#and yet by the time i save up enough money a new semesters gonna start and im gonna be back to square one
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why couldn't my family be rich if I just had an extra $2000 that would solve literally all of my problems
#i have a list of things i need that would solve all of my wants and needs and theyre so close yet so far#1. a new laptop 2. a headset 3. my crossfit membership back 4. mcat study set 5. a keyboard piano#and yet by the time i save up enough money a new semesters gonna start and im gonna be back to square one
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Hi I’m super upsetti and in my emotions right now so I’m gonna actually use tumblr as a personal blog for once
Situation: my friend/roommate and I have been living together for three years. Two of those were with other people who moved out last year and my friend and I decided to stay in the same house and continue living together. At the time of resigning the lease, they had a steady job and had been at said job for nearly a year, and were looking into other jobs down the line to upgrade to while getting their masters
Shortly after we resigned the lease, they had a series of really good interviews for a new job and were so hopeful about it that they decided (in a decision I was informed about only after it was already said and done) to put in their two weeks with the current job before even getting hired
Spoiler alert:they never got hired at that job
Suddenly instead of having some split on the rent, I was forced to take on the entire rent ($2,020 plus bills, mind you) every month. That’s my entire income. It’s only thanks to some inheritance that I didn’t need to worry about being catapulted into living paycheck to paycheck but every month I would be drained of more money as every single cent I earned went just to rent and bills, and any money I spent on top of that immediately proceeded to skim more money out of my savings.
It took five months for them to get hired again, and then another month after that before they were even put on the schedule to start working (the place was going down the drain and had a leadership crisis so nobody was communicating, supposedly) and they miraculously also got hired at a second place on their college campus but I guess they requested(??) that job not start until the next semester(????).
Even after getting hired they proceeded to then call out at least once a week or every other week. All of the money they made went immediately to catching up with and paying off all of their own stuff, which is very understandable when you’ve been unemployed for a while, but is still exhausting when I’m still not seeing a cent of my paychecks since I’m too busy covering their ass on all the shared bills and rent.
Around this time we did finally manage to get some other roommates who were good for helping on the rent and did so promptly, so thankfully at least some of the load was relieved.
Even so, now we are all moving out and yet another problem has arisen as we run down to the wire. The two who moved in later have fully moved out and cleaned up after themselves, and are volunteering to come in and help with the remaining cleaning. I split up my move into two major parts of furniture first, then possessions a couple weeks later, so I’m about to enter the final drive to move said possessions and do a full house clean in the next couple days
Roomie one rushed their move because they didn’t want to be the last one in the house and did not manage to secure enough storage space with their limited funds, and so has now ended up leaving a whole bunch of their possessions behind. Supposedly they can come up on the very last day to do the last of the cleaning, but they can’t take any more of their possessions and is essentially discarding them for either the landlord or me to take care of
Extra fun fact I haven’t yet mentioned: I’m the only one with any money in the security deposit anymore, and if the landlords decide to keep the whole thing I’m the only one who stands to lose all of those $2000 dollars. I have no guarantee I’ll get any of it back in the first place, because I’ve never moved out of a lease under this company before, but I can’t help but be pissed off that my roommate is just abandoning the rest of the possessions for me to deal with and now I have to take them with me or discard them myself if I want to prevent further fees from the landlords.
Anyway I’m exhausted and sick and tired of dealing with this whole situation. There’s plenty of nuance to their side of the story I haven’t written down, but as the person who knows and understands that nuance I can’t help but feel mislead and lied to that someone who was supposed to be able to meet me as an equal and a friend in this living situation essentially took advantage of my kindness and loyalty to the people I care about to keep screwing me over. They say they feel terrible and that they were trying really hard to remedy their joblessness and they they’ll pay me back for all the money I had to fork over to cover them but I’ve always been an actions speak louder than words type of person and so far their actions have done nothing but screw me over
#me#I needed to just get this off my chest#recorded somewhere unobtrusive#it’s just a really shitty situation#but I also don’t really want to bother other people with what’s happening when I’m all fired up#I hate having my loyalty to people abused like this
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Hey Neighbor (Part 1)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1907 Warnings: none
Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.
A/N: What started as an idea back in 2017 is finally here and I’m so excited!! I hope you love it as much as I do! A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira and to Allie @all1e23 who’s helped me keep my sanity while trying to write. Feedback is always appreciated!
HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST
For an August evening it’s surprisingly comfortable, devoid of that awful humidity that leaves you choking on the thickness in the air. Yet it’s still warm enough to quickly melt the ice in your glass; condensation pooling on the outside, leaving a ring of water on the small stack of papers your drink is settled on.
Golden toned clouds cover the sky as the sun begins to fade, each day decreasing its presence by a few minutes before giving way to the darkness that would envelope the evening. It wasn’t a dramatic change, nor was it something most people would pay attention to, though it was something you had been accustomed to taking note of.
You looked forward to seeing the sun, feeling its heat on your skin as you stepped out of the office after a long day of work. As other people on the street rushed towards the subway you stood off to the side, letting your spirit recharge with its warm glow.
These days you seldom had time for yourself, moments when you could enjoy the nothingness, where you could stop and breathe, and take in the world around you. The murmured voices of the passersby, the hissing sound of the bus as it opens its doors, the soft strum of a guitar, the endless car horns and the sound of traffic that keeps this city alive like a beating heart.
The heat of your laptop warmed your thighs as you thumbed through a textbook. You ignored your rumbling stomach that begged you for a real dinner but you were determined to finish up this last part of your paper before you gave in to its whining demands.
You were working towards your Master’s Degree in Social Work but it had taken a lot longer than you expected, and juggling a full time job while taking part time classes made it more difficult but you were determined to achieve your dream.
You thought it would be simple when you first moved to New York; go to college, get your degree and find a job. Well, life has a funny way of doing what it wants despite the plans you imagined. Halfway through getting your undergraduate degree your living arrangements changed. Initially you were sharing an apartment with a few other students but your landlord hadn’t told you he was months into foreclosure and suddenly you found yourself scrambling to find a place to live.
The first instinct you had was to ask your current roommates if you all wanted to find something else together but one of them planned on moving in with a friend temporarily since she was about to graduate and the other wanted to live alone. You scoured the internet for another room rental but nothing looked safe or legitimate, and searching through Facebook groups for student rentals was fruitless. Nothing was available considering it was the middle of the semester, so you quickly began an apartment search.
Your definition of expensive drastically changed since moving to New York. Even simple things like food and coffee had an up charge; a small, no– large price to pay for city living, and rent was no different. You thought what you were paying to live in a small room was a lot, but as you searched for apartments your heart dropped. Even the smallest studio cost thousands a month.
There was one that caught your eye, the price was decent but still more than what you were currently paying. You attempted to work out a plan, thinking you could use some money from what little savings you had to make up the difference for the first month or two and hope your part time job would increase your hours. Things would be tight but there was a chance you could make it happen.
Your hope was crushed the next day when you went to see the apartment, a five story walk up that reeked of musty water. The cracked plaster walls were very off putting as were the suspicious black spots along the baseboards. The bathroom was much smaller than the photos, with hardly any room to even turn around in. Still you debated making this work as long as the suspected mold was taken care of until you opened the kitchen cupboards and screamed. A dark mass of large cockroaches scattered away from the light cementing your decision that you could not live here.
That night you texted your friend from home, Wanda, telling her about the horrible apartment and crying on the phone as she called to comfort you.
Wanda had been your best friend since you met in middle school. You always hoped she would join you in New York but you understood her reasons for wanting to be close to home.
“Wan, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you cried.
The clock was ticking and you still hadn’t found a place to live. Every day you searched through all the listings on Zillow, Apartments.com and Craigslist, and every day your anxiety increased. It seemed like there was no way to be a full time student if you wanted to live in New York.
You called your parents to let them know what was going on and asked for advice. Through many tears you had come to a painful decision, you needed to get a full time job. They offered to help with rent while you finished up this semester which you appreciated, knowing they really couldn’t afford the extra expense either. Your idea was to go to school part time, taking whatever courses you could at night or on the weekends. You were still reaching for your goal, you would just be taking a slower path.
A new listing popped up for an apartment in Chelsea that was about three times your current rent. Walking into the building your stomach was bubbling with excitement. Everything was bright and clean and the moment you stepped into the apartment you were overcome with joy; this place felt like home.
A smile spread across your face as you looked around the studio. Walking in there was a small kitchen to the right, with a slim refrigerator, small stove and just enough prep space beside the sink. Checking the cabinets you were relieved to know it was free of any insect roommates.
The bathroom was behind it, looking newly renovated while still emulating a classic vintage style of black and white tiles. The main room felt large with the window on the back wall letting in a good amount of sunlight. The cream colored walls also brightened the space against the longest wall of exposed, worn brick. The floors were a beautiful dark walnut that made everything feel warm.
You always thought love at first sight was a myth but you were proven wrong, you fell in love with this apartment immediately. You signed a lease and gave a deposit and suddenly everything seemed like it would fall into place. There was still the daunting task of finding a full time job but you felt encouraged.
Two weeks later you moved into your new apartment, and while you should have been studying for a test you were more interested in unpacking and decorating, making everything perfect. With a few nails into the drywall you hung a curtain rod above your bed, stringing fairy lights behind delicate sheer drapery that defined a cozy sleep space.
Laying back against your pillow you imagined what your apartment would look like eventually when you had the money to fill it with furniture, but for now it was perfect.
You had been on a few interviews and nearly had a job or two before they realized you wouldn’t be able to start for another six weeks. It was disappointing but you didn’t give up and that’s when you found yourself interviewing for Stark Industries.
A confident smile held strong on your face when you told the interviewer Ms. Parker you would be able to start when your semester was over. This led you both into a discussion about college as she told you about her teenage nephew who was interested in the STEM field and had begun looking into college options. Ms. Parker liked you a lot, and the job was yours as soon as you were ready for it.
You became the administrative assistant to Maria Hill, Director of Research and Development who worked closely with the senior staff. You had seen the infamous Tony Stark only once, popping his head out of the conference room as Ms. Hill and CEO Pepper Potts continued to chat.
From your desk you admired the women you aspired to be as confident as some day. Social work was a tough field, one where you needed to balance composure and empathy with assertiveness.
While working at Stark Industries you managed to take two classes per semester, fitting them in on nights and weekends. You wished you would have been able to do more but even this was burning you out quickly. You had little time to socialize but knew this would be worth it in the end.
A few years passed and had life not derailed your plan you would have had your Master’s by now, instead you had one last class to finish before you needed to complete 1200 hours of an internship. You pushed that off until the end, knowing it would take you some time to find a place that would accept you. Even though you would be working for free most places wanted you there at times that conflicted with your paying job.
As the sun began its slow descent the noise of the city increased and you had to shut your window to block out the sounds. All but one.
The soft guitar had increased in volume playing a familiar tune you heard every night. It wasn’t a song you’d ever heard before but your neighbor had played it often enough it was in your head. Instead of writing about a social worker’s role as an advocate for protecting human rights your mind drifted along with the melody.
It was a nice song but not one you wanted to hear every night and yet, every night your neighbor played like they were performing a concert instead of being considerate to the fact that they have neighbors, some of whom are trying to write a damn paper!
You haven’t seen this neighbor yet but you heard him moving into the apartment about a month ago. The paper thin walls allowed you to hear everything, from the instruments he played to the various women. Oh yes, he played them too, using a different one each night. Unfortunately you were able to tell the difference between each one by the sounds of the shrieks and moans that were burned into your mind until you decided to wear headphones to sleep.
Any attempts to continue your paper are futile and so you pack up your laptop and books and head down to the cafe a few blocks away that stays open late. It’s unfortunate that on top of the expensive rent and the cost of school you had to leave the comfort of your apartment to spend more money while occupying space in the cafe just to do your homework; all because of that selfish “Music Man” that you couldn’t wait to give a piece of your mind to.
PART 2
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Ramen Rivals
synopsis: Rivals in the kitchen, rivals even with ramen - two rivaling restaurateurs fight over the only cup of instant noodles left in the convenience store
pairings: kim seokjin x reader (oneshot)
rating: R | genre: classic e2l trope; gourmet chef! seokjin and reader ; smut; humor; fluff ; crack | warnings: swearing, explicit sex, kitchen sex, implied bathroom sex, multiple orgasms
word count: 12k RIP MY BRAIN
a/n: Ahhhh, his is actually a re-written version of one i posted way way back 2018 LOOOL idk what to feel anymore after this akfaowiejfoawe the last parts are actually heavily unedited ACK
navi.
Kim Seokjin.
That’s it. That’s the name. That’s the tweet.
You never knew three syllables could affect you this much, could bring you this great distress. The mere mention of it makes you reel, roll your eyes, ball up your fists, makes the tiny hairs on your nape stand on end.
Long story short, Kim Seokjin makes your blood boil.
It doesn’t help either that he was Adonis himself – complete with cat eyes, plump lips, and a dashing smile, or that he has rock-hard abs hiding underneath that white double-breasted jacket, or that he busts out corny ass dad jokes as much as he winks at people (which is a LOT of times, by the way), or that he’s an undeniably an exceptional chef (such as yourself, duh) and has now erected a gourmet restaurant next door to rival yours, OR the completely obvious fact that you two have history.
The short period of time in the past that you shared with him wasn’t exactly one you would be embarrassed of, or something you want to forget. Instead, it’s the exact opposite. You’re ashamed of the fact that you hadn’t gotten over it until now, three years later. He was your OGF – Mr. One Great Fuck. Kim Seokjin still holds the belt for the title of making you cum six consecutive times in a single night. How he managed to do that and how nobody else has measured up to that, you’ll never know.
You’d initially met him at Les Coulisses Du Chef in Paris, where you had enrolled yourself in a patisserie class to expand your knowledge on French pastry and hopefully get a certificate for it. You’d been meaning to take the class since forever, yet you’d been waitlisted year after year until last year when one of the applicants had backed out, they’d called you in, merely half a month before the program started.
Three weeks into the semester, Seokjin had introduced himself to you, or rather, had told you a dad joke as an introductory preview of his personality. You’re glad he did though, else you would have been surprised if you discovered the kid was part Greek god, part chef, part dad jokes, and .01% brain cell.
“What do you call a fake noodle?” asks .01% brain-cell-man seated beside you, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the prominent veins on his forearms. You’re momentarily distracted by the action, completely missing out the question he’d just asked you. ��Sorry, what?”
“What do you call a fake noodle?” Gosh, you shouldn’t have asked him again. If only he knew the number of times you’d hear- “Impasta!” He snorts, holding a fettuccine noodle in one hand and the other clutching onto his tummy as he doubles in his laughter.
You’re just standing beside him, slack-jawed, unsure if this was just a sick dare. Who was this guy? Was he even in the same class as you? Was he high? Perhaps he mistook flour for coke? His laughter dies down when he sees your face, sans-reaction.
“Wait, you understand English right? Um… comprendre English? Oui?”
“Yes, I can understand English.”
“Then why didn’t you laugh?” You raise a brow. This stranger just comes up to you, tells you a lame joke, and now he expects you to laugh?
“This is gonna sound real mean, but it was really an old joke...and a lame one at that,” you retort, your face crumpled into one of faux pity.
“Hey! No need to make it personal!” he counters, placing a hand over his heart, face contorting into a grimace. “You, Rafa!” He half-shouts, pointing an accusatory finger to someone behind you. “You said it would be a great ice-breaker!” Your eyes follow the Rafa he’s pointing at, the latter quickly shakes his head, telling you he doesn’t know the man in French.
“Is this man bothering you?” Rafa nods sadly.
“What?! How dare you turn the tables on me?? I’m your only friend!” You turn to glare at pasta guy, who continues to wail behind you. Rafa snorts from across at the sight of pasta guy making a fool of himself behind you and eventually takes pity on him.
“I’m sorry, Jin’s just been meaning to talk to your since the start of semester, so he’s asked me for advice on how to approach you...I told him to tell you a good ‘ole joke in the kitchen since we’re all chefs here...I didn’t actually think he’d take it...seriously.”
“Wow! Betraying and exposing me all at once!! Why won’t you just fry me alive in olive oil, huh? That would be less painful.” Jin-pasta complains, arms gesticulating wildly in the air. You watch them unabashedly bicker in front of you concurrently amused at the whole spectacle.
The three of you become close friends soon thereafter, Jin claiming your trio as the ‘Kitchen Musketeers’. Yes, he managed to convince the entire class to call your tiny group of friends that name. And yes, that wasn’t the worst idea Seokjin had in mind when he was considering a name for your trio. You didn't even want to start to reminisce about the rest of Seokjin’s bizarre suggestions: Charlie’s Cooks (to his defense, you did have a substitute mentor named Charlie), Gourmetbusters, Pecanpuff Girls, The Three Sausagees (more like two sausages and one bun). You’ve always cringed at the last one.
Despite your trio’s antics, Rafa considers himself the third wheel more than anything. Rafael was not oblivious to the crush on Seokjin that you’ve been harboring for months.
It was the day of your graduation from the short course you’d taken - the three of you decided to have a celebratory wine party at Seokjin’s rented apartment. That same night was when you found yourself drunk on pinot noir and Seokjin’s lips. The rest was history.
Finding the bed and the rest of his apartment empty the next morning, you took your leave and fared your walk of shame along the streets of Paris with teary eyes and a bruised heart.
Your Mr. OGF also turned out to be Mr. One God-Tier Fucker. Or perhaps the title also belonged to you, Ms. One Gigantic Fool, who thought that maybe she could have been more than a one-night-stand between two colleagues whose relationship could never be more than a professional one.
Colleagues. The apparent ‘label’ lets out a boisterous laugh at your face. Gosh, you’re a pathetic fucking fool.
Thankfully, your flight back to Korea was scheduled that day as well,, so you wouldn’t have to see Seokjin’s pretty face any longer or rather - what you wouldn’t admit even to yourself - you wouldn’t be able to confront the face of the truth you wanted to hide deep beneath the recesses of your heart.
At least, that’s what you thought.
One and a half years after you got your certificate in Paris, you had finally saved enough money to start your business - a gourmet restaurant situated in the heart of Gangnam. You already had patrons from the restaurant where you previously worked, and the opening of Canapé had garnered more customers than you initially expected.
Business had been thriving for a year, that is, until someone decided to erect a new gourmet restaurant just beside yours. Having a rivalling establishment wasn’t new news to you, neither did it truly bother you as to no longer having the monopoly in gourmet restaurants located in this part of Gangnam.
A week after the opening of your neighbor’s Ambrosia - you decided to bring over a friendly bottle of wine you had shipped straight from France with the hopes that you can become acquainted with your fellow restaurateur.
As you move along the crosswalk and reach Ambrosia’s podium outside intended for the maitre d’, you shift your weight between your legs, an unconscious habit that only Seokjin took notice of. Ridding your thoughts of the man who shall no longer be named, you let your mind wander off to your own worker’s description of the alleged owner.
Out of all your staff’s depiction of Ambrosia’s owner, it’s your sommelier’s and manager’s descriptions that have struck you the most.
Yoongi, your timid sommelier, tells you that the owner was a stout man in his mid-forties with Caucasian features, while your manager, Jinhee said he was a man around your age with a face and built that could easily pass for a K-Pop idol.
You were leaning towards Yoongi’s description because Jinhee would have most likely mistaken a real idol for the owner since there were plenty of celebrities who hung out in Gangnam and would meet up in restaurants like yours. Either way, celebrity look-a-like or not, you were determined to meet your neighbor.
“There’s someone outside, Hobi,” a busser informs the maitre d as he wipes the last table for the day. Three pairs of eyes look at you through the glass.
You continuously peer from the outside as you can’t see much from due to the darkness inside, where only a few dim lights are on. “Go on then, Hobi,” the owner states, nudging the maitre d towards the door.
Hoseok takes a glimpse of you through the glass panel and faces the owner. “Hyung, she seems pretty. Why don’t you do it? You ought to have a proper girlfriend right now. It’s about time you move on from your love interest in Paris! Plus you’re the owner of the restaurant!”
“Hobi, I still have to do kitchen check, remember? And for the record, I have moved on from her. Chop chop.” Hobi gives him an incredulous look, highly doubting his boss had already forgotten about her. “Right away, Mr. Seokdon Ramsay.”
You’re drawn from your thoughts when you hear the melodic sound of the bell as the door opens and a man with a bright smile comes out. “Hello! My name’s Hobi, can I help you with anything?”
“Um..hi! I’m from Canapé just across the street… are you, perhaps, the owner of Ambrosia?”
“Oh! I’m not the owner…I wish I was though if I had someone pretty like you looking for me…” You laugh awkwardly in response, unsure of what you should reply to such a line. The two of you remain standing there, staring at each other. “Um...is the owner there then? It would be nice if I can speak to him or her or them…” you let out a small cough, looking away.
“Right! Of course, sorry about that! I’ll tell him to come out.” Hobi scurries back inside and soon you hear incoherent yelling and laughter from inside the restaurant.
“Hyungnim! Hyung!!” Hobi calls out once more, eyes searching wildly for Seokjin. “What now?” Seokjin emerges from the kitchen with the busser in tow. “Hyung! She’s fucking hot! And I feel like I’ve known her from somewhere…plus she says she’s from our neighboring restaurant! I told you, you were the one who should’ve gone out there. By the way, I think she’s calling wine o’clock too – and the bottle she’s holding looks like expensive French Cabernet Sauvignon!”
Seokjin narrows his eyes at his maitre d, “You seem to have been spending a lot of time with that sommelier from across the street.” The owner of Ambrosia shakes his head at his friend, who pushes him towards the door. “Hurry! You wouldn’t want to keep a pretty girl waiting!”
You’ve been waiting patiently outside, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you watch people come and go. The streets of Gangnam was always lively, and it still surprises you at this point that you had decided to put up a restaurant in the midst of the hustle and bustle of a city like such because you’ve always wanted to erect one by the countryside with the whole organic theme going on. Nonetheless, you were happy with your decision of establishing one in Gangnam.
The bell dings again, and as you turn on your heel to check the much-anticipated owner of Canapé, you nearly drop the pricey bottle of red wine in your hands. It’s Mr. man-who-shall-no-longer-be-named. You’re stood there shell-shocked, mouth agape at the man in front of you.
He hasn’t changed one bit, well, except for the more handsome features. He’s changed his hairstyle too, now opting for an exposed forehead instead of those bangs he’d impulsively cut by his own in the middle of the night. His shoulders remain the same, miraculously; just an inch wider and he could’ve been a great replacement for a meter stick at Encore, the clothing store that offered bespoke clothing just down the road.
“_________?”
Seokjin starts to speak, yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to do the same. There’s too much you wanted to say, ask , and rant about that your mouth remains hanging open awkwardly – almost as if you’re squawking. You bow in embarrassment, apologizing for your behavior and run back to your restaurant.
The Gourmet Chefs Association of East Asia was holding its annual even today at The Andaz Seoul and you just had this gut feeling Seokjin was going to be there. With yesterday’s discovery that your neighboring, rivaling, restaurant was owned by none other than Kim Seokjin himself, you already had an inkling he was invited to GCAEA’s event tonight.
Your suspicions had been confirmed as one of the event’s producers sent you an email earlier this morning, that which contains the list of nominees for the title of GCAEA’s Chef of the Year – the same title that was bestowed upon you just last year. Seokjin was the first nominee for this year’s awarding ceremony.
Kudos to him. Despite knowing that your hatred for him was fueled by more personal reasons, you knew deep down inside the recesses of your brain that he was a really, really talented chef. Probably just as good as you – of course, you can easily admit that you’re still lacking in plenty but you don’t think your pride will allow you to accept defeat from Seokjin just like that after all he’d done.
You only had the chance to look at Seokjin for a good seven seconds yesterday, but it had taken you at least seven hours, a tub of ice cream, and a Captain America movie marathon to reassure yourself that having seen him so close yesterday wasn’t just an actual nightmare.
As much as you hated to admit it, he remained just as handsome as he was three years ago. What you couldn’t get over with though, was how he actually smiled at you yesterday. That little fucker had to audacity to show his perfect little pearly whites at you! All over again, you’re reminded of how he left you in his room the morning after, or how much of a fucking fool you were for having believed that the two of you could’ve been something more than friends.
Rearranging your dress for the nth time today, you take another look at the mirror, twisting and turning to see if there might be some thread hanging off the hems of the dress. You’re starting to question your decided outfit for the night. You had a dress done just for this event – or more specifically, what sort of dress Jinhee had ordered to be sewn just for this event.
It hugged your curves perfectly – the dress a perfect merger between modest and seductive. It had a nude-illusion base with silver sequins sewn onto the thin fabric and a low-cut neckline that gives everyone a lovely view of your cleavage.
This one could easily pass as an evening gown for a Miss Universe candidate. You felt confident, beautiful, and sexy but at the same time you felt like you wanted to just huddle yourself up in your duvet in the corner of your room and eat ice cream. You weren’t uncomfortable with showing skin from time to time, but having been clad in a double-breasted jacket on a daily means it felt strange having your neckline displayed in public.
Your phone dings, indicating a text message. Yoongi had offered to be your chauffeur for this evening, of course, after being coerced and bribed by Jinhee into doing it.
[yoongles 🍷 ] 6:43pm
hurry up, or i’ll leave you behind
[you] 6:43pm
yoongs
It’s MY car WE’RE using
you don’t even have my keys yet
[yoongles 🍷 ] 6:45pm
u get the idea, woman
dont keep me waiting
“Well maybe if you won’t stop texting, I’ll be quicker,” you grumble to your phone, placing it inside your purse so Yoongi won’t bother you any longer. Doing one last twirl in the mirror, you grab your necessities you’ve gathered on your bedside table and sweep them into your purse.
“You clean up nicely, boss.”
Squinting your eyes at Yoongi with his words, you send him a grateful smile nonetheless. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.” This was the closes thing to an actual compliment that you were ever going to receive from Yoongi in your entire lifetime, so you were sure to keep his words close to your heart.
Taking your car keys from your purse, you toss them to Yoongi who catches them deftly with one hand. “Ooh, you looked cool when you did that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You gave me a compliment, so I’m going to give you one in return. As a token of gratitude.”
“Remind me never to say anything to you ever again.”
“Hey! You talk back like that to the woman who’s giving you money for your daily needs?! And you won’t even open the door for me?” you ask your past neighbor-turned-sommelier-turned-close-friend. “It’s called a salary, Ms. _______. And I receive that as compensation because I give you my services in exchange for it. Plus, I’m already seated here,” Yoongi shrugs, adjusting the rear view mirror.
Rolling your eyes, you begrudgingly open the door to your backseat, exerting much effort in swinging one leg after the other with your incredibly tight evening gown. And, of course making sure the short train won’t get caught between the car doors.
Yoongi checks if you’re all good through the rear-view mirror and once he sees you buckle up, he lets the engine roar to life. You take out your phone from your purse to see if you’ve received any other emails, only for the phone to get flung from your hands – including you.
The car surges forward all of a sudden and Yoongi steps on the breaks just in time. You hear Yoongi curse under his breath, looking over his shoulder to check if you’re okay. “Shit! I forgot you drove a Maserati!”
“I think the more appropriate thing to do is to ask me if I’m still okay…Also, it doesn’t matter what kind of car I drive, because I think you forgot how to actually drive at all.” You complain, adjusting the seatbelt across your chest, the sudden jolt leaving a diagonal red mark just by your collarbone.
“Well, you aren’t dead, so technically speaking, you’re okay.” Unbelievable. You let out a loud scoff, unable to think of anything wittier to say. “Just please get me there in one piece, Yoongs.”
You manage to get to the hotel in one piece. Thank heavens.
The small talk you made with Yoongi on your way to the hotel had temporarily taken your mind off the jitters but now that he’s left you standing by the entrance of the hotel, the nerves had definitely returned, tenfold. You’re also unfortunately dropped off at a spot where a standee of yours holding the Gourmet Chef of the Year award is staring back at you. God, you hated that photo. They did not give your eyebrows justice, at all.
You exhale all your nervousness away as you take the steps to the lobby. “_______!” Someone calls out, the voice too familiar to miss out on. “Sunbae!” You turn around to see one of the most revered chefs in Korea, and definitely one of your favorite mentors, Choi Jiyoung. The woman nearing her fifties extends her arms out in greeting and you give her a tight hug. You had worked under her supervision in the past, and she had taught you almost everything you knew about Korean cuisine.
“Ah, it’s been too long darling! Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman!” Misun praises as her grip on you tightens and pulls you by the elbow, “Surely, there’s a lucky man that has swept my sweet _______ by now!” Your senior adds, punctuating her sentence with a wink at the end.
“I’ve been pretty busy these days… and dating hasn’t really crossed my mind recently.”
‘That’s because the last man I’ve wanted to date was three years ago and he’d just considered me a one-night stand and now after I’ve struggled to burn his existence from my memory and to be very frank with you, I really haven’t gotten over him and now he just so happens to be the owner of the restaurant beside mine. Also, he’s stealing my customers.’ Comes your real answer inside your head, but you’ll never tell anyone that.
Jiyoung pouts at your answer, but taps your forearm, “We’ll talk more about that inside. Come on darling, the event is starting.”
Seokjin sees you finally enter the lobby, eyes scanning the few people scattered around the area as you look for a familiar face you could approach. All eyes are on you, yet you don’t notice, like always. You don’t realize how beautiful you are, blushing furiously under the simplest compliments. You’ve got this certain charm that certainly draws people towards you, all the more when they get to know you better, just like what you did to him.
Seokjin remembers the first time he’d actually seen you – on the television. He’d been scrolling aimlessly through the channels, trying to look for something to watch as he waits for the water to boil for his ramen. He’d accidentally stopped by Channel K99’s ‘Choi Jiyoung Kitchen Specials’ reruns during midnight when he checked his phone after it dinged, alerting him of a notification on his email: just another alert to renew his ‘KOREA’ magazine subscription, where he’d secretly get new recipes, try them out, add a little twist, and serve them to his customers at his parent’s restaurant.
As he was about to press the off button on the remote, you enter the frame as the camera pans out when Choi Jiyoung introduces you as her new assistant and protégé. For some reason, this show just got all the more interesting for Seokjin, who’s clearly drawn to you and not the scrumptious seafood platter that Chef Choi was preparing.
He’d followed you on all his social media accounts after that night, even going as far as turning on his notifications for each post you made. He was unsure what had drawn him to you in the first place – whether it be the fact that you were probably the first female chef he’d seen in Korea that was just about his age (that or he really just didn’t pay any attention to women in the same field during the early years of his career), or that you were unbelievably skilled at such a young age with apparently, a lot of culinary awards and certificates under your belt.
Funny enough, Seokjin wasn’t really one to delve into the world of pastry but judging from your most recent Instagram posts during those days, you had taken interest in patisserie, which only caused Seokjin to attempt baking his own first croissant. He finally understood your enthusiastic devotion for it ever since. Then came Les Coulisses Du Chef, where Rafa, an exchange-student-turned-friend of his from his culinary school days had secured him a slot for a semester at the prestigious school of gastronomy in Paris to get a certificate on French pastry.
He wasn’t expecting you though, out of all people, to join the official list of the class as well, last minute.
It took him three weeks before he finally spoke to you, much to Rafa’s exasperation. Seokjin would keep nagging the French man, telling him how much he wanted to talk to you, yet he can’t seem to grow some balls to do so. In annoyance, he’d told Seokjin that the best way to break the ice was to tell a joke – this time, much to Seokjin’s chagrin. He’d never thought secondhand embarrassment was a thing until Seokjin actually heeded his advice and told you about the ‘impasta’. Surprisingly enough, it worked, so voila!
If only you knew how nervous Seokjin was during that time, clammy hands and all. In fact – if only you knew how jittery Seokjin was whenever he was near you. He’s pretty sure he’d ruined his credibility and career after busting out that lame ass joke Rafa had told him, but it turned out to be the only way he actually got closer to you so he was partly grateful for Rafa’s advice – reputation be damned.
Just like tonight, the moment his eyes fall on you, he feels like he’s being drawn back to his room, eyes trained on you as you diligently followed each of Chef’s Choi’s directions, or that time he’d first spoke to you back in your French patisserie class. He diverts his gaze elsewhere from the fear that you might catch him staring.
“Hey, man. Isn’t that ________? The girl you’ve been crushing on since forever?” Minjae asks, elbowing Seokjin at the waist. The latter grimaces slightly in pain, before reluctantly letting his gaze settle on you once more.
Jungkook returns from the bathroom, joining the duo by the reception. “Wow, who’s that?” the younger man asks, nodding towards your direction. With Jungkook being a fairly new member of the association, curiosity is getting the best of him with all the faces he’s seeing.
Similar to a little kid at a toy shop, he’s constantly asking his hyungs if the people he was seeing were the actual people he’d seen on the internet or on the television. Minjae, who indulges every question of the maknae of their small circle of friends with great enthusiasm, answers Jungkook. “That’s _______, Kook.”
“No way! That’s her?! As in the _________?” The only female chef in Korea who received her first Michelin star in her twenties?! As in ________ Choi Jiyoung’s protégé?!”
“Yes, Kook, that’s her alright. And also the same ________ who will hear you soon enough and will find you weird if you don’t keep your voice down.”
“She’s also the same recipient of the award your Seokjin hyung is nominated for this year,” Jiwon adds, wriggling his eyebrows at Seokjin.
“That’s so cool!” Jungkook exclaims as their whole group watches you approach the infamous Choi Jiyoung. “Hyung, do you think she’s single?” Jungkook asks to nobody in particular, considering they were all his hyungs. Minjae and Jiwon glance at Seokjin who returns their glances with a light glare.
“Why don’t you go find out after the party then?” Seokjin suggests, ignoring that certain pang of jealousy that blossoms in his chest at his own proposal.
“Tell me you’re kidding, hyung.”
“Huh?”
“Come on! That’s your girl! You’re going to let go of her just like that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kook.”
“Hyung. I may be the maknae, but I am neither blind nor dumb. Anyone with two eyes and a functioning brain will know you have the hots for her.” Minjae and Jiwon snicker at the younger one’s comment. Seokjin, albeit being second to the youngest, gives them a glare the makes them cower behind Jungkook.
“Am I really that obvious?”
“Well no. But every time we go out, the only notifications that pop up in your screen are her posts on Instagram. Don’t you think that’s a tad bit…pathetic, hyung?”
Ooh and aahs come from the two other men, who are reveling at the harsh bluntness of Jungkook’s words. It’s the maknae who receives Seokjin’s side-eye next. “Need I remind you who’s the older one here?”
“The point exactly! We’re not getting any younger, hyung. Better ask her out now…before I beat you to it.” Seokjin’s mouth falls open in astonishment, while Jungkook just smiles at him in return. “Come on hyung, they’re calling us inside.”
“Well, well, would you look at that stunner over there?” She comments, nodding her head towards someone over your shoulder. There he was, the infamous Kim Seokjin, clad in an all-black ensemble, a single silver chain necklace hanging on his neck. His hair is swept to the side, revealing a bit of his forehead.
“Oh boy.” Jung Chungae fans herself as your greatest rival turns sideways, showing off his side-profile while animatedly telling a story to a fellow colleague seated with them. “Oh how I wish we could just go back to our golden years for just one night!” The rest of the table laughs at Chungae’s comment.
“I personally think you and that man would make a great couple.” Jiyoung says, leaning towards you.
“The other man sat on his right doesn’t seem to think that way though,” Chungae says, picking on her dessert, whispering ‘cute guy from same table’ discreetly. As if on cue, the rest of the ladies, you included, turn your heads towards Seokjin’s table. True to sunbae Chungae’s implications, there was another man beside Seokjin who was staring back at you. You believe Jungkook was his name… nevertheless, you get shy under his stare, averting your eyes back to the presently attractive flower arrangement at the center of your table.
The servers pile inside in pairs, approaching each table to take your dessert plates. You see the host rise from his chair and take the stairs to the stage. He taps the microphone, checking if the audio was working, “To announce this year’s Gourmet Chefs Association of East Asia – Chef of the Year award, may I call on Ms. _________.”
Minjae nudges Seokjin as you stand up from your seat. “Hyung, quit it before other people see you.”
“Come on now, get your ass up and walk her to the stage!”
“She can perfectly walk on her own though?”
“Come on, it’s plus points both for her and the crowd! Give these oldies a show, idiot.”
“N-“
“Hyung, if you won’t do it, I will.” Jungkook says from across the table, eyeing you as you excuse yourself from the other ladies in your table.
Seokjin stares at Jungkook and purses his lips. He discards of the napkin on his lap at once, lightly throwing the piece of cloth on the table. As he stands up, few murmurs of curiosity follow him as he approaches you.
“Ms. ________, may I?” You’re surprised when somebody suddenly appears on your side, offering his arm out for you to hold onto. You hear sunbae Jiyoung quietly cheer you on, nodding her head once to accept Seokjin’s display of manners. The rest of the audience likewise cheers the young man on with a few men whooping and a number of ladies cooing at the sight. Frankly, it wasn’t even that long of a walk until the stage but a part of you was grateful, knowing for yourself that you truly weren’t used to wearing long dresses like these.
As you both reach the stage, with your hand hooked around Seokjin’s elbow, he places another hand atop yours for extra support. The action seems to have the opposite effect. Suddenly all too aware of the proximity between you two, a shiver runs through your spine, secretly hoping the gulp that you make at the sensation goes unnoticed. At the end of the stairs, you give him a curt bow and say your thanks, unable to look him in the eye.
The emcee hands you the microphone and an envelope, containing the name of the awardee. You tap the mic once, then twice. “This is on, right?” The audience laughs in response. “Woops, sorry,” you apologize meekly before starting your half-impromptu, half-practiced speech.
“I’d like to take this opportunity to thank, first and foremost, the board of judges who have bestowed upon me this same award this time last year, and now I have had the greatest honor to announce the awardee later on. I would also like to send my gratitude to all those who have been my mentors here in Korea and overseas – for I have taken your pieces of advice to my heart and they have guided me wonderfully throughout these years, especially sunbae Choi Jiyoung, who has molded me into the woman and chef that I am today. Also, here’s a special mention to Chef Lee for having prepared this wonderful course for us this lovely evening – I absolutely admire how he manages to make Korean staples like Kimchi Jjigae and Pajeon so…flavorful like it’s been made with his entire heart and soul poured into each detail. Wow. Could we have a round of applause for Chef Lee tonight?”
The audience complies quickly with your request while Chef Lee gives you a bow of gratitude by the doors of the event hall.
“Lastly, I would also like to acknowledge the presence of a beloved mentor of mine, back when I took patisserie classes back in Paris – Mr. Frank Boucher, who had, by the way, also prepared his signature Apple Tarte Tatin for our dessert tonight. So without further ado, the Gourmet Chefs Association of East Asia – Chef of the Year award goes to, drumroll please!” Your tongue feels like it got stuck in your throat, but you pull yourself back to reality quick enough so no one else notices.
“Kim Seokjin! Congratulations!”
Seokjin had just barely gotten back to his seat when he hears his name being called. He stands up, beautiful facial features twisted into one of confusion. “You won Chef of the Year bro! Congrats!” Minjae pats Seokjin’s butt briefly before pushing him back towards the stage.
As you hand him the trophy, you give each other a small smile, likewise posing for the cameras. The photographer gestures for you to scoot closer to each other with his hands. It’s getting harder to fake your smile. You wanted nothing more but to go home. Or maybe you could pass by Canapé and take a bottle of wine home for yourself
Thankfully, the awarding the Chef of the Year signals the nearing conclusion of the event, and as soon as you get back to your seat, you send a text to Yoongi, telling him that the event will be over in a couple more minutes.
The event ends quicker than expected, and you find yourself bidding goodbye to everyone else as soon as the emcee officially ends the ceremony. You badly wanted to go home and rest, with only a few hours left for sleep before another work day starts.
You see Yoongi pull up by the entrance after a few more minutes. “How was the party?” You tell him what happened during the event, completely leaving out Seokjin’s appearance and antics. “Let’s just drop you off by your apartment first then I’ll go drive back to the restaurant to grab something.”
“I can go with?”
“It’s fine Yoongs. Besides, we have work in a few hours. You already sleep during work, what more if I keep you awake for an extra couple of minutes tonight?”
Yoongi just shakes his head at you, saying nothing else in reply. He finds you uncharacteristically quiet after a big event like this and wants to ask you about it, but you seem too lost in your thoughts that he doesn’t want to bother you any further. You arrive at his place shortly and as you get down from the car to switch places, you give him a hug and thank him for being your chauffeur. “Oh, and _______? Your French Cabernet Sauvignon is at the third row from the top. And drink at home, please. See you tomorrow.”
Passing through the main entrance of your restaurant, you turn on a few lights by the wine rack to aid your search for the alcoholic beverage. You make a beeline for the wooden structure attached to the wall. Third row from the top… reaching out, you grab on a bottle, reading out its name, ‘Chateau Pichon Longueville 2015 Pauillac’. This will most likely do the trick.
All of a sudden, a knock comes from your door, startling you out of your wits. Quickly, you scurry to the kitchen, looking for something that can protect you in case this person means harm. Your extensive collection of knives is what comes into your mind first, but you wouldn’t want them to be considered murder weapons, in case the worst scenario comes into play.
So you settle for the rolling pin, clutching the cylindrical utensil tightly in your hands. “Who’s there?” you call out, hoping the fear wont seep through your words. “Um, it’s Frank. Frank Boucher. Is that you inside, _______?”
Letting your hands fall to the side, you cautiously near the door, still clutching the rolling pin in your hands. You can’t be too sure nowadays. You sneak a glace through the glass panels to confirm his identity. Breathing a sigh of relief when you see it really was your mentor back in Paris, you set aside the rolling pin and unlock the door.
“_________!”
“Ah, and to what do I owe this pleasure, Chef Boucher?”
“I wanted to talk to you back at the event, but I’m guessing you left early…”
“Um, yes…still a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
“Can I get you anything, perhaps? I- I grabbed a bottle of wine just now… would you like some? Or water maybe?”
“Wine is always a great choice, _______. Also I’m here to tell you something important, but I’ll let you grab two glasses first, for our usage.”
“Of course! Please feel free to sit anywhere you like.”
“Quaint restaurant you have here, ______. This is the same Canapé you told me in your email right?”
“Yep! Would you mind a few crackers and goat’s cheese to go with the wine?”
“That sounds perfect, though you really don’t have to bother yourself with all of that…” You shrug off his comment, reassuring him that it was the least you could do after having taught you so much when you were back in Paris.
You finally get everything ready, one hand holding a plate full of crackers and cheese, while the other holds two wine glasses. As soon as you get seated, Frank takes upon him the honor of opening the bottle, pouring a sufficient amount of the beverage onto your glasses. “I meant to give this to you personally earlier, but I could no longer find you after the party ended.” He hands you a white envelope with your name and Canapé’s address printed at the back.
“You’ve been invited to the Asian Gourmet Conference in the Philippines next week.” You choke on the wine you’re drinking, embarrassingly turning into a coughing mess in front of your mentor. He looks at you expectantly as you open the envelope.
“Wait. This is real?! No way!” Frank laughs at your reaction, excitement evident in your voice as you skim over the words indicated on the paper. “Oh my goodness! This is such a great event! And the opportunities! Please bring the wine home, Chef Boucher! It’s on the house.” The French man laughs harder at your offer, but he doesn’t decline.
“I’m glad you’re this excited, because you’re going with Seokjin.”
Immensely thanking the heavens that you were looking down the whole time while reading the document, else your mentor would’ve seen the instantaneous scowl that graced your face at the mere mention of the-man-who-shall-not-be-named.
You force a smile onto your features before looking back up at Frank. “Kim Seokjin? As in Kim Seokjin who just won GCAEA’s Chef of the Year Award earlier?”
With slumped shoulders, you lean farther backward in your seat. The Asian Gourmet Conference was one of the most anticipated conferences in the whole of Asia. It was an event highly awaited by many in the culinary field, especially one of its main events where they invite gourmet chefs from all parts of the world to compete for the best dish ever and a $200,000 prize.
The contest was another thing though, because two representatives will be vying for each country, so the winning pair will get to come home with $100,000 each. You really wouldn’t have put any thought into who your partner would have been if you were.
Your head fills with dread at the thought of having Seokjin as your partner. It was bad enough that he owns the gourmet restaurant next to yours, and that he’d attended GCAEA which caused more unwanted interactions with him.
“Yes him. From what I’ve heard, people say he’s a rising star, and that his newly established restaurant was getting a lot of good reviews.”
“It’s the restaurant next to mine, chef.”
“Ha! Seems like you’ve finally met your match, darling. Pretty sure that can apply romance-wise as well…”
“Why does everybody keep shipping us?” You wonder, subconsciously vocalizing your thoughts.
“You two look like you have his-…I think… you two would just look great together!”
“Ship? You know what ship means?” You look at him incredulously.
“It’s when you like the idea of two people together right? My daughter says it all time because of these Korean boys with bright hair – actually, when she knew I was going here to attend GCAEA as a guest she kept on nagging me to buy her albums and these sticks…”
“Sticks?”
“Yeah, the lightning ones?”
“Lightning?” You stifle a laugh. “You mean lightsticks, right?”
“Whatever they’re called, _______.” Frank Boucher gives you his infamous glare.
Nearly snorting at the sight of your mentor looking physically and mentally exhausted with trying to keep up with his fangirling daughter, you offer him another bottle because he seems like he needs it more than you do.
Your conversation falls into talking about your current lives and the stresses of running a restaurant, with Frank eventually leading the conversation about the person you’d least likely enjoy talking about. He tells you about your neighboring rival, how he’s done just as well with his own place like what you did with yours. He’s proud that both of his students had established their names in Korea’s gourmet society even at such a young age.
The clocks finally hits ten thirty and Frank takes this as his cue to get going.“Great! Your plane ticket and hotel booking has probably already been sent by my secretary to your email. The convention is only for three days, but the two extra days are on me. Take it as a gift for Canapé’s opening. Go enjoy yourself, _______”
Forcing another bright smile onto your face, you bid your goodbye to your mentor, locking the front door of your restaurant as he leaves. Five days with Seokjin. May the gods have mercy on you.
The four-hour flight to the Philippines had been excruciatingly awkward. To say the least.
You hadn’t talked to each other for the most part. In fact, the only time you had interacted with each other was when you’d waken him up because you had already landed at the airport. The both of you had barely spoken to each other even on your way to the hotel. Occasionally he’d ask you questions that only warranted monosyllabic responses from you.
You’re glad that weariness passed as the only excuse for the lack of interaction. The moment you’d met up at the airport, fatigue had already been evident in both your faces, so your pair had ended up with alternating sleeping schedules during the length of your flight and up to the taxi ride to your hotel.
Only a few words were shared between you when you’ve finally arrived in front of your rooms – something along the lines of ‘good night’ and ‘see you tomorrow’. As you let sleep take over you that night, you pray that everything will go smoothly for the entirety of your stay.
“Lovely afternoon to all of you present here today at this year’s Asian Gourmet Conference!” Excited applause falls amongst the crowd, cheering on different countries, even though they screamed the most for Team Philippines. The host greets the audience and the participants one more time, before proceeding to the guidelines of the event.
“For the first challenge of our main event, we’d like the chefs to cook two staple dishes from their respective home countries – but with a twist! Our chefs will have to use Filipino ingredients only! This is where we put their creativity and talent to the test. To our chefs, please be reminded that we will be giving you an hour to prepare your fusion dishes. While you guys are cooking, I’ll be going around to interview almost fifty chefs who have come from all parts of the world just to join us today.”
You start brainstorming with Seokjin the moment the host leaves the stage. “You’ve been to the Philippines a few times right? You’ve tried some of their food?” your partner asks, turning to you. You’re surprised he even remembered…if you had recalled properly, you had only mentioned it once back in Paris that you did visit the Philippines on occasion.
“Um, yes…I’ve been here a couple of times,” you reply, racking your brain for any Korean dishes that might hold any similarity with Korean staples. “I only remember Sinigang, and Adobe…”
“I’m pretty sure they call it Adobo here Seokjin,” you make no attempt to suppress the giggle the escapes your lips as he mistakes computer software for food.
“But the challenge is only to make our home country’s staples with Philippine ingredients… so this shouldn’t be that big of a fusion problem since rice is also considered a vital part of their meals here…”
“You think good ‘ole Bibimbap will do? Pretty much all the ingredients are available here…What else could we have?” Seokjin asks, taking a notepad and a pen from his jacket. “We can have tteokbokki for the appetizer and bingsu for dessert.”
You get to cooking right after you and Seokjin agree on the ingredients you were going to use. Maybe working with Seokjin wasn’t so bad after all. Not even fifteen minutes into the competition, you see a few girls cheer Seokjin on, ceaselessly calling your partner “Seokjin oppa!” They screams only seem to spur Seokjin on, who’s now showing off his knife skills. You roll your eyes as you shake your head, crushing the garlic a little too hard against the board.
“Jealous much?” your partner asks. You can feel Seokjin smirking beside you.
“You wish, Kim Seokjin.”
“Whatever floats your boat, ________,” he sighs, “If only my partner could also send me words of encouragement rather than staying silent the whole time,” he mumbles to himself, thinking it wasn’t loud enough for you to hear.
“You and I both know this mouth is better at something else.” You turn to him, giving Seokjin a playful wink before setting the ingredients to the bibimbap on one side. He nearly drops the knife he’s holding at your comment, obviously scandalized by your innuendo.
Even with the time racing against you, everything was still going as planned, you just needed to hurry with the final parts of the dishes and you’d be able to beat the buzzer which was bound to ring in less than twenty minutes. That is until the salt container placed on top of this tall arrangement of pots topples over the shaved ice you’ve prepared for the bingsu. You see the ice melt before your eyes, and you quickly move to the container, removing some of the ice that was turning into water.
“Shit! Sorry ________!” He drops the pans he held in his arms onto the sink, scampering to your side afterwards. “Can I help –“
“No! I…It’s fine, Seokjin, just…just go back to whatever you were doing earlier. And please be careful next time.” Seokjin nods curtly, before going back to clean the pans. “______, why does it smell like something’s burning?”
“Fuck!” Cursing under your breath, you hurry towards the pot where the rice was cooking. As you remove the cover, the smell of burnt rice and a failed dish wafts through your nose, causing you to take a deep breath as you attempt to calm yourself down.
Reluctantly, you scoop out the rice that wasn’t burnt and place it onto the stone pot and start plating your bibimbap. Seokjin likewise helps you finish plating the tteokbokki and bingsu in silence.
Needless to say, your burnt rice didn’t make it through the first round. It didn’t mean that you were disqualified from the competition though, but in order to win the cash prize, you will have to make it through all three challenges of the event. That same evening as you take the cab back to the hotel, the despondence in the air is thicker than ever.
“See you tomorrow, ______.” Seokjin says, giving you a small smile as he stops in front of his door.
“Right. See you tomorrow, Seokjin. Sleep well.”
It’s ironic how it was you who actually needed that phrase and not Seokjin. You’ve watched the clock tick away, turned on the television for something to watch on the local news channels which were thankfully spoken in English, you had also resorted to Netflix on your phone, but all to no avail.
Admittedly, you had finished an Iced Americano in fifteen minutes earlier this morning but you figure it’s the entire ‘burnt rice’ accident that’s keeping you awake at this hour. Heaving a deep sigh, you lift the covers off your body, put on a hoodie and headed outside.
You pause by Seokjin’s door momentarily, with the strong urge to knock on his door and apologize for your lack of professionalism earlier this afternoon. Seokjin didn’t really mean to pour the salt over the ice at the event, and the way you reacted was unnecessarily rude.
Seokjin was probably asleep though, and you didn’t want to further embarrass yourself by waking him in the middle of the night. Retracting your hand that was merely inches away from his door, you turn on your heel and decide to apologize to him first thing in the morning tomorrow. Maybe even get him an extra something to show the depth of your regret and guilt.
After having asked the receptionist for directions towards the nearest convenience store, you’re suddenly regretting having worn shorts on your way out – the exposed skin of your legs prickling as the chilly evening air bites at it. Spotting 7-Eleven just across the street, you walk quickly towards the convenience store, desperate to feel warmth in this cold night.
The mellifluous sound of the bell echoes throughout the small store as you enter, that particular smell of convenience stores wafting through your senses. You decide to explore the shop a little, trying to look for something to eat.
Quite ironically, you’ve cooked nearly a thousand dishes in your lifetime, and having to cook another shouldn’t be that much of a burden but when your mind is swirling with thoughts just like tonight, you can’t seem to bring yourself to cook even the simplest dish – like it’s too great of a task to burden yourself with.
So during times like this, you turn to instant noodles, the ultimate lifesaver since your culinary school days. Hopefully no one from GCAEA or the AGC finds you like this, a dignified gourmet chef who’s starting to establish her name in the culinary field, crawling convenience stores in the middle of the night and slurping instant noodles away like it’s her last day on Earth.
You finally get to the noodles section, where you see a man in a hoodie, likewise skimming through the same aisle as you. The receptionist had told you to be wary of sketchy-looking people especially during the wee hours of the morning so you hurry with your own search as you look for a certain brand of cup noodles. Shin Ramyeon.
It should be here somewhere… As far as you’re concerned as a consumer, it’s being exported to over a hundred countries now so it must be here. Going over the entire aisle one last time, you finally see the red cup, reaching over the lone cup of Shin Ramyeon left on the shelf. The problem was, you weren’t the only one who was reaching for it.
Why do those fingers look insanely familiar?
Your eyes widen gradually as you slowly trail them up to see the owner of those hands. Of course, who else could it have been? You call out each other’s name at the same time.
“Seokjin.” “________.”
“You can have it.” You spoke in unison again.
“It’s fine really, you can have it. I’ll just look for another brand,” you tell him, handing over the cup with perfectly controlled reluctance.
“Would you mind if we shared, perhaps?” You stare at him, completely taken aback by his offer. “Or not…I mean- forget I even said that… Here take it.” He hands the cup to you and starts to leave.
“Jin! I- I don’t mind sharing.” Biting on his lip, he attempts to hide the smile that slowly etches into his face as he hears the nickname only you have for him. He turns to face you again. “Okay.” Seokjin gives you a smile, grabs the cup noodles from your grasp and orders you to look for seats while he pays for your shared midnight snack.
Slowly, you trudge towards the limited number of seats they offer at the convenience store and find a spot by the windows. Seokjin arrives at your table a couple of minutes afterwards.
It was now or never. You owed Seokjin an apology after having rudely declined his offer of help during the event, even when the whole fiasco was just an accident. You figure if you don’t apologize for your unjust behavior, guilt is most likely going to eat at you for a very, very long time. Seokjin’s dejected yet still beautiful face will haunt you in your dreams.
As Seokjin busies himself with adding the ingredients onto the paper cup, you take this opportunity to speak up. “Jin,” you start, the nickname sending Seokjin’s heart into another frenzy. “About the bibimbap earlier, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, ________. It was my fault anyway. I should be the one apologizing right now, but…hold that thought for a moment…” He looks away, letting out a sneeze. “….it’s the powder seasoning, sorry… As I was saying, I’d also like to apologize about what happened earlier, I mean if I didn’t try to carry so much, the salt wouldn’t have toppled over.”
“Hey! I should be the one apologizing right now! Stop stealing my thunder!” You pout, begrudgingly taking the small carton of milk Seokjin bought to go with the ramen. You can’t say you aren’t pleasantly surprised at how he remembers this habit of yours too. For some reason, he remembers how you always have milk ready whenever you eat something spicy.
“Anyways… I also wanted to apologize for my rude behavior towards you back at the event. It was an accident, yet I reacted badly and declined your assistance. It was only after the event that I realized that we’re supposed to be helping each other, and not treating each other poorly.”
“Don’t worry yourself too much about it, ______. Besides, we still have two days to redeem ourselves right?” Seokjin sends a warm smile your way, one you cannot help but return.
“What else are you waiting for? The ramen is getting cold and lonely.”
“You sure you aren’t talking about yourself?”
“You know, I’m thinking maybe you should get your own instant noodles,” Seokjin comments, fingers curling around the paper cup.
“Okay, okay, geez.” Throwing your hands up in defense, you thank him for paying for the noodles and the milk before pulling your chopsticks apart and digging in. As you take your first bite, Seokjin suddenly speaks up.
“Is it just me, or I am really very anxious right now…what if someone might see us?”
“Last time I checked, there’s nothing wrong with eating inside a convenience store.”
“No, no. But we’re like… owners…of restaurants…that serve gourmet food…yet here we are, at half past twelve in the morning, sharing cup noodles like it’s the last meal in the world due to a zombie apocalypse.”
“I get how you feel, but I don’t think we’d agree on the zombie apocalypse part…”
The conversation flows naturally between the both of you, like two friends casually catching up with each other’s lives. Seokjin was in the middle of talking when you hear the pitter-patter of rain outside. Tiny droplets of water slide down the glass panels, slowly turning into heavier ones.
You look at each other. “Should we?”
“We can wait this out if you’d like…” Seokjin proposes, though he isn’t so sure he wants to go with his offer either. The sudden downpour doesn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. “Forget what I said, we should leave before this gets worse. Wait here.” Seokjin stands up, goes through each aisle of the convenience store, and returns to where you’re seated. “Damn, they just ran out of umbrellas.”
“We could just run back the hotel…it’s just one crosswalk away.”
“You sure about that? What if you get sick?”
“Let’s just hope we won’t then.” Seokjin gives you a nod in approval. “Before we go out though,” he pulls his hoodie off his torso, giving you a slight show of his abdominals as he raises his hands. You abruptly look away, before nasty thoughts overcome you.
Placing his hoodie over both your heads, Seokjin peers down at you. “Ready when you are.” The quick sprint back to the hotel has you both screaming and laughing at the same time. You weren’t surprised that Seokjin’s hoodie barely served its purpose. You were both drenched from the neck down, attracting unwanted attention from people with your appearance.
With less than a few more steps before you reach your hotel rooms, you feel trepidation bubbling in the pit of your stomach. What’s going to happen now? Were you supposed to forget what happened between the two of you three years ago just like that? Was your midnight ramen run officially a clean slate?
Seokjin has his back facing you, the thin, white material of his shirt clinging sinfully to his skin. Every second spent with Seokjin was the best form of punishment in both ways “Are you going to sleep?” You don’t think that was going to happen anytime soon, now that you’re once again blessed with his visuals and perfectly sculpted body.
Seokjin turns to face you, waiting for your response. You shake your head no, eyes unabashedly staring at the outline of his six-pack. The man lets out a cough, drawing you out of your reverie. “Wanna keep warm for a bit and talk over hot chocolate?”
Why do you get the feeling it’s not just hot chocolate that’s going to keep you warm tonight?
“Sure.” Your voice comes out small, swallowing loudly as he unlocks the door to his room.
The tension in the air is so thick that you’re actually having difficulty trying to breathe normally. Seokjin sets his wet hoodie on the floor before meeting your eyes, pupils already dilated. He momentarily holds his stare, eyes raking all over your equally drenched body. He points a finger sideways, “Hot chocolate.” Subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, you nod, unable to form any coherent words in your head.
As he heads towards the kitchenette, you rub your face with your hands, before placing a hand over your chest. “Calm down, girl. It’s not like you’ve never seen abs before.” This is like Paris all over again, and you weigh the possible outcome of this situation. If you’re reading the signs right, Seokjin is clearly just affected as you are. Are you really willing to wear your heart out on your sleeve like this one more time? You rack your brain for answers, yet all it does is betray you with images of the rippling muscles underneath Seokjin’s shirt.
Ah, fuck it.
“Jin?” you call out as you reach the wall separating the kitchenette. Just as you peek through the divider, Seokjin rakes a hand through his temple, his hair now pushed back and forehead visible. You practically hear your resolve shattering into pieces.
Taking initiative, you close the distance between the both of you, connecting your lips with his in a feverish kiss. He tastes spicy – just like the ramen you’ve shared just minutes ago, but god, your favorite ramen and Seokjin’s lips; if that ain’t the hottest combination in the world – both literally, and figuratively.
You kiss Seokjin fervently like you’re going to crumble if his lips aren’t connected with yours. One hand of his raises to get rid of the scrunchie holding your hair up in a ponytail, and he lets his fingers card through your wet hair gently. The intensity of his kiss practically devours you, his hands grabbing hastily at your clothes. He’s itching to take them off your body, yet you feel the hesitation in his actions, waiting for that sign from you before he can do so as he pleases.
Pulling away to take a breather, you tug your hoodie up and off you, with Seokjin helping you with the task. "You don’t know how much I’ve longed for this, fuck." He seizes your mouth with his once more like a man starved.
Seokjin groans as he finally gets a view of the amount of lace you’re wearing underneath your hoodie. “I’d love to have you in your lingerie another time, but for now, let’s get you naked for me, hmm?” You’re barely allowed a second to fully comprehend his statement about lingerie and another time before Seokjin discards of the red lacy bra you have on and attaching his lips to one of your nipples.
Gasping at the sensation, you arch your back so that you’re practically pressing your chest against his face, greedily asking for more. Hooking a finger inside the waistband of your gym shorts, Seokjin easily tugs your shorts down along with your underwear.
He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up to the counter for his convenience. You shiver slightly when your ass comes in contact with the coldness of the marble. As if on instinct, your legs spread wider, seemingly inviting him to come closer to you.
“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?”
“Mhmmm,” your words are muffled as you ardently kiss him. Seokjin brings his lips back to your breasts, biting and pulling at one while the other gets kneaded under his palm. Equally just as impatient as you are, Seokjin lets a hand trail in between your bodies, tentatively brushing against your core to gauge your reaction.
Your body quakes in anticipation, and Seokjin teases you even further by slowly rubbing the pad of his finger on your clit. “Jin, please,” you beseech. “Gotta prepare you first, baby girl.” Letting your head fall back at the sensation (and the pet name!), Seokjin decides to give you what you want, seeing as though you were wet enough that taking his cock right now won’t be a problem. He finally slides a finger inside, your body trembling at the intrusion. God, it’s been too long.
Okay, honestly speaking, you really didn’t take interest in another man when Seokjin entered your life three years ago, and now that you’re back here in this compromising situation with his finger sliding in and out of you languidly, you feel like you could just cum at the thought of it alone.
Seokjin adds another finger, continuing the pace. You moan wantonly as Seokjin curls his fingers, your velvety walls clenching around his digits. He can tell you’re getting close, but he knew it wasn’t enough.
Without having to slide his fingers out of you, Seokjin grabs at one of the chairs and pulls it towards himself so he can sit.
He hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer, merely centimeters away from your cunt. Your cheeks are set ablaze at his brazen action, opening your mouth to say something, falling speechless yet again as Seokjin’s lips come in contact with your nether lips. The man licks a bold stripe along the length of your folds, your hands instantly finding purchase on his hair as you’ve got nothing else to hold on to. He repeats the action all over again, this time adding his fingers to slide in and out of you and toy with your clit. A few more licks and a particular curl of his digits, Seokjin makes you cum for the first time again in three years, so hard that you’re body’s trembling even after he sets your legs down
You’re breathing heavily, resting your forehead on Seokjin’s temple. “Mind taking a shower with me? It’s important to bathe after running the rain” Seokjin looks up at you, eyes pleading.
“I would, if I’m still able to walk.”
“Who said you were going to walk?” Seokjin maneuvers you on top of the counter, placing his hands under your knees and on your back, carrying you bridal style towards the bath. As soon as he settles you down onto the tub, he turns the faucet on and leaves you there for a moment, telling you that he was just going to grab something from his luggage.
You rest your head against the edge of the tub as you wait for Seokjin. You slowly feel exhaustion taking over you, but when you hear Seokjin’s muted footsteps against the carpeted floor, your eyes pry open only to see Seokjin in his boxers, holding a bath bomb in his palm. You gulp. This was going to be one hell of a night.
Just like before, Seokjin has you cumming thrice in the bath, once when he took you from underneath, making sure that the water fell perfectly on your clit for added stimulation as he slid his length in and out of you. He’d made you cum when you rode him as well, water sloshing everywhere at your naughty shenanigans in the bath. Even after two orgasms, Seokjin just won’t quit, having bent you over as you faced the wall, pounding you from behind.
Seokjin, with his libido seemingly running 24/7 tells you he wasn’t done with you just yet, saying he’s still got three years worth more of fucking to give you. He wanted to give you the most unforgettable sex of your life, and boy, was he adamant about it.
Seemingly not having had enough of you yet after helping you scrub almost the whole expanse of your skin, he finds himself getting hard again at the sight of you in just his shirt and nothing else. You meant to sleep by that time, but as soon as Seokjin spooned you, you’d felt his clothed erection already grinding against your ass. You no longer kept count of how many times he made you cum.
The sunlight peeks through a tiny slit through the curtains, the heat perfectly hitting your face, causing you to wake up. Your body is sore all over, and as you roll to the other side while stretching out your limbs, you spot next to you empty.
Of course. You’re a fucking dumbass.
Hastily grabbing your clothes strewn across the floor, you head out of his room, tears already brimming in your eyes. Your vision is getting blurry by the second, and you angrily swipe at your cheeks as you feel a singular tear roll down. As you curse Seokjin under your breath, you bump into none other than the devil himself. “Oh! You’re awake?”
You don’t answer, stepping aside so you could go back to your room and rethink your life decisions.
“Where are you going, _______?”
“Out of your room, and hopefully out of your life as well.”
“Wait - ______! What are you talking about?” Seokjin extends his hand to grab your arm.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Seokjin.” The venom laced with your words makes him reel, retracting the arm he had held out to reach you. “I really never meant anything to you, hm? Fuck, I have probably reached desperation to return back into your arms that easily.”
“Desperation? That’s all it was last night? And the one three years ago?”
“I should be the one asking you that question!”
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’? Are you really that fucking dense, Seokjin? You were the one who left me alone in the room that morning, and now you’ve done it again. Congratulations on having a new notch on your belt. And I’m a fucking fool for even thinking you felt otherwise!”
“You think I left you that morning?”
“I’m not done yet—what did you say?”
“You were the one who left that morning!”
“I did not! When I woke up, you weren’t there, nor were you anywhere inside your entire apartment! Do you know how embarrassing that was!” You pause, lips trembling, “F-For someone who actually meant something to you only seeing you as just some one-night stand?! Someone who you could use to get your dick wet?!”
“You like m-“
“You’re missing the entire point here, Kim Seokjin!”
“What’s happening here?” A raspy voice asks, the familiar mop of curly hair coming into view. Rafa?
“Oh my god! You like me, fuck! I could just kiss you right now!” Seokjin doesn’t even hesistate, already leaning towards your face and connecting your lips. You almost melt into his arms at the sensation, but you pull away just as instantly, tears freely rolling down. “Am I really just a joke to you, Jin? Have you ever even taken into consideration my feelings, even once?”
“______, darling. This is all a misunderstanding. Well, I did leave that morning, but I just went out to Rafa next door to shower. I—you looked so peaceful as you slept that I really didn’t want to bother waking you up to tell you that I can’t shower with cold water and it’s like déjà vu all of a sudden and…wait!” Seokjin drags poor Rafael who’s still looks like he’s half-asleep. “Rafa can verify the truth!”
Rafael sighs, once again caught in the middle of something he no longer wants to be a part of. “It’s true, ______. This guy’s pretty much in love with you. It’s just an unfortunate fact that this same guy has plenty of annoying habits that gets him in trouble most times. Just like not being able handle water that is below 26 degrees Celsius.”
You’re looking back and forth Seokjin and Rafa, trying to study their features if they’re being questionable or not. Finding no trace of mirth in their eyes, you turn to Seokjin. “You really didn’t leave me that morning and… today?”
“No. I could never. I’m a fucking dumbass for not thinking about what you could’ve felt that time and today…or telling you that I was just heading out to Rafa’s to shower because for some reason my heater isn’t always functioning…”
“Glad to know you’ve finally acknowledged that you’re a bloody idiot.” Rafa speaks up, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin, taking a sip from his mug. Since when was that in his hands? Rafa sees you stare at his mug, and answers your silent question, “Was planning to drink this while it was hot earlier but I don’t see anything wrong with drinking cold coffee while watching a live action soap opera.”
“Funny how a night of fucking like wild rabbits can do so much to people,” Rafa adds, scoffing as he retreats back to his room. You lean your head towards Seokjin’s chest, embarrassed out of your wits. Seokjin puts an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. “Don’t mind Rafa. He’s just jealous.”
“I can perfectly hear you, Kim Seokjin!”
© hhyungz 2020. All rights reserved.
#bts smut#bangtanhq#ficswithluv#btsgoldnet#btswritingcafe#btsguild#hyunglinenetwork#ksmutclub#bts fluff#bts angst#kim seokjin#bts jin#jin smut
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Crystal Ball
Square Filled: Bookstore AU for @spnfluffbingo; College AU for @spngenrebingo; Sam for @spnchristmasbingo
Characters: Sam x Reader; Pamela mentioned
Rating: Explicit
Tags: oral (male receiving)
Summary: The reader sees an unexpected and wonderful glimpse of her future.
Word Count: 2220
Knowledge is yours if you seek it. That’s what the sign by the front door said. The only thing Y/ cared about seeking right now was some time alone with Sam, some quality time. It would be two more hours until that could happen because the bookstore didn’t close until eleven. Y/N would have to content herself with stealing glances at Sam between customers for now.
He was comfortably settled in his favorite spot to study in one of the reading areas her Aunt Pamela had created to keep the atmosphere of the store “cozy yet mystical”. Pamela had worked for years as a psychic to save the money to buy this place and turn it into something that matched the vision in her head. She had a reading room in the back where she saw clients three days a week by appointment only; the years of hard work had paid off, allowing her to have a much lighter schedule now. Business was good for Crystal Ball Books, allowing Pamela to spend the fruits of her labor in the Caribbean this holiday season. That meant there was no chance of her making a surprise appearance in the bookstore tonight, which was exactly what Y/N wanted because she had plans after all these people were gone. They were sexy, seductive, get Sam naked plans.
If only all these people would disappear, but the store was filled with students and locals tonight, looking for holiday gifts or just hanging out with a cup of herbal tea or a coffee to escape the stress of finals week. The place was organized into distinct areas based on subject matter, creating a unique atmosphere in each area, and people were in all of them. There was a section devoted to Chakras where all the colors of the rainbow were represented. It was bright and had a lively energy with wind chimes and crystals accenting the space. Another, and one of Y/N’s favorite areas, was the Native American spirituality “room”. It was in a nook near the front entrance. There was always white sage burning there to keep the space cleansed, and the feeling when you walked among those shelves that contained not only books but Native American art and smudging supplies for sale was serene.
Sam was in the Celtic section of the store. It was filled with earthy colors, and statues of Celtic gods and goddesses were scattered throughout the tall shelves along with the books. This was also where the Yule/Christmas tree was located. It was by the light of this tree and the strings of holiday lights adorning the bookshelves that Sam was studying for his American Folklore final.
Y/N was putting some new books on Feng Shui out in the Eastern Traditions corner which gave her a perfect sight line to stop what she was doing and enjoy the view of Sam. He was running his long, thick, graceful fingers through his hair absentmindedly while he concentrated on the book on his lap. She wished it was her fingers in his hair, feeling its silky softness slide through them. He bit his bottom lip and turned the page. Y/N stared at his mouth. She was going to push him down on that sofa and kiss him until she could feel him getting hard against her and…. “Excuse me.” The voice jarred her right out of that glorious vision. “Where are the books on auras?”
It was a long two hours, and being constantly busy didn’t make it pass any faster. When Y/N had finally sent the other two employees home and locked the door behind the last customer, she couldn’t get to Sam fast enough. He was still buried in his books. Y/N took the book he was currently reviewing out of his hand and read the title, “Ghosts of the Midwest”. She tossed it onto the table beside the couch and sat on his lap, straddling him.
“Haven’t you had enough ghosts for tonight?” She laid her palms flat on his chest and leaned down to kiss the side of his neck. Sam put his hands on her waist and held her in place. She felt his body relax, and he moaned signaling his pleasure to her. She kissed her way down his neck until she got to his sweatshirt. “You know you’re going to make an A anyway.”
Sam laughed, and she raised her head to see what was so funny. He pushed her hair out of her face so he could see her better and let his hand rest on the side of her head, holding it with his fingers threaded through her hair. “Those A’s don’t happen automatically, and I can’t let up now if I’m going to get into a good graduate school.”
Sam had a plan for his life. He was going to research the paranormal and teach others about it. That was one of the things that was so attractive about him. He knew what he wanted without letting ambition take him over. She smiled at him and ran her fingertip over his bottom lip that she’d watched him nibble on earlier. “You’re going to be one of those young, sexy professors whose classes fill up every semester with girls and guys who want to stare at you and think all kinds of dirty thoughts.”
Sam slid his hand down her back until he got to her ass and squeezed. “Are you jealous already?” His other hand was still holding her head, and he pulled her mouth down to his. He kissed her deeply, swirling his tongue around hers until she felt his cock start to stiffen beneath her. Then he trailed a line of kisses across her cheek to her ear and whispered, “Don’t worry. I don’t want anybody else in my bed. Don’t want to feel anybody else tight around me, making me come.”
Y/N felt her stomach get all tight and fluttery, and her core started to tingle. He pulled back, and she saw his eyes were dark with desire. “I want to make you come now, Sam.” She pushed his sweatshirt up to get to his belt and started to unbuckle it. When she finished unbuckling and unzipping, Sam lifted his hips and pushed down his jeans and underwear. His cock was semi hard, long, thick, and beautiful. Y/N lowered herself to her knees in front of him and took his cock in her hand, loving the feel and the weight of it as she held it. Then she took it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip before swallowing it down until it touched the back of her throat.
Sam stretched his arms across the top of the sofa and lay his head back against it, letting out a deep satisfied sigh. She bobbed her head on him until he was fisting the back of the sofa and calling out her name. She fondled his balls while she sucked and licked until she felt his hand on the back of her head. “Y/N, wait.” She looked up at him and slipped her mouth from his leaking dick. “I want to come inside you. Make you feel good too.”
He stripped off his sweatshirt and pulled her to him, crashing his mouth on hers in a hungry kiss. “I want you, Y/N. Take your clothes off for me.” She broke the kiss and started a striptease for him. Slowly, she pulled her shirt up and off. Sam’s eyes raked over her breasts and the silky red, holiday perfect, bra she was wearing with a tiny bow in the middle.
He licked his lips while Y/N reached behind her back to undo the clasps. She slipped the straps seductively down her arms, exposing her breasts to him. “Do you want a taste, Sam?” He lowered his head to her chest and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Sam had made her come before just using his mouth and hands on her breasts, and what he was doing to her right now made her think it might happen again. “Oh fuck, Sam. That feels amazing.” She grabbed the back of his head to hold him to her. He continued to lick and tease her hardened nub with his teeth while he eased his hand down into her pants.
He found her clit and began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. The double stimulation had her writhing and begging him for release. “Please, Sam. Make me come. I need it.”
He switched breasts and started to suck on the other one while his fingers rolled and flicked the nipple still wet from the attention his tongue had given it. Meanwhile, his hand in her pants started to move faster, rushing her closer to the climax she wanted. “C’mon, baby. Do it. I want to feel you come on my fingers.” She shuddered as her orgasm pulsated through her, and she coated Sam’s fingers with her juices.
As her high faded, she went soft under Sam’s touch, and he took her in his arms. “Do you know how hot you look when you come for me like that?”
“No, but I’m glad you like it.” She put her head on his shoulder to catch her breath. Her breathing was beginning to even out when she took his earlobe into her mouth. “I want more, Sam. I want to feel you splitting me open, pounding into me.” She bit down on his earlobe in her mouth hard enough to make him feel it in his growing cock. “Make me scream for you, Sam.”
Sam peeled off her remaining clothes and tossed them on the floor; his jeans and underwear followed. His cock was twitching, hard against his stomach in anticipation. Y/N climbed on top of him and lined his thick shaft up with her entrance, sinking down onto it until she was fully impaled and could feel him pushing against her cervix. She started to ride him, and Sam lifted his hips, thrusting them upward in time with her movements.
Without warning, he flipped her onto her back and hooked his arm under her leg, opening her wide to his now harder and deeper thrusts. His pubic bone was hitting her clit, and she was clawing at his back while she clenched around him. “Sam. Oh, God. I’m gonna...I’m gonna come. Sam!” He covered her mouth with his hand, and she screamed into his palm. She came hard, and just when she was coming down from her climax, he emptied inside her. His hot come coated her inside and triggered another orgasm as strong as the one she’d just had.
Sam took his hand from her mouth, lowered her leg, and nuzzled his nose into the side of her neck. He whispered against her skin, “You are completely beautiful.” He kept talking to her as he slipped from her body and rolled onto his back, settling her on top of him. He reached for the throw with the Celtic knot pattern he’d put on the back of the sofa earlier and covered her with it.
Y/N smiled and kissed his chest. “You were planning this, weren’t you?”
Sam was running his fingers through her hair. “A guy can hope.”
Y/N sighed with contentment. “I was hoping for this too.” She kissed his chest again. “I could barely focus on anything watching you and thinking about what we could be doing instead.”
Sam was still playing with her hair; he had gotten quiet. Y/N could sense the change in his mood. She raised her head to look down at him. “Sam, are you okay?”
She saw him swallow hard; his eyes had gotten reflective and sensitive, about as far from the passionate intensity that had been in them just minutes before as they could get. “I’m gonna be in graduate school at Christmas next year. I don’t know where, but...Y/N, will you go with me?”
He was brushing his thumb across her cheek, waiting for her to say something. The wheels in his mind were still turning; she could see them. She was so surprised at his question that her response was, “You want me to come with you, move to wherever you’re going? Are you asking me to live with you?”
His finger stopped moving on her cheek. “Yeah. I want you with me... because I love you.”
Y/N looked into his eyes; the lights from the tree were shining in them. He was serious. “Oh my God, Sam.”
He started to sit up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No.” She put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving any more. “I mean yes. I want to go with you. I want to be with you.” A smile started to spread across Sam’s face. With her next words, his dimples bloomed. “I love you too.”
Y/N kissed Sam again in the quiet of the bookstore; it was the first time she kissed him knowing he loved her and knowing they had a future together. The sign by the door said, Knowledge is yours if you seek it. She believed now the same was true of love.
Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness
Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @i-joined-social-media-finally @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @wendibird @team-free-will-you-idjiot @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @neii3n @supernatural-took-me-over @julesthequirky
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Sacrifices (Kirishima x Reader)
So it’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything, maybe a month or two but I’m trying to get back in my groove. Hopefully this drabble is something for the meantime and I can get back to my posting schedule.
In the meantime, requests are open and this was crossposted to my AO3.
(g/n reader, gender is not specified)
___
“I’m pretty sure it’s gonna rain.”
Your absentminded voice only earned a small hum from the redheaded man next to you. Both your minds were too preoccupied to even focus too much on the world around you, save for the small talk that’d quietly be brought up as you laid in the crook of his neck.
The AC prattling on in the background had always been enough background music for you, but tonight the silence between you was deafening.
“What if you came with me? Tokyo isn’t too far from here, we could come back each weekend to see your family.” Your grimace was enough to make him pause, worriedly looking over at you.
“Eiji, I can’t just pack up and move like this… You know that, my life is here.”
It’d been wonderful news when Eijirou had risen in the ranks, moving on from Fatgum’s sidekick to an official pro-hero.
But Musutafu already had so many heroes already— with Deku already claiming the number one title with Dynamight and Shoto fresh on his trail— Kirishima had no chance of making a name for himself here.
Tokyo was his best choice, at the budding agency Kaminari and Sero were starting up. The agency he’d gotten his first offer as a full fledged hero. He’d be a fool not to at least take that chance and at least give it a shot.
“Things would be better for us there though, I’d make more money and we wouldn’t have to worry about bills. We could even get a better place! You wouldn’t even have to work.” He grinned, already planning on a future in the bustling city. Red eyes already shining from the excitement of all the possibilities. “I’d have to be an idiot not to go.”
Your lips pulled into a line, and reluctantly you nodded. “You would, wouldn’t you? You gotta go to Tokyo, Babe.” His grin only got brighter at that, and your heart clenched at the sight.
“But I can’t go with you.” Before he can say anything, you already shut him up with a stern look. “Tokyo isn’t where my life is, I still have to at least finish this semester before I go anywhere. You know that.” Sitting up on his lap, you forced a smile.
“It’d only be a couple months Eiji, you can make a name for yourself by then. It’ll be over before you know it.” The frown on his face practically screamed how unconvinced he was.
“I don’t really like that idea though… I could just wait here with you, I’m sure the offer’s still gonna be there.” Soft hands cupped his cheeks and he fidgeted slightly.
“Baby, this is what you have to do. If you wanna be the number one hero, you gotta make sacrifices. I’ll just be a little late to the party, okay?” Swallowing down the lump in your throat, your thumb softly stroked his cheek— earning a wobbly smile from him, his own eyes watering before he wrapped you tightly in his arms with a shaky laugh.
“I love you so much Baby! I swear I’m gonna be the number one for you!” Kisses peppered all over your face, already making your chest ache at the thought of him leaving. “I know you will Eiji, I’m so proud of you.”
And yet when the time came for you to come home, there wasn’t sight of you at the train station. Only when he looked at the news did he see the long list of casualties in Musutafu.
Not even the number one had come to your rescue.
Masterlist
#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero x reader#my hero academy#my hero drabbles#mha kirishima x reader#bnha eijiro kirishima#kirishima eijiro x reader#bnha kirishima x reader#my work
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A Year Later - ep. 07 - JJ Maybank
A/N: I wanted to do an epilogue of sorts for The S’week and @d-reamingoutloud suggested looking into their lives a year after the story so that’s what I decided to do. Basically this is kind of where the reader’s relationship with them all is at.
The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
John B. Routledge -
John B’s Hand slipped out of yours, both of you forming a fist to side bump in a variation of the secret pogue handshake that you’d somehow come to adopt as your own in the last year. You were standing on the edge of the jetty, cooler in your other hand.
“You ready to go?” John B asked, taking the cooler from you and setting it down below the seat before he held his hand out for you to climb aboard. It was early enough in the morning that it was still dark outside but the light on the boat cast a glow across the marsh, a rather calming effect on you as you prepared to spend the morning fishing with John B. An odd sort of tradition that had come about last year and had just stuck. A time and place that neither of you had to worry about other obligations or other people’s opinions of your friendship.
“Yeah. New boat?” You asked, taking a look at the boat as you stepped on. John B stepped back to give you some room, nodding his head.
“Got it last month, finally saved enough between rent and bills.” He replied, “being an adult sucks.”
“I hardly think 19 qualifies as being an adult.” You laughed, taking a seat as he pulled away from the jetty. It was still cold out for now, one of JJ’s hoodies keeping you warm as the light rush of air chilled your bare legs.
“It does when I’ve got bills to fucking pay.” John B replied.
“Touché.” You glanced back at him, “I thought you were doing the Winnebago thing with Kie? Surfing all the coasts or something?”
Kiara was leaving at the end of the week to spend the summer in a Winnebago with a few friends from college. The last you had heard about the trip John B was tagging along too, eager, apparently, to get out of the obx. But here he was, spending his money on a new boat and seemingly unprepared to leave the island.
“Nah, I thought about it but...I don’t know. She’s talking about it being a fresh start and how I’m in a slump but I know if I go with her-”
You nodded, “not exactly a fresh start if you’re just tagging along with Kie wherever she goes.”
You loved Kiara but you knew that she had a constant want to fix her friends problems, always the mom of the group in a way it killed her that things had never gone back to normal after the s’week debacle. The Week that Must Not Be Named, according to JJ.
“Yeah, and listening to her try and fix things between everyone. I love her to death but the ‘we should put aside our differences’ spiel has yet to work on any of us.” John B replied, “except maybe you and Sarah.”
“Me and Sarah are in it for life, she’s my like platonic soulmate best friend. I’d have to cut a part of myself out to not be friends with her anymore.” You admitted. Sarah could stab you in the back, and figuratively she had, and you would still be rooting for her in the end. You loved JJ and you cared about John B but Sarah was your ride or die.
“That’s really touching.”
“Oh shut up,” You laughed, tossing a flip-flop at him. “I love you too John B.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I was gonna say, I’ll take you up on your offer...if it still stands?”
You’d came home almost every weekend because of your schedule but it was during spring break, on a day when JJ had work and you had gone over to the Chateau to hang out with John B, that you had mentioned your family’s vacation home in Hawaii. You usually went around Christmas and had that year, taking JJ with you for his first plane ride ever (which had been hilarious in itself). John B had mentioned wanting to get away from the obx and you suggested your family’s vacation home, free to him if he wanted to move out there for a little while.
“Yeah of course, whatever you need.”
“A serious change of scenery.” John B replied. The Outer Banks had always been his home but it was feeling more and more like a prison the longer he stayed there. Especially when he felt like he was running into JJ everywhere he went.
“I’m guessing, if you’re aversion to Kie is that strong, you and JJ still aren’t talking?” You asked. It was an unspoken agreement between you and JJ that you never talked about his former best friend.
“I got nothing to say to him.” He shrugged, “I’ve tried, I swear...it’s just, every time I see him I think about it and I feel like I wanna drown him in the ocean.”
“I guess you won’t be coming to the boneyard on Friday then?”
“Nah. I’ve got you and Kie and I don’t really wanna see anyone else. I’ve tried hanging out with other people we just don’t vibe ya know? I miss feeling like I had that group...I’m not gonna have that feeling here anymore.”
“Hey I get that. When Rafe and I broke up I lost a lot of friends I thought I had.” You replied, “people can’t help feeling loyal to certain people.”
“Maybe.” John B shrugged; it didn’t matter. Or he was trying to accept that he couldn’t change it. “But you’re here on the boat with me and we get along fine. You don’t try and bullshit me about JJ or tell me we should all be best friends again.”
“It’s not my place. Besides, JJ and I have come to the agreement that we don’t talk about it.” You replied. It kept you both happy.
“Well it’s shit when you and Kie are in school cause then it’s just me and JJ on the cut.” John B admitted. He hadn’t complained too much about it during the school year but you knew that was just for your benefit. “What about you? I know you guys are cool but how is rooming with Sarah?”
“It’s good, feels like old times again ya know...JJ doesn’t come around, but...it what it is.” You shrugged.
✰ ✰
Sarah Cameron -
“I’m going to fail all my classes.” Sarah groaned, resting her chin on her forearms. She’d pushed her books away from her, forcing you to pick up your coffee when her textbooks threatened to knock it over.
Finals were in a week and both of you had been studying like crazy, meeting up in the dorm or in the library for cram sessions between classes. Sarah was already planning on going to Nassau the first week of summer vacation with Topper and some college friends. Even if nobody actually knew what happened last summer it still felt different being in the Outer Banks now.
“You are not, you’re literally one of the smartest people I know.” You replied, attempting to be encouraging as you texted Kiara about Pope’s birthday party coming up. Your books mirrored Sarah’s but you were taking a supposed break from studying for the five minutes your timer allotted.
“But not the smartest?” She asked, lifting her head and narrowing her eyes at you. She grabbed her own cup of coffee off the table and took a sip as she looked over the books again. Nothing had changed.
“I mean, I know Topper so...”
“Oh my god, shut up, I just fucking spit out my coffee.” Sarah laughed, covering her mouth with her hand and reached for a napkin. “For real though, why couldn’t my dad have pulled a Lori Laughlin and like, paid off my college?”
You slipped your phone back on the table face down, clicking the side when it rang and pulling one of your books closer to distract you from it. “Because then he would’ve gotten caught and you would’ve been kicked out and probably blacklisted and everyone would be like ‘that girl is so dumb her dad paid off the college to pass her.’ And you’d have to move in with me and work retail.”
“Stop it. What a fucking nightmare.”
“The living with me or the working retail?” You asked, laughing at the annoyed face she made.
“I’m gonna hire a new best friend who’s just like ‘yeah Sarah you’re so smart’, ‘your dad should pay for you to ace tests, you don’t need college’ and whatever other shit I pay them for.” She replied.
“You could pay me, I’ll be your yes man.” You offered, silencing your phone when it rang again.
“Who’s calling you?” Sarah asked, her attention drawn away from studying and Lori Laughlin to the phone that rang for a third time.
“What?” You looked up, “no one.” You’d told JJ that you would call him when you were finished studying and that you were busy but that didn’t stop the incessant calling once he decided he felt like talking to you. Normally you wouldn’t care but you did your best to separate JJ from your life at school because Sarah was here and you didn’t feel like it was fair to flaunt that in front of her, even if it was accidental.
“Seriously, I can see you clicking off your phone every couple minutes.” She replied, “Is it JJ?”
“Uh-” You bit your lip as you looked over at the offending electronic. It was no use pretending like he wasn’t the person on the other end of the call. You’d gone two semesters and a spring break without incident, surely, she wouldn’t care if you took one phone call. But you still felt guilty, you weren’t sure if that would ever go away. “It’s no big deal, I can talk to him later.”
“I’m fine!” Sarah insisted, “seriously I’ve got like a real date on Friday.”
“I just wanna call him back real quick.” You replied, “I think it’s about going home for the weekend.”
“For Pope’s birthday?”
“Yeah.” You’d been staying on campus with finals so close but it you knew Pope was going to be home for the weekend for his birthday and Kiara would be there and you didn’t want to miss spending time with them. Especially since you wouldn’t see them again until hell week was over and you were moving out of your dorm.
“Kie mentioned it to me last week.” Sarah explained, “Are you guys doing anything special?”
“As far as I know it’s just the four of us.” You replied. John B hadn’t been hanging around either of his former friends. He still saw Kiara when she was home and you whenever you came home for the weekend, but that was sans JJ or Pope. If either of them was around than John B kept his distance.
“Go, go. Seriously, I’m fine.”
You pushed your chair back as your phone rang one more time, finally answering it. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
✰ ✰
JJ Maybank -
“I’ve been thinking,” JJ started to say, sitting on a chair in The Wreck with you on his lap. Before he could continue you raised an eyebrow at him, running your fingers through his hair to get him to look up at you.
“That’s never good.”
JJ stuck his tongue out but kept talking, undeterred by your comment, “...you should drop out.” He announced.
You laughed, knowing that JJ wasn’t serious at all. He’d been making the same suggestion to you since September. “No way in hell! Why would I do that?”
“So I don’t have to go weeks without seeing you.” He shrugged, fingers slipping beneath your shirt as he laid a kiss against your neck.
“A more tempting offer than I expected...what’ll we do on all these weeks spent actually seeing each other?” You asked, smiling. You couldn’t help but play along whenever he asked you to leave school. It was all just for fun, if anything JJ had the most supportive person you had in your life during school.
“I can think of a few things.” JJ replied, squeezing your side and brushing his nose against your collar and neck.
“Oh god.” You laughed, “stop we’re in public. There are families with children here.”
“How do you think they got the kids?” He shrugged.
“You’re a terrible person.” You replied, “come on, Kie and Pope will be here soon.”
“You’ve been home for like an hour and you’re already dying to see our friends instead of me.” JJ whined.
“An hour? Babe, I got in this morning...we spent the whole morning ‘unpacking’ in my room.” You pointed out. You’d taken the earliest ferry over that you could and met JJ on the docks. It didn’t matter that you’d just seen him two weeks ago or that you facetimed him every night, seeing him in person gave you the best feeling in the world. It was undeniable.
“Okay, I know I did not come all the way here just to watch you guys mack on each other.” Kiara announced as she came over to the table.
“Came all the way over? You fucking work here Kie.” JJ replied, rolling his eyes as you got up to give her a hug. He frowned at the loss of attention, even if he did know that going out with everyone meant not getting you all to himself.
“I had to go pick up Pope and then drive back.” Kiara said, as if that was a viable excuse.
“I’m like five minutes away...walking.” Pope pointed out, giving you a hug before grabbing a seat next to JJ.
“No, move.”
“I’m not moving!” Pope exclaimed, “dude, don’t push my chair.”
“He’s being a brat cause I’m apparently more excited to see you guys than I was to see him.” You replied, laughing as Pope smacked JJ’s hands away from his chair. You sat across from your boyfriend, sticking your tongue out at him.
“You are.”
“I am not!”
“She is.” Kiara said, grinning at you, “it’s okay I know you only date JJ so you can hang out with us.”
“Hey!”
“I know, what am I gonna do while you’re away?”
“It’s okay,” Pope said, reaching across the table and putting his hand over yours, “I’ll still be here.”
“Thank god.”
“Okay, seriously, the three of you are the worst.” Despite his words when you looked over at JJ he was smiling, eyes brighter than they’d been when you met him almost a year ago. Things weren’t perfect but they were good.
-
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La Fiesta Tech and other unfortunate decisions 1: Greek House powered by hatred (Tank and Johnny)
After my last post about my general play style for university in TS2, here I come with something more specific! (aka a blog that promised to be about gameplay is finally posting gameplay)
I ran 35 Sims through college at once - the 8 Strangetown and Pleasantview teens, La Fiesta Tech premades, plus student bin families from the other two universities. In this post I’ll focus on one of the households, what their general experience was and what are my headcanons about it.
Now, I don’t have the save file anymore. The neighborhood succumbed to corruption just a rotation after, so I restarted. It was a learning experience and now I know to run HoodChecker after every rotation and to batbox gossip memories frequently. However, I’m over it and enjoying my new hood even more, I just thought I write a short disclaimer that these bits won’t have any mentions in future posts. But my interpretation of the characters still stands and doesn’t change regardless of save files.
Anyway, let’s get down to business!
...to defeat Academic Probation.
When Johnny Smith signed up for an assignment to establish and lead a Greek House of his own, he was overjoyed. Even more so when he saw the name "Grunt" as his assigned partner.
Founding a Greek House with Ripp? AWESOME!
But... the Grunt in question wasn't Ripp...
No. It was the a**hole Grunt. They’ve already been living in one dorm (with like 14 other people) and the place was a battleground.
To be fair, Johnny and Tank didn't just fight and nothing else. Yes, fighting was like 90 % of how they usually spent their time together but there was something else...
Chess.
In this particular game Johnny had become surprisingly fond of chess and frequently rolled the want to play it.
Chess has always been Tank's favorite game.
They played quite often and it was one of the rare times they were having fun together and actually talked instead of yelling.
But are a few games of chess enough to earn one forgiveness for a teenhood of nastiness and abuse?
In Johnny's eyes rightfully not.
He had to admit the a**hole is quite chill when he's not being a total d*ckhead but that didn't change anything about the fact that Tank had been terrible to him for no good reason ever since forever and he hated him for that.
Those feelings... weren't completely mutual.
College was Tank's awakening. He found himself away from his father, away from prying eyes that would judge him for not being perfect and for the first time in his life, he felt quite free.
And empty. And alone. He realized he had no friends and that the only person who truly liked him was his father and he would most probably stop if he ever learned of Tank's inner world.
He decided it was a high time for a change.
But habits aren't easy to break, especially if they're the only thing you know. Tank had never learnt to relax around people, never learnt to talk to them just to get to know them, never learnt to express himself, never learnt how to make friends.
Why, he had never needed to! They would have been a weakness, an unmanly stain of lollygagging on his consciousness. He was taught that friendships form themselves on the battlefield and it's a waste of time to try to create them otherwise.
It was quite awkward when he started approaching Ripp in attempts to mend their relationship. Tank has hurt Ripp in the past, he actually treated them quite horribly, fueling his own confidence from being the older, bigger, stronger one and from their father approving of such behavior.
Their father has never said it out loud but it has always been simply there that Tank was the superior one. More obedient, stronger, faster, more masculine. Smarter, even! How could Ripp with an attitude like theirs, with their lousy academic results even compare to by-the-book and hardworking Tank?
Yet it was Ripp who was seemingly happier, like they didn't even care about father's disapproval or the pressure of being the offspring of a venerated general. Tank realized he admired them for that. They did things Tank wouldn't even dream of. They didn't hide who they were.
Forgiveness... forgiveness isn't easy to attain. But Tank was determined to try anyway. At the very least he would stop causing any more harm to his sibling in the future.
It wasn't that straightforward with his new alien roommate, though.
Johnny was special. First he despised him because his father taught him they were inherently dangerous and invasive, they needed to be driven away. But that got quickly buried under memories of aggression and hostile experiences. It was by all means Tank who started it and Johnny was only fighting back but that didn't matter deep in Tank's head, his brain had connected Johnny to unpleasant, awful things regardless.
But he was also the most... attractive person Tank knew. Tank couldn't help himself. He wished Johnny Smith wasn't an alien, so they could've been friends right from the start. He was athletic, even more than Tank, was interested in the same sports as him and was damn good at them, he has always had good grades without seemingly having to study that much, and all around, he would make such a worthy friend!
Friend. Was that something Tank sincerely had on mind when he fantasized about Johnny? (And did he do that a lot!) No. Not at all.
Ripp has long been out, proud and loud about their orientation, not denying they liked boys and girls and anything in between and beyond, and the general was giving them dirty looks and deprecating remarks for it. He wasn't outright punishing them, mainly because he expected nothing more from Ripp and knew his middle child was simply "a weirdo" but Tank was sure his reception would be even worse if he came out.
He was supposed to be the good son, after all. The heir. He was not supposed to think or do or, by the Watcher, be something his father considers perverted and unmanly. He could only imagine the horrible things the general could say to him and the thought alone was enough to make him shudder.
Once again Tank simply didn't understand Ripp. They liked girls, so the world didn't even had to know that it's not all there is to it. They could've just find themselves a girlfriend and not face any judging generals. That's what Tank would do!
But he couldn't. He wasn't like Ripp. He only ever felt attracted to other men and male-presenting people. There was nothing he could do, no way he could force himself to be any other way.
And nobody knew. Not even that girl from their high school that Tank asked to prom so that he didn't look weird. They were on amicable terms but they weren't even friends, they just helped each other out so they didn't seem like outcasts to the whole school on the prom night.
He remembered his father being elated and encouraging him to invite his "girlfriend" for a dinner soon, so he could meet the fine young lady that might just one day become his daughter-in-law.
Tank had to tell him that it unfortunately "didn't work out" and that he "needs to focus on his studies and training anyway" and the general then praised him for it.
Little did he know that his favorite son, even back then, was not only gay but had a hopeless crush on an alien boy.
Every time Tank tried to interact with Johnny and be nice to him, he got reminded of his feelings he was so ashamed of and of his fear of his father disavowing him, so he said something mean instead or didn't talk to him at all.
The only exception was chess.
Sometimes, when a game neared its end, they spoke. And they talked... casually. It was awkward and cautious but it was a conversation and it felt... good.
Playing chess with Johnny became Tank's guilty pleasure. (even worse than watching make-up tutorials on SimTube!)
Being forced by the assignment to live together for six semesters was equal parts a living hell and a dream come true.
They had a small house on La Fiesta Tech premises that they were to transform into a lively Greek House.
"This place looks like shit and smells like a prison cell. Or vice-versa?"
"You got everything you have for free, Smith. Stop bitching."
Johnny sighed and opened up a book. "Says someone whose loaded dad literally sent him money for this house."
"I thought your family was also well off. Is that incorrect?"
"We have a financial situation called None of your business, Grunt."
"Sorry for asking like a normal person."
"Nothing you do is 'like a normal person'."
...
"I quit! You're unhinged, Smith!"
"Tell me something I don't know."
"I found a knife under your pillow!"
"You found -what? Why the f*ck were you looking under my pillow?!"
"I was just changing the sheets. I did mine, so I thought I'll do yours, too!"
"Why the f*ck would you change the sheets on MY flipping bed?"
"Because you are a disgusting manchild and it stank."
"I was gonna change them tonight! And, guess what!"
"What?"
"YOU also have a knife under your pillow!"
"I don't!"
"Yes, you do, liar."
"How do you know that?"
"I saw you put it there yesterday, you galaxy brain. The question is, why the hell do you have a f*cking knife under your pillow?"
"Why do you, Smith?"
"Because I live with your ass. I sleep better knowing you can't just murder me in my sleep. Now you tell."
"Same. I've slept with a knife under my pillow ever since grade school in case a robber got to our house. I won't stop now that I live with YOU!"
"..."
"I won't kill you. I'm not a freak! Killing is wrong, even if it's parasites such as you. And, besides, I'm not stupid. If you turned up dead, I'll would be charged immediately, even if I didn't do it."
"So why do heck do you think I would kill you, Grunt?"
"I... don't know."
"Anyway, were you for real? Are you quitting? We fail this assignment but I'm chill with that if it means getting rid of you."
"No, no! I'm not going anywhere until we pass. I'm not a quitter! But if you want to quit, I'll respect that and be glad this circus is finally over."
"Fine. Are we getting pizza for dinner tonight?"
...
“I invited my family for a lunch...”
“Alright. I’ll be in the library. Or the gym. Haven’t decided yet.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I want you to be here, Grunt.”
“Why? So you can all make fun of me?”
“Stop being so defensive. I want you to be here, so you can just chill with us. And my folks are gonna know you’re actually... okay.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“And if you hang out with mom, dad and Jill, you’re gonna know they’re okay, too.”
“That’s not how this works. I can’t just act like we’re friends now and everything’s peachy.”
“Well, who said that? Maybe that’s exactly how it works. You never know until you try!”
“If anything goes wrong-”
“Nothing’s gonna go wrong. It’s not that deep. We’re been living together for nearly three f*cking years and had a sh*tton of time to talk. In fact, I already told them you’re my friend now.”
“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t use the F-word!”
Johnny laughed. “What? F*cking? F*ck? C’mon! Your dad can’t hear us!”
“No, the other one. The FR-word.”
Johnny rolled his eyes and grinned. “Go friend yourself!”
“Okay, I’ll stay for the lunch. I’ll go get my tuxedo...”
“Please don’t.”
Reaching a truce was a painfully slow and slowly painful process. Sometimes Johnny wondered if there’s even a point. Sometimes Tank wondered if it wouldn’t be better just to focus fully on his studies and forget that Johnny existed.
But they had to live together, they had to work together organizing parties and happenings in order to grow the Greek House. They had to speak. And when the exams drew nearer, the only person who was available for evening study sessions was usually the other.
What did they study anyway?
Tank rolled the want to major in Drama while Johnny studied Political Science. Tank has never told his father the truth of what his field of study is and knowing his father has access to the university's statistics and probably could fact check that in Tank's house there lives a Drama major and a PolSci major, he pretended he's doing Political Science and Johnny is the one majoring in Drama.
When the general came for a visit to attend Tank's graduation, Johnny played along with his lie.
The relationship between Tank and Johnny improved drastically over the three years. They still weren't exactly close friends but were healing with a prospect of a friendship further along the way.
Were they romantic with one another?
No. Johnny reciprocated Tank's attraction and maybe something could happen in the future but Johnny fell in love autonomously with somebody else.
With a different Grunt, to be exact.
(typing angrily)
Anyway, even though Tank's crush on Johnny ended up futile, it was still a great experience for him.
In college, Tank Grunt really flourished, despite the initial struggle. He realized a lot about himself and started working on his social skills and repairing his relationships.
He also found a friend in none other than Ophelia Nigmos and she became the first person he ever came out to.
Plus, he was the most academically successful Sim of the whole 35 students I played, being the only one who graduated with a flawless 4.0 GPA.
Unlike Ripp, Tank returned back to live with their father and Buck for the time being. He was expected to enter the army and needed a place to be. Moreover, the general was vocal about choosing him as the heir who inherits the Grunt house someday, so it was simply right for Tank to go back and live there.
Was it? Wasn’t it?
Tank was definitely having second thoughts.
He didn’t wonder anymore if military was the right career path for him. He knew it wasn’t.
But was he ready to let the world know who he really was?
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How To Make Your Crush Fall In Love With You In Three Easy Steps by Gay-Natasha-Saves-The-World on Ao3 (aka if you haven’t figured out it’s me yet I don’t know what to tell you)
Chapter 1: Acquire A Target
Ship: Perciver (as always)
Content warning: mild swearing but that’s expected
Summary: Percy was a nerd who couldn’t hold a conversation to save his life and Oliver he had to somehow make him his
AN: This is the prequel to the Christmas tree au fic because I always write prequels for some reason
Percy was dreading the new semester. Not only did the school mess up his whole schedule, taking him out of AP literature and put him into the normal class, they also refused to fix it despite his pleas. He had been complaining about this to anyone who would listen to his rants.
“What useful discussions could I possibly have in this class? They barely even care about what they’re reading.” Percy complained to his friends before school started. “It’s only 4 months, Percy, plus it's an easy A.” Penny replied lightheartedly. “I don't take classes for an ‘easy A’. And we’ve already read all these books in the first semester. This is going to be my living nightmare.” He sighed as the bell for the first period rang. Penny gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he headed to junior English.
He entered Mr. Lupin’s classroom trying to hide the awkwardness he felt. Now, He had nothing against the teacher. He enjoyed his class last year, but AP literature was leagues ahead of the other classes so he would be doing a lot of reviewing and not a lot of learning. He found no point in it.
The whiteboard clearly stated they had to choose new seats for themselves. Since Percy was one of the first in the class, the coveted window seat was open. He put his coat on the back of the chair and sat down.
Clearly either everyone else had a friend in this class or Percy gave off bad energy because the other seat at his table was still unoccupied and almost everyone else was in class. He told himself he didn’t really care, after all, it would mean less chance of people annoying him, but if he was being honest it did hurt a little bit.
It was about 30 seconds after the bell rang when the door swung open. A clearly out of breath student walked in. He looked around and saw the only open seat was the one right next to Percy.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked Percy, who was already focused on his laptop. He gave a quick head shake in response and sat down next to him. And with that class started.
“Good morning, class. I hope you like your seat partners because, after last semester's fiasco, I’m only letting people change seats in certain situations.” Mr. Lupin explained as he walked away from his desk and towards the front of the room. Percy didn’t even want to know what happened before. In AP Literature they didn’t even have assigned seating. Strange.
Percy was kind of half-listening as he was too occupied with his own thoughts. He was listening enough to know the next book they were reading was Jekyll and Hyde. He had already read it last semester and wasn’t particularly fond of it. Good thing he saved his notes so he wouldn’t have to read them again.
“And so your first project with your new seat partner is to make a slideshow about the life of Robert Louis Stevenson. Don’t worry I won’t make you present if everyone takes this seriously.” Mr. Lupin finished, leaving the class to their own devices.
“Well, it looks like we’re partners. I’m Oliver by the way.” He turned towards Percy who was fishing his laptop out of his bag. “I guess we are. My name is Percy.” He said, extending his hand, which Oliver promptly shook.
“So, were you listening to the teacher?” Oliver asked. Percy chuckled. “Not really but I already read Jekyll and Hyde last semester so I didn’t really need to.” He opened slides on his laptop to at least start on the project.
“Oh,” Oliver responded. He didn’t remember seeing Percy last semester so the class he was in was probably ahead. “What did you think of it?” Might as well try to gauge the amount of pain he’d feel for the next few weeks. “I thought it was Frankenstein for people who hate women,” Percy said without much emotion.
“Well, I haven’t read either of them.” Oliver laughed. “Maybe you should then.” Percy shrugged. It was clear Oliver was trying to stall doing the project. Percy honestly didn’t mind doing the bulk of the project, he was expecting it, but it would be decent to let him focus so he could get it done.
Oliver noticed this and shut up. He tried to help when he could. Googling a few facts, formatting slides, but Percy did a lot of the work. Before either of them knew it, the slides were three-quarters of the way done and the class was over. Percy quickly put his stuff away and walked out before Oliver could even process the bell rang. If Percy was gonna be like this the whole semester, he wasn’t gonna enjoy it. He wondered if his table partner being a know-it-all, unfriendly prick would constitute ‘certain situations’ to Mr. Lupin. Probably not. At least he will get good grades on group projects.
The next few weeks went by without much incident. Percy had stopped complaining so much about the class to his friends' delight. And he had also warmed up to Oliver a bit more. He helped him with a lot of the work that came with Jekyll and Hyde. At least his grade was improving in one class so his parents don’t have that to use against him.
Percy was actually starting to enjoy the class because of Oliver. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their chats. They weren’t stimulating like the ones with his other friends but maybe it was a good thing. Oliver was someone he could just talk to.
But Percy knew they were different and that after the school year was over it was unlikely they would interact much. They led different lives that would’ve never crossed each other’s path if Percy’s schedule was messed up. It was unlikely they would have another class together next year so he was trying to make the most of this.
One day Oliver found himself in the library during lunch. It was extremely unlike him but he needed a book for history class so it was as good of a time as any. While he was looking through the section on the industrial revolution he noticed Percy sitting at a table with his friends.
“Cinema peaked with But I’m A Cheerleader and you cannot convince me otherwise.” The girl sitting next to Percy exclaimed. He thinks her name is Penny but he wouldn’t bet money on it. But that didn’t matter, he was more focused on Percy. The way he was trying to hold back his laughter. Oliver couldn’t describe it in any way other than enchanting.
He didn’t really understand this. Percy was his friend, of course, but over the past few days, his feelings started to change. He wanted to be the person to make Percy laugh like that. He wanted to make him happy. ‘Holy shit, I’m in love with Percy.’ A shocking realization.
He didn’t even realize he was staring at him until Percy waved at him. He waved back and quickly walked away. “That was fucking creepy.” He mumbled to himself. It was likely that Percy didn’t even like him in that way. He had to find a way to make him somewhat desirable. And he knew exactly where to start.
He walked towards the fiction section. It was organized by the author's last name. Fuck what was the author’s name. He brought out his phone and did a quick search. The S’s were on another shelf so he went by scanning them. Sa, Se, Sh, bingo. He picked up the last copy that was in the library and went to the front counter. If Percy wasn’t going to fall for him at least he would get smarter after this.
#harry potter#percy weasley#oliver wood#perciver#fanfiction#gay#percy weasley x oliver wood#muggle au#it’s connected to the Christmas tree fic
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Heeey prompt thing (if you have time!) What about something where everyone is getting their college applications back and Steve is just getting sadder and sadder because he’s rejected from pretty much everywhere, but he’s trying hard to be happy for everyone else so hides it. But then Billy finds him crying over the latest rejection (I dunno maybe his Dad even tried a bribe/donation and they still said no) and Steve’s thinking he’s dumb and he’s gonna lose everyone and then. (Pt1)
(Pt2) Billy actually reads over Steve’s essay and figured out he might be dyslexic- but no one else ever has. And maybe he gets Steve some help, or gets him to talk about wanting to do something more vocational at college (working with kids in some way?) but just trying to please his Dad or something like that??
Steve has 6 unopened college response letters sitting on his desk. UCLA, University of Michigan, Penn State, Baylor University (He thought Texas might be fun), Huntington University, and Indiana State. He should get into at least one, Indiana State, because his dad sent the admissions office “extra incentive.” He starts with UCLA, rips it open as best he can with shaking hands.
“Dear Mr. Harrington,
We’re sorry to inform...”
He stops reading, already knows he didn’t make it. He reassures him self that it’ll be okay. One is sure to say yes.
University Of Michigan
“Dear Mr. Harrington,
“We’re sorry to inform...”
Penn State
“Dear Mr. Harrington,
We’re sorry..”
Baylor University
“Dear Mr. Harrington,
We’re sorry...”
He takes a deep breath, and wills the tears not to form. He trembles as if he’s freezing and grabs the Huntington University letter, he prays that he got in to at least one college on his own.
Huntington University
“Dear Mr. Harrington,
Unfortunately you were not accepted for the fall semester.”
Indiana State
This one should be better, he thinks.
“Dear Mr. Harrington,”
He takes a breath.
“We’re sorry...”
“No.” Steve can’t breath. He didn’t think it was possible. They didn’t want him, even with his father’s generous donation. He backs up to the wall and slides down until he’s sitting and buries his head in his knees. Silent tears track down his face, he takes in a shuddering breath. He sits there for a while and contemplates what he’s going to tell his dad. He knows he’s going to get shit for it, and proved his father right, he really is too stupid, and he’s just a disappointment to the Harrington name. He’s pulled out of his sorrow when he hears someone pouting on his front door. He runs to the bathroom and splashes some cold water on his face, takes a couple breaths, and makes sure it doesn’t look like he’s been crying for the past hour. He walks down the stairs and stands in front of the door, preparing to have a “pleasant” conversation with whoever is standing out there. He opens the door and Nancy and Jonathan are standing there with matching grins.
“Steve! Jonathan and I got accepted into Indiana State! And Jon got accepted into an art School in Chicago too!” Nancy cheers as she throws her arounds around him in joy. “Did you get your letters yet, Steve?” Jonathan asks, and Steve just shakes his head, “Not yet,” he mutters out in a fake hopeful voice. “Well when you do, we need to celebrate!” And Steve agrees, mustering the best smile he can. He can’t bring down their moods just because he’s not smart enough. He forces himself to be happy as he congratulates both of his friends.
Days pass, and every time Nancy calls asking if he got his letters, he denies, denies, denies. A week after his rejections, a smiley Billy shows up at his door with a piece of paper in his hand. “I got in to UCLA! Isn’t that great Stevie? Now you and me can move to California, and go to school together and leave this town behind!” Billy exclaims. Steve just grins, happy to see his love happy, “I haven’t gotten my letters yet,” Steve lies and tries to not think about how he’ll never escape Hawkins.
Soon after Billy comes over, he’s got the kids in The Party up his ass, wondering where he’s going and how far he’s going to be “Leaving us behind, Steve!” as Dustin so nicely put it. He denies and says he doesn’t know, hasn’t decided yet. He gets away with lying for about a month and then everyone has received their letters and there’s no way Steve hasn’t received his yet.
He tells Nancy and Jonathan first, the disappointment on their faces hurts more than the actual rejection letters themselves. “Steve, how? You- We studied together every Monday and Wednesday after winter break together.” Nancy asks, a frown pulling at her lips. “Yeah, Steve. I thought we worked on your essay. We wrote a good one. Together.” Jonathan probes, wondering how this happened. Steve sighs, “I sent in an essay I wrote myself. I wanted to get in with my own work. I thought it was a good idea. Guess not.” He confesses. They leave, looking like Steve had deeply betrayed them, and he couldn’t help but feel like he did.
When he tells the kids, they’re not sad. Or disappointed in him. In fact, they’re happy. “Yes! Now we van keep using your house for our sessions! And I’ll still have my best friend!” Dustin exclaims, Steve’s heart swells at the best friend title. At least some people don’t think he’s a total failure.
He saves Billy for last, reading seeing the disappointment when he tells him he won’t be going to UCLA with him. When Billy comes in, he notices right away that the mood is not its usual. “What’s wrong, Stevie?” Steve doesn’t like the concern in his voice, it makes him feel guilty. “Bill... I didn't get accepted into UCLA,” “Oh, Steve, that’s okay. We can study together at State!” quick to solve the problem, not letting Steve’s news get him down. “But Billy, I didn't get accepted into State either. I wasn’t accepted anywhere.” Steve sniffles. He keeps his head down, not wanting to face the man infant of him. “Can I see your essay?” Billy asks, walking away, not waiting for an answer. “I guess, it’s really bad though.” Steve shrugs, and runs to his room to grab the original copy of his essay. “Gotta see what was so bad that all those snotty schools didn’t want my boy,” Billy says as he reads. When he finishes, he looks up and studies Steve’s face for a minute. “Is it really so bad you can’t say anything to me?”
“Have you ever been tested for learning disabilities?” And Steve looks positively offended, “Wh- No? I’m not- No. Harrington’s don’t have problems,” he says, his fathers words coming out at the end. “Since I was little, my teachers wanted to get me tested... But they stopped pushing for it with the help of my father’s money. I didn't need to get tested because.. Well, because Harrington’s don’t have learning disabilities,” Steve reveals, and he spits out the last two words like they burnt his tongue. “Steve, I know why you didn’t get accepted, why you have so much trouble in school.” Steve looks up at him, “I think you have dyslexia, Stevie. I don’t know how miss smarty pants Nancy and her investigator boyfriend didn’t figure it out.” Billy tells him gently.
“This means this isn’t the end, Stevie! You can go to schools, different colleges, that’ll have the right resources for you! You can come to California after all!”
Steve comes to terms with the new revelation and he and Billy take off to the library to do some research. After a couple of days of searching, Steve finds a school in California. He applies, and holds his breath when he opens his letter. With Billy standing next to him and gripping his hand tightly, he rips open the envelope.
“Dear Mr. Harrington,
We’re ecstatic to welcome you for the fall semester! Congratulations!”
Steve lets out a shocked laugh, like he can’t believe his eyes, and turns to Billy. “I did it!” “You did it.”
They tell The Party, and Nancy and Jonathan, and everyone is so happy for him. “I knew you could do it, kid.” Chief Hoppers says, looking at Steve proudly. The kids are a little sad, but feel better when Steve assures them he’ll be back at thanksgiving, and they can throw a week long D&D session at his house.
In the fall, Billy and Steve set off in the Camaro, a tiny apartment and 2 colleges wait for them on the west coast. Billy can’t drive fast enough.
#harringrove#billy hargrove#my writing#steve harrington#dyslexic!steve#billy x steve#billy hargrove x steve harrington#text post#harringrove fic#prompt fill#anon ask#stranger things
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Dancing With Your Ghost p.2 (Request)
pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader
word count: 2,226
warnings: mentions of drug use, language, slight angst. part 1 **the last part will be an epilogue**
Your small weekend with Xavier Plympton had changed your life.
Your final semester of college was quickly coming to a close. You'd go to your classes three times a week, while simultaneously working your part-time job.
But on the weekends during your only days of free time, you drove to Camp Redwood to see Xavier and the others.
After your camping trip, you tried to show the others the photos you had taken of yourself and Xavier. They had given you weird looks, claiming that you were the only one in the pictures, and the ones with just Xavier were all nature shots. You were visibly frustrated at this. Winter had stayed behind with you in the school library after another failed attempt at trying to convince Dorothy and Riley he was real.
"I'm not making this up," you said, wiping your eyes as Winter rubbed your back.
"y/n, I believe you. I think it's best if you keep this to yourself, it's only causing you to stress, and you don't need that right now. This is one of the biggest years in your entire life, don't let it go to waste."
You took her words to heart and never brought him up around your other friends again. Winter was more understanding, yet you could see the hesitation in your eyes whenever you talked about how funny he was and how he made you laugh.
June was fast approaching, and your graduation ceremony was just days away. You drove in your car, the windows down, and your favorite songs on full volume.
You told the others you were visiting a friend who graduated the year before you. It wasn't entirely a lie, she had moved out this way with her new husband and baby. They didn't need to know you were seeing Xavier, Montana, Ray, and now Trevor and Chet, who you had met just a few weeks ago.
All of them had the same reactions to your cell phone. You never realized that so many people might not know the same life you do. It was weird, though, when you think of the fact that they don't seem to have any idea of anything.
Still, you brushed it off as them wanting to be off the grid. You could understand that. The world was harsh, social media could be harmful, and it was admirable that they were so dedicated to their current existence that neither of them seemed to want to change.
This weekend you were supposed to have a fire with them. You had brought a small cooler of things for yourself. Xavier assured you the last time you saw him that they'd cover everything on their end; you brought blankets, flashlights, extra snacks, and other essentials for yourself.
You pulled in front of the familiar entrance to Camp Redwood, taking a deep breath as you climbed out, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. You always felt so nervous about coming and seeing him again, even though you knew there was nothing to worry about. You crossed over the roadblock with ease, already seeing your new friends smiling at you.
"Hey!" Montana called, waving to you as you smiled at the sight of them.
"Hi!" you said, taking turns hugging everyone. When you finally reached Xavier, who smirked at you, you held him a little longer than usual. Trevor playfully nudged Montana, smiling at the sight of you.
"Did you bring the weed?" Montana asked.
You gestured towards your bag, "Just like you requested."
"I knew I liked you," Montana smiled, siding up beside you and throwing her arm around your shoulders. "We already have a place set up right by the water. Did you bring your suit?"
"Of course I did," you smiled, "It's still a little chilly, though."
"Trust me, it's gonna warm-up", Xavier smirked at you. "Is that all your stuff?" he asked, frowning.
"No, I have some things in the car. I'll just get them later," you said. Montana dragged you along, the boys following behind as you wandered farther into the abandoned camp.
The temperature skyrocketed in the afternoon, much like Xavier had predicted. Everyone jumped into the lake, except for Chet, who just laid out in the sun, watching the water as if he was scared of it. You had playfully splashed him, causing him to smile at you.
Xavier had swum up behind you, catching your waist as you finished play fighting with Montana. You felt shivers at the feel of his hands on you, and you turned to look at him as Trevor and Montana started making out in front of all to see. Ray was watching near the deck, gagging at the sight.
"Did you forget about me?" Xavier joked with you, holding you as you bobbed in the water.
"Of course not," you said. "I think Montana is finally warming up to me." you smiled.
"She's always liked you," Xavier shrugged. "She just has a hard time trusting people, is all."
You turned a final time, seeing Trevor and Montana cheekily climbing out of the water. You laughed before looking towards the cliffs overlooking the water.
You saw what appeared to be a woman standing there, her hands on her hips as she stared at you. Her blonde hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a red and blue print blouse and skirt.
"Who is that?" you questioned. Xavier turned around, but the woman was gone.
"Who?" Xavier asked, giving you a confused look.
"A woman was standing there," you said. "She had blonde hair, I think."
Xavier froze, turning to see both Chet and Ray staring at him with similar expressions. Xavier swallowed, being reassuring you that it was probably just a tourist. A lot of people liked to drive onto the cliffs and look around.
You believed him, and the three men made a mental pact to protect you at all costs.
Later that night, Ray and Chet argued about who could start a better fire. You sat next to Xavier, your hair still wet as they talked loudly over one another, yet both still had yet to start a fire that lasted longer than a few seconds.
Montana and Trevor had since returned, cuddling next to each other as he whispered things in her ear. You pretended not to notice, not wanting to even imagine what was being said.
"How about that weed, y/n?" Montana then asked, laughing as she shoved Trevor's face away.
So you brought out the little stash you stole from Dorothy's room, watching as Xavier and Trevor expertly rolled a blunt for each person. It wasn't a whole lot to last the entire night, but just enough to give all of you a buzz. Just to be safe, you tucked a ten-dollar bill into her wallet.
"Come on, where's the fire!?" Montana pretended to heckle the boys now fighting over the matches.
"We're freezing our asses off!" Trevor joined in, and then everyone was playfully jeering at Chet and Ray, who finally decided to call a truce.
"Okay, okay, okay!" Ray said, "Now, all of you watch and learn."
Ray bent down, strategically placing the logs in such a way that the group might as well just be in one of those survival shows. Xavier wasted no time in taking a few puffs, placing his arm behind your back as he slowly leaned into your side. You enjoyed it.
"And..." Ray said before throwing a lit match onto a pile of dry leaves and twigs. "NOW!" There was a little flame, before it disappeared. "... Oh."
"You idiot, let me do it!" Chet snickered, snatching the box of matches from him.
"This is some good stuff," Montana sighed, "You guys better hurry up before we take your share."
Once Chet finally got a fire started, the six of you settled in a comfortable haze. You hadn't smoked weed in quite a while, and you could feel a buzz almost immediately.
The group was very rowdy under the influence; Trevor decided to dance provocatively in his shorts, and Montana hooted and hollered while pretending to toss invisible money his away. Chet and Ray were "discussing loudly," as they had proudly put it, about who would be the best park ranger out of the two.
Meanwhile, Xavier was looking at you as if he had never seen anything quite like you before. You noticed that despite the two of you being friends, he was almost flirty with you, and he kept touching your arms, shoulders, or back whenever he could. You found that you didn't mind it one bit, even leaning against him after a while.
You never thought your life could get any better than this.
***
The first time you met Xavier, you knew there was something about him that was familiar. You could never put your finger on it. Even now, after meeting the others, you realized you felt that way about everyone else.
You started to question why it seemed they never wanted to leave the camp.
Xavier had walked you back to your car to get your things but stopped just before the gate. You pulled on his arm, but he said he couldn't come out with you.
"What do you mean, it's just a few steps away?" you whined, tugging on him.
"y/n, how about you sleep in the cabin with us?" Xavier tried. "It will be fun, all of us will be there."
Your brain was still fried that night, so you ended up not pushing him further. But now that a few days had passed, you kept thinking about it, and why they never wanted to come out to Los Angeles and see you. Or meet your friends.
You were becoming confused.
This fateful night, you were resting after your exhausting final exam. Your roommates were drinking in the other room, celebrating the end of their college career. They wanted you to join, but you felt something was slightly off.
While you were happy to be done with school, and your dream job was just an arms reach away, you couldn't stop thinking of moving back home. Your parents had called you that morning, saying that they made up your old bedroom for you when you finally came back. You'd live there until you and Winter saved up enough to get your own apartment in Michigan.
You wanted to stay in California. Dorothy and Riley were both born and raised here; their friendship was a blessing, as not only did you meet two friends for life, but they showed you the ins and outs of living in Hollywood. Now that time was ticking until your lease was up, you'd all be parting ways for an indefinite amount of time.
Xavier, Montana, Trevor, Chet, and Ray were still lingering in your mind as you wiped your eyes. You wished you had met them sooner, you wished you had more time to spend with them.
You sat up quickly when someone started knocking on your door. Winter swung it open, a glass of wine in her hand as she smiled at you, excited. "There's a new documentary for Camp Redwood on, let's go!" she said, coming and grabbing your hand.
"Just record it, I'll watch it later," you tried, but failed. Winter dragged you into the living room with the girls, plopping you on the couch as Riley placed a glass of wine in your hand. You pouted as the show started, taking a dainty sip to please them.
You had seen so many documentaries about the events, you knew you'd be learning nothing new. But this was your thing with them, you loved true crime, and you always watched the same things over and over. You wouldn't be getting this again for a while.
"y/n, what was the name of that guy you said you met at camp?" Riley asked randomly, scrolling on her phone.
"Xavier," you answered without hesitation, "Why?"
The three girls looked at you, just as the documentary showed four pictures on the screen of all the victims. You turned, seeing the faces of Xavier, Montana, Chet, and Ray staring back at you. All of the photos were definitely aged.
You felt dread in the pit of your belly as your mouth went dry when the narrator named them off one by one. They talked about Brooke Thompson, who was put to death after the murders and attempted murders of Trevor Kirchner and Margaret Booth. Trevor was eventually killed a few years later, his body found after the failed music festival that was planned there.
You felt like you were going to vomit.
"y/n?" Winter asked, touching your back as you felt your head spinning. The wine glass toppled out of your hand, smashing against the wooden floor. Riley gasped, springing up to get a towel.
"I need a moment." you panted before running off to your room, locking yourself up.
You felt so fucking stupid.
"How did this... no, no, no," you choked into your hands, tears spilling over as you wondered if you were officially crazy. It was the only logical explanation, as you knew you couldn't see dead people. You hallucinated the victims of the massacre, and you think you were falling in love with-.
You paused, wiping your eyes as you stared at your darkened room.
You needed answers, and you wanted them now.
taglist: (feel free to ignore, and if i missed anyone please let me know, i have a bad memory)
@the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd @okoktrinity22 @uwonman @stefanmikaleson1864 @sevenwonderwitch @rubbrninja @iamnotjesha @leatherduncan @imshakingandcryingrn @bratzblitz @goblackcat69 @brookethompsonownsme @bookoffracturedescapes @zodiyack @bitchchatter @guiltyfiend @psychobitchtess @aangrana @thexmancometh @wtfcas @pleasforhelp
#xavier plympton x reader#jim mason x reader#michael langdon x reader#duncan shepherd x reader#cody fern#ahs1984#request#ray powell#montana duke#xavier plympton imagine#trevor kirchner#american horror story#ahs imagine
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Heal My Heart - Chapter 3
December 2007 (Y/N) POV
“To the left (Y/N), to the left…oh my god! Do you not know what the fucking left is?” I rolled my eyes as Blake turned and glared at me. “We could’ve had that you know…”
“I am so sorry.” I muttered as she continued glaring at me.
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m not.” I grinned as the other girl shook her head. I sat the controller down standing up at the knock on the door. I opened to see a smiling Alex Morgan. I grinned back at the girl as I moved aside to let her into the room.
“Hey guys. I am getting ready to leave. My mom is here.” Blake and I both nodded as we gave the girl hugs.
“Merry Christmas Alex.” I said as she hugged me tightly.
“Merry Christmas (Y/N). If I don’t see you before you leave for camp, good luck and I believe in you.” I smiled at her as she turned to exit the room. “Bye! I love you!”
“Love you too.” Blake shouted back as she turned to set up a new game.
I went back and sat by her as we continued playing. After playing for another few hours, I realized it was almost time for me to go do my last shift at the coffee shop before I had to head home for the holidays.
“Are you excited to go home?” Blake asked me as I laid in my bed.
“Yeah. I miss my family and it will be nice to spend some time with my mom. What about you?”
“I’m excited. I missed my dad.” I nodded my head before getting up and getting ready for work.
Things have been a little better lately. I finished the semester strong with A’s and B’s and I’ve been a little bit better. I still haven’t really talked much with Christen after the whole Kelley thing. We both apologized and made up, but I still feel awkward about talking to her. I guess a part of me is still hurt by what happened. Blake has helped me a lot through it. I don’t think I realized how much I needed an actual friend to talk about stuff with until I started to open up to her.
We have a lot in common and it feels like we have known each other a lot longer than we have. I opened up to her about my dad and how he left. She told me about her mom who passed away when she was younger. She has shown me that I can’t let the whole Christen situation stop me from living my life.
“Do you love me?” I turned towards her as she lifted her head up.
“What do you want?”
“A doughnut.” I laughed slightly, grabbing my phone before turning to exit the room.
“Glazed?”
“Yes please…you’re the best.”
“I know.”
I made my way towards the shop as I contemplated what the next few months would look like. I thought that it would be nice and chill since soccer season is over, but with the call-up to the national team coming into play. Well, I wasn’t getting to fully relax like I wanted to. Everyone flipped out when they found out about my callup. The girls took me out drinking which was an experience. My mom cried on the phone with me when I told her.
Three of my friends got called up to the team alongside me so I felt really good knowing I wasn’t going into it alone. I don’t know what I would do without Tobin, Amy, and Lauren being at camp with me. I feel like my journey in my career so far has featured them heavily and I hope we get to have long careers on the senior team together like we did in the youth teams. Amy was lucky enough to have been called up before as was Lauren, but this would be Tobin’s first camp so I was mainly sticking with her.
I had yet to tell Christen that I got called up. It kind of goes along with the whole not talking to her thing. She was the first person I wanted to call when I found out, but with everything that has happened it just didn’t feel right.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?” I turned towards Tati who gave me an odd look.
“Just how busy the next couple of months are going to be.” I said as she nodded her head.
“Yeah, the call up to the national team is insane.”
“It is.”
“You deserve it though…you’re an incredible player and they are lucky to have you.”
“Thanks Tati.”
“Plus, you get to feel good knowing I am not going to fire you because of how much you won’t be around.”
“Lucky me.” I said sarcastically as she laughed. Our shift seemed to pass by slowly given that most people were gone for Christmas break. I was leaving the next day to go home and I was so looking forward to being back with my family.
The rest of the night continued with me making sure all my stuff was together for when my mom arrived to get me. Blake was planning on leaving the same night as me because ‘being in the dorm by yourself is weird’ and to be honest I can’t argue with that. The next day when my mom arrived, I took a little time to load up the car and introduce my mom and Blake. They seemed to hit it off as I noticed them laughing a lot. They didn’t even offer me any help because they were too busy talking to each other.
“I love your mom.” Blake said as I gave her a look. “You lucked out in that department”
“Yeah, everyone tells me that.” I commented as she grinned at me. We stood for a moment before I gave her a somber look. “So, I’ll see you after break?”
“Yes. I’ll be back before you, but I won’t hold that against you.” I grinned pulling her in for a hug. She groaned slightly before reciprocating the hug.
“I’m gonna miss you.” I admitted as she squeezed me tighter.
“I’ll miss you too. You have my number if you need anything though.” I nodded my head before letting go of her.
“Merry Christmas Blake.”
“Merry Christmas (Y/N)” I gave her a wave before heading towards my mom’s car. We got in and began to drive. It was silent for a little bit until my mom spoke.
“So, Blake seems nice…” I looked at her giving her a confused look before realization dawned on me.
“EW! Gross. No. Hell No!” I said as she laughed. I gave her a disgusted look before responding again. “Blake is like my best friend. There are no feelings there.”
“You said the same thing about Christen.” She defended as I gave her an offended gaze.
“I love Christen. I am actually in love with Christen. I am not in love with Blake.” I said feeling offense at the thought of loving anyone other than Christen.
“How is Christen?”
“Um…I wouldn’t know actually…we haven’t really been talking. Not since the Kelley incident.”
“Didn’t that happen at thanksgiving?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you two made up?”
“We did, but it still isn’t the same. I don’t know. I mean…I am sure we will hangout when we are both on break.”
“I hope so. It would be sad if you two weren’t friends anymore.” I nodded my head along with her knowing that it seemed like torture to ever have to live without the other girl.
The drive felt like forever as we soon made it home hours later. I wasn’t so surprised to find my aunt and grandma at my house as I got big hugs from both of them. My grandma wanted to go out to dinner to celebrate both my coming home and my call up to the national team. I could never decline free food, so I happily accepted.
The next couple days after that were spent sleeping around the house. The laziness in me had really come out as I really only moved to go to the bathroom. Watching tv and texting the girls was how most of the days were spent. I had a little money saved up, so I planned on doing a little Christmas shopping for my family. Since my dad left, our Christmases haven’t really been the same. We used to have these big Christmas parties where all my family on both sides would come over, but after their divorce. It has only been my mom, grandma, and aunt.
I was broken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. I glanced at the clock noticing that it was only 2:34 pm which meant that it was far too early for anyone to be knocking on my door. I stood walking over and opening it.
“Hey!” Christen beamed as I stared at her in shock for a moment.
“Hi” I said as her smile faltered at my non-enthusiastic response.
“I didn’t know when exactly you were going to be home from school so I thought I would chance it and see if you were here.”
“Yeah…I got back a few days ago.” I responded as she nodded her head. We stood there for a moment before I moved aside to allow her into the home. We went to the living room as I fell back onto the couch. She took a seat in one of the chairs next to the couch as we were both silent. I think we were both trying to figure out what to say.
“Are you happy to be home?” I turned to look at her as I nodded my head.
“Yeah, I missed my family so much. Also, sleeping in my bed just feels better when I am here versus being there at the dorms.” I turned to look back at the tv trying to focus on the show.
“Yeah same…why have you been avoiding me?” My head snapped towards her as she gave me a sad look. “I thought after our conversation at Thanksgiving that things would be better between us, but it still feels like you’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not-” she cut me off with a look as I stared at her. I looked down before continuing. “I don’t know. I thought I was over it, but I guess I am still a little hurt.”
“I don’t think I really expected you to forgive me so easily, but I am really sorry (Y/N).”
“I know.”
Things fell silent again as we both seemed to fall lost in thought. I know it isn’t fair to her to continue holding this against her. She doesn’t know that her dating Kelley and not telling me hurts more than anything else I have ever experienced. She doesn’t know that I wish it was me every single day and it’s not fair for me to continue hurting her because she chose to live her life.
“I’m sorry Christen. It’s not fair to continue being weird about this whole thing….can we just move on from it? I’ll be better I promise.” She moved from her seat to sit on the couch. I sat up and moved my legs, so she had room.
“I don’t want you to just forget about it because you think it’s going to make me feel better…” I stared at her as I sighed. “I lied to you and that wasn’t cool.”
“You didn’t lie.”
“Lying by Omission is still lying.” I stared at her as I shook my head.
“No, it’s fine. Seriously, I just want things to go back to the way they were before.” She nodded her head as I opened my arms for a hug. She didn’t hesitate to hug me as I enjoyed the feeling of her in my arms.
When we pulled away, she gave me a genuine smile. I smiled back as she leaned back on the arm of the couch and brought her feet up to tuck between me and the couch. I leaned back against the other arm as I let my feet hang on the side.
“You really stay invading my personal space…” I commented as she laughed. I grinned as I moved the pillow to settle on top of her feet. We both continued watching tv for a little bit before she decided it was time for us to catch up.
“I won’t even talk about Kelley.” She said as I shook my head.
“No, it’s not a proper catch-up if you don’t say everything.” I said as she nodded her head.
“Okay. Well, it has been great…” she then proceeded to go on for a little while about how great Kelley is and how much she likes her.
“So…like are you in love?” I asked as she seemed to think for a moment before shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t say I am there…or that I could ever get there with her…” she responded as I nodded my head. “It’s fun. That’s what it is supposed to be is fun. I don’t really think either of us are looking for something super serious. I think we are just enjoying each other’s company for now.”
“That’s…awesome.” I said as she smiled.
“What about you?” I was responding to a text from Alex as I looked up at her.
“What about me?”
“Has anyone caught your eye?”
“No. I have too much going on to date anyone right now.” Unless, it’s you.
“What do you have going on?” she asked as I stared at her with confusion before remembering she doesn’t know about the call-up.
“Shit! That’s right. I did not tell you. I got a call up to the senior national team.” Her eyes widened as she surged forward to hug me. I grinned and laughed at her reaction before having an internal meltdown at the fact that she was basically in my lap.
“How could you not tell me?” she had her hands on my shoulders as she hovered above me beaming with excitement.
“Well…” I was at a loss for words partly because she knows why we weren’t talking and partly because she is extremely close to me. She seemed to catch my awkwardness a little because she backed off and fell back onto her side of the couch. I let out a little sigh of relief as she smiled at me.
“Right. Well, I am so proud of you. I knew a call-up was coming for you. When is the camp?”
“January.” I responded as she nodded her head.
“I can’t wait to cheer you on. I knew you would make it. I never doubted you.”
“That means a lot.” I said as she grinned at me.
The rest of the day was spent hanging out together. Things were slowly going back to normal and I was grateful for that. I didn’t like being in an awkward position with her. It didn’t feel good. The following weeks were spent doing my Christmas shopping and hanging out with Christen. I figured out a new form of torture was listening to her talk about Kelley. I was torn between being a good friend and wanting to rip my hair out. I usually would text like Blake or Alex during those conversations. They were a good distraction from the pain.
Christmas had come and gone before we were bringing in the new year. Christen had been invited to a party with Kelley and so our usual plans for a movie marathon during the new year was axed out and that was fine. It was a major bummer to not spend it with her, but I respected that she had other plans. Luckily for me, I had also managed to get invited to go out for the night.
Alex came through with the invite to a New Years Party. I was hesitant to accept at first because I definitely wouldn’t know anyone, but she seemed excited and I found it difficult to say no to her when she gets excited like that. That would be where I currently am at the moment.
“I appreciate you going with me.” Alex said from the passenger seat as I looked over at her.
“Yeah no problem…I didn’t really have anything else going on.”
“Still….you didn’t have to.” She said as I smiled at her.
“Seriously…it’s no big deal.”
Once we arrived, Alex immediately started introducing me to all of her friends from high school. They all seemed cool enough and accepted me for the night. I stayed pretty close to Alex since she was the only one, I really knew. The house we were at was pretty nice. As the night continued on, I got separated from Alex and decided to go find some air. I found a place of solitude on a balcony overlooking the backyard and the view had a pretty good view of a festival that wasn’t too far away.
“Hey…” I turned to see the forward coming out onto the balcony. She had two drinks in her hand as she handed me one.
“Hey yourself.” I said as she gave me a smile.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” she questioned as I looked to the sky. It was a nice night and I was thankful that I hadn’t stayed in.
“Just needed some air. Big parties aren’t usually my thing.” I admitted as she laughed.
“You and Blake are so alike.” She grinned as I shook my head.
“Sorry we would rather enjoy a night in.” Her smile widened at my confession. “I’m actually glad I came tonight. I feel like I’ve been in a slump and it was nice to get out.”
“Well, then I am glad I could help you out of your slump.”
“Yeah…thanks!” she gave me a smile before turning back towards the party. “Seriously, I usually spend new year’s watching movies with a friend, and I guess I never really knew what I was missing…”
“It’s not about what you’re necessarily missing…you should spend your time doing what you want. You said it yourself. Parties aren’t really your thing and that’s okay.”
“Still…I had only one person in high school that I really was okay being friends with and so most of my time was spent with her. All my traditions spent with her and I never really experienced the whole going out thing all the time.”
“Well, I don’t go out all the time. I like to for certain occasions. This is definitely one of them.”
“I wish I was as much of a risk taker as you are.”
“I don’t. I like your laid-back personality. You’re the chill I need in my life.” She joked as I grinned. “Plus, you work hard for what you want and with the call up to the senior team…I have a feeling it’s all about to pay off for you.”
“Maybe. I still have a lot of respect for you Alex Morgan.” I smiled at her as she stared at me shaking her head.
“Keep playing and I might just make you my new years kiss.” I laughed at her as a thought came to mind.
“I don’t really think I would mind if you were my new year’s kiss, but um…speaking of kissing…have you talked to Tati at all?”
“Ha-ha very funny. Actually, we have been talking a lot more lately and I have been really enjoying it. I’m not going to lie. I think I might be in love with her.”
“Oh, you used the L word…it must be super serious.”
“Don’t make fun of me you dick…” I grinned, shaking my head as she continued whining.
“I’m not. I am genuinely happy for you! I think it’s great that you’re in love. You should go for it!” I said as she gave me a nervous smile.
“You think so?”
“Yeah for sure…” I offered her a supportive smile
“I just don’t know if she feels the same…”
“Alex…she would be crazy not to. You’re an amazing person. Anyone would be lucky to have you by their side.”
“You really mean that?”
“Of course, I do! You are genuinely one of the most amazing people I have had the privilege of knowing.”
“It’s amazing that you don’t have a girlfriend with how sweet you are.” She commented as I shrugged my shoulders.
“I guess we will never know.” I took a sip of my drink as she laughed. We spent a little while longer listening to the music of the party and talking before we could hear the countdown begin. Usually, Christen and I would be together for the countdown and we would try to time a dramatic moment in a movie to match the new year, but obviously that wasn’t going to be happening this year.
“Can I just say…I am really glad I get to spend the New Year with you.” I said as she grinned at me.
“Me too.” We heard the countdown reach one before the fireworks went off. We watched them and continued sharing stories with each other before she offered me a toast.
“To hopefully a kickass year.”
“To a kickass year.” I said as she grinned at me. We headed back down to the party to rejoin everyone else and continue having a good time.
We stayed for a little while longer before leaving. I didn’t really drink because I wanted to make sure she got home safely. Her family was nice enough to let me stay the night with them due to how dangerous the roads could be at this time. The days following New Years were wild due to having to get ready for my first senior camp. I was extremely nervous as I was constantly texting Cheney, Amy, and Tobin about what I should be packing.
Before I knew it, it was time to leave for camp. The camp was being held only twenty minutes from my house so that was a relief that I wasn’t having to travel too far. Amy was going to be the first out of my friends to get there since she also lived in California. Tobin was coming from Jersey and Cheney from Indianapolis so it would take them some time.
Hours later saw me sitting in my room with the girls as we caught up with each other about our holidays. We had about half an hour before we had to report for the team meeting, so I was taking the time to try to stay as relaxed as possible.
“How were your holidays?” I focused back in as the three stared at me expectantly.
“Boring. I didn’t really do much.” I admitted as they all gave me a look.
“Well, that’s a bummer.” Tobin said as I nodded my head.
“You didn’t do anything fun?” I shook my head as Cheney rolled her eyes.
“I’m going to call your mom and ask her.” Amy said as I gave her a confused look
“You have my mom’s number?”
“No. I would just call off your phone…”
“oh.”
“Idiot.” Tobin joked as we decided to get up and head down to the meeting.
When we walked into the room, it seemed somewhat tense which caused me to look around in confusion. There was something off, but I couldn’t quite place it. I didn’t notice that the other three had left me standing by myself before I noticed I was alone. I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to internally scream as I came face to face with Christie Rampone. She gave me a smile as Kate Markgraf came up from behind her.
“You must be one of the rookies!” Kate said as I nodded my head.
Yeah. I’m (Y/N) Torres!” I held out my hand as they both smiled. They shook my hand as Christie seemed to think for a moment.
“Left back right?” I nodded my head as she grinned. “Great!”
“I love when defenders get added to the team.” Kate said as I laughed.
“Come on. You can have a seat with us.” I followed them taking a seat next to them and Heather Mitts. I was surrounded by some incredible defenders and I was having a hard time not losing my shit. Behind me sat my other three friends who had been joined by Ali Krieger and Heather O’Reilly. Tobin gave me a wide-eyed look as I nodded my head. We were both a little starstruck.
Once I sat down though, I noticed why the room had seemed so tense. It was obvious that not many people were making an effort to sit with Hope Solo. I would be an idiot to not know about the drama that had gone on at the last world cup. There were many conflicting stories about what happened afterwards, but the message that not everyone was pleased with the goalkeeper was loud and clear at this moment.
I stared at her for a moment noticing Carli sitting next to her before turning my head towards Pia who had just entered the room. The team meeting seemed to go by quickly as we talked about camp expectations and what she wanted to see from the team. She seemed to emphasize that she didn’t care about team drama and that she was focused on putting out the best team to get the best results which was something I respected.
After the meeting, we had about half an hour to get our stuff together before we would go for our first training session. Tobin and I had already agreed to be bus buddies because we didn’t know anyone else. Though, we were given advice from HAO to wait until everyone else got on the bus to figure out which seats weren’t taken. HAO also said that we needed to not be afraid during the practice session because no one else was going to go easy on us.
The training session seemed to come and go, and I felt good about my performance. Kate and Christie both seemed impressed with me. So did Pia which was a great feeling. My highlight of the session came when I was able to lock down Abby Wambach which was the most surreal feeling in the world. She is one of the best forwards in the world and I successfully managed to stop her attack.
The rest of the day was pretty chill and ended with us hanging out with some of the vets. We had got dinner with them and they seemed to like me which was a major plus. I know that off-field chemistry is just as important as on-field chemistry, so I needed to make a good impression with them.
“With your skills, I am seriously surprised that Berkeley didn’t make it farther in the season…” Abby said as I shrugged my shoulders.
“I can only do so much in the defense. Our forwards are incredible though. It just happened to be an unlucky season.” I said shrugging my shoulders as they all nodded their heads.
“Still you have a lot of great skills and the potential to grow is there.” Christie said as I grinned at her.
“Thank you! That means a lot.”
I headed back to my room with Tobin and them as I tried not to freak out from the excitement of the day.
“The vets really seem to like you.” Amy said, giving me a slightly impressed look.
“Probably because she almost killed Abby during practice.” Tobin said with an amused look as I shrugged
“I was doing my job.” I laid down on my bed as I looked over at them.
“Exactly why they like you.” Lauren said as I nodded my head. They both then said goodnight leaving me and Tobin there. We didn’t stay up much longer as we knew the next few days would be hectic, and sleep would be a necessity.
The next morning, we got down to breakfast as we made our plates, we looked around for a place to sit. I noticed some empty seats next to Hope and Carli as I moved to make my way over towards them. We were intercepted by Kate though who brought us towards a table with her and some of the others.
“That would have been a mistake.” She said to me as I stared at her.
“Sitting with Hope?” Tobin asked as I noticed some of the other girls get uncomfortable looks on their faces.
“Yeah. We typically try not to sit with people who throw their teammates under the bus.” She responded as I stared at her.
“Okay I get that.” Tobin responded as I nodded my head. I looked over where she was sitting noticing that truly everyone minus Carli was avoiding that table like the plague.
I couldn’t help but feel bad for the goalkeeper. It probably didn’t feel good to have everyone being rude to you and not talking to you in these kinds of moments. The next couple days I felt my interest in Hope continue rising as I felt the need to get to know the goalkeeper.
“Hey, we got invited to go to dinner with some of the other girls. You up for it?” Tobin asked as I thought about it before shaking my head.
“I’m not really feeling it.” I lied as she nodded her head. “You guys go without me. I think I am just going to chill here.”
“Okay text us and maybe we can bring you something back.”
“Okay.” I said as she turned to leave with Lauren and Amy. I waited a few minutes before exiting the room and walking towards the goalkeeper’s room. I knocked on the door and waited until it was pulled open.
“Hey” I said as Hope stood there giving me an odd look.
“Hi”
“I was just wondering if you wanted to hangout.” I said cautiously as she raised an eyebrow at me.
“What are you doing here kid?”
“I want to…hangout?”
“Why?” she gave me a skeptical look as I tried to come up with something that didn’t make me sound stupid.
“I don’t really know to be honest. I just…wanted to get to know you. I like to be friends with my teammates.”
“I am almost positive you’ve been given the warning on being friends with me.”
“I have and I don’t really care.” She gave me a surprised look as I continued. “I am not going to let them decide who I can and can’t be friends with and I want to be your friend. I have a lot of respect for you.”
“Come on in.”
I followed her into the room where she and Carli were hanging out. The following hours were actually a ton of fun as she seemed to open up with me just a little bit. It was mainly stories about the stupidest things we have done during a game.
“I swear…I didn’t see her coming.” I laughed as Hope and Carli gave me amused smiles.
“Did she at least score the penalty?” Hope asked as I shook my head. They both laughed at the answer.
“No, she didn’t…I felt really bad because I tripped her, and she didn’t score, and I was definitely responsible for the horrible game she was having.” This only seemed to cause them to laugh harder as I tried to keep my own composure.
“Jesus, I haven’t laughed like that in a while. I can definitely see why the other vets like you.” Carli said as I nodded my head.
“You’re their new favorite.” Hope gave me a look as I shrugged. “They like your style. You play without fear and you seem to be a natural leader.”
“I just play my game…” I said honestly causing me to earn smiles from both girls. I soon departed and headed back to my room feeling like I had made a successful connection with both players. When I entered my room, I found Tobin and them who all looked a little worried.
“Thank god! Where were you?” Amy asked as I stared at them with a confused look.
“Chill out. I went to go hangout with Hope.”
“Wait…what?” Tobin asked as I looked at them.
“What?”
“Didn’t Kate say to stay away from her?” Tobin gave me a look as I sighed. “I mean…I know you like to beat by your own drum, but she is the captain of the team.”
“Tobin’s right. You just got here. Now is not the time to be making waves.” Amy said as I stared at them.
“No one deserves to be shunned or abandoned.” I said as Lauren gave me a sympathetic look. She was the only one of the three who knew about my dad and how he had walked away from me.
“Let’s just let it go.” She said, grabbing Amy’s arm. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
“You’re crazy.” Tobin said as I rolled my eyes.
“What else is new?”
The next day we went down for breakfast as I quickly made my plate. Tobin had beelined it for the table we had been sitting at with the vets as I eyed the table with Hope and Carli. I moved towards the table with the vets before making my way towards Carli and Hope. They both seemed a little surprised by my presences but smiled when I sat down. A glance at the other tables told me my decision had shocked everyone. I didn’t know if my eyes were deceiving me but there seemed to be a few looks of respect from certain players as I continued my conversation with Hope.
I didn’t miss how unenthusiastic Kate was about me after that. Though, she was the only one who really seemed to treat me differently. Or at least to my face she was the only one to treat me differently.
“I think you’re making a mistake.” Amy said as I looked at her.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, I don’t doubt Hope is an amazing person, but you just got on this team. Do you really think putting your reputation on the line like this is worth it?”
“I love your concern for me, but it’s my own choice. Hope is a great person and you guys would know that if you got to know her a little better. I’m not saying we are best friends, but she is a good teammate and a good friend.”
I went back to doing my homework as Amy continued nagging me about putting distance between Hope and I. Lauren and Tobin eventually got her to back off a little as I finished up my assignments.
By the end of the camp, I had managed to start in two of the three games during the Four Nations Tournament. I was a sub for the third game, but I was proud of getting some playing time. My debut came against Canada, which was a rough and physical game, but Christie had praised me afterwards for holding my own against them.
I hated to admit that I was somewhat relieved to be going home after the tournament because I didn’t want to deal with the drama that came with simply being friends with someone. The ride home was long since we were coming back from a foreign country. I only had like two days to get all my stuff and get back to the dorms, but that didn’t stop my family from taking me to dinner to celebrate my first caps.
“I’m going to miss you.” My mom said as we pulled into the parking lot next to my dorm.
“I’ll miss you too.” I said as she gave me a sad look.
“My baby is all grown up.”
“Mom” I complained as she laughed. We said our goodbyes before I grabbed my bags and headed up to my room.
It took me a little longer because I did have so much stuff, but the room was empty when I got back. I know Blake was in her classes and wouldn’t be back for another hour, so I had time to settle all my stuff. I laid down enjoying the quiet for a few minutes before deciding to take a shower and get comfortable. By the time I was finishing up my hair, I heard the door be opened.
“Well look what we have here…” I said as Blake turned and gave me a wide-eyed look. She then practically tackled me into a hug as I reciprocated.
“I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow?” she asked as I gave her a confused look.
“No, I am back today!” I said with a giant grin as she hugged me tighter.
“Dude you have no idea how much I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
We decided to go for some food for dinner which was fun before we stopped by the coffee shop to get some pastries.
“Holy shit.” Katie said coming over and giving me a hug. “You’re back”
“I’m back” I said as she smiled at me.
“(Y/N)!” I turned just in time to catch Alex who had quite literally tackled me into a hug. I grinned holding the forward close as she held on tight to me. “I missed you”
“I missed you too”
“oh my god! You have three caps with the national team!” she said, giving me an excited look.
“Oh my god! I know!” I grinned as she laughed.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite employee.” I turned and smiled at Tati who reached behind her and then handed me a piece of paper with my schedule on it. “Welcome back”
“Thanks.” I said with a slight grimace as I stared at my schedule.
“I’ll change it when you get called up again.”
“Okay.” I said as I continued talking and filling everyone in on what camp was like.
The next few days were spent getting back into my routing of school. I had spent a few hours each day talking to Christen which was nice. She was so excited to hear about my time on the national team and I tried to give her as much detail as possible without spilling all the drama out to her. She in turn told me about how Kelley and she were officially just a friends with benefits deal because there weren’t really any feelings involved anymore. I wasn’t thrilled but it was better than them being in a relationship. Things were finally going back to normal which I couldn’t be more grateful for.
“Are you even listening to me?” I turned towards Tati as I shook my head.
“Honestly, No. I am so tired.” I said as she rolled her eyes at me.
“Aren’t we all?” I nodded my head a little earning a smile from her.
“Well, now that I kind of have your attention I want to tell you about this date I went on recently…”
“Date?” I gave her a look as she gave me a confused expression. “Who did you go on a date with?”
“That guy from my sociology class? You don’t remember? I told you about him a while ago.”
“No, I…I just thought there was something with you and Alex…” I said as she gave me a look.
“Look, I know she’s your friend…and she is super cool. I love Alex to death, and I know she has a huge crush on me. She isn’t really trying to hide it, but it’s probably never going to happen. She’s sweet and all, but not what I am looking for right now.”
“Tati…if you know then why haven’t you said that to her? Like, you say you know she likes you then why not tell her that? Cause like…now it just looks like your stringing her along…”
“I’m not. I just don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“It’s going to happen regardless though and the longer you wait the worse it will hurt.” I said as she frowned at me.
“You’re right and I will tell her eventually.” She said as a customer came to the counter earning Tati’s full attention. I stood there for a moment having an internal debate with whether I should talk to Alex or not.
On one hand, it’s not my business. On the other hand, Alex is one of my closest friends and I would feel terrible about her getting hurt. That seemed to be the debate going on in my head for a while as the weeks continued. Tati swore up and down that she was going to talk to Alex, so I tried not to think too much about it.
I tried to focus on other things like the national team. I hadn’t been called into the February training camp due to my school schedule but had been told that I would be going to the Algarve cup in March. I was ecstatic because it was another major opportunity to prove myself and to prove that I belonged on the international stage.
I had left school about four days before the tournament would start. The tournament felt like a breeze and I was trying not to get cocky but from what I was hearing I was definitely making a good case for myself for the Olympics. Hope had told me that if I got invited to the Olympic Qualifying tournament and got playing time during it that I had a good chance of making the Olympic roster which is what I had started to work for since my call up in January.
Returning to school after winning the Algarve Cup was a dream, Alex had begged me for all the details which I had given up willingly because I knew how badly she wanted to be called up. I had learned pretty quickly that Tati still hadn’t told her about her feelings which made me feel bad again.
“This party isn’t just any party. It’s the party before spring break which means none of us have anything to lose.” Katie argued as I stared at her with an incredulous look.
“You hear yourself, right?” Blake asked as I laughed.
“Come on! We all need to go! What better way to celebrate life then to go get drunk!”
“I don’t see that logic.” I admitted as she frowned at me.
“Alex help me…”
“It’s going to be fun.” Alex said as I laughed.
“That’s very convincing.” She grinned at me as I sighed. “Okay. I’ll go.”
“No!” Blake said as Katie jumped up.
“Yes! Come on Blake…”
“No.”
“Come on.” I said as she turned towards me. “It could be fun.”
She stared at me for a moment before rolling her eyes.
“Fine.” I smiled as Katie and Alex high fived each other. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” she rolled her eyes as I smiled at Alex and Katie. This should be an interesting night.
Alex POV SWITCH
I watched (Y/N) and Blake bicker over whether it was a good idea to come to the party as we walked our way towards the destination. I laughed when Blake reached out to smack (Y/N) only to be blocked by Katie.
“You’re complaining about nothing!” (Y/N) said laughing at Blake. “This could be the best night of your life and you’re over here complaining.”
“I hate going out. You know this.”
“It’s not bad to come out of your shell every once in a while.”
They continued bickering as Katie eventually gave up and kept pace with me letting them walk ahead of us.
“So, how are you feeling about tonight?” I turned towards Katie who gave me a supportive smile.
“I am incredibly nervous.” I admitted as my roommate gave me a sympathetic look.
“Look, you just have to march in there and give her the most seductive look you can and tell her that you belong together, but you know in a more put together way.”
“That’s really helpful.” I said as she gave me a bright smile.
“It’s going to work out and who knows…if it doesn’t there are a ton of other people here to hook up with.”
“That does not make me feel better.” I said as she shrugged her shoulders.
We arrived at the party which was in full swing. Katie didn’t hesitate to walk in as (Y/N) stood watching with an amused smile as Blake groaned entering the building. I laughed following them in and looked around at the mostly drunken crowd. We got drinks and danced. I played a couple rounds of beer pong with Katie as my partner before I decided I had enough. I went back into the house and noticed that quite a bit of time had passed. I noticed Blake actually seemed to be having a good time which was great. I was hoping she would have a good time. I spotted (Y/N) talking with some people as I made my way over towards her.
“Hey stranger.”
“Hey yourself.” She smiled as I grinned at her.
“Are you having fun?”
“I am actually…I haven’t had fun like this in a hot second.”
“I’m glad. I was worried.”
“You don’t need to worry about me Alex.” She said as I shook my head.
“I care about you. Obviously, I will worry.”
She laughed as she looked down at her phone that was in her hand. I glanced around noticing Tati talking with some people as I decided that this was the moment.
“Hey, I got to take this.” She said as I nodded my head turning to exit the room.
I took a big drink of the cup in my hand before walking over to where Tati was. She smiled upon seeing me as I tried to get closer to her.
“Hey!” I yelled over the music as she gave me a grin.
“Hey!” she yelled back. I spent a few minutes dancing with her before deciding that I needed to just do it.
“Can I talk to you?” she nodded her head as we went to where it was a little quieter.
“What’s up?” she asked as I stared at her.
“Okay so…I need to tell you something.” I said as she gave me a cautious look.
“Alex wait…”
“No, I just need to get this out…” I said as she gave me a look I couldn’t read. “Since I met you, I have thought you’re incredible. You make me laugh and smile. My heart beats really fast when I am around you and I think about you all the time. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but I feel like I might die if I don’t tell you that I am completely in love with you Tati.”
She gave me a sad look as I felt my stomach drop a little. I didn’t like that look. She looked around a little before letting out a little sigh. There seemed to be something close to sympathy in her eyes as she looked down and then back up.
“Alex…I think you’re an incredible person.” I felt my eyes begin to water as I recognized the beginning words of a rejection. I looked away from her as she reached for my hand. “I just don’t think…”
“No, it’s okay. I am so stupid for even mentioning this to you. I shouldn’t have done that. Don’t worry. It’s stupid and I…I’m just going to go.” I turned to leave the house as I felt Tati reach for my arm which I angrily yanked away.
(Y/N) POV SWITCH
“Yeah, I will have to catch you up when I see you next.” I said, smiling as Christens laugh came through the phone.
“Yeah, I should be going though for real…Kelley is waiting.”
“Well, we don’t want that…” I said somewhat sarcastically. “Goodbye Christen.”
“Bye.” I put my phone in my pocket as I sighed. Christen and Kelley deciding to try a relationship again has most definitely ruined my night. I turned to head back into the house when the door flew open and out came a sobbing Alex.
“Alex please wait…!” Tati yelled running after her as I immediately stepped into Alex’s path catching her. She went to push me away but stopped when she saw it was me.
“Hey” I said softly as she angrily tried to wipe her tears. “What happened?”
“Alex please…” Tati begged as I took a second to read the situation. I sighed pulling Alex in for a hug as I sent a glare towards Tati. She frowned as Alex held onto me tightly.
“I didn’t mean to…”
“It doesn’t matter.” I said as Alex buried her head into my shoulder. “It’s done. I’ll get her home.”
I moved to start walking Alex towards our rooms as I continued to let her cry. She seemed to calm down the further we got from the party. She was just silent by the time we reached her room. She opened the door as I stared at her. She walked over towards her bed and sat down leaning against the wall. I moved to sit next to her as we sat quietly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked as she sniffled a little.
“I am such an idiot.” She said as I looked at her.
“No, you’re not.” I said as she nodded her head.
“Yes, I am…I should have seen that she didn’t feel the same way.”
“Anyone can make that mistake Alex…” I said as she looked at me.
“I should have seen it.”
“It doesn’t make you stupid. It just means you have a big heart…and that you are a risk taker. You put yourself out there and it didn’t work out. You know sometimes it just doesn’t work out.”
“I wanted it to work so badly.”
“I know.” I said taking her hand in mine. “For what’s it's worth, I am so proud of you.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before she spoke.
“Have you ever been in love?” I held my breath for a moment as I thought of a reply.
“I have…” I said as she looked at me.
“What happened?”
“I couldn’t find the courage to tell her that I loved her and now she is with someone else who is making her happy.”
“I’m sorry.” Alex mumbled as I shook my head.
“Don’t be. I would rather she be happy with someone else than not be happy at all. All I care about is the smile on her face. As long as it’s there…well I’m happy.”
“Even if you can never be with her…” I looked down at that as I thought about it…
“Even if I can never be with her…” I said, turning to look at Alex who was already focused on me.
“I wish getting your heart broke didn’t suck so bad.”
“I know.” I said bringing my hand up to away a tear that was falling from her eye. “My mom always used to tell me that getting your heart broken was necessary sometimes…because it means that when you do find the person you're supposed to be with…you appreciate them that much more. I promise you Alex…you will get through this. You have a heart of gold and you are so freaking beautiful. It is truly insane. Anyone would be lucky to get to be with you and when you find the person you are meant to be with you won’t remember how much it hurt to get your heart broken.”
She stared at me for a moment before surging forward and attaching her lips to mine. Her hands came up to my face as I was too shocked to move. She pulled back breathing heavily as I stared at her for a moment. It was as if time stood still before I moved forward catching her lips into another kiss.
I pushed her back slightly as she laid down pulling me on top of her. Her legs wrapped around my waist holding me in place as I placed kisses down her jaw and to her neck. Her hands were gripping the back of my shirt as she pulled at it. I sat up and pulled my shirt off as she quickly discarded hers as well. I hovered above her as her lips stayed inches from mine.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.”
To Be Continued…
#uswnt imagine#uswnt imagines#USWNT#christen press imagine#christen press imagines#christen press#alex morgan imagine#Alex Morgan#alex morgan imagines
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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seven
If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag
August 24th, 2000
Remy gripped one of his arms with the other as he stood at the threshold of his new dorm room in college as his mother whined and wailed and generally put on a display of the overly-attached, they-grow-up-so-fast mother. He stood there with an awkward half-smile on, waiting for her to finish her spiel as she crushed him in a hug, and then made her excuses to leave.
His dad was a lot less emotional, giving him a simple smile and a, “Make us proud, son,” before he was gone.
“Your parents are quite the pair,” his new roommate said from inside the dorm.
“Tell me about it,” Remy grumbled, closing the door. “I’m so glad I get to be away from them for a while.”
November 1st, 2000
Remy woke up with a killer headache as someone opened the blinds. “Ugh, d’you have to do that?!” he griped, not opening his eyes and turning away from the window.
A voice, that decidedly did not sound like his roommate, laughed. “Oh, yeah, the hangover has set in. Do you need some ibuprofen?”
Remy’s eyes shot open, and he turned to face Emile, who was still standing in front of the window. He squinted and grimaced. “Ugh. Please?”
Emile silently passed Remy a pill bottle and some water. Remy grunted his thanks after he swallowed. “Ugh. What happened last night?”
“You got pretty drunk is what happened,” Emile said. “You could barely stand by the end of the night.”
Remy groaned and fell back onto the bed. Honestly, sleeping more sounded pretty good right about now.
“Hey, no, we gotta get breakfast, Rem,” Emile laughed. “I know you only have afternoon classes, but you need to eat.”
“Mmph. Says who?” Remy asked.
“Says the shrink-in-training who knows a balanced diet is a key factor to maintaining good mental health,” Emile responded matter-of-factly. “Come on, up. I doubt you’ll be the only one arriving for breakfast in what you slept in last night.”
Remy got off the bed, swaying ever-so-slightly. “Ugh, hangovers are nasty,” he grumbled.
And, of course, to make things worse, Emile looked immaculate; the only thing that could be considered “out of place” was his hair, and that wasn’t out of place so much, because his curly mop could never be tamed. Remy felt like a mess, probably looked like a mess, and Emile looked ready to go to work wherever he might end up. “I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?” Remy asked.
“Embarrassing by your standards, or mine?” Emile asked, letting Remy outside the dorm room.
“Mine,” Remy said, wincing as the sounds of the second floor dorms filled his ears.
“Well, you talked about an old stuffed animal you used to have named Bones,” Emile said with a shrug.
“Oh, I almost forgot about Bones,” Remy said. It wasn’t quite true, but he had almost put the hurt of his mind, at the very least. “Anything else?”
Emile hummed. “Not that I can think of?”
“No talk about crushes or anything?” Remy asked.
Emile laughed. “No, not that I can think of.”
“Okay, good,” Remy sighed. “I had a crazy dream last night where I said I would date you, and I wasn’t sure if I had actually just been drunk.”
“No,” Emile said, shaking his head. He stared forward as they waited for the elevator. “Just a dream, Remy, nothing to worry about. Unless, of course, you believe that means you secretly do have a crush on me.”
Remy laughed. “Oh, as if! You’re so not my type,” he lied. He wasn’t even aware he had a type before today, but clearly, with George in high school and now Emile, he was into the nerds and the geeks. Emile wasn’t full-blown crush, not yet, but he was certainly up there on Remy’s potentials. And when a geek trumped the members of the football team or the swim team, you knew you had a problem.
Emile laughed a little. “Are you sure? Brainiacs are the future!”
“You’re cute, Emile, don’t get me wrong,” Remy said, as the elevator doors opened and the two walked in to find two other people already waiting. “Just not my type. Personality-wise.”
“So what is your type?” Emile asked, grinning. “I might be able to set you up.”
“Ah, no thanks,” Remy said. “Friends are enough for me right now.”
“And later?” Emile asked. “If you decide you want to look for someone?”
Remy blew out a breath. “I’ll go up to whoever I like and say, ‘Hey, I’m going thousands of dollars into debt to get this one paper certificate that won’t guarantee me a job but I was told to get anyway. Want to suffer together?’”
Emile laughed as they left the elevator. “Well, that’s an original pickup line, don’t get me wrong,” he said. “But seriously, what do you plan on doing after this semester?”
“What do you mean?” Remy asked.
“Well, midterms are like...next week, Remy,” Emile pointed out.
“Wait, what.”
“Yeah, they’re next week,” Emile repeated, as ice entered Remy’s bloodstream. “Did you forget?”
“Yeah,” Remy said, voice pitched an octave and a half too high. “Oh man, like, I’ve been saving all my cash from the job to pay for the next semester, but I don’t know if it’s going to be enough. I might have to take out more loans than I thought. Oh man. Oh no.”
Emile put a hand on Remy’s arm. “Hey, deep breaths, Rem. Don’t want to go into another panic attack.”
Remy made a pained noise that roughly translated to too late. He tried to breathe, but his chest felt far too tight. He couldn’t, like, at all.
Emile led him to the cafeteria, by which time Remy’s brain had finally sputtered to life again. “I can’t do this,” he mumbled. “I can’t...I can’t...I can’t do this.”
“Hey, Rem, you’ll do fine,” Emile said. “You said yourself you know everything in your classes!”
“No. No, I mean I can’t do this,” Remy said, waving his hands around the cafeteria. “I can’t do college. Not for three and a half more years. Emile, it’s going to kill me. I’m going to die if I keep trying to go to school. I’m gonna grow bored, or I’m gonna grow even worse mental health-wise than however shaky that is right now. I can’t do that. I can’t stand it here. College...can and will kill me.”
Emile visibly swallowed as they both went over to the waffle maker and Remy went first, pouring the batter into the waffler and closing it tight. “Then you really shouldn’t be going to college, Remy. If it’s hurting you, then definitely do not keep coming here.”
Remy sighed. He knew Emile had a point. He knew that. But still... “My parents—”
“—Under no circumstances will be your excuse to stay in a place that is literally going to kill you,” Emile said sternly. “If this is going to drive you to jump off a building, or hang yourself, or do something stupid so you go out as a martyr, then don’t keep doing it.”
Remy stared at Emile in shock and confusion until the waffler dinged. He grabbed the waffle, grabbed whipped cream, and sprinkles, and started making his signature mess of a breakfast. “This is going to come across as really insensitive,” he warned Emile. “But...you genuinely care. Why?”
Emile poured waffle batter in the waffler silently before sighing. “I’ve lost too many friends to suicide already.”
“Friends? As in, plural?” Remy asked.
“Yes, Remy. Friends as in plural. High school was not a kind place. Nor was middle school, for that matter, but high school was the final straw for both of them,” Emile said. “Almost lost a third, too. Walked in on her popping pills like they were after-dinner mints.”
“I—” Remy didn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry.”
“At least I caught the final one in time,” Emile said with a bitter smile. “She didn’t speak to me for a long while after that. Emailed me right before I went off to college, thanking me. She had finally found medication that actually worked for her. Didn’t get a chance to see her before I left, but we’ve been talking about seeing each other over winter break.”
“I hope you get that chance,” Remy said.
“Me too,” Emile sighed. “But Remy, please. If college will kill you, drop out of college. Your parents do not take priority over your mental health. What’s keeping you from dropping out, other than your parents opinions?”
“Finding a place to stay,” Remy said.
“I’ll help you find a roommate who can pay rent, I know a few people around campus who are desperate to live nearby but not in the dorms. What else?”
“Money for food, transportation,” Remy said.
“If you’re not paying for college you should have enough money so that you can buy the food to get you through, even if you no longer have a meal plan. We can get you a bike, or figure out the bus routes needed for you to get to Starbucks to work,” Emile said. “And if necessary there’s other options around the city that I know are hiring.”
Remy had never seen someone angrily pour syrup on a waffle before, but watching Emile do just that was an experience. “Emile...why would you do this for me? Like, I get the whole wanting me to drop out so I get to be your friend still and I don’t wind up dead thing, but that doesn’t mean you have to help me figure everything out.”
“I’m your friend, Remy. Of course I’m going to help you,” Emile said. “That’s what friends do. They help each other.”
“But...but this feels like going above and beyond,” Remy said, wincing as someone shouted something unintelligible across the cafeteria. “Like, most friends support their other friends’ decisions, but you’re actually mapping out how I would live if I were to genuinely drop out.”
“Friends can and should help you prepare for the future if you need help, or even just want help. If they’re able to offer help, they should, in my opinion,” Emile said.
They moved further into the cafeteria to eat, and Remy was thankful that Emile chose one of the darker parts of the cafeteria, away from the windows and the sunroof. “What’s going above and beyond, then?” Remy asked.
Emile shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think there is an ‘above and beyond’ with friendships, but if you need a threshold, how about...moving in with you and getting a part-time job so you can afford the rent and food?”
“That’s definitely above and beyond,” Remy said.
Emile turned thoughtful, poking at his food. “Is it, though, actually?”
“What do you mean?” Remy asked, frowning and taking a bite of waffle.
“I mean, that’s something I could definitely do. It sounds like a good idea, actually,” Emile said.
Remy choked on his waffle piece, before coughing violently and swallowing the rock that had returned to his mouth. “You serious? I thought...I thought you would want to like...see your friends over the holidays, and your folks. You seem like you’d be close to your folks.”
“Well, I can still see them over the holidays,” Emile reasoned. “But this just means I wouldn’t be moving back home over the summer and then moving again when it comes to sophomore year. I can visit my parents without having to live in their house. We could get a two-bedroom apartment, split the rent and food over the summer, and I could handle the rent during the school year while you worry about food. It could work.”
“Emile,” Remy said. “You’re literally saying you would move in with me. For no other reason than I can’t afford my own place on part-time minimum wage.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Emile said. “It would help me save on room and board, too. Less student loans for me.”
Remy laughed incredulously. “So, is this it? Is this a thing that we’re doing? You’re going to move in with me? I thought it’d be one of your friends.”
“Well, most of my friends would go home in the summer, when you need the most help,” Emile reasoned. “And besides, do you honestly think you could get along with any of my friends long enough to actually share living space with them? I know that your own roommate bugs you a whole lot, because you spend so much time in my room, where you don’t have to deal with anyone but me. And if we can stand each other most days when we don’t have classes and you don’t have to go to bed, yet, I think we can handle living in a place at a point in time where you’re going to work and I’m going to school and going to work. I’ll have to talk to my parents about it, of course, but they aren’t going to say no. They just need to know why my tuition is less than it used to be.”
“So...that’s a yes?” Remy asked.
“Yes,” Emile said with a grin. “You drop out of college, and we move in together.”
Remy whistled under his breath. “Okay, then,” he breathed.
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thunderstruck ; part one
lazarus, or the return of jack kelly
Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 1,651 Dedications: a huge shoutout to my gf, beta reader, and number one fan @mistyw273, and to @dimenovelcowboy for supporting me endlessly. tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @santa-fe-maniac @pulitzers-world @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway @verified-dumbass @jewishdavidjacobs @agentsnickers @thetruthabouttheboy Author’s Note: hey readers! i want to start by saying thank you so much for all the support and interest so far—i was honestly not expecting to get so much feedback with just the introduction but i'm really thrilled so many people are here for the ride! i figured i would go ahead and put part one up; this is the only back-to-back update i'll be doing, but i wanted to have more than the prologue out there. from this point forward i'm going to try bi-weekly updates on tuesdays and fridays (that's tentative and subject to change depending on how things carry on, though!). again, thank you for your interest and i really really appreciate the feedback, it honestly means the world to me. with that, let's get on with part one!
read it on ao3
five months later.
JACK DOESN’T KNOW WHEN he started running, and doesn’t know where to stop.
Right now the world is this hazy, deafening thing. The streets loop endlessly around him, too bright and too loud, a mix of over-saturated colors and sounds he can’t pull apart. In the middle of it all he feels as if he’s drowning. He’s drugged up to his eyes, this much he can tell—there’s little else that he’s aware of, though, except for his feet pounding against the pavement and this base, animalistic instinct in the back of his brain telling him to go. To run and run and keep running.
So he does. Buildings and road signs and people dissolve into background noise as he tears through the streets. Someone is after him; as disoriented as he is, he’s sure of it, and it’s that hot rush of fear that keeps him going more than anything else. A spike of adrenaline pushing him forward.
Maybe he’s lost them miles ago, but it’s not until the moment he thinks his legs will give out underneath him that he collapses against the back wall of an alleyway, sputtering for a breath. His lungs burn and he feels dizzy, but Jack pushes past the blurred images in his head and the low ringing in his ears to catalog what he knows. His name is Francis—no. He swallows dryly and starts again. His name is Jack Kelly. He’s eighteen, maybe nineteen, now, depending on how much time has passed. He’s an art student, and a superhero, and there was a fire, and then—
And then everything fills up with static and the feeling of hands on his skin and this harsh, chemical smell. His stomach turns.
Jack hates feeling like this, like he’s been separated from his own thoughts. The lack of control that comes with the clouded figures where his memories should be is enough to make him vulnerable in a way he hasn’t felt in years, exposed like a copper wire that’s been stripped of its casing.
And the current—that’s gone altogether. There are silver cuffs biting into the skin of his wrists; the seam that held them together is broken along a jagged edge, but the slim band of green light lining them means they’re still suppressing his powers. Jack aches for the buzz of electricity to come back, needs them off. He twists his hands desperately and in doing so, makes his drug-addled brain suddenly aware of a cold piece of metal clenched in his fist.
He opens his palm. It’s a flash drive. His mind dredges up a fuzzy memory of ripping it from a computer port in what he thinks might have been a control room. He doesn’t know what it contains, but if he’d held onto it so desperately that it became second nature, then it must be important. He needs to find a computer, he thinks abruptly, and then stands up and immediately sways on his feet.
Okay—okay. Not yet, maybe. Before that, he needs food and water and rest. He needs the lodging house, except he has no idea where he is, and in the state he’s in, he barely knows which way is up. He needs—he needs to call Crutchie.
Jack is struck suddenly by the overwhelming desire to hear his pseudo-brother’s voice, strong enough that his chest physically hurts from it. It’s been—weeks, maybe? months?—the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other since they were kids. If he can get his hands on a phone and get Crutchie on the line, he thinks, then powerless and drugged or not, he’ll be okay.
It’s not much of a plan, but it’s a start. All he has to do is find a phone. This is easier said than done, though; there’s still a payphone booth left next to a nearby subway station, rusted from lack of use, but he doesn’t have any money. He’s aware of how he must look, a boy in tattered clothes with cloudy eyes and words slurred together, begging for change. More than one person threatens to call the police. Most of them just push him away. Jack feels his desperation pitching upward quickly, tightening in his throat.
When a stranger finally hands him a few quarters with a wary look, he’s not sure if it’s fear or pity or some combination of the two that makes her do it. He’s grateful all the same. He rushes over to the booth, blood roaring in his ears from the anticipation. His hands are shaking so hard that his fingers stumble over the keypad, but he knows Crutchie’s number by heart, is sure he could dial it in his sleep. It goes to voicemail and Jack shoves the receiver against his ear.
“Crutchie, it’s me—it’s Jack. Please pick up.”
When he slides the second quarter into the slot and calls again, it barely has a chance to ring.
“Jack is dead.” Crutchie’s voice comes through, wavering. Jack almost chokes on his relief.
“I’m not,” he says, and there’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and then a noise that sounds like a broken sob.
“No—”
“Crutchie, I’m here. It’s me. I’m not dead.”
“How…”
“I don’t know,” Jack says, truthfully.
“You—you can’t—fuck, Jack.” And in the middle of everything, Jack is caught off guard because Crutchie almost never swears. There’s a long quiet, broken by just the static-filled sound of Crutchie crying. Jack’s own cheeks are wet. “It’s been five months,” he gasps finally. “I thought—we all thought you died in that fire. Holy shit. Where have you been?”
Jack’s head spins. He hadn’t even realized how much time has passed. Five months...it’s June now, then, and the spring semester of classes is already over, and he’s nineteen, and there’s this gaping chasm of lost time in his head—
“—ck? Jack.”
He realizes that Crutchie is calling his name abruptly, and Jack blinks, trying to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, I-I’m here. I don’t—everything’s fuzzy, Crutchie, I don’t know what happened, where I’ve been—” His words trip and stumble over each other. “I’m gonna try and find my way back to the lodging house, I’ve just gotta—”
“No, no, wait, you can’t,” Crutchie cuts him off, suddenly fierce. Jack pauses.
“What do you mean?”
His response is quieter this time, tentative. Slow, like he’s walking on his toes. “Jackie...how much do you know about what’s been going on?”
Dread pools in Jack’s chest, hot and fast. For as long as they’ve known each other, he’s only heard Crutchie sound like this, scared and small and hesitant, a few times before. Something has gone deeply wrong; he knows it in an instant, maybe should have realized it even before now. “What is it, Crutchie?” he demands.
Crutchie takes a shuddering breath. “They said you set the fire,” he says, and Jack’s stomach plummets. “It was all over the news—they said the hospital wasn’t an accident, that Strike—that you—had planned the whole thing, did it on purpose.”
“No...” Jack feels nauseous, dizzy, sure in that moment that he’s going to be sick all over the pavement. His memories of the hospital brim with fear and heat and voices that echo in his skull, and the idea that the public believes he’s the cause of that, of all that death and destruction, hurting innocent people—he can’t stomach it. Doesn’t know how to.
“Jack, people were angry. Really angry. Not just at Strike—there was a whole new anti-super wave, worse than it’s ever been before, and now everyone thinks supers are dangerous and they started... taking people.” Crutchie’s voice goes even lower as Jack feels his heart crawl up into his throat. “They—we call them Snatchers, we think they’re in league with the police—they’ve surrounded the lodging house and swarmed half the city, dragging kids with powers off to someplace called the Refuge.”
Everything goes hot and sharp for a moment, a quick snap of recognition that burns like fire. Jack tastes metal in his mouth, chokes on it. “That’s where I was,” he says hollowly. He knows it even through the fogginess in his head.
“Oh, Jackie,” Crutchie begins, but Jack doesn’t let him finish.
“Are the others—is everyone okay? Race, Specs, Elmer—did they get taken?” The lodging house is a frequent stop for super kids who need a place to spend the night, but the three of them and Jack are the only permanent residents that have powers. If the Snatchers found them, they’d have been dragged off to the same fate that Jack has only just escaped. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Crutchie says yes.
“They’re holed up with Spot in Brooklyn,” Crutchie replies, and Jack lets himself exhale. “I haven’t been talking to them a whole lot, because they’re trying to stay under the radar, but the last time I heard from them, they were okay.” He gives a rattled sort of laugh, devoid of humor and more exhausted than anything. “Shit, Jackie. Everything fell apart without you.”
Jack passes a hand over his face, wants to cry. Wants to scream and tell Crutchie that he’s lost and drowned and terrified, that he feels more helpless than he’s ever been, that for all the time he’s spent playing hero he doesn’t know how to save anyone from this. Instead, though, he sets his jaw. “I’m gonna fix this, Crutchie,” he says, half-promise and half-prayer. He’ll find a way.
“Jack—” Crutchie begins, but what he’s going to say next Jack doesn’t find out. The timer clicks, and there’s a robotic female voice in place of Crutchie’s that tells him the call has timed out.
The line goes dead and then Jack is alone all over again, the vow he made weighing as heavy as the shackles on his wrists.
#THUNDERSTRUCK#newsies#newsies fanfiction#jack kelly#davey jacobs#katherine plumber#katherine pulitzer#jathvey#javid#jatherine#datherine#newsies the musical#livesies#fanfiction#writing#my writing#umanawrites
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Chapter 6 - Feels Like The First Time
Seattle Washington, February 13 1988
(Andi is 18, Chris is 23)
ANDI: "Andi... girl, come out with me. You stay in this freaking room all the time playing your guitar and you never come out with me to actually play, play y'know?"
Xana La Fuente stands in my bedroom of our small two bedroom apartment in downtown Seattle, facing my full length mirror that hung behind my bedroom door. She pulls up her long golden curls into a high ponytail on top of her head, and adjusts her black long sleeve crop top, turning in the mirror to check out her brand new black leggings . I'll never understand how she can wear the least amount of clothing in the dead of winter.
I had just moved to Seattle back in September, on a scholarship to Seattle University for a major in Marketing with a minor in Musical Performance. I wanted music to be my major but my father had convinced me to go for something more substantial, that would guarantee me a job to make good money since he couldn't bare to see me struggle with a musical career like he did. Even though I was reluctant to do so, I eventually agreed to apply for Marketing, since I could still use that in the entertainment field and still study music, my one and only vice, the thing that keeps me sane and centered, the only thing that keeps the time slips at bay.
I graduated from Etobicoke School For The Arts in Toronto with honors - early - and received a scholarship for two semesters at Seattle University. I worked my freaking ass off and it definitely paid off, especially since I've had no time slip episodes since that night of my parents fight.
I met Xana the day that I arrived in Seattle, in a café downtown while I was perusing the corkboard of ads for apartments available. We hit it off immediately and since we were both looking for a place, we decided to look for one together, that way it would help us both out with rent costs and what-not. She is the complete opposite of me - outgoing, energetic, fun, not shy whatsoever but we've become so close in the short while we've known each other. Considering the fact that I have no friends, which did make it easy to move to Seattle. I just hate being away from my father.
"Only because I'm not that great around people," I say as I flip my curls out of my face and go back to plucking the strings on my Desert Sunset Burst Gibson Les Paul, a remake of the original 1959 model that my father gave to me as my graduation present. When I opened the case, I outright cried and hugged him so hard. He spent his savings to get it for me since I was eyeing in the local guitar shop in downtown Toronto ever since I was 13 years old.
"Andi, it's ok... I mean everyone's a little shy most of the time, that's what whiskey is for. It gives you that courage that you wouldn't otherwise have. C'mon, come out with me and Andy," Xana pleads, placing her hands on her hips as she turns to face me.
"I don't know," I say as I continue to play away at the strings, my dark curls falling in my face.
"Y'know... I know someone who would be perfect for you, and we're also hanging out tonight after Andy's gig. Come on... come out with me. You always say 'no' so just this one time can you just say 'yes'?" Xana says as she drops to her knees, shuffling over to me with her hands together pleading. I glance at her as she does so, and giggle as I keep my guitar across my lap.
"Ok, ok...jeeze, I'll come out ok? You're so dramatic," I giggle.
"Uh huh and it always works," She laughs as she gets up from the floor. She then moves over to my closet and starts going through my clothes.
"Xana what are you doing?" I ask as I unplug the patch cord to my guitar and lean over to switch off my amp.
"I am looking for something for you to wear and - jeeze Andi, do you have anything that's not just ripped jeans and band shirts?" She says quickly flipping through the hangers as they squeak with each flick.
"What's wrong with what I wear?" I ask as I stand up from my bed and move over to set my beautiful Gibson down on it's stand.
"Nothing... as long as you plan on becoming a biker in the next coming months, it's perfect," Xana says still flipping through.
"Hey," I wasn't exactly hurt by that statement but I resent the fact that she's judging my beloved attire.
"Well... here we go, why have you been hiding this? It's perfect," Xana pulls out a little black mini 3/4 length sleeve lacy dress.
"I haven't been hiding it, I just haven't worn it yet," I say as I wrap up the patch cord.
"Ok, well you're gonna wear it tonight, and then you have to let me borrow it after cause it's freaking sexy,"
"It's like 10 degrees outside, I'll freeze," I say as I set the patch cord down on my amp.
"But dude, you'll look hot wearing it," Xana says and I giggle as she tosses the dress over to me.
*****
A short while later, I find myself standing in front of my full length mirror, in my little black lacy mini dress scrunching my damp dark curls with leave in conditioner to keep the frizziness away. I already finished my make-up - a black smoky eye, and once my curls look decent enough, I slap on my silver studded wrist cuff and move over to my bed to tie up my black soft leather Doc Marten's.
"How do I look?" Xana says bursting through the doorway to my bedroom, in the same black long sleeve crop top only this time she changed into a white mini skirt and let her golden curls fall down around her shoulders.
"Amazing," I say suddenly feeling self conscious.
"Thank you," She smiles and as soon as I stand up from my bed Xana's eyes practically pop out of her head.
"Holy fuck, Andi..."
"What? It's too short isn't it?" I say as I look down at myself, and pull down the bottom of my dress. It felt like it was barely covering my ass but when I look in the mirror, it's actually not that short.
"No, it's not that... it's just... damn he's gonna have a heart attack when you meet him,"
"When I meet who?" I ask.
"You'll see," She winks at me and disappears out of my bedroom.
"Xana, who am I meeting?" and I follow her, grabbing my leather jacket from my reading chair and close the door.
*****
The Central Tavern, Seattle Washington
"Ladies, ladies... welcome to the most amazing dressing room this side of Seattle,"
Andrew Wood opens the door, dramatically leaning against the door frame. His wild blonde hair all around him, wearing tight fitted ripped jeans and a Seattle Seahawks football jersey with a colorful scarf draped across his shoulders.
"Oh, babe," Xana smiles as she leans into him and places her lips to his.
The lead front man of the band Mother Love Bone, who looks like a mixture of David Lee Roth and Axl Rose with the flamboyancy of the former, takes her in his arms as they continue their 'greeting' while I stand behind Xana, feeling just slightly awkward.
"Hi Andi... how are you?" Andy says once Xana breaks away from him and he leans in to give me a hug.
"Hi," I say shyly, as I hug him back. I've pretty much grown close to Andy as well over the last few months since Xana practically has him over to our place almost every night. He is just the sweetest guy and perfect for Xana. I'm not even going to get into the fact that I can hear them in her room since our rooms are beside each other. That's usually my cue to turn up my guitar and pretend I don't hear anything.
"Damn, you're looking hot tonight though... what happened?" Andy says when he pulls away from me, his brown eyes glancing over me as Xana heads in. I shyly look down at myself and back up at him.
"I have no idea," I giggle and he laughs.
"What'd you think of the show? Was I entertaining enough? Did I live up to your expectations, given that you're such a goddess with that guitar of yours?" Andy says as he attempts his Elton John impersonation that he sometimes does.
"Um, thank you," I say shyly and he just looks at me breaking character.
"But yes, yes you always live up to my expectations, you know that," I giggle and he chuckles shaking his head at me.
"C'mon love, lets have a drink, what would you like?" Andy says taking my hand and leading me into the room.
"Um... Jack and Coke?" I'm not that much of a drinker, but I've pretty much figured out that Jack and Coke is my drink of choice. That sour Tennessee Mash just always hits the spot.
"You got it," He says and heads over to the mini bar fridge towards the back of the room to make some drinks.
"Hey guys! Has the party started yet?!"
Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard come through the door with a few other guys and girls following in with them. I have to say, that this room has become filled full of people quickly which once again made me quite nervous.
Ok, Andrea, just center yourself. You're fine.
"Yes it has, and you guys are the guests of honor," Andy says as he hands me my drink and I take a sip while everyone greets each other with laughter and smiles. Andy doing his usual dramatic and flirtatious welcoming, hugs each one of them as they enter the room.
"Chrissy!" Xana exclaims excitedly as she quickly runs over and wraps her arms around a very tall, dark and lean but toned, blue eyed Adonis with his dark curls flowing passed his broad shoulders.
"Hi Xana," He says, his voice mellow and deep, a coy smile spreading across his pouty lips. He breaks away from Xana, flipping his gorgeous curls out of his face and glances up to see me, unable to take my eyes off of him.
"I have someone for you to meet," Xana says sweetly taking his hand and leading him over to where I was standing. I could feel my heart start fluttering immediately as he came closer, those incredible blue eyes of his already flicking over my body. To calm myself, I take a sip of my Jack and Coke that Andy made incredibly strong but it's still so good.
"Chris, this is Andi... Andi, this is Chris Cornell... he's the amazing front man of Soundgarden," Xana introduces us and Chris smiles at me so sweetly, his eyes still wondering over my body and I'm wondering if the dress I'm wearing is somehow sending the wrong impression of me.
"Hi," He says so sweetly with a coy smile, his eyebrow raising slightly, his eyes looking right into mine.
"Hi," I say shyly, feeling my hands becoming clammy and my cheeks flushing to a pinky shade of red. At least I can pass the blushing off as just the alcohol hitting me.
"Soundgarden? Cool," I say trying to be sly about it.
"You've heard of us?" He asks.
"A little," I smirk.
"Andi here is an incredible guitar player ... she pretty much spends all day playing - "
" - Xana," I cut her off and raise my eyebrow at her. As much as I appreciate that she's trying to help the conversation, I didn't really want her to.
"Sorry, I was just... well anyways, I need another drink, JD Chris?" Xana turns asks him.
"Sure," He grins and I swear I thought I was going to faint.
"Green Label right?" Xana asks and makes her way over to the mini bar fridge.
"Uh huh," He says, pushing a few curls from his eyes and glances back at me while I take another sip.
"So um... you still have that '59 Sun Burst Gibson?" Chris asks raising his eyebrow at me, shifting a little on his feet, his silver ring attached to his necklace sparkling in the overhead lighting and for a moment I was confused.
How does he know I have that guitar? Xana must have told him.
"Um, yea I do," I say shyly and take another sip.
"I know you were um... so happy when you're dad surprised you with it," He says looking down at his feet for a moment, then back to my eyes.
What? I never told Xana that it was a gift from my dad.
Xana comes back and hands him his drink, she pats him on his bicep and heads over to Andy and the rest of the guys.
"Um, yea... how did you - ?" I start but he moves closer to me, leaning in and he whispers in my ear.
"I'm not really supposed to say this, 'cause you told me to go easy on you but... I'm so fucking happy you're here. I've missed you so much,"
With the smell of his incredible cologne lingering, I can feel the warmth from him and his voice sending shivers all over my body. I close my eyes for a moment as he moves away from me, taking a sip of his Jack and Coke. I flick my eyes open and he takes a sip of his drink, his blue eyes looking into mine.
He knows me already? Ok, Ok when did I time slip? The last time slip I had was back in the summer... did I slip without knowing? Damn, I would remember if I met him before I mean, dear fucking god he's absolutely gorgeous! We must know each other really well if he's missed me...
"You um, you look amazing by the way," He says, once again giving me that coy smile and taking another sip of his drink.
"Thank... you," I say and smile back pushing my curls behind my ear. I then move closer to him and lift myself up to whisper in his ear.
"I'm sorry, I don't remember um... meeting you before,"
"That's 'cause it hasn't happened yet... for you anyways," He whispers back.
I move away from him and take another sip of my drink, and he smiles. I smile back as we catch each other eyes once more, his glance embracing me in a comfort of familiarity though I haven't even experienced it yet.
*******************************************************************************************
#Time After Time#time travel#chris cornell#soundgarden#chris cornell fanfiction#soundgarden fanfiction#grunge#grunge fanfics#fantasy#mother love bone#andrew wood#my story#also on wattpad#also on ao3#alternate universe#spinoff
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+Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Jeon Jungkook
+Genre: rags to riches au, kind of college au, SFW, slow burn, WIP.
+Word count: ~2.2k (for this chapter)
+Chapter: Prologue | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | ?
+Summary:
“Funny how even in this ridiculously absurd situation, life had made Taehyung a third-wheel. Or a sixth.
If Bangtan Dry Cleaning was his fairy godmother, Jimin his little mouse, the jacket his magic dress and the club scene his ball, where the fuck was his prince charming?
A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.”
+Warnings: very cliché, very unrealistic.
+A/N: betaed by the amazing @shadowsremedy 💖
It all started innocently enough.
“I can’t believe August D and Hope are a few miles away from here, and I won’t be able to be in their general vicinity.” Jimin signed for the nth time after looking at his twitter feed.
Taehyung looked over at his friend, curious as to what had his friend in such a low spirit that night. “Why? Are they doing a gig somewhere around?”
“Even sadder.’’ He sighed again, putting his phone away and aggressively zipping up a garment bag. ”They’re hanging out at Octagon tonight, and well, Octagon’s cover to access the VIP lounge is 150,000 won, so completely unreasonable for my wallet. Plus, I’ve got nothing to wear that doesn’t scream ‘I’m a dirt poor struggling make up artist’. Even if I somehow found a way to get the money, I would never be allowed up to the VIP floor, not with Octagon’s dress code.”
Taehyung was about to morosely agree with his friend when the zipper of the garment bag he was zipping up got stuck on the Versace dress stored in it. Something hit him then. A beam of light brought things into a new perspective. Or maybe it was the fluorescent?
He was closing up shop in a place full of luxury clothes, some pieces more expensive than a whole year of his rent, and none of it would be missed by their owner for the night.
Bangtan Dry Cleaning, Gangnam’s all-time-favorite dry cleaner for VIPs to drop off their barely worn high-end brand pieces, was closed on the weekend. He and Jimin were the last men on scene since their boss usually left early on Friday nights.
Having the keys to the shop also meant having access to an unlimited amount of resources; clothes that could easily be borrowed for a few hours, refreshed over the weekend, and found undisturbed by their boss on Monday morning.
Ok, so maybe the idea had been slowly simmering inside of him for months.
“What?’’ Jimin pressed, pout deepening. “I know that look, Tae.”
“Say the clothing part was covered, would you have enough for the regular entry fees?”
His eyebrows pinched in confusion, trying to understand Taehyung’s point.
“I guess? But that would be useless, I doubt they’d hang out with the regular people. They’ll probably stick to the VIP section… ’’
Taehyung’s lips slowly crept into one of his signature mischievous smile.
“I think I have an idea.”
Jimin took one look at him and shook his head violently. “Last time you said that we had to hitchhike for four hours in the rain in the back of a pick-up truck to get back home. I might be poor, but I have a pretty face to maintain. You don’t get to have ideas anymore.”
“Jimin, just this once, you’ll have to trust me.”
About an hour later, dripping from head to toe in designer clothes carefully selected by Taehyung, both men exchanged perplexed looks.
“Is this what it feels like? To be rich? I’m pretty sure I could buy a year's worth of groceries with my outfit.” Jimin said, scratching his head with stiff movement, feeling out of place in his newly borrowed Gucci bomber jacket.
Taehyung was messing around with his blazer, a million-something-won Christian Pellizzari piece he had his eyes on since he’d seen it earlier.
“That jacket you’re wearing is worth 5 million won alone.” He said, then caught his friend’s reaction in the mirror.
“Five what now?” Jimin repeated, face going pale and body tensing up like any wrong movement could rip the jacket apart. “I want it off,” he said, voice quiet but with a cutting edge. “I’m not doing this.”
“Hey, look here,” Taehyung grabbed him delicately by the face, both hands framing his jaw. “Jimin. Jiminie. We’ll have to be careful, but everything will be fine. It’ll all be fine.”
“I’m not so sure. 5 million won, Taehyung. Million.”
“We’re literally the person to come to if anything gets stained. We got this. Plus, you look amazing! And if we play our cards right, you might get to meet with- with … Automne D and-“
Jimin couldn’t hold back a small snicker, finally relaxing a little. “Agust D.”
“Yeah, that's what I said. And, huh,-“
“Hope.”
“Yes, exactly. Now go get your makeup case, you got two faces to beat.”
While Jimin was counting the creased bills in his hands, making sure he had enough for the regular entree fees, Taehyung was observing the entrance of the club on the other side of the street. The line was slowly getting longer, while no one was let in. They would not make it inside anytime soon, his friend’s favorite musicians probably long gone by then, but Jimin didn’t seem to have noticed.
“Jiminie?”
“Hmm?” He said, not looking away from his small change he was now recounting.
“You remember those jeans I made for you, perfectly tailored to make you look bomb-ass-tic?”
“Why are you bringing that up, Tae? That was ages ago, I told you I was sorry I ripped them-”
“That’s not the point,” Taehyung said, now facing his friend. “Remember how you walked in those? Like the weight of the world’s beauty was pushing your chin up and making you look like a stuck up asshole?”
“A beautiful one, yeah.”
“I’m going to need you to walk like that again. Channel that beautiful stuck up asshole.”
“Ooohkay..?”
“Now, let’s go.”
“Wait, I think I’m missing a bill.”
“Put your money away. If we do this right, you won’t need it.”
His friend made an interrogative noise but pushed the money back into his (borrowed) pocket nevertheless.
Then, after making sure Jimin was following with his chin high as the sky, he started walking the walk, the same walk he taught the students that modelled for his collection at the traditional end of semester runaway.
Taehyung crossed the street without looking, ignoring Jimin’s muffled shrieks as he made his way to the entrance. The bouncer, a 6ft superhuman looking man, probably hearing all the commotion of cars braking and honking, was now making direct eye contact with him. Taehyung held it coldly, going for ‘unimpressed important person’. Celebrities were usually let in for free, right? So if they could manage to pass off as some idols, maybe they could make this plan work. New groups were popping up left and right these days; with their looks, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for people to assume Taehyung and Jimin were members of a group or something.
He knew his neutral face made him look kind of intimidating, all he was hoping for was for Jimin to not freak out.
Without a word, once the street was crossed and most of the people in line had gone silent looking at them, the bouncer took a step aside, opening the rope barrier and nodding them in.
Not risking a look back at his friend, Taehyung patted the bouncer’s shoulder on the way in, hoping the man wouldn’t notice the slight tremble of them.
The bouncer followed them in, sidestepping them to whisper something into the ear of a big burly man posted inside. Taehyung couldn’t hear anything over the loud music, but he didn’t like it.
He didn’t know how but they had somehow made it inside without paying, and all he needed now was to find a way to get into the VIP lounge. The look on the big burly man’s face though, it wasn’t good.
The bouncer went back to his post outside, leaving them with the literal tank standing in front of them and blocking their access to the rest of the club. He was studying them with a crooked eyebrow, something nonchalant in his look.
But if Taehyung was good at something, it was mirroring those kinds of looks.
“This way, sir.” He finally said after stretching the minutes, barely loud enough to be heard over the loud thumping of the bass playing somewhere further into the club. He felt Jimin’s cold hand grab at his wrist but followed nonetheless. The worst that could happen would be to be kicked out.
Which is not what happened.
They were led through a narrow hallway and up a little staircase, then through a door with another bouncer. And then, they were in a room with a whole wall made of glass that overlooked the main dance floor.
Sitting in the softened light of the luxurious lounge were a few people, conversing among each other in various corners of the room furnished with little couches and tables.
Taehyung could make out at least five famous people, and the rest were probably rich chaebols who got to hang out with them.
Somehow they had ended up in the VIP Lounge much sooner than expected, and Taehyung suddenly started believing in miracles.
They sat on one of the empty couches, a drink menu rapidly dropped in front of them.
“Tonight is on the house.” The tankman said as parting words and promptly disappeared.
An attractive waitress took his place only a fraction of second later, sporting a cool smile.
“What could I get you, sir … ” She said, dragging the last vowel in a question.
“Kim.” Taehyung said, “And Park,” He added. “Just sparkling water for now, please. Thank you.”
The waitress bowed slightly before disappearing behind yet another door, leaving them alone save for the people softly conversing among themselves.
“I think I’m gonna pee my pants in excitement,” Jimin whispered, voice going high. “Is this what you meant when you said you had an idea?”
“Up until that part where they let us in,” he said, voice equally as soft. “I have no idea how we ended up in the VIP lounge without paying. Didn’t even have to try.”
“Maybe they mistook us for someone else?”
“Maybe? she asked for our names, though.” Taehyung took the drink menu to look like he was doing something. Truth is, he didn’t know how to act. He felt like ordering the wrong drink would out them as poor people. Most of the bottles listed on the menu went over 200,000 won, though. “D’you think ordering a somaek will blow our cover?”
“We don’t even know what our cover is!” Jimin said, panicking a little. He suddenly didn’t look so excited to be there. “They clearly think we’re something or somebody we’re not.”
“Breath Jiminie.” He said, putting a hand on his knee. “You have got to stay calm. We aren’t robbing a bank here. We just somehow got really fucking lucky. Plus, they said it was on the house, we can drink things tonight we will most likely never get to drink again.”
As if on cue, the waitress showed up with a tray, unloading it with graceful and practiced movements, starting with two crystal tumblers in which she delicately dropped perfectly shaped ice cubes with some golden ice thongs. Then, she set on the table a cone-shaped bottle adorned with little crystals, and topped off with a literal crown-shaped cap.
After she was done pouring their glasses, she retreated behind that same door.
“Jiminie. Jimin. What the hell. That’s Fillico.”
“What?” He said, reaching for the tumbler and bringing it up to his mouth, the excitement of the night making his throat feel parched.
“That bottle of sparkling water is worth almost 250,000 won.”
He froze, mouth going tense, and put the tumbler back down. “Honestly, this night is getting too much for my heart,” Jimin said, just as the most handsome man they had ever laid eyes on appeared in front of them.
“I just heard the most fantastically hilarious rumor.” The man said without waiting for introductions, amused smile making his handsome features look childish. He had his hands on his slim hips, body framed by a Balenciaga outfit. The loose t-shirt stretched by a set of wide shoulders made it look classy yet comfy.
He carried on, not letting them speak.
“Apparently, terrifyingly handsome heirs of a mob empire are sipping sparkling water in my VIP lounge. Would you happen to have seen them?”
Jimin and Taehyung shared a look of understanding, the reason they were sitting where they were sitting finally dawning on them. After a stretch of silence, the man’s amusement not receding, Taehyung finally answered.
“It’s the eyeliner, isn’t it?” He said, aiming for vague.
The man’s smile grew.
“Now, maybe my petrified employees might have mistaken you two for scary mobsters, with that blue steel look in your eyes, but I went to school with a bunch of heir and heiress of the mafia and I know one when I see one. I bet you two aren’t.”
Jimin shrugged as their only response, which prompted a peal of laughter from their interlocutor.
“I’m Kim Seokjin, my family owns this place. I’ve never seen my employees so terrified. It’s very entertaining, especially our bouncers. They’re all combing the web for information on the family trees of the main mod clan of Korea as we speak.” He sat down with them, presenting them his hand.
“Park Jimin,” his friend said, reciprocating the hand. “I can play up my Busan satoori if you want.” He added with a shy smile.
“That would be fantastic. Maybe fake a phone call where you make super vague allusions to things that seem illegal?”
“Just tell me when.” He answered with a small laugh. Then Seokjin turned his attention to him.
“Kim Taehyung,” he said, “My satoori is less intimidating though.”
“Just keep your handsome face neutral and you won't have to talk to scare them.” Seokjin said with a wink, making Taehyung try to hold back a blush.
“Is it your first time at Octagon? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you guys if you’d been here before.”
“We don’t really go out… But-”
“Jin-Hyung!”
The three of them turned around to watch a small group of people approach. They all looked familiar to Taehyung, but he couldn’t remember from where. It’s only when he saw Jimin’s face, blank with shock, did he remember the original reason why they were sitting in a VIP lounge, drinking 250,000 won sparkling water, dressed in borrowed luxury clothes and chatting with someone who probably made three times their monthly salary in a minute.
There, walking toward them, was the rapping duo August D and Hope, and their equally talented and acclaimed friend RM.
And that moment was the beginning of the beginning.
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#bts fanfic#taekook fanfic#bts rags to riches#taekook#i know its the third time i post this but it just. wont. show up in the tags#magicshopnet#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#park jimin#jung hoseok#ot7
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