#but we weren't even sharing a bus stop or going in the same direction

[esper-aroon]

i see pictures of big cities abroad sometimes and feel almost anxious seeing the streets packed full of people in every direction. i do not want to go there.

This may be an urban legend and I will preface this by saying that I don't even remember where I heard it, but going to bigger cities in Finland always reminds me of it nonetheless, so I'm telling you now.

There was a student group from either China or Korea - I can't recall which one, but Asian nonetheless - who were in student exchange to Finland, in Helsinki. The finnish hosts did their best to make them feel welcome, touring them around the city on the first day out and about, but they noticed the asian students seeming uneased by something. Not in a way of just being timid about being in a foreign country, but glancing at each other like something was off, and looking at each other with this air of "you're seeing it too, right?" but none of them wanted to be the first to bring it up to their finnish hosts. Both cultures are the high-context type, so they had clearly concluded that since the finns didn't point out the obvious unpromptedly, the subject might be too sensitive to talk about.

Eventually one of the exchange students decided to brave against this potential taboo, and delicately asked: "has something... Happened here?" And there was mutual surprise when the finns had no clue what they were talking about. This was pre-covid, nothing bad had happened there. And one of the exchange students - who still weren't sure whether they're breaching a taboo of something One Does Not Talk About - bravely elaborated. The streets are empty. It's eerie. They're in the central of the capital city and the streets are almost deserted. Has there been some calamity? A plague, an earthquake, have the people fled or been evacuated somewhere? Is it safe to even be here?

And they were just as baffled when the finnish hosts confirmed that no, this is a normal amount of people to see on the street on a normal day. Finland just looks like this. And for the sake of clarity, this is what Helsinki city centre looks like on a normal saturday morning at 10 am:

Both pictures taken by me, this morning.

[daisyblog]

Cherry

Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Cherry was made.

Harry knew he had to get back to some sort of normality. He'd spent the last few months on tour, trying to work on his emotions and still trying to put a good show for his fans. It was hard.

It was hard for him without YN by his side. It was hard for him when they weren't talking right now. They hadn't spoken for a few weeks now, their last conversation was strained and it seemed that they silently agreed that maybe they needed to stop texting right now.

From the One Direction days, right up until his first solo album, Harry always felt inspired to write. It was his passion, the way he enjoyed expressing himself and music was his thing. But since their break up, Harry felt a lot, but trying to put into words was just something that he couldn't do right now.

He had a studio session with his team, he thought it was a waste of time because he had already explained to his manager, Jeff, that he wasn't in the right frame of mind to write, but Jeff and the team persuaded to join them, even if it was just to mess around with some of the instruments and sound board to see what they could do.

Harry sensed a tense and awkward atmosphere as he walked through the studio door, where everyone else had arrived before him. He noticed the look Mitch and Jeff gave each other and how Sammy and Tyler focused their eyes on the recording deck in front of them.

"What?" Harry continued to eye each of them, waiting to hear why they were all acting guilty, almost like they knew something he didn't.

Jeff broke the silence of the room. "Have you been online today?".

Harry shook his head no, confusion still evident on his face. "No..why?".

Jeff eyed Mitch quickly before he broke the news to his friend. "There's a photo of YN...and a man in a gallery in Paris".

Harry's heart felt like it was going to escape his body. It was thumping hard against his chest. He'd always been the jealous type, he'd get annoyed if another man checked YN out in front of him or attempted to chat her up, but this wasn't just jealousy, this was like he'd been hit by a bus. Was she really moving on?

Swallowing his emotions, Harry broke the tense silence. "Um..do we know who he is?". He asked his manager, knowing he would have made a few phone calls this morning.

"His name is Jack..his parents own the gallery they were at..it was their opening night". Harry felt his stomach twist again, all he could think about was YN and Jack and the fact that she had already met his parents.

Harry nodded his head in response, not quite knowing what to say. He just wanted to know, how they met, where they met, did she love him, did they have the same conversations they used to have, did she laugh at his jokes?

"Do you think he may just be a friend or something?" Mitch, who didn't get too involved in anything that wasn't his business, questioned Harry. He had known YN for a few years, and to him he just thought this was out of character for her. He witnessed how in love the couple are, the way YN would look at him with heart in eyes, the way they would say 'I love you' whenever they were leaving the room or how supportive YN had been when the guitarist first met them.

Harry let out a sarcastic chuckle. "I've met all her friends...and I've never heard of him". It was true, Harry had met YN's small group of friends. YN always said how small her circle was because she only trusted a small amount of people. "I'm gonna go and get a coffee, I'll be back in a bit".

Harry took a small walk around the area, needing to get some air. He felt like so many things were going through his mind. He didn't want YN to be with anyone else, he wanted to be the one to hold her hand, tell her how beautiful she is, tell her that he loves her.

Once Harry had arrived back at the studio, the four men was surprised to see that he had actually come back after the news they had shared this morning. They were even more surprised when Harry instructed Mitch to play a slow melody on the guitar. But they all did what Harry asked and once Harry began to sing some lyrics, they had realised that Harry was expressing his feelings and emotions through song.

Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't you call him what you used to call me

Harry thought about how he and YN had always had little pet names for each other, mostly being 'baby' or 'bubs". He couldn't help but think about YN calling Jack these names. He was also aware that they weren't talking right now so it made things feel even more intense for him.

I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best I'm selfish so I'm hating it I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress Take it as a compliment

YN was smiling wildly in the photo at the gallery, Harry could tell it was her real smile and one that he had been lucky to see many time over the years. Of course he wanted to see her happy, but not without him and with another man. As he was getting ready this morning, he couldn't help but reach for the pink beanie that sat in the drawer, one that YN had left behind and the one that was currently hiding his curls.

Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't you call him what you used to call me

Harry re-sung the first verse, wanting to repeat the message loud and clear.

I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends Did you know I still talk to them? Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?

He missed her loudness, he missed her laugh, he missed everything about her, even her thick accent. But the more he thought about YN, the more he visualised the photo of her and Jack so the last line came out without thought as he sung.

---

It was later that evening that Harry was back home by himself. He'd thought about his day and how everything changed so quickly for him.

He knew he was being cruel to himself, sat staring at the photo of YN at the gallery. He couldn’t help but notice how her eyes crinkled as she was mid laugh or how she was wearing her favourite black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. 

To distract himself he decided to go for a night time run, something he used to do when he couldn’t sleep or had something on his mind. As he run around the area near his home in LA, knowing the time difference between LA and England he wondered if YN was awake not able to sleep or if she had started her day early. 

Arriving back at his house, Harry showered and changed into some comfy clothes, he got into bed and out of habit glanced at the space next to him. An empty space where YN and Teddy were usually cuddled up. 

What surprised him was the sound of his pinging on the bedside table. He reached over and seeing the name across the screen made his heartbeat faster.

YN: Hey! Can we talk? x

Harry wasn’t sure if he was happy, relived or scared. Of course he wanted to talk to her, he’d do anything to have her back in his arms. But was this the talk where she told him it was officially over between them both.

Not wasting another moment, he pressed the phone button next to YN’s name and waited to hear her voice. 

“Hello”. YN’s voice was quiet, almost like she was trying to not to wake anyone. 

“Uh hey”. Harry was nervous. He didn’t know what to expect. 

“Sorry…I hope I didn’t wake you”. YN apologised.

Harry’s fingers began to play with the loose cotton on the duvet as he spoke. “N-no…of course not”.

There was a slight pause in conversation, almost like they weren’t quite sure what to say. 

“I…I wanted to explain the photo you may have seen-“. Harry recognised the nerves in YN’s voice. 

Harry interrupted. “YN…it’s okay..you don’t need to explain yourself to-“.

“Harry-“.

“-me…you can date whoever you want to date”. Harry continued to ramble, almost trying to sound unbothered about the whole thing.

“Harry…it’s not what it looks like-“.

Once again Harry didn’t let YN finished explaining. “You don’t need to tell me”.

“Harry…for fook sake let me finish”. Harry remained silent. “I’m trying to explain that Jack, who’s in the photo is Mia’s boyfriend…Mia invited me along because she was nervous and the media have twisted it”.

Harry has never felt relief like it. He wanted to jump up and down in excitement, but instead the smile was back on his face. 

When Harry didn’t respond, too happy about the news YN just shared, YN grew nervous. “Harry?”.

“Oh..oh sorry…I-I…I’m not going to lie…I’m so fucking happy to hear that”. Harry left put a chuckle, YN giggled on the other end of the phone at his honestly.

“So you really thought I would be dating someone”. YN decided this was the time to question Harry.

“Uh…uh…No…well maybe”.

“Harry….you know I still care about you…I was actually going to ask if you wanted to maybe go for a coffee or something next week…I’m flying out to LA to stay with Louis for a bit”.

Harry’s excitement started to grow. YN wanted to see him, she was flying out to LA next week, she made the first step. He couldn’t help but get hopeful that this was his chance to win her back.

“Yeah..yeah…I’d really love that”. Harry tried to stay calm and not give too much away.

“Cool…I’ll leave you to get some sleep ‘cause I know it’s late there…I’ll send you some details once I arrive”.

“That’ll be good…have a safe flight”.

“Goodnight bu-“. YN almost let out the little pet name she was used to saying. “Harry”.

As they both hung up, Harry whispered “Goodnight baby”.

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @indierockgirrl @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @jerseygirlinca @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @buckybarnessimpp

[vtori73]

Having friends seems overrated or at least that's what I've learned it seems like nowadays. Before when I had friends I was basically the cheerleader/mom sort of one, I supported them, I shared their work and if they were a part of in person events I would try to go but if not I tried to share words of support and even give them direct compensation as an apology/act of support (I once sent the ticket amount to a friend because I felt bad I couldn't go to an event they were apart of) but... I never really got that kind of support from them in return. Some might say at least they weren't discouraging but I mean... their "neutrality" wasn't all that great either.

I just felt like they left me behind, they could care less about me and no one can tell me I'm wrong for saying so because it's the truth, only 1 of them speaks to me anymore. I can't say I was always the cheerleader though and it might be why they stopped contacting me but I'll never know because they never said anything. I just assume though now going off of a change that happened to me one day when I noticed back when I was in college with a part time job, I noticed that I was the main/sole one who would initiate contact first and... It bothered me. Friends/friendship takes work so why was I the one putting in most of the effort? Why was I the one checking in on them most of the time without them really ever doing the same even though I was the one open about having depression at times (this might actually be the main answer to my question tbh, being disabled, which includes mental health btw tends to get you ostracized from others who arent/don't see themselves as disabled/are ableist because they don't want to put in extra effort for those who require it they only want people who require the same amount of work which always means able bodied people or people who don't require much OR who don't ask for much). Why was I the only one hyping up/sharing their work across platforms (sure it was useless since nobody followed me but I tried, I still tried) and yet they hardly ever and even probably never did the same for me? I just...

I use to think it was mean of me to feel this way, that maybe I was just being too dramatic and taking things personally and maybe I'm forgetting things nowadays but my opinion was this back then and hasn't changed maybe soften at time becomes my memory grows weaker of those time but if the me who was there at the time felt that way I had a valid reason to and I'm not going to try and tell myself I didn't just because I can no longer remember and want to hold consideration for people who aren't even around to care if I did anymore.

But I've learned from social media that seems to be what you should expect from friendships, seeing all these "you don't owe anyone anything" mentality and people who feel like doing anything more than casual conversation and outgoings is "too much effort" or "tmi" and that friendships are more casual then I was led to believe growing up. I think our media has romanticized friends/friendships and due to that had higher expectations then I should have which has led to nothing but disappointment and loneliness so I guess have no one to blame but myself.

I now do think they weren't that great of friends to begin with if they only cared when things were easy/casual. I don't think they are bad people, but good friends? No, I don't think so and refuse to let myself feel bad for thinking and now believing this.

And even though I think our media has romanticized friendships I am probably going to still do it within my work because I want my work to be escapist but with meaning. People always want to throw the people who try to escape reality under the bus but don't realize MANY people have legit reasons to be cause their reality is awful and they don't have anything else so escapist media is there to bring some much needed positivity and enjoyment to their lives. It's interesting when we see these stories, these cautionary tales of not being like these people because trying to escape reality is BAD and usually these people are pretty privileged in some way or another and are able to make a change or something for many they can't so is it wrong of them to escape in the media they consume? Is it? Because I honestly don't think so but so many people would be quick to judge them even though they don't know what it's like to live their life.

I can't say I am exactly that person though, I do have many privileges I just... things are hard when you're lonely and feel like you don't really have any real support.

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

[avungerthatgotaway]

The Soldier of the Night

heyyyy guys!! this is my first ever request fic and im so excited to do iiiit. please tell me what you think of it in the comments🥰

it's made for this request

summary: y/n finally takes matters into her own hands and escapes hydra. but it won't be as easy as she tought...

warnings: mentions of blood and child neglect

pairings: avengers x teen!reader (platonic)

genre: angst-ish, fluff at the end

Sorry for grammar mistakes.

If you have request feel free to ask🥰

----------------------------

Y/N Y/LN, but no one calls you by that name. To the world you are known as The Soldier of the Night, the merciless murderer. Mothers all over the world use you to teach their kids about most dreadful dangers. People gather around campfire in woods and share scary stories of your cold heart and homicides you don't feel guilty about. You are the biggest fear of each and every government there is in world.

And you always wonder what all those people would say if they knew how old you were. Or that you never kill willingly. Or that you silently pray every night for the victims you harmed or killed in your brainwashed state.

Or that hydra has no control over you anymore. You are currently running, without exact destination, just to get as far from hydra as you can. They are probably alerted of your absence by this point, but you are already in New York, so you can maybe find a hiding spot before they find you.

-

-Avengers pov

-

Nick Fury hurried to the avengers tower, where he called a sudden meeting this morning.

When he came in Steve and Sam were sweaty, probably just came from their morning jog. Bucky was still fighting sleep in his pyjamas, hair sticking out in different directions. Wanda was starring daggers at him for waking her up so early. Tony and Bruce were in lab coats, probably didn't sleep at all. All other avengers were at their respective missions.

"I called this meeting because my resources told me infamous Soldier of the Night is out of hydra HQ. We don't know why, but it's probably another killing mission for hydra. He is currently laying low, somewhere around south entrance to the city. Your mission is to stop him from harming anyone and bring him here. Alive if possible, it would benefit us to know what are hydra's plans at the moment." he finished.

"Alright." said Steve dutifully. "Any information we can get on him before we go?"

"Not much. Only that he is dangerous, and doesn't spare anyone. He is a ghost story. We don't even know if it's a he, that's just a guess."

"Very well. Everyone suit up, I expect you in front of tower in 10." Steve said and left, other avengers following behind.

-

They came back that evening, exhausted of their unsuccessful search. There was no trace of the soldier. But they had to keep looking as long as there's hope to get rid of the monster.

-

-2nd person pov

-

Your heart was racing a hundred miles. You were well aware of the possibility of hydra finding you. But you didn't expect it to be this soon. You were in hiding for only 2 months and they already tracked you down.

Windows broke on your left side and hydra agents started piling in. At the same time on your right side the door broke down revealing whole avengers team, with few additions. You faintly remember one of them as The Winter Soldier, but what was he doing with avengers? Your toughts were cut short by a punch in your face delivered by one of hydra agents.

That's when it snapped: you had to fight for your life. And you probably had to fight both sides.

You started fighting hydra agents, harming them as much as you can without killing.

The avengers stand at the doorstep, and you faintly hear one of them saying "What the actual fuck?". They seemed belivered.

But they soon join the fight knocking out hydra agents. A fist connected with the back of your head, knocking you out into pool of darkness.

-

Light clacking of bottles was the first thing you hear when you wake up. You squint your eyes open, panic finnaly kicking in to where you are. Your first tought was that you were back in hydra HQ, but the room was way too light for that, and hydra wanted you dead.

You started panicking and franatically got out of the bed, trying to escape. Whoever this is, they nean no good. Even avengers want to kill you. But as soon as you got up, black dots invaded your vision, causing you to fall. But before you hit the groung a pair of arms caught you, leading you to sit back in bed.

"Hey, hey sweetie calm down. No one will harm you here. Don't make any sudden movements, your head is still not completely healed." a man told you.

You just layed back and watched him bandage your wrist.

"I am Bruce Banner, by the way. What is your name?" he asked kindly.

"Y/N Y/LN" you whispered, almost inaudibly but he heard it.

"Alright, Y/N. I think I bandaged all your bruises. Rest of the team is waiting out, do you maybe want to meet them?"

By 'team' he probably meant rest of the avengers. You saw a big 'A' painted on the wasll, so that had to be it, right? You immediately shook your head no, eyes widening in fear. You still weren't sure they won't harm you, and meeting them seemed overwhelming in your current state.

"It's okay, calm down. You can meet them later. I will stay with you a little. We could talk if you want?"

You just shrugged your shoulders, not particularly fond of talking with anyone, but not wanting to seem rude because he did help you.

"Okay. How old are you Y/N?" he asked slowly.

"(your age)" you quietly said.

"Dear lord, you really are just a kid. I'm so sorry for everything you've gone through."

You just zoned out, thinking about everything that happened, when something poped up in your mind.

"Mr. Banner?" you asked shyly.

"Call me Bruce kiddo. What is it?"

"I tought I saw The Winter Soldier at the door when you guys came to get me?"

"Oh yes. Bucky. He was also in hydra, as you probably know. He was brainwashed. I suppose you were too?"

"I was, every time I killed somebody. Sometimes I went to missions with other agents and they didn't brainwash me, but I never killed anyone when I was in my senses." You started thinking about your victims as teers pooled in your eyes.

"We supposed so. Do you want me to bring Bucky in a little? Maybe he can help you feel better, because he knows what you're going through."

You slowly nodded, not wanting to reject meeting avengers the second time.

"Alright, he'll be here in a minute." Bruce gave you a gentle smile and patted your shoulder.

A minute after he exited, in came Bucky. He looked better than when you saw him last, but you doubted he's seen you. You were sneaking out, tryna find some food, when you heard and saw agents torturing him. That's about only memory you have of him, along with stories you've heard from other people.

"Hello there doll. How are you? Bruce told me you remember me." he said gently, sitting at the edge of your bed.

"I-I am alright, i guess. Th-thanks. And yes, I do. A little. I was passing by door, when I saw them torturing y-yo-you." you started sobbing a little, the memory bringing back others. Memories of them torturing you. And you torturing other people in your brainwashed state.

"Hey don't cry. It's okay, shhh. Come here." he opened his arms, and you hesitantly scooted closer, not exactly sure what he wanted. He circled his arms around you, and you flinched, thinking he's gonna attack you. But he just gently kept his arms wrapped around you, soothingly rubbing you back. after some time you wraoed your arms around his middle, still not sure what's going on.

But it was a nice feeling. You never felt something like it before. You felt so safe, like nothing could harm you as long as you two stay like that. You wanted to know what was all this about.

"Wha-at are you do-oing?" you asked after you stopped sobbing, but still hiccuping a little.

"Oh, I'm hugging you. Are you uncomfortable? I will stop if you are. Sorry." he said starting to draw back.

"No!" you quickly said, clutching onto him like koala. You were afraid the sense of comfort will leave you as soon as he withdraws from you.

"Shhh, doll. I won't let go. Never. Nothing will ever harm you here kiddo. We will take care of you. You can live normal life, like all other kids. Maybe go to school after you adapt to your surroundings. Here is a kid Peter he is about your age. You can make friends your age. And of course we will be your friends. For as long as you want it."

"Wait, I can live here? I'm not a burden?"

"No, of course not. Don't ever think that, please."

"B-Bu-Bru" you struggled to remember what Bruce told you his name was.

"Bucky. Or James, whichever you prefer kid."

"Oh okay. What are hugs Bucky?"

"Well I'm hugging you right now. You hug people ti show your emotions. Like comfort, thankfulness, happiness, love. It's what friends do."

"Wait wait wait. You never had a hug before?? Like ever????" a new voice boomed. It sounded genuine but way too loud. You flinched instinctively and hid your face in Bucky's shoulder. He tightened his hold on you for comfort.

"Can you be any louder Thor? And no she was practically raised in hydra, they don't exactly hug around." Bucky said.

"I am sorry, lady Y/N. For frightening you, and for my inappropriate question. I am Thor Odinson." he said coming closer to you.

"It's okay Mr. Thor. I'm Y/N Y/LN, nice to meet you." you said shyly.

"Oh it's lovely meeting you too. I came here because brother Stark asked me to ask you if our presence is wished upon now."

"Huh, what do you think, doll? Ready to meet 'em now? No pressure." Bucky quietly asked, only for you to hear.

You tought about it for a second, but if everyone is nice as three you already met, you'd like to meet them all. And with quiet "okay", Bucky nodded to Thor and he left to call the others in.

-

That night you layed in your bed, thinking of that day's events. You met everyone, since no one had missions assigned. They were all really nice to you. Even Loki, which surprised every avenger. You were not sure why tho, Loki was nice, and his voice was comforting. The Maximoff twins were really funny, and Tony already started making you your own room! Everyone else you've met was aweosme: Natasha, Clint, Steve, Sam and Rhodey. Peter was shy but nice, he promised to show you some good movies and he was belivered when you said you don't know what those are.

Bucky was still you favorite. He stayed the longest, promising to come and visit you first thing in the morning. You hoped he'll hug you again, you were quite fond of hugs now.

-

Few months passed since avengers saved you. Life couldn't be better at this point. You were home schooling, or rather preparing to go to real school next year. Peter already introduced you to his friends from school you are going to attend. You were training to become an avenger, and it was so exciting.

You were currently having breakfast tho, sitting in between Sam and Bucky who were bickering about one thing or other. Tony was dancing funnily while making pancakes, while Nat was trying to throw as many blueberries as possible at him. You heard Clint somewhere in wents above you, probably setting up a prank. You smiled to yourself. Even though you never knew love, or had a family until two months prior, avengers accepted you. They were slowly becoming your family, and you couldn't imagine your life without them. ;)

[mywonuderful]

Sweet n' Sour Chicken

anon request: hi, can I request a fluffy college au with Jacob from the boyz? 🥺

pairing: college!jacob x college!reader

genre: college au, fluff

warning: cursing and some anatomy terms for those KINE students out there 

a/n: thanks for the request anon! I had lots of fun writing this so I hope you like it :)

main masterlist

You knew you fucked up.

2 minutes

You sprinted, your bag swinging in all directions as you opened the doors of the building, jumped ran down the stairs and finally reached the doors of your practicum.

‘it literally take 10 minutes for me to travel from one building to another. why does my practicums have to be on opposite side of the campus?’ You caught your breath, wiping the sweat that was falling from the side of your face. You peaked through the half opened door, hearing the instructor explain the lab as you scanned the room for any empty seats.

'Second last row, beside the guy in a demin jacket' You took note as you quietly opened the door, hoping the instructor doesn't noticed as you tippy toed your way to the empty seat.

"Excuse me." You pointed at the empty seat beside him. He mouthed a 'sorry' before he moved his guitar bag and stood up for you to pass through. You eyes lingered at the guitar for a moment before you threw your bag on the table, chugging your water.

'A musical major taking an anatomy course? What is he thinking?' You resting your head on your hand, glancing over at him, observing his appearance. His hair was dyed to a honey brown color, looking soft as a pillow. He was wearing a demin jacket with a plaid and t-shirt underneath and you could hear his metal accessories clink every so often when he moved.

“Miss ‘late for the nth time’"You heard your instructor yell as you snapped to reality.

“Yes!” You answered, immediately feeling embarrassed as you knew he was calling for you.”

“You’ll be pairing up with Jacob, the guy you’ve been staring at for the past 5 minutes.” The guy so called named Jacob turned to look at you as you darted your head away, cheeks heating up as you heard a few people chuckle. The teacher went on explaining the purpose and procedure of the labs as you had your hand on your forehead, staring down at the sheet of paper as you mentally cursed at yourself for always being late and for checking out the man who turned out to be your lab partner. The room was filled with student’s voices overlapping each other as everyone got to work. You faced the wall, too ashamed to face your lab partner as you heard him clear his throat, trying to get your attention.

“Hey, so I’m Jac-”

“I am not interested in you.” You cut him off as his eyes widen from your statement. “I wasn’t checking you out.”

"Umm. Okay.” He slowly nodded, as you followed, whisper a ‘yeah, not interested’ to reassure yourself. 

“I didn’t ask.” Your eyes looked up to his as you both stared at each other before he broke into a smile. “Anyways, I’m Jacob.” He stuck out his hand, waiting for you to shake it.

“And I am sick and tired of labs.” You rolled your eyes. He still hand has hand extended, waiting for you to shake it as you narrowed your eyes at him, noting his unique behavior. “Y/N.” you shook his hand.

“Shall we get started on this practicum then?”

"Let me just say this first." He looked at you, waiting to continue as you lost your words for a second in his eyes. "We're going to get this over with, then part ways and never see each other again okay? I don't care what mark I get in this lab nor do I really care in general about labs." You looked at him, regretting the words that left your mouth.

"Cool. let's get started then?" Your heart stung from his response as you hesitantly nodded your head.

Unlike what you said, the both of you didn't part ways and never see each other again after that lab. Instead, you would purposely accidently meet him in lectures, other courses and around the campus where you found out that the two of you shared many common interests and that the both of you were in the same program. As those 'unexpected' encounters became more and more regular, your interest in him become more and more clear as his quiet, soft yet observed actions would always catch you off guard. But whenever that happens, you made sure to not like your feelings get in your way, as you know you aren't up for that kind of commitment.

-

"Where does the mandible articulate?"

"Uh... temporal bone?"

"Good. What joint does the mandible and temporal bone form?" You pressed your brows together, deep in thought. "We went through this 10 minutes ago."

"Cut me some slack, Jacob. I can only stuff so much information in this small brain." He smiled at your response. "Why do you always smile in the most unexpected moments? If you keep this up, I don't know what I'll end up doing." You mumbled to yourself as he waited for your answer

"That didn't sound like the rig-"

"I don't know! The temporalmandible joint or something?" You gave up as he slightly nodded. "Wait, did you hear what I said before that?" Panic started to form as you felt the cold sweat in your hands

"Close. Temporomandibular joint. And no, it just sounded longer than the actual answer." He corrected as you groaned, banging your forehead on the table as he slid his hand under so you won't end up bruising your forehead. "You're going to lose brain cells if you keep banging your head." You shot your head up, looking at him with a defeated face.

"But I'm already stupid!" You cried as he shook his head, patting your head.

"I'm joking. It takes more than just banging your head." You glared at him.

"Then why get me all worked up?"

"So you could stop ruining that beautiful forehead of yours?" I'm sorry but that sounds weird even as a complement You leaned back, taken by surprised before you snapped back to reality. "Look, there's a little trick on memorizing it. Just combine the two words together." He pointed at the pictures on the computer as you tried to focus. He would lean closer to you every so often as he pointed at the diagrams as your heart would race when he did.

"So the joint connecting the tibia and fibula would be the tibiofibular joint?" You asked as you pointed at the picture. He turned to look at you with wide eyes before he broke out into a chuckle.

"Correct!" The both of you laughed as the remaining of your study session went on.

-

By the time the two of you were finished with studying, it was already the late evening as one of the cafe employee came over to inform the customers that it was closing time. You glanced out the window, seeing rain drops slowly fall. Jacob was packing up beside you, as he followed your vision.

"The weather forecast did say it'll rain these couple of days." He mentioned as you stared out the evening sky, rain drops falling harder by the second.

"God, even mother nature hates me." You sighed as you packed your things, hearing a chuckle from him. "What? You find it amusing that the world is despises me?" He shook his head, waving his hand in denial.

"You're wrong. The whole world doesn't hate you."

"Then who doesn't?"

"There's me." You were zipping up your bag, stopping midway as you lifted your head to look up at him. He had a soft expression on his face, as your cheeks started to tint up.

"Geez, I thought I was weird but I'm starting to question who's the weird one here" You threw the bag over your shoulder as you opened the door, holding your textbooks over your head as you were about to ran to the nearest building when he suddenly grabbed your arm.

"I've got you covered." He opened his umbrella, lifting it over your head.

"Actually, the umbrella has us covered." You stated in a matter of fact tone as he laughed, lightly pulling your arm closer to him as the both of you started walking. He suggested that you stay over at his place for the time being knowing that you usually bus home. The two of you walked in silence as you took in the sound of the wind and raindrops hitting the tops of the umbrella, his grip still around your arm. He unlocked the door and turned on the lights, before gesturing you to enter first while he flicks off the remaining droplets. To your surprise, it was a little bigger than expected for a home for one person. You found yourself wandering around as he closed the door, taking off his shoes and jacket. You placed your bag down on the couch and sat down as you looked out the window, seeing the weather get more and more intense.

"Doesn't seem like the rain will calm down anytime soon." He spoke from the opened kitchen. You hummed in response, eyes found its way on a display of pictures of when he was younger with his family, brother and friends. You stood up, walking over to take a closer look as a smile appeared on your face.

"Ah, those were when I was in the volleyball and basketball team." He stated, offering you a cup of hot tea and you nodded, sitting back down as he took a seat next to you. You didn't know where to look as you stared out the window.

"Do you like the rain?" He asked to break the silence.

"No, I absolutely hate it." You turned to look at him. "I don't know where else to look." You admitted as he laughed.

"You sure are one bright person." You spoke, taking a sip. "Compared to someone like me."

"What do you mean? I find you bright as well." He snickered at his compliment.

"Not at all. I've already come into terms with my sour personality. It's just who I am. Someone who's better off alone and unbothered." He was deep in thought as you peeked over, trying to read him. "Why did you decide to be friends with me?"

"I didn't. It was you who asked for my number for the lab assignment." He pointed at you as you gasped, taken back.

"You're just trying to be funny now."

"Then tell me you didn't purposely go the opposite way so that you would 'bump' into me." You avoided his eyes, feeling ashamed that he taught on to your actions

"I can't confidently say that I didn't to it on purpose. But I swear, half- no not have, three forth of time it weren't on purpose!" You defended yourself before the two of you broke into laugher.

"How about we order some take-out? I don't think going out to grab food in the rain would be ideal with the weather being like this."

"I like your thinking. What should we order?"

An hour passed after you ordered as both of you would exchange short conversations here and there.

"You must be a pretty athletics person. Seeing how many awards you've won." His eyes were fixed on the trophies, a small smile upon his face.

"You could say so. How about you? Do you play any sports?"

"Nope. The most athletic thing I've done is run from practicums to practicums." You chuckled as he joined. The doorbell rang as you stood up to answer before he told you to sit down. He thank the delivery man and paid as he locked the door, placing the takeout on the coffee table.

He took out the takeout containers, opening them as your eyes landed on a particular dish.

"Sweet and sour chicken? I didn't remember us ordering that." He brought out some plates and took a seat beside you, knees brushing as he sat down.

"I added it last minute. Craved it, I guess." He replied as you nodded, not caring as the both of you started to eat.

"Say, I remember you carrying a guitar case the first time we met." You spoke as he looked up, trying to recall.

"Ah yeah, it was for a band I'm in." Your eyebrow rose, noting that he was an all rounder.

"Talk about being Mr. Perfect." You stuffed your face with rice.

"I still lack a lot." You choked on your rice as he immediately patted your back, opening a bottle water for you to drink.

"Lack *cough* my *cough* ass" you took a sip. "If you still 'lack a lot' then what does that make me? A complete failure?"

"What? No! Why do you talk so lowly of yourself?" His voice was serious. "You always compliment others but you can't seem to take a compliment on yourself."

"Wha- I have no idea what you're talking about." You put down your utensils.

"Are you finished with this? If you are then let's clean up." He started cleaning up the empty and dirty containers, you quietly following as you wondered why he suddenly jumped subjects. After cleaning up, you sat on the floor as he sat on the couch, the awkward silence was floating heavily around you.

"Hey Y/N." You looked up at him, the back on your head resting on the couch. "Can I tell you something? You have to hear me out though." You nodded, as he started playing with his fingers, trying to put together his words as you found his actions adorable, a giggle escape d your lips as you coughed to cover it up

"Stop thinking so small of yourself. You're not a failure nor does the world hate you. In fact, I find you very admirable in many ways." You shifted your body to face his. "Maybe if you see it in my eyes, you'll know just how amazing you are." You could see the blush across his cheeks, you bit your lip, feeling confused yet lighten from his words.

"Why?" He met yours eyes. "After seeing my personality, the way I act and talk. Why do you still hang out with me?" You answered.

"Do you want me to answer truthfully?" He stood up as you nodded, before he left to go into his room, coming back out with his guitar.

"I've been working on this song but the lyrics isn't ready but I have the instrumental down. Do you want to hear it?" You shrugged your shoulder, mumbling a 'why not,' feeling a little disappointed that he still didn't answer your question. He started strumming an upbeat yet sentimental tune. You found yourself swaying your head back and forth where when Jacob saw, he broke out into a smile as the both of you chuckled.

"Wow. You really are talented." You applauded as he shyly smiled

"There's a reasoning why I wrote this piece." He looked down at his guitar, stroking the strings lightly. "There someone who is so mentally strong no matter how hard the world is in her eyes. She carries herself well, not caring what others think or say about her. I find it admirable that she's so strong but then again, she doesn't realize it herself. I find myself attracted to her, even when she finds that her personality is sour, but I find it rather sweet." You stared right into his eyes as he would avoid them time to time. "And that's why this song is called sweet and sour."

"Like the sweet and sour chicken?" You tilted your head

"Yeah you could say that."

"So who's is she?" You leaned in, feeling a little upset that it wasn't you but nonetheless, anticipated. He placed his guitar to the side, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning in to you.

"If I told you, would you believe me?" He whispered. His eyes would glance down at your lips as your heart started to race.

"I mean, why wouldn't I?"

"It's you." Your eyes popped out, leaning back from surprised but Jacob held on to your shoulders. He slowly inches closer, your eyes shutting before you felt his lips on yours. You instantly smiled, you feeling his lips curving up as well. As you parted, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, both of you in a blushing mess.

"I guess you can say our relationship is like a sweet and sour chicken. Unique and irresistible." He smirked as you playfully punched his knee, exchanging flushed glances and laughter.

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The First Letter

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To: Choi Seungcheol

From: Y/N

Hi, Seungcheol.

I know that in your life, I've probably been a side character. A classmate in your autobiography or life movie. I don't expect to become anything more than that because now, I don't think I have a chance.

We've known each other since we were young. We've known each other for all of our life basically, right?

I can still remember what a cute kid you were back in kindergarten. You were such a nice little boy and whenever the other kids picked on me, you would stand up to them and say, “Hey! I'll tell the teacher and I'll also tell Y/N's parents about everything!”

I don't know if you remember that, but I do.

When we went to middle school, I think that's when I first began liking you. Even though we live just a block apart from each other, we didn't talk a lot outside of school. Since we were both classmates and knew each other's house location, it was a bit awkward for me, but thank you for talking to me when we waited for the bus at the bus stop together. Sometimes you would just briefly mention my hair or the small details like new shoes or socks.

Thinking about it still gives me hope that you like me.

Throughout middle school, you always fed me hope. Maybe because in general, you were just a charming, manly, attractive, and caring guy. Maybe I'm still misunderstanding too many of your actions.

I can remember so many times that my heart fluttered and my stomach filled with butterflies because of you, Seungcheol. Since this is a letter to you that I won't send, I guess I'll just write them all down here to keep as a memory, just in case I ever miss you or feel nostalgic. You're my first love, after all, Seungcheol.

There was this time when we were in 6th grade. In 6th grade, both of us didn't talk much, and surprisingly, we didn't get a lot of long-term projects together. I don't think we got any at all actually.

Anyway, it was the middle of spring and both of us were just hanging out with our group of friends. You were throwing around a paper ball, playing a game of catch with your friends during the break. I was just being the usual me, listening to my friends talk while drawing dancing cartoons in the empty spaces in my notebook. Sometimes I would glance up and catch a glimpse of you catching the ball.

Despite being in middle school, you had really large, muscular arms. I was watching you and your friend play catch for a bit. Your friend was right next to me, catching the ball, and you were on the opposite side. I turned back to my notebook then all of a sudden, the ball flew right in my face from your hands.

I let out a small “ouch” even though it didn't hurt. Your friend asked me if I was okay, to which I replied that I was fine. Just then, I don't know when you came, but you came in front of me and took my face in your hands. It only hit my forehead but you examined my cheeks, chin, nose, turning my face in all sorts of directions while asking “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” and saying “I'm so sorry” repeatedly. As I'm writing this, the lingering feeling of your warm palms holding my head and the side of my neck still makes my heart race. I didn't think my heart could beat so fast but it did. I think that's when I was sure I liked you more than a one-sided crush. It became a one-sided love for another two years.

There were way too many times my heart fluttered because of you but because this letter is already so long, I will only express my side of three of those times.

I hope this is an event that you remember. It was the day when you, me, and two other friends went to an amusement park. I think of this day as a double date. I can still remember my friend joking about how you and I looked so good together. I don't know if you noticed but I was so shy. She was also joking about how ‘this was a double date’ and because I was being paired up with you like that, I was just feeling over the moon. You didn't even say anything to deny it, you just laughed as I did.

I remember how your friend was convincing you to ride some rollercoasters but you were so afraid and whining. I remember just thinking you were so cute even though the memory is a bit blurry.

After that, because I wanted us to get closer, I said, “I'll ride it with you, it'll be okay.”

You were still skeptical but to me, it looked like you were giving in. I always wonder if it was because of me or if you were annoyed by your friend's continuous convincing. If it was because of me, then, I might regret not telling you my feelings.

Anyway, I rode the rollercoaster with you and I was, evidently, really scared. I was so scared to ride that thing that I was unintentionally screaming with you with my eyes shut. My hand was holding tightly onto the bar that secured us and I couldn't open my eyes at all. Just then, I felt your hand on mine and I could feel the courage to open my eyes. When I finally stopped yelling and opened my eyes, I saw that you still had your eyes squeezed, gripping my hand tightly.

You looked so cute, Seungcheol. If you opened your eyes, you would have seen how brightly I was smiling. Later that night, I remember, I rolled around in my bed and wiggled thinking back on it.

However, whenever I tried to get close with you, I always backed out because even though there are small moments like those I mentioned, there are more times where it seems like you don't like me the way that I like you. I don't know your heart and I know better than anyone that being friends with you would only make my love for you grow deeper.

It's the first time I'm feeling this way for anyone and I don't know what to do. I want to get closer and explicitly tell you that I like you and want you to date me, but at the same time, I don't know which decision is right. We're both still young is the only excuse I can think of, but still, I can't bring myself to tell you how I feel. All I know is that I might be in love with you and you make my heart race.

This is the last thing I'll share in this letter, even though you won't receive it. I just want to tell you my honest feelings that I can't tell you about physically. Yes, I'm being a coward and writing a letter like this.

You know, Seungcheol, you always had this strong aura to you. You can be so cute but you're so masculine too. I like how caring you are, always taking care of your classmates. I admire you for having such a great sense of responsibility. You always remind me when I'm on cleanup duty. Not to mention how charismatic you look when you rap alone at the bus stop. Your deep voice is beautiful when you sing too. I don't think you know how much I know about you. I don't want to seem creepy because these types of things are just things I can't help noticing. I don't even know why I'm writing this down, it just crossed my mind just now. I might as well pour out the rest of my heart to carve you out, right?

There was this one time last year, at the bus stop, when I arrived before you did. Usually, you always came to the bus stop first, and honestly, without you there made me feel uneasy. It made me realize a lot that your presence gave me feelings of reassurance and comfort. Without you there, I was so paranoid that I took out my headphones just in case my headphones would block out the sound of someone coming. I just remember feeling so scared, clenching my cold fists in my lap. The morning was gloomy and it was even raining.

I remember my mind racing, waiting for you to come. However, I was getting even more scared at the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to hear anything so I just wore my headphones again and listened to some music. I was looking down the sidewalk in the direction of my house, wondering if I should ask my father to drive me to school instead, when all of a sudden, you yanked out my headphones.

You were panting, covered in rain. I stood up because I was shocked and nearly wanted to hug you for coming but because we weren't close, I knew it'd be awkward if I thanked you or something. However, what you said to me, has always lingered in my head.

“Hey!” You shouted in a scolding tone, placing your hands on your hips. “What are you doing out here all alone? Why didn't you go back home and get an umbrella, it's raining so much! Plus, you could have waited until I came first until you decided to sit here alone with music blocking your ears! What are you, stupid!?”

At that time, I just stood, frozen. I was wondering why you didn't have an umbrella meanwhile my heart was fluttering. I was wondering why you were scolding me. Were you worried for me? Do you like me? Those questions still float around.

After scolding me, you sighed and apologized.

“No, it's okay,” I said quietly. I couldn't tell you that I was scared because I just didn't know how to say it without making it awkward. If I did say that I was scared since you weren't with me, would things change?

In the end, you were still soaking wet so you called your dad to get you an umbrella. Why was that? Why didn't you just come out with an umbrella?

I have so many questions about so many seemingly minor things you do to me. Are you worried just for me or are you worried for everyone, including all our classmates? Do you find me a source of comfort or were you just too scared to think on the rollercoaster?

Since the questions will never get answered like how this letter will never get mailed, I will conclude negatively, that you don't feel the same way. The main reason I'm writing this letter anyway is that I'm deciding to get over you. I know we're probably going to be stuck in the same high school but I'm going to stop loving you foolishly like this.

Thank you for being my first love. You being yourself made me feel so many different kinds of feelings, so many different emotions. I fell in love for the first time and I'm glad it was with someone like you, even if the ending is bittersweet. After summer break passes, I'll make sure to get over you.

I won't forget you though. I won't forget the way you cared for me. I won't forget the way you are.

You're an unforgettable first love, Seungcheol.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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© serenityseventeen

6/18/21 - 3:39 pm

a/n: I'm in love with the entire Your Choice album!!! Ready to Love is such a beautiful song, gosh, I'm in love with it!!! Seventeen always has superior B-Sides and ANYONE is my new bias wrecker + The members posted on Instagram today for the first time in forever (except for Seungkwan)!!!

[your-kpopmama]

Last Christmas

A/N: heyooooooooo so I haven’t written something in god knows how long but uh, here’s a fun story from the I Like You A Latte universe. It’s kind of alternate universe where Yoongi and Y/N never worked together and this is their little beginning story. So anyway, here is a Christmas gift from me to you..

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Word Count: 4,330 Genre: fluffy with smut. its like half smut. there wasn’t supposed to be any but it happened and I’m sorry. READ I LIKE YOU A LATTE HERE

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The atmosphere of the coffee shop was always welcoming and warm. You didn’t get to come out often and enjoy yourself, but when you did, this was your go to spot. God knows how long it’s been since you actually stopped in though. In lieu of coming here, you had taken to tar like coffee from gas stations on the way home or Jimin’s overly sweet coffee he made every morning. You missed this place. Something about the dim lighting and freshly baked goods always on display with the warm scent of coffee beans permeating the air, seemed to calm you down. Not to mention the staff had always been energetic and could put a smile on your face no matter what kind of sour mood you came in with.

Today was no exception, you had a large marketing meeting on the game you and Jungkook had developed over the last year and a half. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this project and you finally were ready to send your baby out into the world. It wouldn’t have been so nerve wracking if your last game hadn’t been a flop. Granted it was a gift for your team, and was never meant to be seen by other players, but Taehyung had insisted that it be put up as an indie title. It sunk nearly to the bottom of the ��free to play” due to it’s low scores, and it damaged your self esteem a bit. Looking back you can definitely see why it got the ratings it did, but your team loved it and that’s all that mattered to you.

Reaching down into your bag, you pulled out your laptop and turned it on. While you waited for it to load, you went back to the counter to order a latte. The overly friendly red head who worked there all but bounced to the counter to take your order.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” He asked, leaning slightly in to peer at your face.

“Uh, maybe?” You said cautiously.

A hand flew from nowhere and slapped the red head on the arm, “Hoseok, please do not lean over my perfectly clean counters. And refrain from getting into the young lady’s face.” a tall man with black shaggy hair poked his head around the dessert case. His large brown eyes were narrowed in Hoseok’s direction. It would have been intimidating, but the fact that he had flour plastered on his right cheek, took away the effect he was hoping to have.

“Sorry, Jin.” Hoseok said sheepishly.

“And you do know her.” Jin added before ducking back behind the desserts to arrange them more neatly.

“He does?”

“I do?”

You and Hoseok questioned at the same time, wearing the same confused faces. “Mm. She used to be a regular.” He said distractedly before smiling in triumph at his work. “It’s been what, a year since you’ve been in?” He asked with a polite smile.

You bit your bottom lip in thought, has it been that long since you’ve been here? You honestly couldn’t remember. How long have you holed yourself up in your shared apartment? Nodding slightly to confirm his question, you looked a bit embarrassed for not even remembering. “I’d have to agree. It has been a while since I’ve been here.”

“Glad to have a customer back, then. I hope it wasn’t our coffee or desserts that drove you away.” Jin beamed and leaned his elbow on top of the case full of sweets.

Your hand flew the back of your neck in embarrassment, “ah, not at all!” You spit out, “actually I just got really busy and didn’t have much time to enjoy myself.” You explained, wondering why you were even explaining.

“Mm, that’s right. I remember you used to come in here and study. Are you still in school?” Jin questioned further, your eyes catching Hoseok step away from the counter to busy himself with your order.

“No, I graduated a year ago. I’ve been working on a project for the company I work for,” you smiled in appreciation to Hoseok as he slid your drink across the counter, “I am a game developer.”

Jin’s eyebrows shot up and he had an impressed look on his face, “that’s pretty cool. Will it be anything big we may hear of?”

You blushed at the thought of one of your games actually making it big, “I don’t know yet. I have to pitch the game first before our developer decides what kind of marketing it will get.”

“Well, whenever your meeting is, I’ll be rooting for you!” Jin smiled so his eyes turned into little crescents and you felt a wave of warmth flush through you. Typically when you told people what you did, it usually ended up with them scoffing or laughing in your face. Hardly any support came from your family, and your housemates were the only ones who really had your back through it all. However, the kind words of an almost stranger, welled you with confidence you needed.

Picking up your mug, you uttered a quick thank you before Jin turned to leave. Before you could turn away though, a figure stepping out of the back caught your attention. Blonde hair that was pushed under a black cap, with a handsome but almost pretty face looked back at you. Long, thin fingers stopped in their quest to tie a black apron around a thin waist. You felt the smile drop from your face as images began to flash in your mind.

Hands on your abdomen, mapping out every curve and swell of your body. Lips, hungry for more as they devoured your own. Hot breath brushing across your breasts.

Snapping out of your daydream you quickly turned to escape, hoping to God, that wasn’t who you thought it was. Even after a year, you could still remember that face clearly. Those eyes that stared into your soul, but were kind and loving.

“Shit..” you muttered. You didn’t dare to glance back just to double check. Instead you made it your one and only goal to get back to your seat and get to work on fine tuning your presentation. After all, it was what you came here for. You needed the peace and quiet, and you’d be damned if you risked it.

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Saving your work, you breathed a sigh of relief as your arms stretched above your head, popping your stiff joints. It was finally done. Officially. Your project proposal was turned in and you fine tuned everything until nothing more could be done. You felt accomplished and proud.

Tapping quickly on your phone screen, you see three and a half hours had passed by. “Shit!” You exclaimed, quickly shutting your laptop down and stuffing everything into your bag. You pulled on your coat and slung your bag over your shoulder before picking up your empty mug and returning it to the counter.

“Oh, wait!” Someone exclaimed from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see the black haired man rushing towards you with a paper bag in his hand. “This is for you, dear.” He handed you the decorative bag with a smile.

“Thanks! How much do I owe?” You looked down and began rummaging in your bag for some cash.

“It’s on the house.” Jin replied with a sly smile.

“Oh..well thank you.” you returned his smile but an uneasy feeling sat in the put of your stomach.

“Don’t thank me,” he winked, “but you seem to be in a hurry so you best be on your way.” He shooed you with his hands as you suddenly remembered you did have somewhere to be an hour ago. You spun on your heel with a quick goodbye and headed out the glass doors into the cool night air.

After two bus transfers you were finally back at the apartment. Flipping the keypad open, you could already hear the angry yelling from inside and you braced yourself before pushing open the door.

"I'm home!" you shouted from the entry way, making a beeline straight for your room before your three roommates could stop what they were doing and make their way to you. You were almost safe until a foot in the doorway stopped you from closing the bedroom door all the way.

"A little late, huh, Y/N?" Taehyung's voice called sweetly from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed him to be standing there with a smirk plastered on his face as his arms crossed over his chest.

"A little." you said meekly.

"That's dinner on the house. We ordered a lot of food, so you can take care of the bill when it gets here." he said, still with the smirk ever present on his gorgeous face.

"Of course, of course. Can I close my door now? I want to get changed and logged in so we can raid." you tried to usher him from your doorway but he pushed himself inside.

"I wanted to stay though," he pouted while flopping across your messy bed.

You sighed and walked over to him and grabbed him by the wrist and pulled on him, gesturing for him to leave, "You know you can't. Get out."

"I'm gay, it's totally okay." he tried to reason.

"It's not though, get out." you tried to pull on him again but he was as stubborn as ever. "Hey," you had an idea, "I have a pastry in that bag over there and it's all yours if you get the hell out of my room."

That perked him right up, and in one swift motion he was off your bed and grabbing the bag and out of the door before you even had a chance to blink. Sighing with relief you locked your door and undressed quickly, changing into a pair of plain sweats and a hoodie.

Your chair creaked under your weight as you hurridly plopped in the seat to log in to the game so you could do some raids with the guild. MMORPG's weren't usually on your list of games to play, but Jimin played it once and got everyone to play with him and now you all were hopelessly hooked on them. It was a nice change of pace from the shoot and run games you usually played.

"NO FUCKING WAY!" you heard Taehyung screech from down the hall in his room, causing your to jump up from your chair and run towards your bedroom door. As you were pulling it open, Taehyung was pushing it in.

"No. Fucking. Way." he repeated, his eyes literally sparkling and a big lopsided grin on his face.

"What? What's wrong?" you asked, quickly looking him over to make sure he hadn't hit his head and completely lost his mind.

At that moment, Jimin and Jungkook showed up behind Taehyung, looking concerned for their tall friend who stood before you. Slowly, Taehyung began to raise his hand with a bright yellow post-it note in it. He held it in front of your face and it took you a solid three seconds to let your eye focus on the perfectly written words on the paper.

"Please call me, +82 32 0000 0000, Yoongi." you mumbled the words outloud.

Two gasps came from behind Taehyung and you suddenly realized what that note meant. "Where the hell did you get this?" you said ripping it from Taehyung's hands.

"In the pastry bag." Taehyung said as a matter of fact.

"Yoongi. THE YOONGI?!" Jimin screeched, slapping the ever living hell out of Jungkook's arm in excitement.

"Fuck, I seriously thought he didn't recognize me." you groaned and slapped yourself in the face to make sure this was real life, and unfortunately, it was.

Yoongi was to say the least, the best you ever had; the only you ever had. It happened during your last big game you had. You had won the tournament and had gotten a full exposé in a gaming magazine with the guys. You met Yoongi that whole week they were pulling you in for interviews.  He had been with the caterers and special made you coffee every morning complete with cute little drawings on bright yellow post-it notes.

After that week ended, you didn't see him for almost six whole months until you ran into him again on Christmas Eve. The two of you happened to be drinking your sorrows and stress away at a bar and ended up going home together after talking for a few hours.

Yoongi was the most gentle when it came to having sex. You had been nervous and fairly sober by time the act was actually happening, and in your awkward embarassment you had told him it was your first time and he made it as special as one could make it. It wasn't just the way that he made love, but the way he actually took his time and made sure you were comfortable the whole experience.

When the morning came, you had every intentions on staying for a while, but you had overheard him arguing with a woman at his front door and heard things you felt you shouldn't have heard - he had a girlfriend.

In your embarassment you gathered your clothes and slipped out through the patio and climbed over the small fence and did the walk of shame all the way to your apartment in the snow. When you had got home, Taehyung was coming in from his own night out and saw you and immediately went beserk when you told him what happened. It took a few hours to talk him down from going over there and beating Yoongi up for what happened. But even you didn't know the situation fully and didn't want to make accusations.

After that day you had become a recluse at home with your work and since Yoongi didn't have your contact information, neither one of you heard from each other again. Until today.

"Fuck, I can't believe he had the audacity to leave his number like that. Like you would even call him." Taehyung scoffed.

"I think she should call him." Jimin added from behind Taehyung.

"I agree." Jungkook said absently while he looked down at his phone.

You could almost hear the eye roll that Taehyung gave without even looking at him. Jimin and Jungkook weren't completely wrong though, you really should clear everthing up. You had really liked Yoongi and fantasized about him often, especially when you were feeling rather lonely.

Taehyung sighed and handed the post-it not over and left with a quick 'be careful' before he dragged the other two down the hallway with him. Closing your door, you walked over to your bed and sat at the foot of it, debating if you were really going to call him. Deciding to just do it, you dialed his number quickly and hit 'call' and held the phone nervously to your ear.

"Hello?" his lazy voice came through the phone.

"Yoongi? Hey, it's Y/N. I got your note."

A split second of silence was followed by what sounded like a relieved sigh, "Thank you for calling me. I know it's kind of sudden, but I get off work in about an hour, can you meet me?"

"Yeah, sure. Where?" your chest felt tight.

"My apartment. Do you remember where it is?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, awesome. I will see you soon." you could hear the smile in his voice.

You hung up quickly and dropped your phone in your lap and took a deep breath to settle your beating heart. It would take about 50 minutes to get to the other side of town at this time of day so you figured you had better get going.

Slipping on a pair of sneakers and grabbing your coat, you headed to the kitchen to let everyone know you were heading out.

"You're going dressed like that?" Jungkook scrutinized from his chair at the table.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" you shot back, looking down at your comfortable outfit.

"At least dress up for the dick you're about to get." he snorted.

Not willing to start that argument with him, you threw a banana from the counter at him and left in a huff, leaving behind three cackling men.

--------------------

You didn't have to wait long for Yoongi when you arrived at his apartment. By time he showed up his cheeks and nose were bright red from the cold. He had a small smile on his face when he walked over to you to let you into the apartment.

"Thanks for coming on short notice." he said. You watched him pull his warm layers off one by one until he was left in his work uniform.

"Mm." you were unsure of what to say as you stood awkwardly in his living room. He could sense your hesitation of the whole situatioon and took note of you looking around the room as if you were actually looking for something and not just avoiding eye contact.

"So, I wanted to talk about what happened." Wow. Straight to it. "I feel like I did something wrong last time, and it's been killing me because I am unsure of what it was. I thought we got along pretty nicely, but maybe I was wrong?"

"You had a girlfriend." you could be straightforward too.

"I- I'm sorry what?" he choked out.

Taking a deep breath to steel your feelings in case you were about to be let down, you recanted your story of the morning you snuck out of his apartment like some lame criminal. He watched you and listened intently trying to hide a smile, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Is something funny?" you huffed.

"No. I didn't have a girlfriend. Well, sorry that would be a lie. I did have a girlfriend and that girl that was here, was in fact my girlfriend at one point, but we had been broken up for a while. I'm not sure what kind of guy you take me for but I would never do something like what we did if I was already with someone." he tried to assure you.

"Oh. Well, I feel stupid." feeling your cheeks heat up from embarassment you tried to fix your eyes on anything but Yoongi's face.

"Yes, well, I was too. I had the means to contact you but I was too scared. I thought I had really done something horrible."

You both sat there in silence for a few minutes thinking about how dumb you both were. Yoongi walked slowly over to you, his hand reaching out. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I know it’s not an excuse, but I really didn’t know she would show up like that. She had a rough time since we broke up even though it was a mutual decision.” He tried to explain.

“No, it’s really okay, Yoongi.” You smiled and tried to comfort him, “for the record though I don’t regret what happened. You made it a very special occasion for me.”

Yoongi slipped his hand into yours slowly, and intertwined your fingers, pulling you to him. Letting his other hand trail slowly up your arm, to your neck, then to your cheek while he leaned in and kissed you slowly. The kiss was just as soft as you remembered it from a year ago. Everything about this man was gentle.

Letting your hands settle on his hips, you pushed yourself closer into the kiss; into him. Your heart was already beating eractically in your chest just from a simple kiss. Pushing gently, you felt his legs hit the couch and pushed him down. Taking charge, you straddled his lap while his hands guided your hips to a more comfortable position. Your hands found their way to his perfectly round cheeks and held his face while you fought the urge to devour him right then and there.

You could already feel the bulge pressing into you and you ground down on his hips, pulling a soft moan from him. He pulled back to look up at you and smile, recirpocating the movement of grinding up into you. Sucking in a breath, the two of you continued that little game for several minutes. His hands trailed up inside of your shirt, up your ribcage and further up to pull your hoodie off. His lips went straight to your chest and began planting small kisses over every inch of skin he could find.

Without even realizing it, he had unclasped your bra with one hand and pulled the lacy garment down with his teeth, his mouth immediately finding the soft round bud on your breast and sucking  on it.

"Ahh.." you moaned, pushing your chest out just a little farther.

While his mouth worked on one nipple, his hand came up to the other and began to squeeze it gently and roll the sensitive bud between his fingers. You ground your hips down harder on his dick that you could assume was painfully strained in his pants.

Without warning, his hands went behind your knees and he flipped you so you were laying on your back on the couch. In one swift motion he pulled his shirt off over his head and discarded it somewhere behind the couch. Yoongi went directly back to your breasts, licking and sucking.

Allowing your hands to roam on his torso, you felt your way down his muscled chest to the top of his pants. Popping the button open quickly and all but shoving your hand down the waistband of his pants. Your hand found its target. Gripping Yoongi’s dick gently you began to pump him slowly.

“Fuuck..” his voice deep and husky against your skin. Before you knew it, Yoongi’s hands gripped the waistband of your sweats and pulled them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to him. You let go of him in shock.

His eyes roamed over your body slowly, appreciating what was in front of him. His long fingers gripped into your thighs and spread your legs apart and he quickly ducked down and began licking your pussy. Slow, teasing licks causing your breathing to speed up slightly.

One finger slid inside.

Then a second one.

He put the full attention of his mouth and tongue to your clit while his fingers worked their magic elsewhere. It didn’t take long for that sweet release to build up in the pit of your stomach.

“Ah, Yoongi..I’m-“ his fingers sped up ever so slightly and curled inward, hitting you just right and causing your orgasm to push through you.

“Holy fuck!” You raised your hand to your mouth and covered it while Yoongi continued what he was doing. Your legs were trembling but it felt too good to stop him.

You gazed down at him and caught him staring up at you from between your legs, if you hadn’t just came, you probably would again from that look alone.

Suddenly his fingers were gone from inside of you and inside of his mouth. He moaned and closed his eyes, tasting you on his fingers.

As much as you loved how gentle he was, you couldn’t take it anymore. You leaned up and pushed him back so he was sitting up. You made quick work of removing the rest of his clothing and straddling his lap. You could feel his dick pushing against you and it sent a shudder through your body.

It didn’t take too much adjusting before he was pushing into you. The feeling of his cock inside of your pussy was almost enough to send you over the edge again. Both of you moaned in pleasure, heartbeats picking up.

His hands found their way to your ass and you took that as a sign to go. However, leaving you without a chance to do anything about it, Yoongi began fucking up into you. His hips, slamming into you and the lewd sounds of skin slapping skin began to fill the small living room along with your combined moaning.

“Ah, you feel so fucking good.” Yoongi grunted, his eyes on yours, refusing to look away.

You settled with a nod in response because you knew you couldn’t reply with words. Instead you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close to you and his thrusting got faster and harder.

A quick slap of his hand across your ass brought forth a yelp from your lips, “shit, shit, shit, fuck this feels so good.” You whined in his ear.

It gave him the notion to fuck into you harder, and that feeling began welling up inside of you again. “Yoongi~.” You moaned.

“C’mon baby.” He groaned.

That’s all it took to send another shockwave through your body. Your arms held him tighter to you while he continued to fuck you through your second orgasm. His hips getting sloppier and more desperate, quickly he was brought to his own orgasm.

“God damn.” He grunted through it, his forehead pressed into your shoulder while his hips stilled.

You both relaxed into the couch together, still in your close position, not able to move.

“That was nice.” You muttered.

“More than nice. God, I’ve been thinking about that for a year.” He admitted with a small laugh.

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence, and it wasn’t long before you thought he had fallen asleep. You leaned back to gaze at him and he was staring at you in wonder.

“What are your plans for Christmas Eve?” He asked suddenly.

“Oh, I’m not sure. Why?”

“Would you like to spend it with me?”

You smiled and nodded, “and don’t worry. It won’t be like last Christmas. I won’t disappear.”

He laughed and smiled widely, “Good.”

—————————

[realiodelio]

The Race for Our Lives

Ight y'all it's Ted Talk time.

Calling in a threat isn't funny. It's not a part of your freedom of speech. What it is is terrifying. It's scary.

On Friday, Sept. 27th, around 3:45 p.m, I had just strapped my watch to the handle of an elliptical. A few minutes ago, I had been doing warm ups when one of my cross country coaches told me to go reserve a machine now if I planned to use it later. I left my water bottle in my locker with my things.

I don't know what time anything else happens after this, but here's the main order of events...

I had just gotten back in the line for warm ups, and was trying to catch up to everyone else. I was mentally questioning the freshmen boys who were jokingly fighting. Such a normal thing that even as I type it I'm wondering how it all went so sideways. The upperclassmen boys were joking around with them, but had told them to get back into their warm ups.

Maybe a minute has passed.

Suddenly, my coach comes in. "Everybody outside!" There's confusion. Shock. We were just told a few minutes ago that we were warming up inside today, because of the rain. What was going on? "Don't question it just go. Go, go, GO!"

Everyone got the sick feeling that something was wrong. It was only confirmed when we made it to the stairwell; through the clear glass panels that surrounded us, we could see cars, police cars, right outside the door. "Go, get as far away as you can." My friend and teammate, sobbing as she was struggling down the stairs in her crutches. "Watch out for her!" I remember hearing my coach say. "Don't slow down." I urged the boys around the two of us, before speeding past.

At this point in my mind, I was thinking "bomb threat". Just past the soccer fields I could see people slowing down, and then continuing onwards with a coach leading them. I was running as fast as I could.

My best friend was ahead of me, but I caught up to him in almost no time at all, then passed him. In the back I heard "Keep going!" From his teammate. "I'm not going without my brother!" Had been the response. Maybe calm anger to anyone who didn't know him, but if I had ever heard fear in his voice it was then.

I wasn't leaving without my best friend. Next to me, a boy I was crushing on had smiled and cracked a lame joke "Not like we don't do this every day during practice." I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't want to cry.

I slowed down to cross the road and get onto the trail behind the school. The car I had crossed behind was an off-white color. There were two boys in it looking as terrified as I had felt. My best friend wasn't behind me, at least not directly, and I practically stopped to wait for him and his brother. I needed to know he was OK- that they were okay.

At the end of the back road, my coach stood between the railroad tracks. Near the end of the school day, an announcement had been made saying they were closed. The red warning lights were still blinking, but we paid little heed. "Just keep going that way." The head coach gestured. "Just keep going."

Where? Where to? We had probably all been wondering. Perhaps the park, was my thought, maybe the library? I followed the crowd.

On the way, one of my teammates had slowed to a walk, texting someone. Crying. She's a year younger than I am. "Keep going" I told her. "Keep going. There's nothing you can do right now" I told her. "My foot hurts." She had been injured, I remember. One of many, not including myself. "Just keep going, you can do it." I didn't part from her for the rest of the run.

Several blocks down, an ex-classmate was in a company driveway with her mom. Her car was a vibrant red, like her hair. I gave her a hug "never been happier to see you" and "same here". She offered me and the group a ride, but we denied. We were instructed to cut through the backyard, get somewhere safe.

Maybe 8 meters later, me, my teammate, my best friend, and his brother got past the treeline. The coach who had earlier instructed me to reserve an elliptical was there, directing people to what I recognized as the District Office, or D.O for short.

"Final stretch," I remember joking. The Race for Our Lives.

I made it up the stairs and through the doorway. I needed to see my team. "Too many turns" I thought. "What the fuck. I just want my team."

"Just keep going this way, you'll be safe." Some administration person had told me. I was vaugly aware that I had been mad. At the number of turns? At her? At the shooter? I don't know. Maybe I'll never find out.

Everything after that was a wild blur in which time didn't exist.

Inside the safe zone, I met a heartbreaking sight. The freshmen girls were mostly gathered at one table, all crying. The boys were milling about, mostly on my right. My best friend was nearby- immediately, he got a hug. Girls gathered together, crying and comforting each other, telling their fears and their loves, and frantically apologizing to girls who they had thought there was tension with.

Hugs. Everyone on my team I needed to hug. To touch, to know and see and feel that They Are Safe, My Girls Are Safe. A number of freshmen and sophomores "Oh God, you're okay, I'm so glad you're okay, I was so scared for you. I was so scared." My response had been a surprised "Scared for me? How come? Look, I'm fine!!"

The sentence "I wasn't even worried for myself." Had been a commonality. Most of us worried for those in crutches or boots- later we discovered that they had safely made it into cars, and gotten away. Most people around me were in tears. I wasn't crying. I was laughing nervously, relieved.

Every girl I could hug, I hugged. I hugged my coaches. I hugged my best friend, maybe five times. Cell phones were being passed around, people were using the D.O phone, a phone I had looked at curiously when I came in, wishing I knew the extension number.

I asked my best friend to borrow his phone- I needed to call my mom before word got out. He didn't hesitate to tell me yes.

Three calls. No response. I sent a text explaining the situation, saying I was safe.

I never more regretted not having another phone number memorized.

I was lucky. There was a computer next to the D.O phone where I could sign into my school account and access my emergency contact list. The first person I called was my sister a quick run down of the situation, beginning with "I'm safe". Then I called my aunt, never more grateful she worked from home "Hey. It's me, your neice." I explained the situation and told her the address of the D.O. She said she would come to pick me up

After that was taken care of I continued making my way around the room, talking with people. Administration brought in water and snacks.

I stayed with my best friend until my aunt came to pick me up. Two of my little cousins had come along, glad I was safe and overall nervous about the situation with a giddy curiosity of relief that only kids could have- all the questions they could possibly ask, they did. My aunt offered to buy me dinner from the local restaurant. I acquiesced after the kids had assured me they wouldn't complain.

When we were pulling into the restaurant drive-up, I checked the time again. 5:26 p.m. Only an hour and 41 minutes had passed.

There are a number of details that are hard to place into this story, like me telling my best friend to text his girlfriend- casually reminding him that he doesn't need to have a phone number memorized when apps like Instagram and Snapchat exist. Or how I had told people while crossing the main street that if the cars have stopped, there's no point in waiting, just GO. People had come in several times giving us news updates- there's no active shooter, there's no live threat, they didn't find anyone with a gun in the building. A few mentionings of this getting into national television, but I voiced my extreme doubts about it. There's all the details of apologies I heard and the randomly shared personal facts. There's how I had friends who weren't athletes, other kids who had missed the bus, all in someone's house- some athlete whose mom was an officer, he lived in the neighborhood just across the road. People crowded in bedrooms and sitting on couches and tables and floors. All unsure of what to do, of what to say.

Those are unforgettable details.

We, as a team, were questioning what else would happen. Was there still a team dinner tonight? (Yes, but hardly anyone went) Were we going to race tomorrow? (yes, and we had 14 season Season Records, along with another 14 Personal Records). When we got onto the bus that Saturday morning, nothing was spoken about who had been missing. A silent but mutual understanding ran through the team.

Learning that it had been an anonymous and fake tip off had most people questioning things, especially during the moments we were waiting to get picked up to go home. Even still, people are wondering how such a thing could happen. Both scenarios are despicable. We had all feared the worst, and now we all fear still "What if this was real? What if it happens again, only it's not fake?"

It's sick that kids are going to spend possibly the rest of their educational careers wondering if school is safe. It's sick that this is oddly normal in America. It's sick that we had thought we were running for our lives. It's sick that someone called in a fake report- or even more terrifying, someone called in a report that could have been real.

It was terrifying, and that fear may never leave any of us students. We need to change something about this. I wish that I could have some type of solution, but I don't. I just don't.

That's all for now. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[captaindibbzy]

All y'all with no hills to stand on and enjoy sound like a very boring bunch of folk.

I got in to a book series around 2010-2011. Like, really got in to it. This book series really helped me through a really difficult time in my life. Through this book series I have met some of the best friends I have. I had quite a popular blog for this fandom. It wasn't as big as Harry Potter BY FAR, but we had our thing going on, and it was a huge part of my friend circle. This is how I had met these people. I would walk around and see something and go "oh hey, I know some people who would understand what I'm thinking" and I could share it with them.

About 4 years ago something happened between a friend of mine and the author.

Over the next so many years I started seeing more and more things crop up and the real colours of this person shining through. Other friends were reporting behaviour, and issues kept cropping up. Issues in the books themselves that I had previously been blind to, or that I simply hadn't noticed cause the books had helped me personally, started making more sense. The friend group I had broke apart, not that we weren't friends but we no longer had this central point of contact, so we just drifted in different directions. Some left Tumblr, the group chat went quiet, we started reading different books but none of those books could fill that gap in our lives this book series had filled because none of them resonated in the same way with all of us.

And this was a relatively small fandom in comparison to Harry Potter. Like, if you wanted merchandise for this series you had to make it, and I did make some. I reached a point this year where I finally decided I couldn't hold on and I pulled out over £200 worth of books, merch and memorabilia, including a hand made doll of one of the characters that I made at one point. I handed off my blog to someone who was still reading the books even if they didn't enjoy it as much, and I left.

Harry Potter is fucking huge and everywhere. You can walk in to any shop in the high street and you might well find a HP pencil case, or a t-shirt, or a teddy. You find rip-off merch, and rip-off books, and you can jump off the bus in a big city and find a random shop entirely dedicated to it, or go for lunch and find cakes decorated like it. The reminders are everywhere.

And it hurts. It hurts like a break up. It hurts like a bitch. You feel betrayed. Because this thing meant something to you, and this is how you made friends, and this was something happy for you. No it wasn't your entire identity, but the community and joy was part of it, and this thing was there for you in an important part of your life.

The bastard in my life is out there hurting people maybe one, two, or ten at a time by just being a colossal asshole. JK is out here targeting vulnerable people by the thousands. It took me 4 years to feel comfortouble with rounding up the shit in my life, coming to terms with the fact it was over and it wasn't a mistake and things aren't going to suddenly get better again, and this is after they hurt someone very close to me. HP people have just been slapped in the face with it on twitter and have to adjust very quickly. They're discovering who in their friend groups are ok with what JK is doing and who isn't.

It's not just a case of "lol read a different book" because they do. But no two books are the same, no community is the same, and no book means the same to other people. And when you stand there making fun of people who are breaking up with communities they have been part of since the fucking 90's in some cases you sound like those twats who stand around drinking expensive coffee in trousers that stop before their socks start going "of course I hated Harry Potter BEFORE it was cool. I am so cool and ahead of the curve."

“Potterheads read a different book” challenge

[justagayguysworld-blog]

Not sure what you will think of this one, but my mind inhabits the most unusual of places.

It was the last beer and we'd shared it on the way to town for another twelve-pack. I barely knew Antonio. He'd only been there a couple of weeks, but it was the damnedest thing I'd ever seen. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, could talk to a horse the way he did. I thought it was a fluke the first time. Then he did it again and I knew it couldn't be natural.

We had a contract with the state for wild mustang management. It wasn't the easiest job in the world, but I liked the outdoors and it beat hell out of watching my old man slap his third or fourth wife around. Maybe Sheila was the fifth; I'd stopped counting or giving much of a shit by that point. For my purposes at nineteen, it was a godsend they'd hired me and paid my bus fare to Utah. We rounded them up, checked them for diseases, tagged them, sold off the limit, gave them their shots and then trucked them back to the desert.

I'd been at the ranch for maybe three months when he came up one night seemingly outta nowhere and sat next to me at the fire. I greeted him in what little Spanish I knew. "Save it, dude. I speak English." And that was that.

One of the stallions was raising bloody hell in the pen and stirring up the other horses. I stood up to see if I could go quiet him down. Antonio braced a hand on my knee and said as he was standing, "Can I borrow that? Thanks." He took the beer out of my hand, turned it up and walked over to the corral with it in his hand. Sitting the bottle on the post, he hopped the fence, picked the bottle up and walked straight over to the hellraiser.

Just walked inside like he owned the place. He was fixing to get trampled to death near as I could tell, when he grabbed that bad boy by his mane and said something. The horse shook its head side to side. Antonio jerked harder on a handful of hair, the horse quieted down and lowered its head. Then the crazy fuck turned up that bottle, and I swear to God, I saw a mustang down the rest of my beer.

Tossing the bottle over, he walked back to the fence and hopped it again like nothing had happened. Picking up the empty he came back to the campfire and said, "Sorry about that. Can I get you another?"

Stunned, I asked, "What the fuck was that about?"

"Horses can smell fear. And some of them like beer." He walked away leaving me gape-jawed and went to the bunkhouse for another round. When he came back with our longnecks, he twisted the lid off one with his forefinger and thumb. I'd never seen anyone do that either.

Bottle in hand, I asked, "Where you from?"

"Can't say exactly. I tend to move around a lot. Guess you could call me a restless spirit." Bending down, he placed the same hand on my knee again to sit like an old man trying to find his bearings and steady himself. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but the chill of his touch radiated through my jeans to my kneecap.

The hand was just as icy when he extended it. "Antonio. What's your name, cowboy?"

"Jason. Jason Sparks. But most people just call me Rufus or asshole. Seems I'm the low man on the totem pole around here."

He laughed and said, "Not anymore. I just blew into town. I'll be working the night shift."

"Night shift? I wasn't aware we had one."

"Yeah, I'm something of a specialist. These positions can be hard to fill. Not everybody can handle an alcoholic horse with bad dreams."

I literally fell off the log laughing. Struggling to get up, Antonio grabbed the collar of my jacket and pulled me back to an upright position. Without any real effort on my part, I found my ass firmly planted on the log again. If he was superman, I didn't see where he could be hiding the muscles. We were about the same size and weight from what I could tell. He chuckled and mumbled something about horses not being the only alcoholics in those parts.

"I'll drink to that. Let me get us one more beer and then I guess I'll turn in for the night. Where are you bunking?"

"Next to you if there's room still available at the inn. Larry said to grab any empty bed I could find. And yours kind of looked like a mess when I was stowing my gear. But at least it didn't smell like shit."

Stopping to take a piss I wondered how he knew which bed was mine, but in the quest for brewskis I'd forgotten the question by the time I returned. As if reading the mind I was in the process of losing, he stated very matter-of-factly, "You don't smell like a cowboy or a horse with a drinking problem."

Not knowing exactly how to or if I should reply, I thought a moment and said, "Generally speaking, I don't go around smelling cowboys or their sheets, and I damned sure ain't smelling a horse's breath to see if they've been drinking."

He must've sensed my unease. Clinking his bottle against mine, he offered, "Sorry, I have a really weird nose. It smells the strangest damned things. Guess that's why I'm good with the horses. I smell what they smell."

"Ain't nothing wrong with your nose, Antonio," I blurted out. "You have a real nice nose. Most of these ugly old bastards have had their's broken in so many bar fights, I don't really want to think about it, much less how they smell."

Bumping his shoulder against mine, he clinked his nearly empty bottle to mine and said, "Yeah, I'll take loving over fighting any time I can. Probably why I get along with the horses and avoid divorces.

We had minimal contact after that. Other than rolling over or the occasional fart, I didn't hear much out of him for the next two weeks. Except in my dreams if I'm going to be perfectly damned honest about this. And generally speaking, I didn't have much of a habit dreaming about other men, at least not in that way. But there he was, more than once, pretty damned specifically. If I'd been anyone else, it would've been hard to ignore. Only I'd learned to master any direct concern for my actual feelings, and dick management had never been an issue for me personally.

The crew I was working was out on range management. I'd barely been back to the place long enough to sleep, much less for fireside chitchat. Then Saturday night came, we were going to take a couple days off and there he was. Just like in my damned dreams. I have no reason to lie. It was disconcerting when I saw him sprawled out there next to the fire. Not a care in the world, acting as if he'd grown up right out of the ground on that very spot, he smiled.

Looking me directly in the eye as if he hadn't invaded my dreams, he said casually as a cousin, "Hey Jason Sparks, if you're going to the house, could you grab me another cold one?" It had been a particularly hard week, I was bone-ass tired and his nose still wasn't broken in six different places. Two beers later we were left alone with a raging fire and the feelings I was experiencing that matched that blaze. I really wanted to kick his ass. Antonio had seriously fucked with my head, and he didn't seem to know or at least care.

He got up for the third round. It wasn't my knee he touched that sent icy shivers up my spine this time. It was my thigh. About three inches below the part that separates the men from the boys. Close enough for discomfort, I met his glaze and that fire was dancing in his eyes. His nose still wasn't broken, but the quiet smirk on his face made me seriously think about rearranging it.

Fucker scratched my head as he walked away like I was some kind of damned puppy in love. Brought back another round and said, "These are the last ones, Jason Sparks. Let's polish them off and make a run into town. I'm still thirsty. If you'll drive, I'll buy."

That was the night and I guess the moment that changed or ended my life. Something deep inside me could hear it slowly rumbling. I'd seen it in those dreams. I simply didn't have the power to say no or the least of will to fight him. And we weren't struggling. I guess that was what's so odd about it. Everything in my body and soul knew it was happening, even if my conscious mind was slow in catching up. I wanted him. I'd be the worst kind of liar if I said I didn't. And I knew he knew it.

He took my hand and pulled me up off the ground. I could've just as easily staggered to my feet of my own accord. But he wanted that ice running through my veins clashing with my toasted toes inside those boots. And I felt it. Felt it thoroughly as we climbed in the truck and started the motor. Only once did he touch my body on the way to the store. It was completely casual and anything but innocent as the shivers raced up and down my spine.

He went in and came out. I felt very strange. Almost in an out-of-body floating feeling I drove away into the darkness of the rural night. I still remember. It was as vivid, quiet and unstoppable as a freight train bearing down on the family sedan stalled on the side of the tracks.

"Pull over." I could've kept driving, but the truth was that I'd pulled over two weeks before. "I said pull over, Jason Sparks." He didn't have to ask again. And the truth, as he very well knew, is that I'd been wanting to pull over my whole life. The cab of the truck was full of echoes and whispers as I floated above my body while it and he crawled into the back seat. Voices were everywhere, the engine was running and for the first time in my life I didn't give a damn.

I thought in some delirious way I was about to kiss a boy, but that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. My feelings, those secreted desires weren't important. We weren't boys. I'd become a man without realizing or acknowledging it, and that brief period of my life was about to end abruptly.

It was brutal. How could I possibly forget when he folded down the lambswool collar of my jacket and sunk his teeth into my flesh? I could've fought him off, but I'd already struggled my whole life to be something different than what I was. Antonio was reconciling my conflicts, meeting my innermost longings and he'd bought the beer.

[sxmriddhi]

Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, and if you do I get it, but your post earlier today made me curious. What happened with your old best friend? You seem to have mentioned them a few times on here and I wondered why you weren't talking and why you can't talk now.

Wow erm, that’s quite a story. It’s got lots of different parts to it so be prepared for a long post:

Me and my best friend (let’s call them Alexa) met in year 7. We were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to start a new school and met on the bus trips there. She was the introvert to my extrovert. We bonded over our various obsessions over the years (One Direction, Taylor Swift, A Rocket to the Moon, Les Mis, Wicked, Busted, books and TV shows - pretty much what you’d expect 11-16 year old’s to bond over) and we spent more and more time together over the years. It got to the point where Alexa was staying at my home every other weekend. We had inside jokes and shared so many secrets (this becomes important later). Alexa’s mom even went as far as to joke about paying rent for the amount of time her daughter spent at my house.

I also introduces Alexa to my other best friend (let’s call her Jo). Jo was in my class and we bonded around year 9. We quickly became close too because our school was unhealthy and relationships were either 100% or 0%. It meant that most people spent all their time with the same few friends. At that age you don’t realize how helpful a little space is because you don’t want to miss out on anything. It’s something I still have to remind myself of because of how unhealthy my relationships were in high school.

So through years 10-11, the three of us slowly became a team. By year 11, we were the three musketeers. We did everything together. We were the typical movie girl squad who geeked out and had sleepovers and went on adventures. All my pictures had those two in. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was the one who did all the planning. I invited them over. I made plans with them. I sorted out tickets and travel and meals out. My dad gave us rides and cooked us food. I spent money on birthdays and christmases because I thought that was what friends do.

What movies don’t tell you is that friendships aren’t supposed to be one-sided like that. They don’t show the planning or the person more invested in a friendship. They don’t show how unhealthy a friendship can become and how manipulated a young girl can feel with trying to impress her friends who, by all means, hadn’t necessarily done anything wrong…yet.

Sixth form arrived. And things fell to shit.

After a summer of anti-prom, summer trips, talking about our futures, looking forward to the next two years, I came back to school and continued with my life. We were in a larger group of friends that had sort of amalgamated Alexa’s class friends and my class friends. Alexa got to know my wider group. But she also began to withdraw from it all slightly. I could tell something was wrong and eventually she felt comfortable enough to confide in me: she had a crush on a girl in our group. Now, this isn’t a big deal to anyone I know. The issue is that this is an all girls school. The girl that Alexa liked had a girlfriend. Alexa’s family was slightly religious. Alexa wasn’t sure if the feelings were romantic or just a close friendship. She didn’t feel any sexual feelings and was still emotionally attracted to men as well so it was all confusing for her.

Now, let’s introduce character number three: Let’s call her Vicky. Vicky was horrible. She’d always been horrible to me. In year 12 I had gotten the lead role in our school musical and she’d thrown a fit. She claimed it was an attempt for the school to look racially inclusive rather than just due to me deserving the part. She turned people against me. She spread rumours about me and tore me down. She was everything that a school bully entails. But she was also subtle about it. She was sly and slow and her comments were barely noticable. Her tone was slightly different or her word choices were slightly off. She’d fail to say hello to me when sitting with my entire group of friends. She’d conveniently place more faith in others when we were told to work in a group. She’d forget to invite me to things. 

She wanted to know Alexa’s secret. So I covered for Alexa. I told everyone that I was the one struggling with feelings for someone and that Alexa was helping me. Then, once Alexa became comfortable enough to tell our friends about her feelings but wouldn’t say who it was, I told people it was me so that the heat would disperse and they would stop prying. I did this all with Alexa’s permission. I made sure she wanted this to happen so that she didn’t have to face the others. Then she told the girl she liked (via a letter - this is also important) and they finally got together. But Alexa was still unhappy. She realized it wasn’t just her sexuality that was changing but her gender identity. She trusted me with this secret and I kept it. I supported her through all the choices and changes she made. I called her Alex and, in private, used the pronouns he/him (which I will adopt from hereafter). Alex finally told our friends when he felt ready but quickly began to withdraw from me and I couldn’t understand why. All I’d done was support and love him? I just wanted him to be happy.

Alex, Jo and I had a plan to watch the Teen Wolf finale in March that year at my house before meeting the rest of our friends the next day to go ice skating. Suddenly Jo had to pull out for an “emergency opticians appointment”. Bit sketchy but okay. She said she’d meet me on Saturday for ice skating instead. Then a few days later Alex said he was busy with family matters so would meet me on Saturday along with the others too. I accepted it. I felt slightly hurt but understood their reasoning. On Friday afternoon, I double checked the times we were all meeting before we left school and on Saturday I had my dad drive me to where we were going to meet to find…. nobody.

Nobody was there. I called everyone. Someone eventually picked up and explained that the time had changed and hadn’t anyone told me? They’d already been and gone. But why had nobody questioned my absence if so? Wouldn’t you worry that your friend hadn’t shown up to a preplanned meeting?

I felt humiliated. I’d been abandoned by my friends and my dad had to watch it all happen. I was crying and inconsolable. That Monday I went to ask what had happened and was told that it had been Alex’s idea to disinvite me. I didn’t understand. What had I done that was so wrong? I was so hurt and felt so betrayed. We’d been friends for six years and this was how it would end? Didn’t I even deserve a letter detailing what Alex felt about me? Did I mean less to him than his crush had?

We didn’t speak for the rest of that school year. I didn’t speak to any of them. None of them had stood up for me and nobody came to console me after I left the group. None of them cared enough to check up on me. They’d all just accepted my absence.

Year 13 began after an incredibly lonely summer. I sat alone for lots of my free time before slowly attempting to repair what was broken. Another mistake on my part. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Why should I be attempting to make amends? But I did. It started with small smiles and little hellos. I tried to support Alex when he got into a huge fight with Jo. He wrote her a letter detailing his feelings then too. Once again, why did everyone except me deserve an explanation? We didn’t discuss the incident in March. I picked his name in secret santa that year and used the opportunity to detail a personal, heartfelt card along with my gift to him, expressing how much I’d loved knowing him this last 7 years. In January we even went on a trip to London together. Things were slowly normalizing.

Then his stepfather died. Then his grandfather. Then he started hanging out with Vicky. Then he told her my secrets and stopped speaking to me again. He made cryptic posts about me on his blog. He cancelled plans. He laughed in my direction. He started spreading rumours. He broke my heart all over again.

He and Vicky became inseparable. Nobody understood it but it happened. And the group divided along with them. He called me a bad friend and a terrible person on his blog. He wrote about how he didn’t want to be friends with me and didn’t like me at all. He spoke of his new friend and how she was so much better. How he’d wasted time with me. I checked his blog every day. I read through the posts obsessively and tried to analyse his feelings. I tried to understand if he was having a good day or a bad day. I wanted to be able to help him if he was hurting, even after everything he was doing to me.

More fights happened and more tears were shed. I can’t even remember half the things that were said and done because I was so disorientated by the whole situation. I wasn’t eating right. I wasn’t sleeping well. I had exams that I couldn’t focus on. I felt like I was disintegrating. I’d spent seven years loving this person - nearly half of my life - only for them to toss me aside like I was nothing. We had grown up together. We’d painted my room together. We’d lived our lives together. But not anymore. Now he had Vicky.

What do you do when your best friend starts spending time with the one person who made your high school life a living hell? You panic.

I spent almost every Friday afternoon crying alone because of him. I had panic attacks and nightmares. I had no self-esteem and little hope at ever making any friends again. I had to see the school councillor.

Being in a bad situation doesn’t give you an excuse to be a dick.

But I still tried. I made a gift for his mother as she’d lost her father and partner within months. I wrote her a letter explaining that I was sorry I couldn’t be around to help more due to the situation with her daughter (she didn’t know about his gender identity changes yet so I had to write daughter) but that if she required any help that my family was always available for them. I spent nearly £100 on gifts that I knew they’d like and things that we’d shared over the years. I left the gift with a neighbour to give to them and then left. 

Days passed…then weeks, months even. I heard nothing back. Did they get the gift? Had the neighbour stolen it? What had happened? I plucked up the courage to text Alex and received the nail in the coffin of our relationship. He said he wanted me to stop pretending to be his friend. He called me selfish and heartless and a bitch. He said I shouldn’t have gotten his mother involved (in what? I can’t tell you because I don’t know myself) and that i should just never speak to him again. He said he’d thrown the box out and wanted nothing from me. I cried again. I felt alone again. What had I done? I thought I was doing a good deed.

That was the last time I heard from him until I started university. That summer had been about reinventing myself. I’d gone to the gym. Hell, I’d gone to New York! I’d been in a car accident. I’d changed my own life. I moved to uni and used a different name, leaving my old nickname in high school. I created a Facebook account to make new friends here. I deleted old phone numbers and cut my hair. I made a resolution to stop checking his blog obsessively. I tried to become someone new. 

I was in my new room in the dormitories and posted a video on snapchat of my friend using the tambourine he’d previously gifted to me before I threw it out. I didn’t have Alex on any social media so I wasn’t being spiteful. It was just a fun night in my room, ridding myself of any old, bad memories. A few days later I got a message from him demanding it back. I had trashed it and I didn’t want to speak to him so I didn’t respond. Then I received another message, then an email, then more messages over the next few months all threatening to “take things further” unless I returned his property. I blocked all the numbers, deleted the emails. Then he tried to add me as a facebook friend. I didn’t want that. I was finally moving on. Then he had his new boyfriend and other flatmates try to contact me. I blocked them too.

Even up until just a month ago, I get random attempts to contact me. I can’t go back there. The situation was unhealthy. I can’t return to that person that I was. He changed me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust someone that freely again. I live in fear that he’ll be the closest thing to a relationship I’ll ever experience. That he’ll be the only person I ever loved enough to let all the way in. I’m scared that he was my person and I’ll never have someone like that again.

We all talk about how when you break up with your partner, it kills a part of you. Nobody ever talks about when you break up with your person. He was my person. And losing him killed me.