own leg, doing the same on the other side so that you’re straddling him. Being the whipped girlfriend that you are, you sure have missed him underneath all the anger.

He takes a deep breath against your chest and hums, missing the way you smell. It’s hard to keep a straight face when he does that. "Do you feel better now?"

You shake your head. "My boyfriend stood me up on Valentine's Day. What do you think?"

"Okay fair," he presses his lips together. "At least you're talking to me again."

You shrug, "I might change my mind in a few minutes."

"Don't. I miss you." He says. "I'm sorry…"

"I waited for hours," you say quietly, putting down the chocolate. Then you sigh dramatically, "I even wore matching underwear cause I thought we'd have bomb sex all night."

“Okay but we could still do that though! We’re already in bed.”

“No thanks.”

“Can I make it up to you?” He asks, “How about a date tomorrow afternoon?”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him. He cocks a brow at you questioningly. “Oh, you’re serious?” You ask with a hint of amusement in your tone that offends him for some reason.

“Why not?”

“Well, I mean...” You say, shrugging. He frowns, not liking this confession. “We always go to the same diner. Either that or take out. Then we eat in your car. Not that I’m complaining or anything, I do like those dates with you. But like...my date was way better.”

“I can plan a date! A proper one.” He argues, suddenly feeling challenged. The look of pity you give him makes him even more determined. “Stop giving me that look!”

“What look?”

“That⎯ ugh.” He grunts. He doesn’t understand what just happened. How did he come here to apologise to you, only for him to end up getting mad instead. Are you doing this on purpose to get back at him? Does he really suck at planning dates? He shakes his head. “Tomorrow. You’ll see. I’ll come and pick you up.”

“Okay, fine.” You say.

“Fine!”

You push yourself off him and sit on the bed, enjoying the rest of your chocolate, watching as he storms off. He disappears out your door for a good two seconds before sticking his head back in, “Just to be clear, is that bomb sex still on the table for tonight or…?”

“Get out.”

❀

“Now, before you say I told you so⎯”

“I knew it!” You giggle before he can defend himself and he watches as you let yourself fall into his arms, laughing. “Oh Jungkook. Don’t be so ambitious next time.” You say, patting his chest.

You give him props for dressing up, showing up in a nice button down shirt that fits him just nicely. You have on a cute yellow dress you wore the night of Valentine’s, and just seeing you in that dress makes him wish he could turn back time and make his past self show up at your door that night.

“It’s not my fault,” he reasons. “The places I wanted to take you to don’t take reservations on the day of.”

“Aw, it’s okay.” You reassure him when you enter the car. “We can just go get ramen or something.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, I kinda figured this would happen.” You laugh and he pouts, starting the engine. “Plus, I still have the upper hand so I’m just gonna enjoy this.”

“Damn...getting stood up changed you.” He says and you snort, playfully hitting him on the arm With one hand on the steering wheel, he reaches for yours with the other. “We’re gonna have a good time, I promise.”

“It’s always a good time when we’re together.” You giggle, squeezing his hand in yours.

“Can you do me a favour?” He lets your hand go and reaches for something in the compartment between you. He hands you what seems like a piece of black cloth at first. When you unravel it, you realise it’s a blindfold. “Can you put that on until we arrive?”

“Aren’t we just getting ramen?”

“Yeah but...just pretend it’s a surprise so I don’t feel bad.”

You do as he says, even if you do find it redundant. The ride there seemed a little longer than usual, but Jungkook claims it’s only because you have your eyes covered and you can’t see where you are. Taking his word for it, you don’t think much about it after that. He helps you out of the car and through the doors of a building. But something doesn’t add up. “Jungkook, why don’t I smell ramen?”

“We’re just making a pit stop.”

“Hm.” You wonder. It’s hard not to be suspicious when you know you’re not where you’re supposed to be. The sound of an elevator door opening has you raising your brows. He guides you inside where you lean against the walls. Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in closer and look up to where you guess his face would be. “Why do I feel a plot twist coming up?”

He chuckles, trapping you against the wall with his body pressing on yours. “Don’t worry, whatever it is, you’re safe with me.”

You smile, smoothing your hands over his chest. The strained buttons of his shirt are screaming for help. "To be honest, we should just forget about dinner. Seeing you in this outfit is good enough for me.”

"And you tell me this now?"

Leaning in to the side of your face, you can feel from his breath against your skin, how he moves from your ear down to your neck, planting soft kisses there. He chuckles when you gulp, noting the goosebumps that form on your skin and the way your pretty glossy lips parts.

Regretfully, he pulls back at the sound of the elevator reaching. Hugging his arm, you walk alongside him until he comes to a stop and tells you to stay put. His footsteps recede and you wait patiently without any clue of what’s about to happen. It feels slightly cooler than before, and you can hear sounds of the city, which you find odd considering you’re indoors. At least you think you are. Jungkook looks back at you from where he’s standing and smiles, then straightens himself up.

“Y/N.” He calls out. “You can remove the blindfold now.”

“Okay.” You slip it off carefully, taking a peek with one eye first, then the other. “Oh my god Jungkook...”

He definitely did not take you out for ramen. Jungkook stands a few feet away, with a bouquet of roses in hand. Behind him, you see a single table set in the middle of a beautiful rooftop restaurant. Decorated with fairy lights above and with a view of the skyline, overlooking parts of the city, it takes you a while to process it all, wondering if this is even real. “Happy belated Valentine’s Day.” Jungkook says.

He walks over and hands you the flowers, which you accept warmly. “Thank you. They’re lovely.” You say quietly and he grins, taking your hand in his, leading you to the table. It’s the only table, you realise, that is set up while the others remain empty. You take a seat as Jungkook pulls out the chair for you and pushes it back in. Across from you, he takes his place. “Why is it empty? Is it just us?”

“I rented out the place for this afternoon.” He says casually. You wait for him to tell you he’s joking.

“You did what?” You look at him in surprise.

He simply shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. “I have connections. I pulled some strings and called in a favour.”

A waiter comes by just then, stopping you from asking any further. He pours wine into your glasses, then informs you that your meals are being prepared and will be served soon. You haven’t even taken a look at the menu, much less ordered anything, so you figure Jungkook must have sorted that out. He winks at you as he takes a sip of his wine.

To your surprise, he made some pretty good choices. Of course, you can’t go wrong when you get a little of everything. Literally. He couldn’t decide on a main course, so he requested the chef whip up small portions of food from a list he prepared. The table is filled up with plates of food which you shared between the two of you. They served risotto, steak, pasta, black bean noodles, spicy chicken and meatball spaghetti. All of which Jungkook knows you like.

He was especially excited for the spaghetti and he tells you why, “We can do the thing, like in that movie you like.” Jungkook says and you don’t get what he’s talking about, until he places one end of the spaghetti in his mouth and using his fork, holds the other end out for you.

“Are you talking about the Lady and the Tramp?” He shrugs, gesturing for you to join him.

“Oh god…” You mutter to yourself, laughing as you take the other end in your mouth. You meet each other halfway, where the spaghetti cuts off and your lips touch. A tiny moment passes where you simply stare into each other’s eyes, then he swoops in for a second kiss. You sink back into your seat shyly, hoping that the staff hadn’t seen that little exchange.

The colour of the sky slowly changes as you’re enjoying your meal. You don’t even realise how quickly time passes until the fairy lights turn on. Against the backdrop of the skyline, Jungkook looks amazing sitting right in front of you. He feels the same about you, watching you fondly as you talk about why you love looking at the sky and how pretty everything looks from up here. You’re rambling like you always do when you’re excited but he doesn’t mind.

While you’re having ice cream for dessert, Jungkook rests his head against his hand and stares at you with a dreamy look across his face. “Jungkook, stop that…” You say quietly, looking at him from under your lashes. He ignores you because he loves seeing you flustered, so you try to ignore him but he isn’t subtle, even taking out his phone to take a photo of you as you eat.

When you’re done, Jungkook walks with you to the parapet, where you get the nicest view of the city. The sun is setting and the lovely golden hue is starting to fade into cool darkness. You lean against Jungkook’s arm and spend some time taking in the sights. He reaches over your shoulder after a while, so you lean on his chest and he rests his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry for missing our date.” He says after a while. “I know you put in a lot of effort, you cooked the food and everything.”

“I did.” You nod, looking at the roads below. “You know, I don’t really care for Valentine’s Day. But I thought I’d do something nice for the fun of it. So...yeah that really blew up in my face.”

“I'm so sorry.” He says, with a pained expression. “You know I would’ve come to you in a heartbeat if I remembered. Work has just been so hectic lately, I got distracted.”

“It’s okay,” you say with a shake of your head, “ I get it. Work’s important.”

“No, no. Baby listen.” He sighs, turning to face you and holds both your hands in his. “I don’t want you to think that you’re not important to me. You are. You, are the most important thing in my life.”

“I am?” You ask, feeling giddy and he responds with a nod. A smile makes its way onto your face and he places a kiss on the back of your hand. “It’s really alright Jungkook. I understand, you’re only human. I’m sorry too, for saying your dates suck. I actually really like those dates because I get to be with you, which is enough for me.” His heart swells at your words. “And, you really came through today.”

“Anything for you.” He grins with a smug look on his face.

You pull him into a hug, resting the side of your head on his chest while you look at the view. “This is amazing. Thank you for doing this.”

“So,” with a finger to your chin, he lifts your head up to look at him. “I’m forgiven, right?”

You sigh, running your hands down his chest. Then you stand on your toes and kiss him. “Almost.”

“Almost?” He asks as you wrap your arms around his neck.

You nod, smiling against his lips. “We just need to consummate this reconciliation.”

“Right,” he grins, “and just in case I have no idea what that means….”

You giggle and kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss until he feels your hand sliding down his front, down his chest and to his crotch. You smile giddily when he pulls away from the kiss, watching you with curious eyes. This isn’t something you would usually do in public where others can see you. It’s what he would do. But not you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, glancing over at the restaurant staff. They’re busy setting up for the incoming dinner crowd, thankfully, and not paying any attention to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly when you squeeze his member over his pants. You don’t reply, and only bite your bottom lip in response. He narrows his eyes on you. “Are you drunk?”

“Am I gonna get some love from you tonight or what?” You ask, whispering against his lips.

He wants to laugh, but the look you’re giving him tells he shouldn’t be wasting anymore time. Interlacing your fingers together, he walks ahead, grabbing the flowers you left on the table and giving thanks to the staff and tips them on the way out. Reaching the lift landing, you stick to him like glue as you wait for it to arrive. Your lips hover over each other’s, neither making the first move. With a giggle, you break the staring contest first and appreciate the way his shirt hugs his figure nicely, feeling up his abs underneath. He can’t decide if he’s more entertained or turned on by this side of you.

“You’re so sexy,” you mutter to yourself, but loud enough for him to catch. “You should wear shirts more often.”

“Suggestion noted.” He says, nodding.

When the elevator arrives, he pushes you in, presses the button and pins you against the side. A hand moves to cup one side of your face, holding it up so he can kiss you. It’s gentle at first, until you’re biting on his bottom lip and sucking on it. He breathes hard, “Lucky for us, we won’t have to wait till we get home.”

“We don’t? You wanna do it here?” You ask, already unbuttoning the first button on his shirt.

“Don’t tempt me.” He says, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves in on your neck, looking for that sweet spot. His search is cut short when the elevator stops on a level that’s not the lobby. He helps you back on your feet, then leads you down a hallway of apartments. He stops in front of one and keys in a code, gesturing for you to enter as the door clicks open.

"This is yours?" You ask, taking a look around the apartment. "It's nice."

You doubt it’s his. It’s well decorated with expensive looking furniture and decor accessories, but lacks any signs of having lived in.

"Not mine. Just borrowing for tonight." He says, locking up.

"Wait a minute," Your eyes land on the dining table which has a black backpack on it, that looks exactly like yours. You step closer to take a look, "Isn’t this mine?"

"Yup." He smiles, all smug. "Hana helped me pack and bring it over earlier.” You laugh. Of course she did. Inside, you find the clothes she’s packed for you to sleep in as well as something you could wear the next day. She’s amazing. Although, you do need to have a talk with Hana about how she’s supposed to be on your side and not Jungkook’s. She’s somehow developed a soft spot for Jungkook and you’re jealous because she should have a soft spot for you instead.

Jungkook heads for the kitchen and grabs your hand as he goes, finding two glasses and a bottle of wine sitting on the island. He pours some into the glasses and hands you one. You rest with your back against the island top and take a sip, watching Jungkook with alluring eyes.

“Let’s talk about how you walked out on me the other day, hm?” He asks, voice gentle. Moving in closer, his arms rest on both sides of you, trapping you in place.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smile. “I’m a good girl, you know.”

“Are you?” He licks his lips and your knees go weak.

You dodge when he moves in to kiss you, just to mess with him. His eyes go dark but before he makes another move, you duck under his arm, making a run for it. Halfway across the living area, you stop and turn, waiting for a reaction. There’s a wicked smile on his face; one that shows how serious he is, but he’s willing to play your game. When he starts coming after you, you giggle and run straight for the first room down the hall. But he’s quick and before you can shut the door, he’s squeezing through the gap and blocks you from doing so.

His strength is no match for you, easily pushing the door open so he can enter. You rush to get away before he can get his hands on you; which ironically, is what you really want. Standing by the foot of the bed, you wait, with your hands behind your back and head tilted to the side with a playful smile on your face. He decides to watch you, awaiting your next move.

Perhaps he underestimates what a few glasses of wine does for your confidence, you think. Slowly, your hands start undoing the zipper of your dress. He reacts ever so slightly to your bold move, forgetting how you can see the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he takes a gulp. It’s a painfully long wait, being able to only hear the sound of the zipper as it moves down, until it finally comes to a stop. You slip off a side of the sleeve over your shoulder, and then the other, letting the dress slip to the ground, leaving you in nothing but the necklace he gave you around your neck. “I skipped the matching underwear. Hope you don’t mind.”

His lips are pursed and he nods in approval as he steps closer, eyes roaming your body. Hands finding place on your waist, his thumb presses against your flesh and he watches as it sinks in. As eager as he is, he can’t help but feel something tugging at his heart when he looks at your face. Sure, you’ve had some drinks but behind the lust in your eyes, he sees you, the person who looks at him with the same endearment he looks at you with. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You look good too, but why do you still have clothes on?” You ask, quickly undoing the rest of his buttons.

“I’m trying to have a romantic moment here.” He shakes his head and laughs. He will never let you live this down. “Who knew you were a horny drunk…”

“I’m not drunk,” you pout. “Just a little tipsy.”

"I like her." He smiles, tracing your lips with his finger. "She's…spunky."

"You like her more than sober me?" You peel off his shirt and he lets it fall to the ground.

"I like all of you. Everything." He touches every part of you within reach as he holds you close, bringing you in for a kiss. You slip your tongue into the kiss and refuse to let him pull away, trapping him in your arms. But he's too strong, easily tearing your arms from around his neck. He climbs into bed with you in his arms and legs wrapped around his middle.

You’re straddling him at first, fighting his tongue for dominance until he finally cups your jaw and pulls you away. He adjusts your position, turning you around in his lap so that your back is pressed to his chest. You let him spread your legs, using his own to keep them apart and his fingers go straight to your cunt. It has you gasping at the touch. No time is wasted as he runs his fingers up and down your folds, taking his time to explore it. It doesn’t come as a surprise to see how wet you already are. He’s barely touched you but you’re slick enough to allow him two slide two fingers in. Your thighs threaten to close at the intrusion but he pushes them apart, sliding his fingers in and out of you easily. “Listen to that,” he says in your ear. The sound of your wetness gets louder as his fingers go faster. “You’re so dirty. Look at how wet you are already.”

You bite back a smile, slightly embarrassed but not sorry. He slips in another finger, making you sigh, yearning for more. His fingers move in a gentle rhythm at first, and you buck your hips forward, trying to get as much inside you as possible. When he removes them, you whine in protest and watch him with pleading eyes. Jungkook smiles, then goes back to running his fingers over your folds, this time giving more attention to your clit. Dropping your head back, leaning on his shoulder, you grab on to his arms, sinking your nails into his skin.

“Look at this mess.” He clicks his tongue, teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger, now dripping in your juice. You breathe hard, and almost cry out in annoyance when he slips only one finger in, up till the first knuckle just to watch you squirm.

“Stop teasing!” You huff, looking up at him. “Fuck me.”

Three fingers slip back into you without warning and you squirm, pushing up against him. “Shh, baby. Be a good girl and I’ll give it to you. Okay?”

You nod obediently, stifling back a whine. Still inside you, he lets you kiss him, “Please.”

How could he say no to those beautiful eyes? He removes his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking off every last trace of you as you watch him hungrily. The bed dips slightly when he moves to his feet to remove his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His underwear barely does its job of keeping his member in now that he’s hard. Once it’s off, you lick your lips at the sight of him, naked before you.

As he rejoins you back on the bed, he starts pumping himself in fast strokes, maintaining eye contact. Imagining him touching himself to you is what gets you off on your solo nights, and watching him do it right in front of you, makes blood your cunt throb in urgent need.

He reaches for a bottle of lube and condoms he placed on the nightstand and you chuckle. “You really prepared for this huh?”

“Of course I did. Can’t let my baby down again.” You swoon at his words, you always liked it when he referred to you as his baby. Sitting up, you place your lips on his in a gentle kiss which he smiles into. He unwraps the condom, but you snatch it from him and toss it aside. He watches as it flies across the room and falls to the ground, now unusable. “What are you doing?”

You only smile in response, squeezing lube over his cock and spreading it all over. He looks at you questioningly, then smiles wide. “Really?”

He didn’t think it was possible to get any more turned on than he already is, but your consenting nod makes things even more urgent. You lie on your back and stretch your arms out, motioning for him to come into your arms. Hands wrapping around your ankles, he tugs you down the sheets to get you closer before fitting himself between your legs, chest meeting yours and faces just an inch apart. You snake your arms around his shoulders and look at him with a fond smile. “Love you,” you say.

“Love you too,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides his cock to your entrance and slips inside slowly. Your eyes fall shut and moans leave your lips as he fills you up. His arm rests against the side of your face, hand softly running over your hair while he pays attention to your expression at every thrust. It feels like a bigger stretch for some reason and you try to get used to it.

A steady rhythm forms from the movement of his hips against yours. When the stretch becomes a bit more bearable, you open your eyes and meet his beautifully dark and lustful ones. He smiles his signature smile, and you cup one side of his face, fingers smoothing over his cheek.

Jungkook leans in to your touch and kisses the palm of your hand. He brings his head down to your chest and takes your left nipple into his mouth, licking the sensitive bud. You sigh, running your hand through his hair and over the back of his head. He gives attention to your other breast with his hands, tracing circles on your skin, eliciting goosebumps over the area.

You watch him as he changes his position, moving to his knees to hook his arms under your thighs. His thrusts slow down, but he pounds harder, staying inside you for a beat then pulling back to out to slam into you again. Your eyes stick to watching the way his body moves, abs tightening as he thrusts forward. It gets harder to breathe when your breath gets stuck in your throat every time his hips slap against yours. “You okay there?” He snickers, watching your efforts.

“Shut up.” You huff but can’t help a smile. “Try not to kill me, will you?”

“Can’t help it,” he mumbles, pushing down on your thighs, watching the way his cock disappears into your folds. “It feels so good baby.” He breathes.

The way he seems to get lost in the feeling and just watching his hips move fluidly against yours causes a soft whine to escape you. You’ve never went without protection before and it’s definitely doing it for him from the way he can barely keep himself from letting out low moans.

Jungkook pushes against you with your legs resting against his shoulders. The way your body folds allows him to get deeper inside. He grunts with every thrust, leaning his weight against his forearms resting on your side. Thrusts get faster and his breathing gets ragged as he watches your face twist from underneath, the heaving of your chest at every breath and the way your breasts bounce with every thrust. You’re sweaty and whiny, eyes falling shut as you hold on to his arms for support.

He takes in a sharp breath, abruptly shooting back up to his knees and slips out of you, “Oh baby, I’m coming.” The low voice he speaks in has you clenching. He squeezes his cock, letting the cum drip down onto your cunt as he milks every last drop. Eyes still shut, you take this chance to catch your breath and when you open them, you see him breathing heavily as he rubs the tip of his still hard cock against your folds, spreading his seed all over.

“Already?” You giggle, breathless. It’s probably a good thing, you think, knowing how he can maintain his erection even after coming twice on his good days. Good for him, but bad for you. The one time he came three times in one night, you almost fell into a coma after trying to keep up with him.

He chuckles, amused himself. "I got too excited." He lets his cock rub against your clit and supports himself with a hand on the side of your head, allowing his other hand to cup your face when he goes in for a kiss.

You push against his body, motioning for a switch in positions. He rolls onto his back and takes you with him, arm around your waist. Sweet smile on your face, you kiss him as you position your entrance for him to slip his cock inside you again. You moan into the kiss when he does, almost dropping your body on him but he keeps you steady with strong arms on your waist.

“Ah…” You bite your lips as your hips grind against his, trying to find the right angle. Your voice trembles when he guides your hips with his hands, getting you to move faster. They move up your body once you get the hang of it, cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples in circles. Your incessant soft whines continue, and Jungkook can’t help bucking his hips into you. His hips move in a gentle wave, meeting you halfway and you bite your lip as you keep yourself steady, pushing on his chest.

“By the way,” you say between breaths, “I’m thinking of getting a navel piercing.”

“Really?” He traces a line from the middle of your chest to your navel. “That’s hot. Can’t wait.”

You giggle and lean back, placing your hands on his thighs and start moving your hips against him. He lets out a low moan in approval. There’s nothing hotter than watching you ride with your legs spread before him, giving him full access to your clit. In this position, his cock hits just the right spots that has you seeing stars. He starts rubbing the sensitive nub in circles and your breath hitches. His movements get faster and you start whining, feeling the buildup in your core. You push yourself back up when it gets too much, placing a hand on his to stop him. “I’m close,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him deeply.

You reach for his hands, interlacing your fingers together as you continue to ride him. He stays still, watching as you ride to chase your release. Your body tenses up and whines get softer. You start to bounce on his cock, crying out as you slam yourself back down against him. Your movements get faster and sloppier as you reach for the release. Jungkook grabs your hips and starts thrusting up into you. Your eyes fall shut as you feel yourself coming undone. “Fuck I’m coming,” you breathe out as Jungkook continues thrusting into you until your body convulses above him, thighs squeezing against his sides. He slows down then, letting you ride it out.

You drop against him as you come down from your high and he holds your body close against his. It’s warm and you’re spent, thighs aching. He kisses the side of your head and lets you rest against him in that position until you catch your breath.

He then switches your positions again, this time turning you over on your front. He heaves your bottom half up on your knees and you complain, body feeling heavy. You keep your head rested against the sheets as he rubs gentle strokes on your ass, having an oddly calming effect on you. The tip of his cock rubs against your folds and teases your entrance before he slips inside you. He lets out a low moan and spreads your ass cheeks as he watches his cock slide in. “Damn it, Y/N.” He mutters. “Is it me or does it feel like...”

“Tighter? I know, I feel it too.” You mumble against the bed. “Are you taking penis enlargement pills? Be honest.”

He snorts, pulling out slowly then slamming your hips back. You groan. “You really think I need those?”

You moan into the sheets, grabbing them for support. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the pilates classes Hana forces me to go to.”

“Remind me to thank her for that.” Jungkook leans forwards and grabs your hair in his fist, forcing you to support yourself on your arms. He goes slow at first to allow you to get used to it. But as soon as he hears soft whimpers from you, he starts ramming into you mercilessly without warning, earning cries of pleasure. He gets lost in watching the way your ass bounces against him after every thrust and how you moan every time he pulls on your hair a little harder, making you arch your back even more.

“Oh my god, it feels so good.” You groan. He leans over your shoulder and kisses your ear.

“You like that?” He whispers, sending shivers down your neck.

“Yeah.” You say shakily. “Just like that⎯ fuck⎯ oh fuck.”

“You’re so greedy.” He breathes against your neck. “You just came a few minutes ago.”

“So did you,” you huff. “I can’t help it if the dick’s so good.” You turn your head towards him and chuckle, biting his bottom lip. Jungkook’s too far gone to make jokes from the look in his eyes. He tugs harder on your hair and expression turns serious. You stare up at him with your mouth parted, breathing hard. “Fuck me harder.”

“Fuck.” He holds you in his arms and moves back on his knees, so your back rests against his chest. Even though you asked for it, you weren’t ready for the way he hammers into you without missing a beat. Your whines encourage him further, and he wraps an arm over your shoulder to keep you close, so he can watch your face twist in pleasure. His other hand roams your body, giving attention to your chest, then sliding down to your clit, rubbing against it ruthlessly. You can hardly breathe, trying to focus on so many things at once. He moans in your ear, then places kisses against your neck and shoulders. “My baby’s such a good girl.” He whispers.

You whimper, feeling an aching feeling in your chest. With one hand on his ass to support yourself and the other on the side of his face, you turn to him. “Don’t pull out.” you say in a whisper, turning to him. He stares at you with fire in his eyes. Something flashes in them and they seem to get darker with lust. “Cum inside me, Jungkook.”

Your body starts to shake from the oncoming release but you hold it back. Jungkook goes harder, and sounds of skin slapping echoes in the room. His hand sinks into the flesh of your waist and his hot, ragged breathing brushes against your ear. “Baby,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

The feeling in your core gets tighter and you feel his grip on your hand getting harder, letting you know he’s close. He grabs your face just then, turning it to face him. Sweat drops down the side of his temple and his hair is a mess. He clenches down on his jaw so hard you see the dimple that forms. “I love you.” He says and you tear up from the physical and emotional stimulation. His thrusts start to get messy.

“I love you too.” You reply, kissing him.

His fingers rub your clit relentlessly and you shut your eyes at the oncoming wave of orgasm. With one final hard thrust, a guttural noise escapes Jungkook and you both come undone, crying out when the buildup inside you snaps. Jungkook breathes deep and hard, moaning against your back as his hips buck into you, releasing his seed inside of you. You feel his warm release as he drops forward, putting his weight on you, and you meet with the sheets again, with Jungkook still riding his release on your back, hips thrusting weakly.

Only the sounds of ragged breathing can be heard throughout the room. Jungkook removes himself from your back, sitting on his knees. He helps you flip over to your back and you do so reluctantly, mustering whatever energy you have left. Noticing how he licks his lips at the sight of the mess between your spread legs, you squeeze your thighs together.

The pillow you reach for gets taken away from you and you pout at Jungkook. He laughs, then scans his eyes over your body, all sweaty and warm and then his eyes land on the necklace around your neck. He traces it lightly and you watch him from where you lay. Hovering above you, he wipes away the strands of hair sticking to your face. “Just curious, why made you change your mind about the condom?”

You shrug, “Well, I’m on the pill. And I know you’re clean.” Feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, you start picking at your nails. “I don’t know, I just wanted to feel closer to you.”

He smiles warmly, leaning down to kiss you. Taking the spot next to you, he pulls you in close, faces are just an inch apart. “How did I get so lucky?” He says, staring you in the eyes. “Not about the condom thing but just with you, in general.”

“I’m the lucky one.” You smile and kiss his forehead, pushing back his hair with your fingers. “I love you so much.”

“Love you more.” He whispers, eyes shutting close at the way you gently stroke his head. “I never want to lose you.”

“Hate to break it to you but, you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I can live with that.” He laughs, and lets out a satisfied hum.

With a sigh, you push yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom, legs feeling like lead. The sticky feeling between your thighs makes it worse. You realise Jungkook trailing after you from the reflection in the mirror and you turn, pressing a hand to his chest, “Where are you going?”

“In there. With you.” He says simply.

“I’m just gonna pee and wash up. Then go to sleep for the next three days.”

He laughs and holds you close, hands on your ass. “The night has just begun, darling”

“Jungkook, when I said you’re stuck with me forever, I didn’t mean it literally.” You look up at him with innocent eyes. “Also, you’ve done more than enough tonight, and haven’t I said you’re already forgiven?”

“Yeah but,” he swoops down and throws you over his shoulder, landing a hard slap on your ass. “I didn’t say I’ve forgiven you for blue-balling me. I’m not done with you just yet, my love.”

#kwritersworldnet #networkbangtan #jungkook scenario #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #bts scenario #rainworks #rough edges

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cupofteaguk · 4 years

Text

a begin again drabble ↪ or, when a new professor shows up at hogwarts

There are many upsides and downsides to dating Jung Hoseok.

On one hand, he’s genuinely one of the nicest people you’ve had the pleasure of encountering. Being able to date him is just an extension of getting to see what kind of person Hoseok really is. Aside from his kind and understanding nature—underneath all those layers just lay the simple quality and fact that he really is nice and sweet and you adore those aspects of him.

On the other head, he’s genuinely one of the nicest people you’ve had the pleasure of encounter. He’s too nice, too understanding, too sweet and that type of personality constantly threatens to get on your nerves on more than one occasion. Most of the time, it’s little things that can result in exasperated, but otherwise fake, arguments about what to eat for dinner, whether to risk a trip to Hogsmeade during peak grading season would be worth the trouble, if you wanted to sleep over in his quarters for the evening or not…

Those little playful banters are nothing major or serious. They are parts of the relationship you share with Hoseok that makes it so fun, so unexpected, and everything you could have wanted plus a little bit more. It makes you truly realize how well you get along with Hoseok; how perhaps the formation of a romantic connection between the two of you is meant to be and that all those years of being away from each other despite believing neither of you knew each other that well was just a missed opportunity.

But sometimes Hoseok’s kindness really does make you want to strangle yourself. Or him. Or the very new, very attractive female professor who keeps giving him curious side glances and smiles that linger for a second too long—just like right now. And it’s hard not to feel the slightest bit unhinged when Hoseok doesn’t do anything to distance himself from her touches and her giggles.

Maybe you’re just jealous. Jealous over your boyfriend’s relentless good cheer, something that has not faded away or wavered in the slightest even when the pair of you went to school together. Maybe you’re jealous over the fact that Hoseok gets along so well with this new professor in particular—almost the same way that you and Hoseok got along when you first started working at Hogwarts.

The sudden worry that you could be replaceable in Jung Hoseok’s life, the thought that perhaps he would only keep you around until some other prettier, equally doe-eyed individual walked into his life fills your head with immediate doubt. Given that you and Hoseok have only been… somewhat of an item for a few months, it doesn’t fill you with too much confidence in the level of commitment both of you have for the relationship. There’s only so much your nerves will let you talk about before the fear of Hoseok’s expectations not matching with yours keeps you at bay.

It keeps you gritting your teeth together as you hunch over your desk in the empty classroom, attempting to grade the Transfiguration essays your first years have written. However, it’s hard to remain entirely focused on alphabet knowledge when Professor Hoseok and Professor Irene are standing outside the door frame of your class, talking and gushing to one another about god knows what. Normally, you don’t have a problem with Hoseok conversing with coworkers (as with him to you), but something about Hoseok and Irene talking threatens to make your heart drop to your chest and burn up all in a combination that can only be compared to some terrible anxiety.

You’re not too sure—maybe it’s the way Irene laughs a little too loudly and reaches over to oh-so-casually grace her hand down his arm and how Hoseok does absolutely nothing to stop her actions. Even though you don’t know the content of the situation or what they’re even talking about in the first place, that doesn’t stop you from allowing a bitter tang to enter your head, your stomach, your heart. The way Hoseok is smiling down at Irene reminds you a little too much about how Hoseok smiles at you and it brings a fireload of questions down upon you.

You force yourself to remain focused on the task at hand, leaning down in order to keep the pair at your door frame out of your line of sight. It’s still hard to stay preoccupied when the giggling feels as if it’s right next to your face.

You’re about two seconds away from straightening up and hiding away in your own personal office space to get away—not just from the distracting chatter but also from the burning sensation threatening to cloud your better judgement. However, before you can start to make the transition, the footsteps entering distracts you as you look up just in time to see Hoseok making his way towards you.

“Hey you,” He greets, flashing you his typical warm smile that never fails to make butterflies erupt in your stomach but the thought of him smiling at Irene in the same way leaves a more pressing worry that makes it difficult to return his hello.

“Hey,” You manage instead, playing a weak smile in the hopes that Hoseok will simply read it as stress.

It seems to work, because he furrows his eyebrows sympathetically and leans on the desk in the space next to where you’re seated. “Grading kicking your ass right now?”

You hum. “There’s only so many similar versions of the same topic that I can take before my immediate reaction to reading this is to just cross everything out with a giant red marker.” You sigh. Actually voicing the process of your assignments makes you realize that you are stressed out for a number of different reasons and that perhaps Hoseok’s relationship with Irene is the result of the stress. But still, you cannot stop yourself from feeling this way. “But I have to get it done,” You continue to remark, attempting to keep your voice light. “I feel like I’ve been holding back on this for way too long so I have to get them done.”

“Hm,” Hoseok remarks quietly, gaze watching your figure for a moment, as if trying to dephiever the source of your slightly dismissive attitude. Maybe the way you refuse to meet his gaze can be slightly misleading, especially since you’re usually an attentive person during conversations, but the fact that you’ve procrastinated on grading a large collection of assignment probably helps ease the suspicion as he writes off your behavior to stress. “So I guess grabbing a quick lunch in the Great Hall is out of the question?”

“You want to grab lunch?” You ask quietly, pressing your lips together as you sneak a quick glance at the man hovering over your shoulder. “I’m pretty swamped right now—why don’t you ask Professor Irene to go eat with you?” The last part is more of a mumble and is more or less a slip on your behalf and that realization makes your eyes momentarily widen out of fear that Hoseok will get defensive in regards to what that means.

Instead, Hoseok gives you a confused look. “Why would I ask Irene out to lunch? We were just talking a second ago and I’d rather spend my time with you.”

“W-Well,” You start, shrugging in an attempt to feign casualness. “I mean, I’m pretty busy and you guys seem to be getting along really well so it makes sense that the two of you would hang out. It’s not like either of us have many options for friends anyways.”

Your words seem to rid themselves of its dismissive nature because Hoseok actually ponders this thought. “That makes sense,” He reasons with a smile—the type of gesture that reassures you on not alarming Hoseok about the depth of your emotions, but also leaving you to wonder just how much of your sanity will be sacrificed from trying to convince Hoseok about your current state of mind.

As it turns out, it takes your sanity and a little bit more to get through the next few days of the week. Your busy schedule of grading, teaching, lesson planning, and tutoring keeps you away from Hoseok for long periods of time and he seems to use that as a main justification for spending more time with Irene. You catch them in the hallway as you’re trying to dash to the library or to your first class after catching a quick bite in the Great Hall—talking about god-knows-what but always laughing and always lingering closely together that makes the nerves of jealousy and curiosity spike at your heart.

You don’t want to be the controlling girlfriend, the one who tells Hoseok he cannot spend time with certain people even though you’re also the one biting off more than you can chew. You had been the one to say it was okay for Hoseok to hang around other people simply because there were moments where you couldn’t fill that void in his life. But still, seeing him hang around Irene and Irene only brings about far too many questions that should be healthy for a girlfriend to face alone.

Yet the fear of speaking your mind, the fear of Hoseok’s kindness serving as an inability to see where your negative emotions come from, keeps you from speaking but also forces you to stop lingering too closely over the problem. As a result, you unconsciously create distance between you and those problems by burying yourself in your assignments and neglecting your relationship out of fear of saying the wrong thing.

At first, you’re too distracted with grading midterms and answering inquiries from students that it isn’t hard for you to get lost and caught up in the current event of your day-by-day. However, the more time you spend investing in your work, the more time you see Hoseok and Irene in one another’s company, which leads to more conflicted emotions as you attempt to settle your jealousy despite every bone in your body convincing you that Hoseok enjoyed being with Irene more than he enjoyed being with you, which then leads you to bury yourself further and further into your assignments. And the cycle goes on, over and over again.

You’ve never been too good at dealing with specific problems head-on, so your body’s first instinct is to suppress the issue, meaning that you avoid aforementioned issue—meaning that you also avoid him.

“Y/N, I know you’re busy but do you want to grab a quick bite for dinner?”

“Uh—sorry, can’t. I promised a bunch of my fifth years I’d go over their Transfiguration notes before O.W.L’s come up.”

“Y/N, can I walk you to your first class?”

“Aw, that’s really sweet Hoseok but I have to run to the Great Hall super quick just to grab a bagel or something, I’m really hungry.”

“Y/N, do you have time for a little date down at the Three Broomsticks?”

“S-Sorry, a lot of students have told me they’re coming down to my office hours to practice the spells we learned in class…”

Sure, maybe a majority of the excuses you throw in Hoseok’s general direction are entirely truthful, but sometimes you actually go looking for those reasons not to spend too much time with Hoseok. You know it’s a cowardly thing to participate in, but your feelings feel so overpowering and scary that you aren’t entirely sure what would happen or what you would say if they got out of hand. So you resort to saying nothing and hoping that Hoseok would never catch on.

The hope had been stupid and foolish to begin with, and you realize that as soon as you walk out of Great Hall with the remnants of morning toast around your mouth only to find Hoseok waiting for you just outside. He looks disappointed and you can feel that disappointment leaking off his skin like steam and the sight of him after avoiding him for so many weeks aches at your heart. But it also forces images of his time spent with Irene fill your head and it’s just an endless cycle.

“P-Professor Hoseok,” You stammer, unsure why you had to attach formality to his name. After all, it’s not like the whole school doesn’t know that the pair of you are dating—word spreads quickly after people found out he fingered you in his office, but you don’t like to talk about that anymore.

“You’re avoiding me,” Hoseok states, crossing his arms over his chest, going straight to the point and you don’t blame him.

“I’m not,” You retort, but there is a waver in your voice and Hoseok didn’t even need to be your boyfriend to know how badly you lie through your teeth. “I really have been busy Hobi.”

You hope the use of the pet name would help ease the potential argument, but he doesn’t let up. “Okay, but you’ve always been the type of person to take aside a few hours to hang out. I get that you’re busy but you won’t even look at me anymore. What’s up with that? Are you… done with me or something?”

“What? No, no, of course not Hoseok,” You say, letting your own guard down long enough to take a step closer to him. “I didn’t know that’s how you felt—I didn’t even think you would have been missing me…”

The last part of the sentence is an afterthought but Hoseok sees right through it. “Of course I would be missing you, what are you talking about?”

You press your lips together, willing yourself not to say too much but you have a feeling that simply opening your mouth has already unlocked more can of worms than you ever intended. You avert your gaze. “I… I don’t know—you’ve been spending so much time with Professor Irene and you seem to really, really enjoy her company and vice versa…”

“Wait, wait…” Hoseok interrupts, eyebrows furrowing together. “Y/N, do you think I’m cheating on you or something?”

“No!” You interject, waving your hands briefly in front of your face. “No, I don’t think that at all…” You can feel the nervousness etching itself across your face, the adrenaline of nerves and fight or flight streaming through your blood and you wonder how convincing the statement must sound and look to Hoseok. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you or anything—she’s pretty and smart and funny…” You trail off. The look of absolute disbelief upon Hoseok’s face has told you that you have said too much. “Uh, I have to get going,” You say, blindly taking a look at your wristwatch. You can’t even tell the time with how quickly you glance at it, but you need an excuse to leave the conversation before you could say something you don’t want to hear—or even worse, Hoseok could say something you don’t want to hear. “I have to get ready for my class.”

You turn on your heel and pace as quickly as you can without making it seem like you were trying to escape, but Hoseok calls your name and you know you aren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you thought. But it doesn’t matter, because you are running as quickly as you can to your class. Some students are already piled inside when you get there and hello’s are exchanged as you settle down at the front of the room and begin setting up the equipment for today’s lecture. It’s Draconifor spells with your third years—typically a more difficult spell to learn just because of the overall complexities that come with trying to transform objects into real things; you already have your work cut out for you.

The class starts off smoothly and you think that you can get through the lecture without worrying about Hoseok or Irene or wondering what Hoseok is thinking about—until the door to your class slams open and reveals the man himself standing in your doorframe. Over the course of your relationship, you’ve become accustomed to Hoseok dropping by your classroom during lectures to visit but this is not like his usual visits because he’s wide-eyed with a glint you’ve never seen before.

“Hoseok,” You greet, a touch of hesitancy in your voice and for good reason, given that you had just more or less accused him of cheating on you and so you aren’t entirely sure about what he plans to say. You swallow, wondering if your students can notice the spiking tension in the room. They’re probably use to his presence after having to endure it for so many months. “C-Can I help you with something—?”

“You think I’m cheating on you?” He interrupts loudly, forcing the room into the kind of silence that makes you want to strangle yourself. You clench your teeth together, face burning with the color of humiliation as you stare ahead at Hoseok. You can’t even picture the expressions upon the faces of your students.

“H-Hoseok, this really isn’t a good time…”

“I can’t believe it!” Hoseok carries on, talking as if he had not heard you or had not seen the fact that you are previously occupied at the moment. “I can’t believe you would think that I’m cheating on you. With Professor Irene too!”

“Hoseok!” You retort, cheeks hurting so much that you think you might just die of embarrassment right then and there. The entirety of your face feels so hot that it becomes hard to see clearly but you still manage to make your way down the aisle towards him, attempting to push him without actually having to use physical force. “We can’t do this right now—!”

“No.” Hoseok shrugs away from your touch. “We’re gonna do this right now. We’re gonna talk about this right now because I can’t believe you’d think I’d actually cheat on you!”

“I never said that!” You protest, momentarily forgetting your current setting long enough to fight back and expose your own personal emotions. The room around you suddenly feels empty. “I said I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a crush on her! You’ve been spending so much time with her anyways!”

“Because you said you were busy!” Hoseok points out. “And how could I have a crush on Irene? I have you.”

You press your lips together, having not expected the conversation to go in that direction. “W-Well, I just thought—!” You stammer. “How could you not like Irene? She’s pretty and smart and funny and she’s just so much more put together…”

Hoseok takes in a breath. “Do you think I care about any of that? I mean, those things are fine—but it’s not you. And that makes all the difference because I’m too in love with you to ever, ever look at someone else.”

You freeze for a moment, completely taken aback by his statement, said without an ounce of hesitation or thought—like it’s the only thing he knows better than he knows himself and you are utterly surprised.

Because this is the first time Hoseok has admitted that he loves you.

You are surprised, and it shows in your face. It shows in your widening eyes and parting lips, stolen breathes. Even though you know what he had said, you still find yourself asking: “W-What did you say?”

And Hoseok seems to make this realization as well—the realization that he’s defining his feelings for you with those three dreaded words that could change everything and he freezes. “I, uh… I said…”

“You really love me?” You finish, unable to help yourself and unable to help the way the teasing smile inches itself across your lips.

Hoseok ponders for a second before his eyes meet yours and he takes a step closer. “Of course I am,” He answers. “I’d be stupid not to be in love with you.”

The teasing smile turns into a shy grin; you angle yourself a little to study Hoseok through your lashes. “That’s nice, because I’m in love with you too.”

The corner of Hoseok’s lips quirk up, the beautiful beginnings of a laugh pass between his lips as he steps forward to take you in his arms before—!

“Aw, Professor Hoseok and Professor Y/N are in love!” A shout rings through the third year students in your classroom, causing both of you to jump out of the little world only you belonged to and making you realize that you have just confessed in front of your students.

Given what happened the first time you and Hoseok hit a milestone in your relationship, this shouldn’t surprise you—and you can’t even begin to imagine what will happen once your sixth years find out.

#hoseok scenarios #hoseok scenario #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #eeeeee hope u guys like it! :-)#wrote this back in 2018 omg still can't believe i have no recollection about sharing this?#i might have but honestly? no memory of such an event

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headoverhiddles · 4 years

Text

Killing Strangers - Marilyn Manson x Reader AU [Smut]

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is a dangerous man, with secretive toys, a secretive past, and skeletons in his closet. But what will you do when he’s not around to protect you?

P1/? I may continue this on ao3.

Notes: Undercover Agent/Assassin Manson AU!! I couldn’t get this plot bunny out of my head, so here you go. This is me procrastinating on all my other planned MM fics. Enjoy! (Kill4Me, Killing Strangers, and Gangster by Kehlani are great songs to cycle while reading this)

It’s midnight in Stuttgart, Germany.

You spread out on the chaise lounge, your dress riding up to your knee as you rest your head in your arms and watch the lights of the city blink. It’s beautiful here.

Your boyfriend is an assassin working for a non-government branch, and has got three different places, in different spots. The first one is a penthouse in New York City, upper Manhattan. The second is, as he likes to call it, ‘homebase’, in Los Angeles, a hilltop mansion with bulletproof gates. He’s been spending the most time here in the German penthouse lately, having left behind much of his work in LA.

You rise from the chaise, dress brushing the floor as you walk over to the bookcase. He’s got a single photograph connecting him to anything he’s done in the past, and it’s a photo of him ten years ago, and five other men, all dressed in black suits.

That had been the dream team: The Antichrist Syndicate. It had started with his partner Jeordie, codename Twiggy, who used to run with Manson in the early days of the business. Then Kenneth, codename Ginger, John, codename 5, Stephen, codename Pogo, Skold, codename Arctic Wolf, and finally, your boyfriend: Brian Warner, codename Manson, the Pale Emperor. They had all worked for an international organization for undercover peacekeeping, called Interscope, under a philanthropist named Trent. They did good, keeping secrets, taking out high profile people. Trent ran a tight business, no loose ends. Then after Mission Grotesque, a particularly bloody affair in Berlin, they parted ways.

5 left first, then Pogo, then Skold, and finally Ginger decided it was time to leave as well. Ginger and 5 had teamed up again in some kind of partnership somewhere across the world in Romania, Pogo had left the life for good (and had probably gotten killed for it by now), nobody really knew what happened to Twiggy, and Skold had gone rogue, become a ghost, a gun for hire.

Manson would have done the same, if becoming a lone wolf wasn’t so unreliable. He liked the benefits he got from working under contract, which meant he could provide for you, keep you safe, keep you under protection when he wasn’t around to look after you. The Loma Vista organization under Bates paid him good, and made it clear that you and he would both be untraceable.

You adjust the framed photograph, dusting it off with your fingertips. Manson played it like he didn’t give a shit about anything or any of those ‘backstabbing assholes’, but you could read him well enough to know he missed those days sometimes.

You walk over to the bar in the penthouse, pouring yourself another cosmo. You had been a bartender before Manson had picked you up in that club three years ago, so you knew how to mix a good one. You run your fingers down your neck to your diamond dagger-shaped necklace, smiling. It felt good knowing how much he cared for you. The danger of his job was all worth it—you would kill for him, and he would do the same.

You walk back over to the window, and sigh. The cars passing below look like small fairy lights, dancing in the blur of the night, and your eyes in the glass reflection mirror the stars.

Suddenly, all the lights go out. You swish your drink, letting the lit up city illuminate its path up to your lips.

"There's an intruder in the house," you remark dryly, "Whatever will I do?"

"Beg for mercy," Manson's voice growls behind you, and fingers wrap around the back of your neck. You take another sip of your pink drink, blinking your eyelashes.

"You gonna choke me, daddy?"

He hums, vibrations rumbling against your back. "I've gotten too used to having you around. I’d probably go crazy without you." Instead of choking you as some lethal assailant in the night may have, he begins massaging you instead. "You haven't been relaxing. You're stiff, sweetheart." You reach back, hand finding his crotch.

"And you're not." You turn around, looking up at him teasingly. "That's a problem." He turns the lights back on, smirking as the shoulders of your dress fall down your back.

"We won’t have to worry about that for long." He walks over to fix himself a drink, undoing his top two buttons to reveal the tattoos on his chest. "What’d you do today, babygirl?"

"Made sure nobody broke in and killed me," you smile sweetly, sauntering by him. You hum, and look at his gun cabinet as you pass it. "That gets me wondering..."

"Mm," he mumbles, half listening as he downs his glass of vodka and pours himself another. You watch him, biting your lip. His black shards of hair are in his eyes, and his cuff links have the slightest trace of dried blood on them. It makes you wet imagining how it got there.

Turning to the cabinet your curiosity had brought you to, you unlatch it, and take a small gun out. You make sure to attach the silencer, as you’d seen Manson do a million times, and close the cabinet door softly. Walking back over to the living room, you stand across from the west wall.

Looking around, you aim at a plate on the shelf across the room, and pull the trigger. It instead blows a hole through a copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, and Manson looks up from where he’s cutting lines.

“Mind telling me why you’re shooting up the place?”

“I’m practicing,” you shush him, getting up and inspecting the smoking bullet hole, “What am I going to do when you’re away one day and some thug comes in, trying to kidnap me to get to you?” He stares at you through dark eyes, taking a sip of his vodka. You go on. “Picture it. Bates sends you off to Hong Kong to kill some arms dealer who wouldn’t pay. I’m here... all alone... dressed like I am...” You inch your dress up your leg, and his eyes dart down, following the hike of your skirt.

“So, you wanna protect yourself with a gun?” he muses, using a rolled up hundred to snort his lines. “How patriotic.”

“Fuck off.” You lick your matte red lips. “If you get to play with guns, so should I.”

A smug smirk dances on his lips as he admires your form. At least your breasts are being pushed together nicely the way you’re holding that pistol. “Uh huh. Have some of this.”

“I’m busy.”

He walks over to the couch, and sits behind you with his drink, watching. “Okay. Try again.”

You look at him, then back at your target: the damn plate.

He settles in, elbows on his knees, and watches your finger stroke the trigger. “Careful, angel. Aim nice and close.” You close one eye, and pull the trigger. Manson cringes as you blow his first edition Alistair Crowley book away.

He gets up, sighing, and sets his drink down. “You wanna learn how to do what I do?” he mumbles in your ear. He presses his weight up against you from behind, and wraps his arms around you, rolling up his sleeves. His hand encompasses yours, tattooed fingers making sure your grip is right. “Here’s what I do.” He jerks your arm, shooting the plate. Then he shoots a cross pattern into the wall behind it, with four bullet holes, and strokes his hand down your hip. You moan gently, and he pauses. “Oh. You like that?”

“Mhm,” you nod, and he brushes your hair aside, holding your shoulder.

“Your turn.” You aim, and he holds your hand again, steady. “Shoot,” he whispers, pointing just past you, “Here. And the world’ll get smaller, sweetheart.”

His voice is like sandpaper honeyed over. You lean back into him, and his hand finds your breast, massaging it as you try to aim. You give up a few seconds later, and he guides the gun down between your breasts, down your stomach, and slides your dress up your thigh.

“Please,” you whisper, and he dips the barrel of the gun into your black lace panties.

“I fucking wanted you all week,” he growls in your ear, “It killed me being away from you.”

“You could’ve called me.”

He drags the gun up and down. “I don’t have enough burner phones for how many times I had to jack off thinking of you.”

You shiver, reaching back to palm him. He’s half hard in his pants, and you want more. “What did you think of?”

“You, putting on a little show for me. Those gorgeous eyes, staring up at me like I’m the world while you suck my cock like it’s all you live for.”

“Oh,” you breathe, and he massages your other breast, starting to move the gun against your clit.

“You look good holding a gun, babygirl. Aim and show daddy just how good you are.” He gives you the gun, but you drop it and press your lips to his. He walks you back into the floor to ceiling glass windows, and tears your dress, letting it fall around your ankles.

“I liked that dress,” you pout.

“Fuck the dress,” he mutters, and turns you around so you’re facing the building opposite you. You’re only in black pantyhose and a black push up bra, otherwise exposed. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his grill making the mark even more pronounced, and you purr, grinding back against him. He grinds his cock into your ass for a moment, just reveling in the sound of your soft moans growing in volume.

He finally pulls your panties down, and positions himself, slowly sinking into you. You gasp, palms splaying out over the window. He grunts once he’s all the way in, then starts up a pace. You grind back into every thrust, and he holds you around your middle, slapping your ass with his hips every time he pounds in.

“You know, if someone broke in, you could just fuck them to distract them until I got back. Your pussy could send a man to an early grave.”

Angrily, you shove back against the window so that both of you fall to the floor, and you get back on top of him. He holds your hips, mouth falling open and head falling back as you start to ride him hard into the floor.

“Babyg... ah, ah... ah...”

“You like that?” you circle your hips, slamming down, “Huh? Mister tough hitman, scary pale emperor, thinks I can’t protect myself. You like feeling my wet little cunt around you? Guess who’s on top of who?!”

“Fuck,” he groans, and you put your forearms on either side of his head, dragging your breasts up over his face.

“I’m close,” you whisper, “Oh god.” He holds you tighter, reaching up your ribcage to grope your breasts and suck your nipples.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on my fucking cock,” he sneers, “Do it, I know you want it.”

“Manson,” you moan, and he rocks you through your orgasm from beneath. When he knows you’re done, he flips you over, roughly pounding into you a few times before his hips stutter and he swears again, finishing inside you.

He catches his breath, and kisses your forehead, rolling over beside you. His hair is messed up, eyeshadow smudged over half-lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry about the dress, babygirl. I’ll buy you a new one. Pretty one, just like that one, hm?”

“Thank you,” you whisper, crossing your leg with his. He holds onto your leg, chest rising and falling. You two finally rise, and you pull your panties up, so your lingerie set is at least complete to walk around in.

“Now. About this gun thing.” He runs his hand through his hair, and picks it up. “Why don’t we practice on something useful?”

He points out the window at the neighbour he absolutely despises. The guy has his Christmas tree decked out in LED blinking lights that never seem to go out, and while the building across from you seems like it’s miles away, it hasn’t stopped irking either of you.

“Kill Griswold over there.”

“I can’t kill him!”

“Your aim is fine.”

“I bet you I can’t.”

“I bet you can, and whoever is wrong has to give the other person... four straight hours of oral sex.”

You sigh, and aim the gun. “What about the windows, genius?” His hands find your hips, and he holds his hands together in front of you, resting his forearms on your curves. He lays his head in the nape of your neck, watching with you.

“We’ll replace them tomorrow, with your dress.”

“You think it’s smart to leave the penthouse of a contract killer wide open all night?”

“If anybody comes to get us, I know who’s gonna protect me.” He nudges you with his head. “Shoot the motherfucker.”

You pull the trigger, and hit the poor guy’s power box. His tree goes up in flames, and you stifle a laugh. You two watch as he comes storming into his living room, and looks over, trying to find who did it in a sea of tiny apartment lights. He finally looks all the way up at you two. Manson waves, grinning, and you blow him a kiss.

“My nasty little femme fatale,” he mumbles into your neck. He saunters over to the chaise, sitting back, and you sit on his lap, slinging your legs sideways over his.

“When’s your next job?” you ask, taking a sip from his tumbler of vodka. He plays with a lock of your hair.

“Next month. Contract in Berlin.”

Berlin. That’s... “That’s not far,” you murmur, mouthing kisses along the corner of his mouth, playing with the last few done up buttons above his navel. You trace the long upside down cross he’s got tattooed there.

“Mmm,” Manson agrees, fondly stroking up and down your arms. “I think we should get a cat. We can pawn it off on Bates when we leave.” He idly looks back at the picture frame on the shelf, staring for longer than usual. You follow his line of sight, and try to think of the best way to say it.

“Maybe... he doesn’t want to be found, babe.” Manson looks back to you.

“Good. I hope the fucker stays lost.”

Snuggling into him on the couch, listening to the late night Stuttgart traffic from the open air where your window used to be, you feel his heartbeat pick up a little. No matter how much he tried to deny it, the mystery was weighing on him.

After Mission Grotesque, where had his old partner disappeared to?

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yuthoe · 4 years

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Sweetie: 2 + 1 (PENTAGON: Yang Hongseok)

or “The Two Times Hongseok Calls You ‘Sweetie’ and The One Time You Call Him the Same.”

Hello, lads. It’s me again, procrastinating on my thesis. The idea for this is partly from @antihongseok-network‘s post. I meant to write it earlier in the week, but, you know, life. This is more musings, actually. Not much description in it, but I’m just chalking it up to writing it at 12AM while hopped up on caffeine.

I keep writing soft scenarios, man. Is this gonna be my trademark for my Pentagon fics now?

WARNING: mild profanity. WORD COUNT: 1,162.

—

“Hey, honey,” you say, wedging your phone between your face and shoulder as you continue to type. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really,” Hongseok replies on the other line, seemingly distracted as well. You can hear faint gunshots and Shinwon’s screams in the background; ah, they’re playing a PC game again. “Just wanted to confirm if you’re still up for dinner later?”

You smile and look at the clock on the lower right of the computer screen—4:02PM. “Yeah, I can still make it. Are you gonna come here or just meet at the chicken place?”

“No, I’ll come to you—ACK SHINWON, STOP—,” he suddenly yells, and you have to cover your mouth with a hand before you start cackling in the middle of the office. “Yup, yeah, I’ll—no!—I’ll pick you up later, uh-huh!”

Your smile is full-blown by now, extremely entertained at what Shinwon had possibly done to compromise their game. “Okay, love,” you softly say. “I’ll see you later, then.”

A disheartened tune from the game reached your ears and Hongseok sighed, dejected at losing the round. But when he spoke to you again, it’s with all the softness and excitement at seeing you in a few hours. “See you later, sweetie.”

Sweetie. Well that’s new. It’s cute. You kinda like it.

***

There are some days, when everything just seems to be aligned—the stars, the planets, whatever needs to be aligned—that you think you love Yang Hongseok a little more. Sometimes it’s when he’s busy doing something and you call him and he turns to you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. There was one time when you two went out to the dock to just relax and feel the ocean breeze; you were both wearing face masks and caps, but he had held your hand securely in his, and every so often he would squeeze.

It’s times like now, when the sun is streaming through the sheer curtains, light flooding across his face as he sleeps. You’ve been awake for maybe five minutes, just looking at him. Watching. Admiring his beauty. Tracing the way the light bends and shapes itself on his nose, his eyelashes, his plush lips. And suddenly you’re reminded of all the times he’s looked at you fondly, how his nose scrunches when he laughs too hard, how his lips curl back into an open smile or purse up in a pout when he’s trying to be cute, and you’re quite sure you’re in love with this man.

Wow, you’ve got it bad.

“Good morning, sweetie.” His husky voice sends shivers down every inch of your skin. You didn’t notice he’d woken up, and was staring at you like you were him. He extends an arm to splay his fingers across your back and pull you closer, craving warmth in the early morning. “How long have you been awake?” he whispers.

“Just been a few minutes,” you reply, just as softly, willingly tucking your face into his neck and breathing him in. You don’t speak for a long moment, and his breathing is slow and steady that you think he’s fallen back asleep.

“Wanna go out for coffee later?” Hongseok asks, voice louder now, more awake. He runs his hand up and down your back, catching once or twice on the old shirt of his that you’ve taken to wearing to bed recently. “You know, that café with the pink to-go cups.”

You hum. Coffee sounds really good right about now. “I’m game,” you say, scootching closer to him, your personal space heater. “Just give me a minute.”

You feel Hongseok’s chuckle against your cheek and his hold around you tightens. He breathes a sigh. “I’ll need maybe five,” he says; you smile and kiss his neck.

In the end it takes you a full hour to get out of bed, and thirty more minutes to get ready because you keep collapsing back into the comfy sheets. But you do manage to get coffee from that place that has the cute pink to-go cups at 11AM.

***

As much as he loves it, acting takes a hell of a lot of work; memorizing lines, making up subtext, remembering that subtext, remembering your scene partner, remembering set blocking and camera blocking—and so much else. The new role he got in a drama isn’t that big, just a small supporting role. Not that many speaking opportunities, but he’s in so many scenes so he has to figure out how to do stage business on top of taking proper cues. Add to that, Hui has already started making songs, so he can expect more studio time and more work in one or two months.

So much stuff to do, and too little time.

He sighed, dropping his script on the coffee table with a thud, and leaning back onto the studio’s tiny loveseat. Hongseok dragged both hands over his face and closed his eyes, shakily breathing in. Out. In. Out.

God, he loves his job and he’s so grateful to have the opportunity to pursue his passions, but shit. It feels like he can’t breathe sometimes. He knows he just has to calm down, pause for a moment, and take stock of what he has on his plate, to keep his sanity intact. Sometimes it’s just too much.

Knock-knock.

Hongseok jerked up, calling a startled “come in” at the knock. He knows it’s late, and the other members have gone home around two hours ago. Could it be the security guard telling him to get his ass back to the dorm and get some sleep?

The door opens, and your head popping in from behind the jamb. “Hi, sweetie,” you say, and Hongseok automatically relaxes. He didn’t even know he was so wound up in the first place.

He calls your name softly, as if seeing a mirage after walking through miles of desert. “What are you doing here, love? It’s late.”

You close the door behind you and make yourself comfortable next to him on the couch, greeting him with a kiss on the lips. “Well, I thought I would pick you up and we can get some convenience store dinner. Or if you’re too busy, I can just keep you company.” You take his hand, lace your fingers with his. “I’m happy just being with you, Hongseokie.” You flash a small smile at him.

Hongseok sometimes wonders what compelled you to agree to be his girlfriend, during his lowest and most insecure moments. But it’s times like this that brushes those thoughts from his head; he loves you and you love him, and that’s enough. No questions—just gratitude and love and you.

He sighs, feeling his whole body loosen, and envelopes you in his arms. You automatically return the embrace. “Wow, I love you so much.” He presses a kiss to your hair. “Thanks for picking me up.”

You pat his back, smooth your hand up and down. “Anytime, love.”

#pentagon #pentagon hongseok #pentagon hongseok scenario #yang hongseok scenario #pentagon scenarios #fic: hongseok #fic: not spicy #fic: mine

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winryofresembool · 4 years

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Edwin fic: Coffee Shop Reunion

Summary: a cockroach attacks Winry and Ed is there to protect her (sorry I just can’t write a serious summary for this one) Coffee shop AU/modern AU

A/N: Yes, I know, the most cliched AU ever. But I’ve never written one before and I had a lot of fun with this, so I regret nothing! Who knows, MAYBE if you guys like it, I may write more, but I won’t 100% promise anything (committing to LCMTI back in the day was a Lot and I’m not mentally in a place where I can promise I’ll manage to write regular updates). But anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and please, please, review because it has a HUGE power in motivating me!

Genre: general? Bits of drama and fluff

Words: 1700+

Warnings: cockroaches :P (May also be known as Kimblee)

ao3

...

It was just another annoying, busy day at the coffee house for Edward Elric. It was only midday but he had already broken 2 cups, almost lost his temper at 3 customers who were either being rude or taking too long in deciding what they wanted to order while the line started getting longer behind them, and nearly told his boss he was quitting. He was glad he hadn’t done that, though. He really needed the money and being realistic, he knew finding another job wouldn’t be easy for someone as young and inexperienced as him. His brother was still in the hospital and someone had to pay the bills… If his good for nothing dad dared to show up one day, he had no doubt he’d punch the old man right in the face, he thought. Ed was dragged out of his violent fantasies by a new customer, one he didn’t remember seeing before. If he had, he was sure he would remember.

The customer was a young woman, around his age, Ed estimated. Her long, blonde hair was tied on a simple ponytail, and her blue eyes were measuring him as if wondering why he was working in a place like this. She was pretty, but Ed noticed that unlike many other girls that visited this coffee shop, she didn’t pay a lot of attention to her looks. Her mechanic overalls were covered with oil and she also had a tiny oil smudge on her face.

The girl must have noticed Ed’s distraction, because she asked sharply: “Hey?! Do I get service here?”

Ed was going to apologize, but something about her tone set him off. He was already frustrated because of the earlier, so instead he blurted: “What do you want?”

“I may choose another coffee shop the next time if this is how you treat customers…” The girl growled, her eyes gleaming angrily. “But anyway, I’m in a bit of a hurry so a cup of espresso and a sandwich would do. Please,” she added sarcastically.

“Coming,” Ed mumbled and started making the hot drink. One side of him wanted to add salt or pepper (or both) into the drink but he refrained from doing that, knowing this girl would surely complain to his boss, and he was already close to getting fired as he was…

Finally, he delivered the girl’s order (after procrastinating as long as he could without being worried about her attacking him for it) and proceeded to serve other customers. He was still glancing at her from the corner of his eye every once in a while when he was carrying something to that direction. Even though he hated to admit it, something about that girl had raised his curiosity. First of all, she was looking at a map. Not from some phone app, but an actual printed map. Who used those anymore besides older people? It also meant she had probably moved in recently, not yet familiar with this area, Ed concluded.

Second of all, he noticed her having a med school book on the table. A mechanic and a doctor? That sounded like a fascinating combination to Ed, who was studying chemistry and who could have also used a mechanic for his prosthetic leg. But they had just been rather rude to each other, and he wasn’t the type who would go to her and say “Oh hey, sorry about earlier, what would you say if you and I tried to get to know each other better?” So he decided to give up and try to get his mind out of that topic and focus on other customers.

A few minutes later, a dark haired man who reminded Ed of a cockroach arrived into the coffee shop. Something about him made Ed’s neck hair rise a bit despite him ordering and paying just like any other customer would. For a while the man seemed to be contemplating where to sit, and to Ed’s annoyance he found just the seat he wished that man wouldn’t leave alone – next to the blonde girl.

“Is this seat taken?” the man asked, but he had already put his coffee on the table, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere even if she said no.

“Uh, I guess it isn’t…” The girl said unnecessarily, the man already sitting when she finished her answer.

“Good. What’s the name of my pretty companion?”

The girl wondered if she should have felt complimented or annoyed, but she chose the latter. “I’m Winry.”

When she didn’t say anything else, he asked: “What are you reading?” nodding towards the girl’s book.

“Just something for school… Sorry, but I’m a bit busy here,” she took the book and tried to focus on reading it, but that wasn’t working. The man was still staring at her.

“Could you please stop watching me like that?” Winry finally said when he hadn’t moved his gaze from her for at least 3 minutes.

“What, can’t a man look at a pretty girl?”

“No, not when I don’t even know you, yet your stare screams ‘I own you’,” Winry answered honestly, trying to keep her voice calm even though it was getting hard.

“Excuse me?” The man started to lose his cool. “I have to look at something and you happen to be right in front of me.”

“Yes, because you sat right there on purpose. There are plenty of empty seats in this café yet you chose that exact spot,” Winry pointed out. She wasn’t wrong; the rush hour was already over and there weren’t that many customers around currently.

“So? It’s a free world. And you said I could sit here,” he kept insisting.

“I did not…”

“Excuse me?” Ed, who had noticed the raised voices, finally interrupted them. “Is there a problem here?”

“No,” Winry said, not wanting the rude barista to meddle in. She could handle that stranger on her own. However, the older man told Ed: “Yes. This woman said I wasn’t allowed to sit here even though it was a free seat.”

“I think that’s because you were bothering her,” Ed snarled, giving the man a glare that could have probably killed a weaker person.

“I was just sitting here!”

“Try being stared at like that for 5 minutes and then tell me if it was ‘just sitting’. You were looking at her like she’s an object!” Ed growled, each word getting more threatening. “Listen, dude. I give you two options. Either you leave her alone, or I will call the security. Or remove you from here personally.” Ed may not have been tall, but he looked like a man who stood behind his words, so the raven haired man decided to listen to him, even if just this one time. He did mumble something about Ed’s boss, though, as he passed him.

When he had left the scene, Winry spoke: “Thanks. Though you wouldn’t have had to.”

She sounded mildly defensive to Ed, to which he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow with annoyance.

“Oh OK. Well, the next time someone tries to harass you, I’ll just leave you to handle it on your own.” He grunted and turned back to go and serve other customers.

“Wait. Sorry. I didn’t mean to… I mean, I appreciate your help.” Winry said quietly and gave Ed an ashamed look. She hadn’t meant to snap like that.

He took a couple of steps back towards her, his face now worried.

“Does that kind of thing happen to you often?” he asked with a lot softer voice than earlier.

“Uh… it wasn’t the first time,” Winry admitted. “But I am from a small town so it is a bit different there…”

“I’m sorry that some of us can be such idiots…” Ed shook his head, looking like he genuinely meant it. “And sorry about that earlier, I was being quite an asshole too. It’s been a rough day…”

“I guess we all have those sometimes…” Winry sighed.

“Sorry if I’m prying but can I ask where you have moved from? You see, I’m from a small place myself, moved here after my mother’s death…” Ed wasn’t sure why he mentioned that to a stranger but for some reason it felt right, like he had known her way longer than 5 minutes.

“Oh, I’m from Resembool”, Winry noted, “You probably haven’t heard of it, it’s just a small village. I moved here only 2 weeks ago.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Ed exclaimed. “I’m from there too…” The puzzle pieces started connecting in his head. “Wait a sec, I think… I think I know you. You’re Winry Rockbell, aren’t you?”

“I am, but how… Ed? Edward Elric?” Realization struck Winry as she took in the barista properly for the first time. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize that antenna, you still have it,” Winry started laughing. In reality, Ed’s golden eyes were what had given him out, but she wasn’t going to tell that to him, not yet anyway.

“Oh, nice to see you remember my antenna,” Ed said, smirking. “It’s like my trademark at this point.”

“I remember one time when our teacher was annoyed by it and tried to press it down without success,” Winry smiled at the memory.

“I still haven’t forgiven that old witch…” Ed said, pretending to be angry. “But anyway…” Suddenly he seemed a bit awkward. “I know this may feel a bit fast especially after what just happened… But if you ever want someone to show you some places here or anything… I could be interested in doing that.”

“Well, as long as you know that if you act like that creeper just did, I WILL kick your ass.” Winry smiled mischievously. “But sure, I’d like that!”

She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from her bag and gave it to Ed, who wrote his phone number down on it.

“If you don’t want to contact me, that’s fine,” he noted, “but in all honesty, some change would be nice for me too. The coffee house life can be pretty dull sometimes…”

“I believe you,” Winry nodded. “We’ll see what’s gonna happen this weekend! But I think you should go back now, there’s quite a line there.” She referred to the customers waiting to be served, and Ed realized with embarrassment he had stayed talking with her much longer than planned.

“Oh. Right. But maybe I’ll see you soon!”

“Yep, maybe.” Winry winked at him before collecting her stuff and leaving the coffee house.

#edwin #edxwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fullmetal alchemist #my fics #coffee shop au

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thatonegirlwhodoesthings · 4 years

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End Of Year Review

Last time I was here I was way more of a mess yet I had way too much hope and, thankfully, I was right in having hope. Now, here I am at the end of the year in December and so much has changed but that comes with graduating and transitioning into college. Here is my end of year review in which I express what I learned about the world and about others that has impacted what I know and thought I knew about myself.

I spent half of my July unsure if I was even going to have the opportunity to actually go to college. I worked so hard and was so scared but when July 15th came and I paid my first bill to my school I knew that this was my opportunity. I also knew I needed to work really hard to be able to stay so, on top of this new pride in knowing I was actually, officially going to be going to college, I needed to take on more responsibility and got a second job. July is when I really started working my first job and it was new and exciting. Getting called in on my days off, having something to do and with this came a new sense of pride that I was working towards what I wanted. I became, to some extent, less reliant on my mother. Having two jobs allowed me to prove to myself, and other (but mostly me) that when I want something, I will work for it.

August was eventful. As it was getting closer to move in day, closer to me finally achieving a goal that has been MONTHS in the making, life around me seemed to fall apart a little bit. I was so focused on my goals and did not have the time or energy to dwell on the domestic abuse my mother was facing, forcing us, just months before one big transition in my life, to make another one. My mother and I were forced to leave our home and move in with her friends because it was the only way she could feel safe in the face of her abusive substance abusing boyfriend. While it was not the easiest thing to go through or witness for a second time in my life in a minimal amount of years, staying focus and having something I was working towards and looking forward to was helpful. Halfway through the month, after finishing at both my jobs and learning so much not only about pushing myself but also about the usefulness of saying no, I packed my things and moved 3 hours away to NYC for school. I was 18, not too naive but eager to learn and experience new things. Orientation in itself was an experience. I met so many new people and some ending up having such an impact on my life, even if they no longer exist as a necessary part of it now. They were relevant when I needed them and aided me for the time being.

September was when things started to pick up speed. If you told me in September that what happened would happen, I would tell you you were insane. I lost a friend, who even after only knowing a few weeks, was a person who was there for me, just turns out we were not meant to stay friends and that is okay.More importantly, I became closer with other people I had met and even met somebody knew who holds his own special place in my heart. I also, to my pleasure, had my first sexual experience with a girl while I was drunk and I would never trade that experience for anything. Even if I could not remember her name after and can barely remember it now. This night was actually the first night I really talked to him. Yes, I met him. He, had my heart thumping in September, filled with joy after experiencing this new moment with somebody I had never had before. He caused plenty of useless confusion for me that I know cannot even remember but without it, probably would not be where we are today.

October, my birth month, was nice in its own way. It was when I began getting close with her. Not only with her though, but I also got to know other people I had not known that well. I am forever grateful for these people as they created a community that I feel I could be apart of, while not having to always be apart of. Distance, I learned, is necessary for me. I need space from people in that being around the same ones constantly drives me crazy. This fact, is something I truly got comfortable with around this time. I also, against my free will, got closer with him but that's alright. I had a pleasant birthday and, came out to my longtime friend. She is great and I love her. I, being a little bitch, had to use ridiculous analogies to come out but it is difficult when somebody has known you a certain way for so long. You do not want to alter that image they have of you and possibly ruin the relationship. Her, being the bestest friend ever, was supportive and it unlocked this part of my life that I had been wanting to tell her. I finally had that chance.

October was disappointing still, in some ways, in that I did not do as well as I would have liked on my midterms. I was at school to do well and succeed, to further my education. And here I was, blowing that aspect off. It manifested itself in my less than satisfactory grade on my psych midterm. However devastating that was, it encouraged me to study for my other midterms which, thankfully, I did much better on. It was a reminder that procrastination got me nowhere and I needed to focus. It lead to me taking more thorough notes the second half of the semester and studying more.

While the first half of October leading up to my birthday was eventful in itself, Halloween was its own ballpark. You see, a week before I kissed her for the first time while I was tipsy and then went to him. It, for the first time, brought up a real issue I had to deal with. I like these two people and I do not want to hurt either of them. Halloween, I went to a party with her and, as a drunk dumbass, made out with her. I enjoyed it but it did nothing but confuse me.

November was filled with me going back and forth between him and her. I did not know what or who I wanted and while that part has not changed, I am dealing with the situation in a healthier way, to some extent at least. It was also filled with me getting my first writing job and therefore, my first step in the door to working with authors in the future and possibly writing myself. Furthermore, it taught me, more than anything, the absolute necessity of communication but we are still working on that one. It was also the first time I went home since August and it was interesting to see how nothing really changes when you leave. I feel as if I could leave home for years and come home and be completely unfazed. Everything is a cycle here. It is nice to be somewhere and go places where everything is always new. I don’t think I want to be stuck watching these cycles anymore now that I know how much more interesting life can be. I went to a wedding too and it was so beautiful. It reminded me that even if for a moment, love does exist, no matter what it turns into. It is so tragic how we let bad experiences way more heavily upon us than the good. Anyway, the wedding was great and it made me excited for when I marry my wife. So many people were complaining but I thought it was beautiful anyway. Watching those little moments between the bride and groom, even if nobody was sober, was so impactful. That is what I want from my wife and I want to not be afraid to let myself have it.

In December, I came back to campus a wreck. I spent a week long break barely talking to anybody and ignoring the two people who had the most impact in my life. The worst thing is me getting way too high my first night back and then having to have a serious conversation with her. I think she did not notice, but that night is blurry to me. A positive from that however, thanks to her, we were back on good terms after not speaking for two weeks and it brought us, to my displeasure, closer. That’ll be painful later but for now, all is good. Until I face the reality that there is a small possibility that I'll never see her again but that's neither here nor there and I have no right to be selfish and make that situation about me. I am concerned about her and hope she is okay or as okay as any college student can be. I just want to see her happy honestly. She deserves that at least. He I did not talk to for two weeks as well. Not talking to him until a week after I got back, I got drunk and was like alright I need to see him, after listening to Marvin's Room and crying which is my civil duty as an over-dramatic light skin. I then got more drunk and forced us to talk about our feelings. Now, we are in a better place we have been in awhile.

I left for break in a really good mindset. I feel as if I am in a good spot with the relationships in my life. I am the best mentally I have been in a while and honestly, have little stress. I am going to soak in this place for as long as I can.

So, how would I rate my year overall. As far as learning goes and accomplishments, I would give myself a ⅘ stars. I accomplished so much and have learned so much. I have done so much and experienced so much. I accomplished things that, if you told my bum ass a year ago, I would say no, I did not do that because I would have never tried. Mentally I would give this year a ⅖. I have had some of my lowest lows that I have had in a LONG time. I believe that comes with big changes and new experiences though. It was just me trying to figure things out and, hopefully, in the future I will be able to process and handle similar situations better. I appreciate this year for everything it gave. Everything it taught me. Everyone it brought in and took out of my life. This will be a year I look back at and call life changing and I am so thankful for that.

Thank You 2019.

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commanderquill · 6 years

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Anything Can Be -- Part Two

<< PART ONE

PART THREE >>

Summary: Barry doesn't know much beyond the space station he calls home. After all, he doesn't have to travel worlds to help innocent people as a Chief Inspector on Central Space Station. But he's put to the test when a Green Lantern, the stuff of myths and legends, shows up one night insisting he didn't kill the Blue Lantern bleeding out beside him. And as if that wasn't hard enough, they have only a few weeks to solve the case -- before the Guardians of the Universe come take Hal Jordan away.

When Barry gets to J Deck, he finds that most people have already left their stations. It’s time for the day’s switch, as people clock out early and their replacements clock in late. It’s disorienting to see people getting started on their work when Barry is just about ready to retire for the night. Even still he sometimes forgets that there’s an entire second life to the space station he’s never encountered.

“Hey, Patty,” he says, beelining for her desk, grateful to see that she hasn’t left yet. She’s ruffling through one of her drawers, no doubt trying to locate some file she buried there last week. Patty is more unorganized than he is, and that’s saying a lot.

“Hey,” she says, glancing up briefly to smile at him. “Mr. Nightlight is in interrogation room nine. Albert just finished getting a DNA sample.” She returns to her work. Barry shuts his mouth, as she’d already answered the question he was about to ask. It makes him feel awkward, now that he’s walked all the way up to her desk but no longer has anything to say. He tries a different tactic.

“Would you believe me if I told you I just wanted to see if you were free tomorrow?”

She pauses only to send him the most straight look, her short blonde hair swinging slightly in front of her face.

“No?”

“No.” She’s right, but guilt twists in his gut, and he’s about to protest until she smiles and says, “You’re a workaholic, Bar. But so am I.”

He matches her smile hesitantly. “We really should catch up sometime, though,” he says.

“Convince chief to give us a damn break and I’ll happily take you up on that. I’ve been meaning to show you this sad excuse for a cooking show that I’m streaming from Galafro. Can’t understand a word of it, but I’m pretty sure what they call food was never meant to be consumed.” She gives him a shark’s grin as he backpedals away from her.

“Sounds gross,” he says with a wrinkle of his nose.

“That’s the point!” she calls after him as he turns the corner.

The interrogation rooms are a series of nine rooms set up in a half-circle on the police station’s perimeter. Each room is remarkably soundproof but only separated by one wall, making it quick work to pass them all to room nine at the very end.

When he enters, the Green Lantern stares him down. It’s almost unnerving, to be on the other end of that stare. He’s seen suspects in a wide range of emotions, from desperate to pissed, when they sit in this room. Intensity tends to come along with those. But it’s never intensity like this, of the eager and quiet kind. Barry nods at him. “Hi,” he says lamely.

“You’re a CSI,” the Green Lantern says immediately. “What are you doing here? Someone already took a piece of my hair.”

“My name is Barry Allen. I’m the Chief Inspector of this station, and I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“I didn’t do it,” the Green Lantern insists immediately. “I--”

“Okay.”

That stops the Green Lantern in his tracks. But instead of looking relieved, he seems to grow even more suspicious. “If you know that, then why am I still here?”

“You’re a cop, right? Or something like it, anyway.” He holds the Lantern’s eyes as he slowly pulls out a chair and sits down across from him. He sets his messenger bag on the table and pulls his tablet out from the smallest compartment.

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re our only suspect. If you don’t want to remain our only suspect, I suggest you cooperate and answer my questions.”

He doesn’t say anything. Barry flips his notepad open to a blank page. “Let’s start with the basics. What’s your name?”

“...Guy Gardner. G-U-Y. G-A-R-D-N-E-R.”

Barry spells it out on the top of his notes. “Okay, Mr. Gardner. Why don’t you tell me how you know Miss…?”

“Sister Sercy.”

“Right.”

“She’s a--” Abruptly, Gardner stops and declares: “Wait. I want a lawyer.”

Barry frowns at him. “Are you trying to sue someone?”

“What? No,” Gardner says, frustrated. “But I have the right to an attorney.”

“No you don’t,” Barry says, carefully. “Who told you that?”

Gardner takes a moment to curse under his breath. “No one. Nevermind. Okay, so. I know Sercy because she’s the fourth or something Blue Lantern, and I--”

His pencil stops, and he just barely refrains from snapping his head up to look at Gardner. “Blue Lantern?” he says, as neutrally as possible, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds.

“Yeah,” Gardner says, unfazed.

“Explain.”

Gardner frowns. “You people know about Green Lanterns and the color yellow, but you’ve never heard of a Blue Lantern?”

Rumors. He’s heard rumors, starting maybe just two years ago, about new Lanterns flying through the cosmos. No one knew where they came from. No one knew what they could do. Once, there was a whisper of a Red Lantern. He heard it while in the middle of a crowd, so quiet he’d thought he’d imagined it, of destruction and devastation wrought on a planet stranded on the fringes of Lantern inhabited space.

When there’s no response forthcoming, Gardner says, “Hope,” like that answers every question he’s ever had. Before he can ask another, the Lantern continues: “Sercy was a priestess, I think, on… wherever she came from. Brother Hymn found her and brought her to Elpis, and I met her when I went to see that little blue troll for a thing. There aren’t a lot of Blue Lanterns, and they’re help like no other against the Reds and Yellows, so when we team up they all tag along. I guess you could call us coworkers.”

Barry occupies himself by writing on his notepad, because the alternative would be staring blankly at Gardner. What is this, a Lantern rainbow? “It doesn’t seem like you were very close, then,” he comments when he’s done.

“Uh, no, not really. We ran into each other here.”

“Start from the beginning.”

“Right. Well, I was on my way to Oa, and like I said, I ran into her in this star system. Our paths intersected, I think she was heading back to Elpis. We decided to rest up here so we could catch up a little. She wasn’t in a hurry and I was procrastinating, so we got rooms and went to the lounge. We were both on the figurative road for a while. Space travel, even with a ring as fast as ours, still takes super long, and there isn’t a habitable planet for light years after this stop.”

He brings his hands up, goes to grip his hair with his fingers and remembers that they’re in a yellow sheath. He stiffly lowers them back down to the table.

“But I couldn’t sleep yet, and I went to go see if maybe her sleep schedule was just as fucked as mine, and I just… I found her. Like… that. Dead. Outside her own cabin… Fuck.” He crosses his arms on the table and drops his forehead onto where they meet. Despite the position, his next words are still clear. “I’m used to shit like this. She was too. This line of work, it’s dangerous. And I’ve always been in this line of work, even before becoming a space cop. But we let our guard down in times of peace. Even I do. War is different. You go to war expecting to die, because if you end up living, then you get to actually celebrate something that isn’t your buddy’s funeral. But in peace…” He scoffs. It’s a full-body effort. “Peace. All Will Be Well my ass, SaintWalker.”

“I want you to explain to me what exactly you did next, step by step. If you thought a thought, I want to know what it was. If you stepped an inch to the right, I want to know when. Begin when you’re ready,” he instructs softly, after a moment of respectful silence. Gardner takes a few more seconds just to breathe before lifting his head.

“I walked up the hall. The direction you came from. I saw her laying on the ground, and… I knew she was dead. I couldn’t see the blood on the ground at first, though. She was too far away. So I walked over to her and it was just… everywhere. I wanted to check if maybe there was a chance at saving her, so I asked the ring to scan for signs of life, and it came back negative. So I turned her back over and tried to take the knife out. She… I couldn’t leave her like that. A Blue Lantern, killed by a fucking knife. That’s just… It’s wrong.”

“Have either of you been here before?”

“I have. This is the perfect place for a quick stop between far space and Oa. But I don’t know about Sercy. Blue Lanterns are notorious for never leaving Elpis. They’re like monks. They don’t like to travel, just live in peace and harmony by themselves. She seemed to know her way around, though.”

“Do you know who might dislike her? Something she mentioned, maybe?”

Gardner shakes his head. “No. She’s a private person. Blue Lanterns in general are relentless optimists. They don’t like to complain or talk about the bad things that have happened.”

“Did she ever tell you where her cabin was?”

“Yeah. How else would I have found her?”

“And where did she tell you this information?”

“Uh, one of the lounges on G Deck. One of the exterior-facing ones. I could see Docking Port 23 from the window.

“When was this?”

“A few hours ago.”

“Can you tell me anything that stood out to you in that room? Or even just the specific room number?”

“It… might have been L36. Uh…” Barry waits as the Green Lantern thinks. “The barista. He had this long black hair, tied it back in this weird triple bun type deal. Didn’t know what hot chocolate was. He knew Sercy by name, and we were at the bar when she told me. The lounge was pretty crowded, there were people all around us. I don’t remember.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m so stupid. I’m always supposed to be on alert. Kilowog is gonna kick my ass,” he says bitterly.

Barry finishes writing down his notes, then leans back in his chair with a sigh. The day’s grind is catching up to him, and he can feel the heaviness start to settle in his lower back. This kind of work is aging him way faster than he wants to be aging. But his mind is reeling, and he can’t seem to muster up the usual desire to get out of the station and relax on his bed. There’s no mystery as to why. “Who’s Kilowog?” he asks curiously, carefully.

“My drill sergeant,” Gardner says. “A tough-as-nails hardass. Always preaching that I need to keep my eyes peeled for anything. Imagine how good I’d be if I actually listened to him?” There are many other questions he wants to ask, but there’s a line he needs to draw for the sake of professionalism that prevents him from asking. “Did she talk to anyone else at the lounge?”

“No.”

“Was she expecting to meet up with anyone? Did she talk about knowing anyone at the station?”

“No. Just the barista.”

“Where did you go after the lounge?”

“We went our separate ways after the lounge. I went back to my room because I was beat, she went… to the market, I think.”

“You said you couldn’t sleep.”

“What?”

Barry narrows his eyes. “You told me you couldn’t sleep, and that’s why you sought her out. Now you’re saying you went to bed early because you were tired.” Gardner pauses, like he’s either trying to remember saying that or he wasn’t expecting Barry to notice, but Barry didn’t get this job by being unobservant. “I have a hard time sleeping sometimes,” he says awkwardly.

Barry doesn’t answer, preferring instead to look on in silence for a while after. Gardner must understand what he’s doing, though, because he doesn’t even fidget.

“Did she say what she was going to get from the market?”

“No.”

“So you have no idea why she was going?”

“I just said that.” “Do you know the barista’s name?”

“No.”

“What time were you there?” “I don’t know. A few hours ago.”

Barry nods curtly, takes a final glance at his notes, then flips the booklet closed.

“Am I free to go?” Gardner asks, but it’s in a resigned monotone. Barry wonders why he even bothered asking if he knew the answer was going to be no.

“Officer Kin will be through in a moment to show you to your cell. Thank you for your cooperation,” he says, and gets briskly up from his seat. He’s almost out the door when he turns around and takes a last look. The green glow of Gardner’s mask casts a sickly light on his pale cheeks. He looks small sitting there. Nothing like an intergalactic hero. “Mr. Gardner,” he says, and it takes a moment for Gardner to glance up. “If you didn’t do this, I will do everything in my power to help you and bring the real killer to justice.”

Gardner sighs. “Look. You seem like a good guy. I don’t know how the justice system here works, but if it’s anything like where I come from then I just I don’t have that kind of time.”

He must think that Barry is just going to leave after that, because he doesn’t continue. “What do you mean?” he prompts.

“When a Lantern dies, their ring comes off and typically finds a new host. Sometimes it goes back to their central power battery, or wherever the guardian of it dictates. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that no one in this station has spontaneously turned blue and started flying yet?”

Barry shakes his head.

“Then it’s probably on its way to Elpis, directly or through a new Lantern on a nearby planet. When it gets there and the rest of the corps learns that their Lantern is dead, they’ll discover where the ring came from and they’ll come find who’s responsible. I didn’t kill her, Barry. But they won’t wait for your justice system to figure out who the real killer is. Especially not once they tell the little blue trolls on Oa about it. I’d say I have maybe two weeks, if that.”

“I can’t do anything about that. Investigations take time. I’m sure we can negotiate with the… Blue Lanterns when they get here.”

“Blue Lanterns, maybe. But good luck trying to negotiate anything with the Guardians.”

“I’m sure they’ll be reasonable.”

Gardner scoffs, but says nothing more.

Barry has nothing to add to that, so he takes his leave. He shuts the heavy door behind him and stares for a moment, overwhelmed, at the far wall. He looks to his left, where Officer Kin on guard duty isn’t even trying to hide his curiosity. “How fast can you pull up the security footage of all that?” Barry asks. “I think I need to listen to it a few million more times.”

#halbarry #preslash #fanfic #comicroute #wip #green lantern #the flash #barry allen #hal jordan #space au #space station au #murder mystery #sci fi #chapter 1 #part 2

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k-bloggs · 6 years

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Have an embarrassing read at something i tried to write a couple years ago. back when i was happy lol

My First Blog. – 20/11/16

Okay, so here goes. This is my first ever attempt at anything like this really. I have written before in many different formats and styles but I don’t know what’s come over me lately but I feel inspired to write again and I know as well as anyone else this isn’t a typical feeling that comes along every so often so by fuck I am gonna’ grab it and take a chance and see where I end up. I literally just unlocked and locked my phone again there because I’m trying to have a proper focused dedicated mind to attempting this. I’m not even too sure what I’m supposed to do in a blog, what even is a blog? I don’t know but I know that I’ve wanted to start making a journal of things that are going on in my life but due the fact I am extremely lazy this may be very seldom so the next update could be quite a while so don’t expect anything too frequent.

Like I said I’m not even too sure what I am meant to be doing or how I am even meant to go about it, I am a firm believer in the fact that writing doesn’t have to be performed or practised in any particular way. That there is essentially no wrong or right way in how it is carried out or laid out, but I feel like I just want to do something a bit more productive with my life from now on. A long childhood friend has recently started doing animations and making his own videos and uploading them to YouTube and to be quite honest they are great, its so great to see something like that, the thing about Ryan Is that our friendship took a bit of a standstill when we were kids must have been between the ages of 8 and 10 at least. Ryan and his family were emigrating to New Zealand and as a kid yeah you see this as a big thing but you don’t realise the likelihood of seeing them as often is completely and utterly abolished due to the fact you have no idea how much it would cost to fly out there. Ryan must be around 18 or 19 now and I just turned 20 there this year, and its great to see we still have so much in common, to just spit it out and be clear after seeing that this is what he into it kind of inspired me to get back to what I love doing. I love writing. I’m not so much of a reader which is the weird thing, again all down to my laziness, if a book doesn’t get my attention within the first paragraph or so I find it very hard to stick with it or even go back to it if I do manage to finish a chapter. The same applies for the likes of articles and campaigns and any form of literature really. But I thought hey you know what it’s about time I started doing what I love and even more its about time I start love what im doing.

Just to be clear, this year has probably been one of the biggest milestones of my life. I finally did it, I finally got a girlfriend. Fuck. It’s still weird even saying that, so yeah I will leave the ultimate love story of the century to maybe the next blog or edition whatever the fuck you want to call this. This is mainly just for me to get to grips with the style that im going to write in, if I do choose to carry on with this (Which I feel like I will). If anyone reads this yeah, awesome im happy someone out there is reading my stuff but to be honest this if for me as much as it is for anyone else out there. I want to see what I can do and if this really is the best time to get back into writing, basically one side of me is saying yeah what the hell go for it you need something like this but at the same time as there always is, the polar opposite emotion of just fear I guess? Not wanting to pick something up again only to go off my track record and drop this 5 minutes later like I do with everything else? But hey its 7.15pm on a frosty Sunday night in November, what else am I going to do? Sit, procrastinate and wish I had of done something useful.

Not that im going off track because essentially there isn’t much to this article its just me spamming a lot of stuff down so who ever reads this can kind of of get a grip of where I am right now in life and basically why I’m doing this. So here goes, I dropped out of college for last week. For the second time…

Yeah im officially a two time college dropout, nothing t be proud of I assure you, but im just waiting for the opening credits to roll ad realise im in the first scene of a really shitty coming of age movie where im the older brother your parents don’t want you to turn out like.

But yeah, I left school at 16 and went to a technical college, basically an establishment which offers a-levels to people who didn’t get back into school or else didn’t want to go back to school. I studied a 2 year course in creative media production and honestly it was awesome, it was so fucking cool and the course didn’t have that many uninteresting or boring areas, but yeah you guessed it I was lazy didn’t do any of the work and just took advantage of the whole independent learning aspect of it and never bother showing up for class plus a whole pile of other steamy shit went on that year that we are just not gonna discuss at this moment in time. But coming towards the end of the second year when the course was gonna finish and In a couple months after that I would figure out if I got the grades to get into the uni of my choice I asked my teachers if they would be wiling to let me come back and repeat the second year of the course. They were more than happy to, they gave me exactly what I needed, a fresh slate and a chance to correct myself, and you know what happened? Yeah your right I totally blew it and fucked up again just hated the thought of working or studing in media for any longer. Like I loved making short films and writing screenplays and everything I even liked some of the assignments but basically I had it in my head I didn’t want a career from this anymore due to the fact it was something I loved so much and it was basically kicking my ass all day, all fucking week long. The only thing that got me through that repeated year of college was the girl of my dreams and we weren’t even going out yet. But as said before there is more to come with her, she deserves the whole word so the least I can do is dedicate one sole piece of writing to me and her and our story, truth is there are not enough words in the world to even begin to describe who she is and how she thinks and works and even jus to describe how she came into my life, yes a combination of letters on a page or screen may work for some people but no, not for her. This girl is a queen from another realm, she is a princess from a faraway kingdom, she is an angel from heavens further and beyond the highest clouds. She is the love of my life and that is the only way to explain her and who she is. But getting back to the educational fuck ups In my life, here goes the explanation to how I arrived here, 5 days after dropping out of another course. This time I was studying IT, you know trying to go down that route of career, thinking of my future and what not? Yeah that didn’t go to plan either, I basically rejected a full time promotion on good money and I hadn’t regretted anything as much in my life. Basically college was another fuck up and let’s just say I managed to get out and finished a bit earlier this time rather than waste my own time and anyone else’s. Plus, if I carried on with these next two years that would 5 years of studying A-levels just for me to be a whining little bitch about how I didn’t want to go to university. I am just at the stage of my life now, not where I am considering moving out and settling down but some things don’t appeal to me the same as they used to. Going to uni and living and experiencing that independence in life and finding a career path and devoting the rest of my life to something I may not even be happy at? Na, no thanks not for me. Not at this moment in time anyway. For right now I’m happy enough to keep my eyes and ears open for what all jobs are available for me and what foot to put next in front of me. Get a couple extra pounds in my pay check each fortnight and you know that might do for year or so. Maybe get back on the studying boat in a year or two and carry on with the IT. That is, you know if I don’t become like a stereotypical copy of a character you would expect to see in a ‘Community’ reboot.

I was watching a clip of Jim Carey giving a speech a couple of days ago and basically what I got from it was that he had returned to his old school or college or university or whatever in order to give a commencement speech or he was receiving his award or something anyway not really vitally important. What is important is what he said in his speech, basically his message he was getting across as in most motivational speeches, is the reinforcement of using fear to help you rather than to put you off, accepting fear and accepting that no matter what you will fail, but that’s okay and if it wasn’t for the fact that accepting it you wouldn’t have the drive to reach for greatness like so many greats have done before you, whether they have made it to great fame and fortune or if it was just the regular girl from a small town who made a life and career for herself because it’s what she wanted to do. Anyway, Carey says, “You will only ever have two choices, love or fear. Choose love and don’t ever let fear turn you against your playful heart.” Basically what Carrey is telling us here is to embrace fear, don’t avoid it, stare down the barrel of its gun charge at it and conquer it, but never let it conquer you, never let fear become the objective always make sure it rises no more than an obstacle in your course, a mountain you must climb or a hurdle you must leap over. Defeating fear is never the final piece of the puzzle. Like walking in a straight line, you put your left leg forward and then do exactly the same with your right, repeat until you arrive where you need to be? Well, fear is that first big step. The first big step into a new world and a new environment and mind set and who knows what it’s going to throw at you. But you need to remember that it’s there to make sure you don’t triumph in whatever you set out to do, but you can’t move forward without taking that step. Then comes the next step, failure. And as stated before yeah, your gonna fail, your gonna fail and you’re going to fuck up and mess up and trip up, over and over and over again, this is the repetitive steps the same as walking that we take to go in a straight line, the same works with this. Without taking the same repetitive bullshit same old story steps in life, we will never reach the finish line that is success.

#blogging #cringe #first blog #wiriting

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gobigorgohome2016 · 6 years

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Can You Have Too Much Fire?

In high school I had this awesome shirt that was meant to represent your zodiac element. The shirt was red, spelled out “fire,” and listed all the traits of a fire sign: passionate, larger than life personality, enthusiastic, quick temper, over achiever, direct, stubborn, attention seeking, etc. For 16 year old me, IT WAS LIKE SOMEONE PUT MY ENTIRE LIFE ON A T-SHIRT. Mind blown.

My favorite quote as a high school runner was, “if the fire is hot enough, it will burn anything.” Later, I became really annoyed when I heard this quote used more often to describe metabolism, but to me, it meant that if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen on sheer willpower alone. [as a Speedway resident, I can no longer say willpower without thinking about the IndyCar driver, Will Power. Sigh.]

As I’ve figured out since high school, my best trait is also, by far, my worst. If there is anything I have learned these past couple weeks of 2018 is that if I was lacking fire in the fall, I have more than made up for that deficit now.

When I sat down in December to look at the year ahead, there were some changes that I wanted to make. I love New Year’s resolutions. I also love rules (ironic, yes?). I’ve always been jealous of people who stick to things that make the planning side of their lives easier. My friend does “Meatball Monday,” “Wok Wednesday,” “Soup Sunday,” etc. How fun is that? So, my resolutions have been thinly veiled by similar rules:

Makeup Monday (don’t let makeup go to waste, so use an item in my makeup drawer that gets the least amount of love)

Timer Tuesday: Instant Pot day. The Instant Pot is an amazing - yet slightly intimidating – machine. Every Tuesday I make a different recipe from the cookbook that was included with the IP so that I can better learn how to use it.

Wakeup Wednesday: I run with a friend on Wednesday mornings which means I get up at 5:30 AM. We haven’t run together in FOREVER ( ☹ ) but I really like the routine so I wake up at 5:30 or 6:00 on Wednesdays, get my run out of the way, and then nap.

Tulsi Thursday: Tulsi tea is great for recovery, and I usually do my last hard workout of the week on Thursdays. Tusli Thursday is just a reminder to be more mindful in my recovery.

Refresh Friday: I hate being wasteful, especially with food, so on Fridays I use the oldest ingredients in my refrigerator / pantry.

Self-Care Saturday: self-explanatory

Seafood Sunday: also self-explanatory (and cheating. Dave and I have done seafood on Sunday for years).

Okay, what does this have to do with fire? Not much. Other than to point out that I am a rule following fanatic at times.

My other focus for the new year was running. I know that I am not fit right now, and I want to do everything in my power to achieve my goals in May. The number one thing I have been lacking since April is consistency, which hasn’t exactly been in my control. As I was looking over the upcoming months, I made notes of how many miles I would like hit each week, how that would stack up against previous years, etc.

Fatal Error.

Two and a half weeks ago, I was out for a long run (18 miles, longest in quite a few months) and my hamstring tightened up towards the end, probably due to the ice and snow. Whatever, not a big deal. Well, it turned out to be a decent-sized deal that left me cross training (so glad I found a trainer recently, and have Netflix again!). Last week I only ran a total of 22 miles and had to cross train the rest of what was supposed to be a 75 mile week.

My first instinct was panic. In fact, my coach received a ton of panicky texts from me. I’m FINALLY getting my mileage back to where I want, and something dumb happens. My second instinct was anger. Why is my body failing me???? (It turns out I wasn’t alone. Rebecca ran 10 of those miles with me and had the exact same hamstring trouble, so I felt better that my body wasn’t simply rejecting running).

A month or two ago I wrote a post about all the things that people assumed about me when I was taking time off post-anemia, and how they wrong. No, I wasn’t mad that I couldn’t run. No, I wasn’t struggling not to run, etc. Well, all of that bit me in the ass this week. I was cranky, rage-y, and jealous of everyone out running. I was crosstraining like crazy (something I rarely do). I was irrationally mad at every person who posted a PR at the many fast races that happened over the weekend. I drove myself crazy.

On the one hand, the return of this fire is such a good sign. I’m ready to compete again. I have the motivation to once more push my body to its limits before giving it a short reprieve and asking it to heal all the damage sustained during the winter and spring and perform its very best on race day.

But, that fire is a double edged sword. Fire also menas a return of my overly competitiveness, and making a conscious effort every day to remind myself to calm the fuck down.

I was reading an interesting/terrifying article a few months back about psychopathic children. Psychopathic traits are genetic, and part of the reason they have not been removed from the gene pool via natural selection is that they can be good in small doses. For instance, a surgeon needs to be cold and unfeeling when performing surgery. Sometimes, however, a kid doesn’t win the genetic lottery and winds up more Jeffrey Dahmer than Doogie Howser (fun fact #37 of this post, my house in Milwaukee was only a couple blocks from where Jeffrey Dahmer committed his crimes).

I often wonder if my innate fire is half psychopathic. I forget sometimes that not everyone quits their career path to follow big dreams that have no guaranteed payout and 100% chance of pain, both emotional and physical. It’s not even a question 48 weeks out of the year whether I want to have another beer or go to bed; whether I want to run every day or procrastinate until the end of eternity; whether or not I will eat my kale; whether or not I will train hard for a goal I want to accomplish years from now. The fact that I have zero real obligations everyday and still train full time is nothing short of a miracle. I have never been able to focus on anything the way that I have been able to focus on running.

So, that usually means I need to come up with creative ways to redirect the flames. Sometimes that means journaling my frustrations or writing in my blog. Sometimes it means coming face to face with how out of shape I am and focusing the fire towards making better choices. Sometimes when I’m trying to take a nap I stew over the things I have not yet accomplished, the things that I thought I would have achieved by now. In this moment I think to myself, “yes. There is such thing as too much fire.” But, then I remind myself (usually in list form) that there are things I can control, and things I cannot. If there is anything I have learned, it is that perseverance trumps just about everything else in running.

I’ve already fallen off the consistency measure that I was hoping for in January with my low mileage week last week and cautious build this week. I’m forcing myself to embrace flexibility, which means I’m becoming well acquainted with my bike in the basement. My hamstring is feeling good again and I’m feeling a little bit silly that a couple days off had me plotting the changes I would have to make to my racing season. I’ve relegated myself to the treadmill just to make sure I don’t strain my hammy with the snow and ice that is currently on the ground, just to be safe. I’m hoping for an outdoor run on Friday. If anything, the coals have been stoked because let’s be real: there is nothing like a little setback to remind you just how hot your fire burns.

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vindictivegrace · 7 years

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Sloppy Seconds

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) x Steve Rogers

Notes: THE TITLE IS SELF EXPLANATORY, PWP, one shot, smut. Established relationship (Bucky x Reader), unlabeled relationship dynamic, explicit sex scenes, messy sex, threesome, DP, the author is going to hell for this, her bags are already packed

Summary: You and Bucky head home, ready to place the finishing touches on your date night. Steve calls, and everyone gets what they needed.

A/N: I needed this, too. Partly because I’m procrastinating on another story I should be writing, partly because I haven’t posted any new fics in a while, and partly because I needed this. Did you need it too? Let me know what you think, and as always—enjoy! ^_^

Bucky held your hand gently with his flesh one, leading you down the hallway to his room. You were both quiet but giggling innocently. Date night had gone well. It was a simple night out—movie and a dinner. You always preferred it in that order instead of the other way around. Watching the movie first meant that dinner didn’t have to be rushed. But you two skipped dessert to save time anyway. The real treat would come later in the night.

You were back in Bucky’s room. The lights were dimmed and soft ambient music filtered through Bucky’s computer speakers. The mood was set just the way you liked it. He approached you quietly, eying you sweetly. Both of your clothes came off easily, and soon Bucky had you on the ground in the nest of blankets and pillows set up in the corner. He rested his muscular, naked body between your equally naked legs and leaned over you. Bucky peppered kisses wherever he could until he finally met your lips. He ground his pelvis against yours, feeling your pussy get slick against his cock without slipping himself in quiet yet. He wanted to warm you up first.

Off in the pile of discarded clothes, Bucky’s phone began to ring. Neither of you noticed until it stopped and your phone started ringing right afterwards. Then Bucky’s twice. Back to yours again.

Bucky grinned against your lips before getting to his feet. “Oh right, our treat.” His semi-hard bobbed from side to side as he walked over to the clothes and dug out his phone. It was Steve.

The phone rang again and Bucky answered immediately.

“Hey Steve, you ready to come over?”

“Well what do you think, asshole?” The room was quiet enough that you could hear Steve’s tinny voice through Bucky’s phone. He sounded eager and impatient. You laughed.

Bucky toyed with Steve. “Well I dunno, man,” he replied. “I haven’t even asked Y/N if it’s okay yet.”

Bucky already knew you could hear Steve over the phone. He pulled the phone away to ask you, loud enough for Steve to hear. “Is it all right with you, Y/N? Sounds like he really needs it tonight.” He tried to hold back the sly grin growing in his face, but he couldn’t help himself. You noticed his semi-hard is growing.

You couldn’t help yourself, either.

“Of course, Bucky,” You played along, even though this was the plan the whole night. “It’s been awhile since Steve’s come over, anyway.”

Bucky returned to the call and gave Steve the OK to come over. Not even five minutes later, there was a frantic knocking on Bucky’s door. Either Steve was already in the hallway waiting for you and Bucky to say yes, or he was so desperate he ran over.

As soon as Bucky opened the door, Steve rushed in, flustered, rosy cheeked, breathless, and determined. You were never able to completely prepare yourself for the hurricane of Steve’s lust crashing through. He took off his clothes immediately, and in an instant he was completely nude and occupying the same space between your open legs that Bucky had not a moment ago.

Bucky let out a chuckle. He always got a kick out of Steve when he was like this. Bucky’s expression grew darker as he made his way to the nearby armchair. He made himself comfortable, settling with a sigh and his now large, rock hard cock in his hand. He stroked himself idly, ready to watch as Steve hurriedly had his way with you.

Steve was rough. He shoved himself inside you right away and began thrusting, whether you were ready for him or not. Luckily, Bucky’s little warmup with you made you wet enough to handle it whatever Steve was going to give you. You screamed out anyway.

Steve gripped your upper arms and had you pinned down to the ground hard while he plowed into you relentlessly. He shoved his lips onto yours and kissed you just as wildly. He broke the kiss to lap at the sensitive spot on your neck and sucked hard. You knew your neck would bruise there later. He moved to suck one of your nipples until it hardened between his lips, while he kneaded your other breast as much as he could. His thrusting pace never once faltered.

When he broke away from your chest, his hazy lust filled eyes bore into yours. You gave yourself up to Steve, your body just lax enough to let him have complete control. Soon you were able to catch up with his hurried pace and you were matching him thrust for thrust.

Steve’s hips starting jerking in and out erratically. He was getting close. The first round was always the quickest. That was fine with you (and Bucky) because Steve would be ready for round three in no time.

You reached up to palm the back of Steve’s head and pull him close so yours. “C’mon, Stevie,” you coaxed. “Cum in my pussy. I know you wanna do it. I’m right here for you. Fill me up right, big boy. Make me feel good, big boy. I wanna drip all over with you. Yeah, Stevie, yeah! That’s it! Yeah! Yeah!” you kept huffing.

“Y/N…I…AH!” You felt Steve’s body spasm against yours and his hot cum gathering deep inside you. When he was done, he dropped his full weight on you for a moment. He was breathing hard. His whole face was red, and rosy blotches peppered his large frame. He was glistening. The scent of sweat and spunk already lingered in the air.

Bucky walked up to the nest of blankets and kneeled over to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You okay bud?” Steve nodded. “Why don’t you take a rest over in the armchair? I’ll take it from here.” Steve rolled over and sighed deeply, his forearm covering his face. His softened cock was already hardening again. He’d be back in no time.

Bucky shook his head at the spent super-soldier and assumed his position up against you anyway. If Steve wanted to lay right next to you two and watch, or listen, or pass out, or whatever he was doing on the ground, then so be it, Bucky thought.

“How’re you doing, Y/N?” Bucky checked in with you.

“I’m doing great,” you sighed. “But I would feel better if you got on with it.”

“Of course, doll.” Bucky slid himself inside your pussy and moaned loudly.

Sloppy seconds was Bucky’s absolute favorite—that’s why despite being your boyfriend, he always let Steve fuck you first when the three of you were together. Steve knew how to fill you up just right, and having his cum and your juices coat Bucky’s cock made Bucky’s mind reel with intoxicating pleasure. Bucky liked to go slow and savor the feeling. Your core was so wet and slick and ridiculously hot, and each time he pushed his cock in he could feel Steve’s cum spill out around the edges. It dripped onto Bucky’s balls and splattered up his lower waist and covered your thighs and his. Nothing felt better to Bucky. He lulled his head down and connected his lips to yours, moaning loudly as if he was devouring his first meal after being lost in a desert for weeks on end. Apparently Bucky needed this tonight, too.

Bucky pulled away from your lips and brought his thrusting to a comfortable, sensual pace. It was just enough to keep you wanting for more and a nice contrast to Steve’s jackhammering moment ago. Bucky’s cock moving in and out between the extra cum and your juices made you feel so damn hot down there. Obscene squishing sounds filled the air while Bucky kept fucking you. You were gasping and moaning so much now.

Bucky picked you up, leaned himself back into a seated position, and rested you on his sturdy thighs. He held you down by your ass so he could grind into you more forcefully. Steve’s cum was dribbling out everywhere. Bucky was groaning along with you now and kissing you wherever he could. He made sure to shift you just right so his grinding rubbed up against your clit. When he found the right angle, you shuddered violently and strings of gibberish and curses fell out of your mouth.

“Mmmm…It’s your turn, Y/N,” Bucky breathed out. “That’s it. Just like that, doll. Yes…you’re doing great. You make me feel so good. I wanna make you feel good too. Cum for me, baby. You’re almost there. Yes… I can feel it. You feel great, doll. You feel so good with Stevie’s cum all over my cock. Making a mess all over me,” Bucky cooed against your ear.

Bucky could feel your walls tighten around his cock. Your breath quickened. You and he both were covered in a thin layer of sweat. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck and gave him a messy, tongue-filled kiss right before you broke away groaned out your orgasm.

“Ah…that’s it doll. Mmm…You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Bucky said through your release. He kept fucking into you through your orgasm. Your walls pulsated around his cock through each wave of pleasure, and soon he too was releasing into you. You could feel spurts of warmth blossom from inside your core and the wetness overflow past your entrance and ooze wherever it could go.

“Oh my god…” you huffed out, ecstasy and exhaustion laced in your voice. “Oh my god…” You flopped back onto the pile of blankets and pillows. Bucky fell over to lie next to you. You were both doing whatever you could to catch your breath.

But Steve, who had been jacking off while lying on his side the whole time during Bucky’s round, was alert and ready to go. You turned your head to the side, locking eyes with Steve, and you laughed.

He shrugged at you, and himself, and the whole situation you three were in. “Sorry, Y/N. I can’t help it!” Now he was laughing too. His cock head glistened. Precum was steadily flowing from his slit and pooling onto the floor. Steve always produced so much that he had an unbelievable amount to share. You clenched your legs, fully aware of the fact, feeling his and Bucky’s heated cum and your juices mingling inside your pussy and slowly finding its way out.

You rolled to your side and scooted your body closer to Steve’s. When you got close enough, you reached out with your top hand and laid it over the hand Steve was using to rub himself. He slowed down the work he was doing to himself, opting to let you guide his hand back and forth over his engorged cock.

“Y/N…” he breathed out. The warmth behind his voice washed over your face, and you sighed. You weren’t ready to get fucked again, not yet, and Bucky was still out of it. But you thought of something else you could do to help Steve out in the meantime.

You motioned for Steve to get up and kneel. While he did so, you leaned up and got on your hands and knees right in front of him. You used your hand to encourage Steve let his hand go of his cock, and holding Steve at the base, you took him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, y-y-yess…” Steve stammered. You were thorough with him. You brought his cock deep into your mouth and pulled out slowly, licking the underside of his member with your flattened tongue. You went back and forth this way, again and again. When only his cockhead remained in your mouth, you massaged it between your tongue and your lips. Steve’s precum soaked your lips and dribbled down your chin as it filled your mouth.

You sucked Steve’s cock deep into your mouth again and swallowed his precum, making sure Steve could feel every movement inside your mouth. You closed your eyes and hummed around him, savoring his taste and the whimpers escaping his mouth. Steve’s hands palmed the sides of your face, only allowing it to follow your movements and no more. He was trembling from trying so hard not to fuck a hole through the back of your head like he wish he could.

You yipped. Suddenly you felt a cool palm stroking your ass.

“Mmm, what are you doing, doll? You helping Stevie out like a good girl?” Bucky was kneeling next to you now, looking down Steve’s cock disappearing repeatedly into your mouth. He looked at Steve. “Is that what she’s doing, buddy? Making you feel good? Does her sweet little mouth feel good, pal?” Steve was trying to steady his breathing so he could talk. “Yeah, Buck. Y/N’s mouth feels—oooh!” You started sucking more deliberately and hollowed your cheeks. “Her mouth is amazing,” Steve continued.

“Hey, Stevie. Don’t you think Y/N is amazing?”

“Yeah, umph, she...ah! She is, Bucky. She really is…” “Let’s show her how amazing we think she is then.” Bucky crawled over to kneel behind your ass. He slipped his metal index and middle finger into your core and pumped in and out. His whole hand was immediately coated. Bucky’s actions made you moan around Steve’s cock, causing Steve to groan along with you.

Bucky pulled his fingers out and sucked them into his mouth, lapping up everyone’s intermingled essence, savoring the nuances of the hybrid flavor. He then lined himself up and slipped back into your oversoaked pussy.

No one was talking anymore. Only the sound of skin smacking against skin, squishy wetness, and moans and sighs filled the room. The music had stopped playing long ago, but none of you cared. Steve tightened his hold around your cheeks and snapped his hips against your mouth like he wanted to, and Bucky ground into your pussy from behind, his movements much faster than they were before. The two super-soldiers fell into a rhythm that left you breathless and incapable of pulling back and recuperating—exactly how you liked it. You were surrounded by sex. You needed this. You were looking forward to this all night. You moaned and keened the loudest out of the three of you, and the loudest you had all night.

Bucky smacked your ass hard and picked up the pace. You cried out, trying desperately to call out his name, but only Steve’s cock caught your muffled gag. He sped up too.

There was so much cum everywhere. While he kept jerking hips against your bottom, Bucky had no problem swiping some up around his metal fingers again. He used his index finger to toy with your exposed entrance between your butt cheeks. You twitched at the sudden sensation, understanding what was about to happen. You lowered your front half and raised your ass higher, presenting yourself to Bucky’s whims in the back. Bucky fingered the ring of muscles before padding at the opening, and then gently pushing his finger in. He looked at Steve on the other side and watched his partner’s hazy eyes look down your body to what he was up to. Steve got the hint, too. He looked up at Bucky and winked. A sultry smile spread across Steve’s face. Bucky matched Steve’s smile with his own.

Soon, Bucky was able to fit his whole index finger in your asshole, followed by another finger, and another. It didn’t take so long considering everything the three of you have been up to all night. You were about to lose it. All three of your holes were stuffed and stimulated in the right spots. You could feel your release coming closer. You tried to warn your boys, but it was difficult to speak when your mouth was stuffed with cock (like you wanted it to be). Steve and Bucky could feel something happen though, and probably traded nonverbal cues, because they both slowed down and eventually pulled out before you could drown in your orgasm.

You were trembling violently. You needed that release, but you were also grateful for the short reprieve. You knew what was coming. Everything between your legs clenched hard in anticipation. You could feel Bucky rub his cock up and down between your butt cheeks. He then touched the tip of his cock to your prepped entrance and pushed in slowly, more slowly than he had with his fingers before.

You swore loudly. It was intense, almost painful, and you could feel every bit of Bucky’s cock shifting into you inch by inch. After several minutes of heavy panting and patient movements, Bucky was finally flush against your ass. He held you by your shoulders, pulled your back up to his chest, and guided you to lie back on his reclined body. Bucky spread his legs out to each side of you, opening up his pelvis and helping him slide up inside just a little more. Your knees were up, your feet were flat on the floor and your legs opened almost as wide as Bucky’s. You two sat like that for another minute so you could get used to his cock.

When you were ready, Bucky hooked his arms under your thighs to pull your legs back, your knees next to your head and your feet in the air, presenting your pussy to Steve. Steve crawled into the space between yours and Bucky’s legs and kissed you passionately on the lips. He pushed himself in carefully, slowly, and then he too was inside you to the hilt.

The three of you waited, this overloaded and powerful sensation alone threatening to make everyone cum. This wouldn’t last much longer, at least not for you, double stuffed and sandwiched in between Steve and Bucky like that—exactly the way you all loved it.

“Do it,” you panted out.

Bucky ground his pelvis against you in all the circular patterns he could think of, while Steve pulled his cock almost all the way out and slid all the way back into your pussy. It was slow and methodic and the two super soldiers were perfectly in sync with each other. You begged loudly to whoever could hear. Bucky and Steve were huffing and groaning around you. Each incidental graze between their cocks near your openings made them shudder. They could feel the ghost of their movements deep inside you too, the boundary between both of your centers being stretched thin.

Bucky whispered hotly against your ear. “You see what you do to us, Y/N? You see how badly we want to fuck you? We can’t even wait our turn, we have to go at it at the same time. Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at Steve fuck you. Look at his cock come in and out of that messy pussy of yours.” You did as Bucky said. Each time Steve drew back, you could see his large thick cock coated with all the slick inside you and all over you from tonight. You looked up at Steve through your hooded eyes and he leaned down to kiss you, deeply, moaning into it, encouraging you to keep enjoying the moment just a little longer.

Bucky kept grinding against you, his cock hot and pulsing deep inside your asshole. He could feel you tightening again. You were so close. “That’s it, Y/N, cum for us. One more time, doll. Let’s see your pretty face cum for us, one last time.”

Your last orgasm for the night quickly rushed in. You were shaking and clamping down on both Steve and Bucky now, and they each rode into you until they too had cum inside you. They pulled out slowly, and all three of you collapsed in a disheveled heap.

When you recovered moments later, you saw them together on the other side of the nest of blankets and pillows. Bucky was between Steve’s legs now, forcing his cock in and out Steve’s ass and clutching Steve’s member, stroking in time with his hips. Steve was keening and whining softly, while Bucky growled encouragement to help Steve and himself to their final release.

You studied them, feeling the arousal pool in your core and radiate out, but too exhausted to do anything about it. Bucky and Steve always described themselves as best friends, but the way they fucked clearly told a different story. The way the three of you messed around, repeatedly, exclusively, told a different story. But the meaning behind it all was a conversation for another time. You were content here in the moment.

When they finished resting, you saw Bucky and Steve get up and head towards the bathroom. Soon, Bucky was by your side with a warm, moistened washcloth. He cleaned up all the mess he and Steve made with you over your body and between your legs, all the while whispering sweet nothings. Steve kneeled over you with another damp washcloth to help clean you up, too. He leaned over to kiss you gently, sighing words only the three of you shared.

—End— My Masterlist My AO3

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #smut #reader fic #reader insert #you fic #fanfic #fanfiction #captain america #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #vindictivegracefanfic #once again i can't believe i wrote this #i'm going to hell #my bags are already packed

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traitoronlytohimself · 7 years

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Regrets, Confessions, Guilt and Secrets: Part 1

Regrets. I, like most, have many regrets. For others regrets are about things you wanted to do or the book you should have bought or the username you wished was different.

For me regrets are hard truths. I shouldn’t have done [blank] because of [blank]. I wish i hadn’t done the things that i did. I wish i could have done something else or said something else. Regrets haunt you and they certainly haunt me. Quite often regrets are towards people and most of mine are.

I regret not making this post sooner because it’s painful holding things inside, it’s hard not having a friend close enough to say this to. I had the idea to do this a couple of weeks ago but i think i procrastinated because i was scared of the idea of these things coming to light…so here it goes - my lifetime of regrets:

1. My grandma. My mum’s mum died i think in 2005 when i was either 3 or 4. I wish i had known her like my sister had known her, i wish i had done things differently because the only memory i have of her i was a dumb litte kid who obviously didn’t know anything. I didn’t know she was dying, i hardly knew she was my grandma because i couldn’t remember seeing her before (i think because she was in hospital for a long time). When we got to the hospital or care home or whatever it was i almost immediately went to the tv to find something to watch. I didn’t really talk to her and I was a little grumpy because i don’t think they had cbbc or cbeebies on the television, it was pretty much just bbc one.

I wish i saw her more, i wish i hadn’t been so young, i wish that when we see a robin and say it’s grandma Barbara that i could put a face to her name.

2. Luke Carl. Now and again i go to church and sometimes Luke does too. When we were kids and junior church was actually good we went a lot more often. When we were between the ages of 4 and 6, i think, we were both in beavers (like pre cubs which if you don’t know is pre scouts) and we did this walk down a canal. We were so close to where everyone had ended up that we really wanted to run over but it was on the other side of the canal. I say i couldn’t see th bridge but i can’t remember if i couldn’t. I know what the bridge looks like now I’m older and i remember seeing it after being told off. We had been told that we shouldn’t cross over the locks or whatever they’re called because we could fall in but i couldn’t remember seeing the bridge so when i asked if we could cross i meant the lock not the bridge. I knew it was dangerous and i think i asked multiple times because i couldn’t remember or doubted that i heard correctly but the person looking after us said yes and we crossed. I’m pretty sure it was my idea or luke tried to tell me there was a bridge but nonetheless we both got seriously told off because if we had fallen in we could have died. Now when i see him i often remember and feel guilty.

I regret crossing the canal when i knew it was dangerous. I regret being so impatient that i couldn’t wait for the old guy leading us to reach the bridge. I regret getting Luke in trouble.

3. Matthew Riley. There’s not really much to this one and it’s pretty dumb but basically i said to his mum he was hyperactive because we went on a camp as a part of cubs and he kept us up for ages when we were trying to sleep. I had to apologise and i did but for some reason i still feel kinda bad about it. We weren’t really friends to begin with and he was younger than me. We only saw each other now and again because our mums were friends and my sister babysat him and his little brother from time to time.

4. Ben. Another weird little one. Basically before he moved to another part of Hemel and had to change schools we were friends. We were only in year 2 and i think he was one of my first few friends. I kinda feel like i peer pressured him into getting pokemon diamond/pearl because i had recently discovered it. He liked it but I’m pretty sure he moved on from it pretty quick. It’s silly but i feel guilty because i shouldn’t have done that. Sure i was like 6 or 7 but some blame has to be put on me even if it hasn’t affected his life at all.

5. James Batchelor. Towards my last year of primary school i started to become closer friends with a couple of people. James was one. We talked about moshi monsters (yeah i know, what a loser) and also our hate for a couple of people in our year. We both didn’t like popular people because they were usually annoying and we just weren’t like them. There were a few nice popular people but there were about two nasty ones in his class. Anyway, he came over to my house once and i can’t remember what happened but i think he was kinda rude, i kinda remember him saying “oh, i saw your password” and saying he could go on my account and stuff. It’s a bit hazier than the others but the gist of it was we fell out and i said some mean stuff about him. I regret whatever it was between us especially since I’ve seen him a couple of times in game in the last few years and we never said hello once or waved in acknowledgement.

6. Scout Summer Camp. I was sorta bullied in year 7 because i had a really high pitched voice, I’m fairly camp and I only really had 1 friend from primary school in secondary school. I was asked by these two assholes whether i was gay about a thousand times a day even when i said no. Today I’d have to say it’s complicated but back then i was 11 and was as sexually attracted to other people as a doorknob is so of course i said no because the way they asked all the time was in a way that suggested it was a bad thing.

When i went to summer camp maybe a year later i got into a bit of a fight. The day before this kid was annoying me and being a bit of an ass. He spoiled something in the movie that we watched although it wasn’t really a spoiler because it had nothing to do with the plot or ending and he kept saying stuff and being annoying all through it. The next day or whenever it was we were in the the foresty bit near our tents and he was being annoying. I’m sure i said some mean things too though. He had a bit of this thin blue rope thing he was messing about with and i stepped on it. I wouldn’t let go so he threw a tennis ball. I think i told him to try again or something and he did. I hit him with the rope and he still has a scar i think. I chased him and tried to apologise or something but he kicked and punched me away. I was told off and when spoken to one to one about it something came up about that i had been under some stress or was having a rough time because of what happened in year 7 so i kinda blamed it on that. I wasn’t really punished at all but i should have been.

I regret that i didn’t take the responsibility properly and that i didn’t get punished properly. I felt so guilty and everybody else made me feel so bad. I hate what i did and regret even going to scouts. I didn’t like it that much, people were mean to me and I was mean to them.

7. Carl Allen. This is one i really regret. I was volunteering for our scout summer go karting thingy and i was doing the lap signs with Carl in the middle of the field. He was nice and funny but he was popular so at times it felt like he thought he was better than me because he knew more stuff and was into cool things and was far more social than me. He was a bit of a joker and i was used to people lying to me just to see my reaction because “it’s funny” and to see if “I’m gullible”.

I said something about mums like why don’t you ask your mum or something and he told me his mum had died a few months or a year ago from cancer. Being the shitbag that is me i either thought or told him that i wasn’t sure whether to believe him. I knew it was horrible to think he would lie about something like that but i did. He doesn’t go to my school, we’ve never been friends, we’ve never really talked or seen each other but i still feel guilty. I’m sure he probably doesn’t remember me but i feel guilty because what if he hates me and he remembers it and if i ever meet him again. Plus atm I’m kinda questioning and on his Facebook status it says complicated and recently or a while ago he changed his profile picture to one with him and this guy and also he posted a pick showing he got his ears pierced which i view as something kinda gay mostly because it is usually only gay giys can pull off. I feel really bad and guilty about what i did and all i can think is what of i were friends with him. Maybe I’d know if he was gay and maybe I’d know if i was gay.

There’s so much i regret about this and there’s so many emotions but i can’t really put them all into words.

And that’s all that i can think of for now but I’m happy that I’m doing this because whenever you regret something your mind keeps making stuff up to make you feel less bad like “I’m sure i didn’t do that” or “i can’t be blamed - i was only a kid” and every time that happens i feel guiltier and doubt the lies we tell ourselves.

I made this mostly because I would like to apologise to all these people but i can’t, at least not in person or through social media because i don’t know what to say and i don’t want to feel bad or guilty anymore. I don’t want to think about them but i feel that i should for the things I’ve done.

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