#meaning if they get off work at 4PM they should not have another shift until *at LEAST* 4AM the following morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1kook · 4 years ago

Text

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v wc; 4.6k

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #jjk♡#jeon jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts jungkook #mine

3K notes · View notes

kaunis-sielu · 3 years ago

Text

Fire Dogs

The fires had been blazing for weeks now, inching closer and closer to your home and firefighters were pouring in. You’d decided to stay, the fire was mostly moving away from town, thank god. The mayor had said that people who were willing to stay and help care for the hordes of firefighters pouring into town were appreciated. So even though you were a single Omega, you’d signed up. You could take in 2-6 firefighters depending on if they were willing to share a bed with one another and if you needed to sleep on the couch. You’d been assigned 3 men, all from New York City, one a Captain and all of them Alphas.

When you open the door as they walk up your sidewalk the first, a man with light hair and blue eyes, gives you a tight smile.

“Hi, welcome. I have a dog, is that okay?” The three men don’t even have to look at one another before all nodding yes. “Great, come on in.” You move out of the doorway and the three men come into the house.

“Thank you so much for opening your home to us.” The first man says, god he smells good, like sandalwood and lavender.

“It’s the least I could do.” You introduce yourself as your dog comes trotting into the room, Cooper’s tail wagging wildly. “But you can call me Fawn, and this is Cooper.”

“Sorry, I’m Steve Rogers, this is Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.” The first man says introducing himself and the two men with him.

“It’s a pleasure. I’ll show you guys to your rooms.” You lead them upstairs and show them each to a room. Bucky takes your first spare room, Sam the second and Steve is in the master.

“Buck, you’ve got third shift, Sam you’re on first and I’m on second.”

“Do we start today?” Bucky asks as you make your way downstairs, you were given a small packet for the guys, things you would need to know like allergies, presentation, emergency contacts and dietary restrictions. All three are simple, no dietary issues, no allergies, Alphas, Sam has his wife Carol as his emergency contact but Steve and Bucky, or James as he’s listed, both have Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s sister.

You get started on dinner and Sam wanders down into the kitchen bringing his

“So, why didn’t you leave town?”

“Nowhere to go. And the fire is heading away from here so hopefully everything will stay away from town.”

“The smoke doesn’t bother you?”

“I mean it’s not great but as long as Coop and I are okay I plan on staying. I’ve got some stuff packed up in my car and ready to go but I just haven’t pulled the trigger yet.”

“That’s fair. We do really appreciate you doing this. Letting us stay here.” He’s got such a soothing presence about him that you forget he’s an Alpha until his scent washes over you.

“It’s the least I can do,” you tell him with a smile, “so what does first shift mean?”

“Oh, it’s the really early shift, like 4am. Steve will be out running a crew since he’s a Captain back home and he’s around 10am then Bucky is 4pm.”

“What will I need for you in the morning? Breakfast? Coffee? Energy bars?”

“Coffee would be great. I usually take it with milk.” You jot down coffee and milk on a sheet of paper.

“How do the other two take their coffee?”

“Barnes likes it black, like a psychopath and Steve likes it with cream and sugar so he can’t taste the coffee.” You laugh and jot down creamer.

“Any chance you know what kind of creamer he likes?”

“Caramel I think.”

“I can always ask him too. I’ll set the coffee to go off at 3:15 for you.”

“Thank you.” Sam says as he sits down at the island. “What are you making for dinner?”

“Spaghetti. I make the sauce from scratch, from the garden.”

“It smells great.”

“Thanks, should be about a half hour. I’ve got meatballs in the oven and will have some garlic bread and green beans from my garden too.”

“You’re going to spoil us huh?” He says with a grin and you laugh, hoping that your suppressants work like they’re supposed to and keep you presenting as a Beta.

“I don’t get to cook for others often so I’m being a little selfish. Let me know if you need anything from town or want me to get anything. I’ll go shopping for the week tomorrow.”

“Are they paying you to host us?”

“No, but I don’t mind getting you guys stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, I wouldn’t offer if it was a problem.” You assure him and after studying you he nods.

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know.” You chat with Sam while you cook. You learn that his wife Carol is an Alpha and a doctor. The Alpha/Alpha pair is uncommon but if it works for them that’s wonderful. You also learn that he, Bucky and Steve served together and that Carol had outranked all three.

It seems that Steve has always been the one to lead their little trio, and when the smell of dinner lures him and Bucky down you include them in the conversation. Bucky, whose scent is oranges and cedar wood, is more chatty and flirty than Steve is but there’s this quiet strength about Steve that’s impossible not to notice.

Sam goes to bed immediately after dinner but Steve and Bucky stay up and watch the news with you. You set the coffee machine for Sam and leave him a note to help himself to anything he wants to eat. Then you bring Cooper outside, he wanders your wildfire lit backyard, the orange glow is spooky and the smell of smoke is thick in the air.

“Come on Coop, it’s bedtime.” You tell him leading him to the living room. Both Steve and Bucky are gone so you change into your pajamas and get ready for bed in the bathroom then head back to the couch where Cooper is laying dead center. “Move it Coop.” He grumbles but gets down, once you’re settled you let him back up on the couch between your feet.

You wake up as Sam closes the fridge.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says softly. When he turns and sees you sitting up on the couch.

“No it’s okay.” You tell him as Cooper hops off of the couch. You follow him to the back door and let him out.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“They needed three more beds so I gave them three more beds.”

“We put you out of your room?” He asks with a small frown.

“I sleep more on the couch anyway, I usually fall asleep to one baking show or another.” You tell him with a sleepy smile, you hadn’t meant to tell them they’d taken all your beds but it was too late now.

“This is your home.”

“Seriously Sam don’t worry about it.” You say letting Cooper back into the house. “Be safe.”

“Thanks.” He says and you go back to bed on the couch.

The next time you wake it’s 9:00 and you want to make sure that you’ve got something ready for Bucky and Steve for breakfast so you get up. You feed Cooper then let him out again, if there wasn’t the fire you’d let him stay outside as long as he wanted. You sit down on the couch and pull your tablet into your lap. Cooper joins you on the couch as you start to draw your characters.

“Morning.” Steve’s voice is low and soft when he greets you.

“Good morning. There are pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns and bacon in the oven. The pans will be warm.”

“Thanks,” you hear him help himself to food and coffee then he comes out into the living room. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Don’t let Coop fool you into any food though.”

“No people food for him?”

“Just some fruit and veggies.” You tell him glancing up at the fire captain. “So Sam said you guys were on a 4-10-4 start time but what time are you all home?”

“We’re doing 12 hour shifts, so Sam and Buck don’t overlap but I will with both.”

“Okay, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back. Is there anything that I don’t have that you need? Sam said you liked a certain flavor of creamer.”

“The French vanilla is fine.”

“He said caramel?” You glance over at him again and he has this little shy smile on his face. “I don’t mind, I need to go get groceries anyway.”

“Caramel is my favorite.” He admits and you nod then get back to your drawing. He finishes his breakfast in silence then puts his dishes into the dishwasher, Steve heads back upstairs and you hear him finish getting ready before he comes back down.

“Be safe.”

“Thanks.” He says before closing the door softly behind him.

Bucky sleeps until almost noon, you’ve taken breakfast out of the oven and put it in the fridge. He somehow looks groggy still and you’re worried he didn’t sleep well.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. How are you?” His voice is low and husky.

“Good. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yea I slept great. I could still be asleep to be honest but I might get called in early.”

“Why?”

“There are less guys at base camp right now. Apparently a group of them had some trouble on the way? I don’t know but Steve called.”

“Breakfast is in the fridge if you wanna heat it otherwise I have lunch meat and stuff for sandwiches.”

“I love breakfast food.” He says making his way to the fridge. He starts a cup of coffee then opens the fridge.

You find out that Bucky is a chatter. Which is fine but you’re glad that you’re illustrating today rather than writing because there’s no way you’d be able to focus on writing. He asks you about living in the small town, how you ended up here, about your job, when he finds out you’re an author and illustrator of children’s books he promises to buy his niece a couple books. You tell him to leave his address and you’ll send him a signed copy of the one you’re working on, he excitedly does.

When he leaves at 3:30, not being called in early, you take a break and start on dinner. You want to make sure you’ve got food ready for Sam when he gets back.

Sam comes in at 4:45, Cooper barks excitedly and Sam sinks to the ground and Cooper immediately calms allowing Sam to wrap his arms around him. You don’t say anything, just continue to cook while Sam hugs Cooper to him. You hear him talking softly but you ignore him, whatever he’s saying to Coop is none of your business.

“I’m gonna go take a shower before I eat.” Sam says at full volume, the side of his face still pressed to Cooper’s side.

“That’s fine,” you assure him, “I’ve got about twenty minutes before the rice is done.”

“Okay.” He disappears then Cooper comes wandering into the kitchen. You give him a couple of treats and tell him what a good boy he is.

Sam eats in silence then goes up to his room, you’re pretty sure he goes to bed by 7 but after the day he’s had you can’t blame him.

At 10 you start reheating food for when Steve comes in. Sure enough, 10:30 rolls in and so does Steve. Cooper greets Steve with a wagging tail, Steve gives him a little pat and heads upstairs. You hear the shower turn on and after around 10 minutes Steve is back dropping down on the couch as Cooper puts a head in his lap. Steve absently pets Cooper and you place a plate of food in front of him.

“Thank you.” His tired eyes meet yours and he gives you a little half smile.

“It’s the least I can do.” You tell him sincerely. Cooper stays with his head in Steve’s lap until Steve goes upstairs to bed. You set up your bed on the couch and set your alarm for 3:30 in the morning so you can get food heated for Bucky and coffee and food started for Sam.

You fall asleep still smelling Steve on your couch.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader au #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve x omega!reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega reader #abo au #firefighter!steve rogers #firefighter!au #firefighter!steve rogers x reader #fire dogs story

231 notes · View notes

lostinthewiind · 3 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not: Part 3

Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura Daichi, Bokuto Kōtarō, Oikawa Tōru, Kuroo Tetsurō - Haikyuu

Synopsis: five years after graduating high school, you’re invited to Kiyoko and Tanaka’s wedding and find yourself back in Japan. Surrounded by your old classmates and volleyball buddies once again, not only are old friendships rekindled, but old feelings start to resurface as well. Did five years change you and your friends too much, or did it change you all just enough?

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: female!reader, aged-up characters, female anatomy, male anatomy, shower sex, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

Previous → Part 2

Next → Part 4

When the bright rays of the sun that had managed to sneak through the crack in the thick hotel room curtains had begun to shine in your face, you finally gave in to the day and rolled over in bed to look at the clock.

It was almost noon and you were still in bed, which was a rare treat for you even on vacation. Normally, you would be out and about and fitting in as many activities as you could during your stay. This time around, however, you were content with playing each day by ear and taking it easy.

Staring up at the ceiling, you soon found yourself thinking about your date with Daichi the other night. Since then, he had called you and texted a few times, but the two of you hadn't been able to arrange another chance to see each other as his work schedule was incredibly hectic at the moment.

Below the surface, a part of you ached to just tell him to come to your hotel room whenever he got off work next—whether it be 4pm or 4am—and just stay in bed together until his next shift started.

The rational part of you knew, however, that that idea would only serve to make things more difficult for you in the long run. At the end of your allotted time off, you would have to go back home and return to your life; and neither you nor Daichi was foolish enough to give everything up just because you had had sex once.

The sound of your cell phone ringing from the bedside table broke you free from your thoughts and you grabbed the device without looking at the caller ID, expecting it to be Daichi or Kiyoko since they seemed to be the only ones calling you lately.

"Hello?" You spoke into your phone as you crawled out of bed, made your way to the curtains, and pulled them open.

"Y/N!" a bright voice replied as the warm sunlight poured into the hotel room. You could recognize that cheery, joyous voice anywhere.

Sliding open the balcony door and stepping outside, you smiled softly to yourself. "Bokuto," you replied. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good. Listen, there was a scheduling mix-up at our gym and practice got cancelled today. And I was thinking, with it being such a beautiful day and the fact that I now have the whole day off, we should go to the beach!"

"The beach?" you asked, making sure you heard him right. "Goodness, I haven't been to a beach in . . . years, I think."

"Me either! And don't forget, you agreed to play some volleyball with me before you left so you can't really say no."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you sighed. "I didn't mean beach volleyball, Bo."

Bokuto's hearty laugh filled your ear and you couldn't help but feel like today was going to be a good day. "So are you in or not?"

Turning away from the balcony and looking back at your suitcase inside, you vaguely remembered packing a swimsuit to use in the hotel's hot tub. "All right, I'm in."

Excitement bubbled from Bokuto as soon as you agreed and you had to break through his rambling in order to calm him down long enough to give you a place and a time.

Once you had agreed to meet up at Kasai Kaihin Park Beach in about an hour, you started getting ready to head out and had completely forgotten about Daichi and worrying about what to do about your situation with him.

Thankfully, if there was one thing Bokuto was good for, it was having a good time and distracting you from all of your problems.

Arriving at the beach, it didn't take long for you to spot Bokuto among the crowd. Even if his silver and black hair didn't already make him stand out like a sore thumb, the fact that he was significantly bigger and a lot taller than anyone else made him nearly impossible to miss.

That, and the fact that he had already found a group of guys to sucker into playing a game of beach volleyball with; and if there was one thing that made Bokuto even more energetic than usual, it was when he was playing volleyball.

As you sauntered over, you remained silent and watched him play. Despite the fact that beach volleyball was much harder than court volleyball, he seemed to manage no problem. Sweaty skin and bulging muscles that glimmered in the sunlight made him a sight to behold to anyone with the ability of sight, and thus he and the other men had accumulated a rather large crowd of female spectators.

Waiting until there was a natural pause in the game, you continued to watch for a little while, enjoying the game just like everyone else. Calling for the ball, Bokuto leapt as high as he could into the air, kicking up sand all around himself in the process, and spiked the ball down hard onto the other side of the court.

Immediately, a group of teenage girls began to cheer and the rest of the crowd followed suit. You had always known that Bokuto had grown into a spectacle of a man, and the fact that he was a professional athlete didn't hurt his reputation either, but you had never witnessed him draw in so many strangers before.

"I sure hope you didn't invite me out here to watch you play volleyball with your new friends all day!" you finally shouted to catch his attention, beach bag slung over your shoulder and sunglasses blocking the harsh rays from your eyes.

Hearing your voice, Bokuto excused himself from the game, promising he would return, and ran over to you. "Sorry," he laughed. "I didn't even notice you had arrived."

"Yes, well, how could you possibly pick me out among all of these faces?" You gestured to the fact that there were people, most of which were women, gathered all around the beach court. "I should have known better before agreeing to go out into public with a celebrity."

Bokuto's face flushed red and he smiled wide. "A celebrity? Me? Nah, people just love a good beach volleyball game."

You cocked a brow and smirked. "Is it the game they like, or the players?" You subtly eyed him from head to toe, praying he didn't notice when your gaze lingered on the swim trunks that sat low on his hips and the noticeable v-line that naturally drew your eyes downward before disappearing underneath the thin fabric.

"Well, come on." Bokuto wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you along the beach to where he had set up his stuff. Either he hadn't noticed you staring or had simply chosen to ignore it, but you appreciated the topic change nevertheless. "It's really hot out today, so I'm sure you want to get into the water as soon as possible."

Putting down your bag and spreading your towel out beside Bokuto's, you nodded. "Yeah, it's been so long since I've gotten to swim in an ocean. I'm actually kind of excited," you admitted as you began to pull your shirt over your head, thankful that you had decided to wear your bathing suit under your clothes, which saved you a trip to the crowded changing rooms.

As you continued to undress, you waited for Bokuto to respond with something, but he didn't. Shimmying your shorts down your legs and kicking them off with your foot, you looked up at Bokuto and were surprised to find him just standing there, watching you. You imagined this is what you must have looked like ogling him earlier.

"Bo?" you cocked your head to the side as you stood upright, revealing the entirety of your bikini. "You okay?"

Shaking his head, as if he were trying to shake out any indecent thoughts that may have surfaced, Bokuto cleared his throat and flashed a toothy grin. "Do you need any help with your sunscreen?" He nodded his head toward the bottle sticking out of your bag.

Picking up the bottle, you squirted some on your hands to spread onto your arms and legs before handing it to him. "If you could do my back, that would be awesome," you told him. "Whenever I try to do it myself, I always end up missing a spot."

As you spread the sunscreen over your arms, you suddenly felt a pair of cold hands on your back and jumped a little. Instantly, Bokuto stilled his hands. "Sorry, I should have warned you," he apologized before slowly starting to spread the cream over your back. "Is this okay?"

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine when he pushed his thick fingers under the straps of your bikini top and weren't sure that your reaction was completely from the temperature of the sunscreen. Slowly, he worked his way down your back, his hands gliding down your sides and fingertips brushing along your spine. Finally, he did your lower back, and you didn't miss the subtle sensation of him pushing the tips of his fingers just under the hem of your bottoms.

"All done," he spoke softer than he had the entire time you two had been together. When he pulled his hands away, you found yourself missing his touch for some reason. Maybe it was because his touch reminded you of your evening with Daichi, or maybe it was for a different reason altogether that you didn't even want to try and decipher.

"Thanks." You slowly spun around to face him and took the bottle from him. You could still feel the remnants of his touch on your back and were unsure if it was obvious from the look on your face, so you opted to try to push the thought from your head and focus on having a good time. "I'm seriously going to burn alive if we stand here much longer. I'm heading to the water. You coming?"

Facial expression changing on a dime from something completely unreadable to his usual boyish excitement, Bokuto followed after you eagerly. "Of course! Lead the way."

Just like that, the tension—sexual or otherwise—that had been lingering in the air between the two of you had dissipated. As you made your way to the shore, you tied your hair up and out of your face and giggled when the cold water lapped against your toes. "I always forget how cold the ocean is." You winced a little.

"You just have to take the plunge!" Bokuto exclaimed before rushing past you and diving headfirst into the water. With wide eyes, you watched his figure disappear underneath the water before he popped up a few meters away, his usual spiked hair laying flat against his forehead and dripping.

"You're insane!" you laughed, taking your time as you slowly waded into the water. "I'm absolutely not doing that."

Arms out toward you, Bokuto gestured for you to come to him. "Awh, you're no fun." He stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. By the time you got out to him, the water was at your chest and you had gotten used to the temperature.

"I am plenty of fun," you retorted. "I'm just not crazy. There's a difference."

"Oh, yeah?" He dropped down onto his knees so he was eye-level with you. "What do you do for fun these days?"

"Hmm," you hummed as you thought. "Well, I do still play volleyball sometimes, but just with a small group of people at the local community center. I like to hike and travel. When I have time, I read the occasional book. I'm a hoot."

Bokuto chuckled. "Yeah, sounds like it. Remember in high school when we all used to go driving at 2am? Now that was fun!"

"We were 17. We could find amusement out of just about anything." You reasoned. "But, yes, it was fun. I do miss those days."

"Me too." Bokuto agreed. "But, you know, we could still do stuff like that . . . if you still lived here, that is."

You furrowed your brows at him and tried to ignore the golden puppy dog eyes he was sending your way. "You better not have invited me out today just to try and guilt trip me into moving back."

"So you're saying it won't work?"

Folding your arms over your chest, you shook your head. "We're adults now. It's healthy to move on and live our own lives."

"You didn't answer the question." He drifted closer to you before splashing you lightly with the cold water. "You really think you can resist these big, beautiful eyes? It used to work on you all the time."

"I told you, I'm an adult now. I moved on." You smirked. "It doesn't work anymore."

Bokuto continued to inch closer and closer, his bright, golden eyes never leaving yours. "You moved on from me?"

Your breath caught in your throat and suddenly, the water that you had grown accustomed to felt freezing. "N-no, that's no-" you started, but were cut off by shouting from the sand.

"Hey, buddy!" One of the guys Bokuto was playing volleyball with earlier was waving to him. "We're starting up another game. You want in?"

Before answering, Bokuto turned to you, his eyes just as bright as before but somehow, there was something missing; it didn't feel the same as when he had been looking at you before. "You promised a game." He quirked an eyebrow at you hopefully.

Once again, you let the topic change flow naturally and shrugged your shoulders. "I'm not going to get out of playing, am I?"

"Nope." Bokuto grinned, popping the P.

"Fine."

Bokuto fist-pumped the air, which filled your chest with a joyous feeling, and he turned back to the guy. "Got room for my friend?"

The guy's eyes shifted from Bokuto to you and you didn't miss the way he looked over as much of your body as he could. "Yeah, for sure!" he answered shortly after. "The more the merrier!"

Having clearly missed the man's extended eye contact with your chest due to how excited he was, Bokuto wasted no time in dragging you out of the water and toward the court that had been drawn in the sand. As soon as the two of you arrived, the four other men introduced themselves to you and two teams of three were made.

You and Bokuto ended up on the same team, which made you feel a tad less nervous considering it had been a while since you had played a real game of volleyball and even longer since you had attempted beach volleyball.

When the game began, it didn't take long for it to become apparent that you were the weak link on the team. Bokuto, as sweet as he was, continued to set to you as best he could so you could attempt to spike. The sand, however, was really fighting you and more often than not, you ended up stumbling or missing the ball altogether.

After missing yet another set, you shook your head as you dusted some sand off of your legs. At this point, you were more of a hindrance than a help. "You'd never guess I played volleyball all throughout high school and was even the captain," you chuckled. "Sorry, guys."

"No worries, sweetheart." The other guy on your team, whose name you had already forgotten, smiled at you. "The sand takes some getting used to."

You bushed slightly at the nickname. "Yeah, I didn't expect it to be so different from playing on a court. My leg muscles aren't nearly strong enough."

"Nonsense." He waved off your statement. "A few more games and you'll be a pro."

You chuckled at the confidence he had in you, completely missing the way that Bokuto was glaring at the two of you as you conversed casually. Eventually, he cleared his throat. "My serve," he said. "Get ready."

Throwing the ball high into the air, Bokuto served the ball to the other team and when they received it, you got ready for when they would eventually hit it back to your side. Watching carefully, you tried your best not to trip over your own feet.

You observed the other team's setter, but when he turned his set into a setter dump at the last second, you dove for the ball and ended up missing it by a fingertip's length. "Damnit," you sighed, looking up at the other team's setter. "Nice dump."

"Nice try." A hand appeared in front of your face and you took it without hesitation. "You almost had it," the other man from your team said as he helped you to your feet and brushed some sand from your stomach. "Next time for sure."

As the game continued, and the gap in points grew larger and larger thanks to you, the guy on your team continued to flirt with you. Warm smiles, gentle touches, words of encouragement. It was harmless, at least that's what you thought, but Bokuto had a different take on the matter.

With one point left until the other team won, Bokuto was up next to serve again. Like usual, he tossed the ball up into the air and smacked it as hard as he could, but instead of going over the net, the ball hit the other guy on your team in the back of the head.

"Oh, my God!" you gasped as you watched the man fall forward from the force of the hit.

While the other team celebrated their victory, you rushed over to the man to see if he was okay. "Are you all right?" you asked him, holding your hand out to help him up.

"Fuck, that hurt like a bitch," he cursed, rubbing the back of his head. He reached out to take your hand, but before he could, Bokuto wrapped his fingers around your wrist hard and started dragging you away.

"Bo!" You tried to pry your arm out of his grip, but it was much too tight. After several attempts to get him to stop dragging you or say something, you stopped dead in your tracks. "Bokuto, what are you doing?!" You demanded an answer. "You're hurting my arm!"

Turning to face you, Bokuto's expression seemed to soften at your words and he let go of your wrist. Staring down at the red marks he had left on your skin, he sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just . . . I'm sorry."

"What's gotten into you?" you inquired as you started toward where you had left your stuff. "You've been an emotional rollercoaster all day long. Even more so than usual."

Hanging his head, obviously regretting his impulsive actions, Bokuto just sighed. "I . . . I don't know."

You waited for him to elaborate but he didn't. "Well, then I'm going to go shower and rinse off all of this sand," you told him as you grabbed your bag. "Then probably head back to my hotel. I'm tired and it's getting late anyway."

"Oh, okay." Bokuto seemed dejected but you weren't sure what else you were supposed to say or do. You swam, you played volleyball, and at this point, you didn't think that sitting and talking was in the cards for the two of you. "I'll wait here then."

With that, you took off toward the changing rooms and showers. Walking there, you noticed that a lot of the towels that had been laid out on the sand when you had first arrived were now gone. When you entered the usually packed changing rooms, you were pleasantly surprised to find that they were actually pretty empty. Aside from a small group of friends, you were alone.

Picking a spot on one of the benches, you laid out your clothes to change into before picking one of the many empty shower stalls and turned on the water. Glad that the shower water was much warmer than the ocean, you stepped under the stream with your bathing suit still on and began to rinse away the sand from your hair and body.

At some point, while you were showering, the group of women had left, leaving you completely alone in the changing rooms. Sighing quietly, you thought back on the events of that day, trying to piece together what had gotten into Bokuto all of a sudden during the volleyball game. Had he been pissed that you guys had been losing? Was he mad that you were utter trash at beach volleyball? You had tried to warn him before, but then again, it wasn't just the volleyball incident that had been a little off. All afternoon he had been switching between being serious and quieter than normal and his usual eccentric self.

Hearing the door opening with a soft squeak, you pulled yourself from your worries and got ready to turn off the water and get changed. As you reached for the tap, however, a hand pulled back the curtain on the shower stall and you let out a startled shriek.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's only me." Bokuto held a hand out in front of himself in defence as he tried to calm you down.

Realizing the intruder was a familiar face, you narrowed your eyes at Bokuto. "Bo, what are you doing in here?! This is the women's changing rooms!"

"I know, I know, but I made sure that no one else was in here before I entered."

"Well, you better leave! What if someone else comes in?"

"They won't. I locked the door."

Your hand slowly slid off of the metal shower tap. "Why did you lock the door?"

"Because I didn't want anyone to interrupt."

"Interrupt what?"

"This." He closed the gap between the two of you, one hand cupping the side of your face and the other grabbing your waist, and kissed you hard.

At first, you were completely taken by surprise by the kiss, but as Bokuto's hands roamed your body and that familiar feeling sent adrenaline through you, like with the sunscreen incident, you melted into his touch. Standing under the warm water with him while his touch sent shivers up your spine, the balance of hot and cold was intoxicating.

As he pulled away from the kiss, his golden eyes staring into yours once more, he ran the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "When I saw that guy flirting with you and touching you I just . . . I lost it a little. I'm sorry."

Your lips parted slightly and as your own hand reached up to brush some of his wet hair out of his eyes, you swore your body moved on its own. "Why did it bother you that he was flirting with me?"

Bokuto exhaled sharply, almost like a laugh. "I think that's pretty obvious by now," he said, his lips still inches away from yours. "I'm head over heels for you, Y/N. I've got you back now and I'd be an idiot if I let you go again."

You wanted nothing more than to lean into him and engulf him in another kiss, but before you did, you had one last question on your mind. "So when you asked earlier if I had moved on from you . . .?"

"I was asking if you still thought about me like I think about you."

"I do." The words left your mouth before you had a chance to process them and they shocked you just as much as they did Bokuto.

His eyes flashed with a hopeful sparkle. "You do?"

"I do," you repeated.

Before you could say another word, Bokuto's lips were on yours again and he was backing you into the cold tile of the shower wall. "I think about you so much it drives me crazy," he spoke between the kisses that he was trailing along your jaw and down your neck. "Back in high school I used to think about kissing you all the time, but I never could."

Peering down at the man who was slowly lowering himself onto his knees before you, you swallowed hard. "Because you all had a crush on me in high school?" You couldn't believe you had just asked that, but now that it was out there, you ached for an answer.

Bokuto slowly pried his lips away from your lower stomach, just above your bikini bottoms. "How did you know?"

"Kiyoko told me at the wedding," you replied. "Is it true?"

Fingers hooking under your bottoms, Bokuto gently and agonizingly slowly began to pull them down your legs. "Yes." He pressed a kiss to your thigh. "We all wanted you, so out of respect for one another, and you, we agreed that neither of us could have you."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. So Kiyoko had been right. She had been telling the truth. All of your male friends from high school had been harbouring crushes on you for the entire time you had been together. You didn't know what made you feel weirder, the fact that neither of them had ever told you how they really felt, or the fact that you had never been able to figure it out for yourself.

You opened your mouth to say something else but Bokuto chose that moment to hook one of your legs over his shoulder and press and wet, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. You inhaled sharply and tangled your fingers in his wet hair.

"Bo . . ." You waited for him to look at you before continuing. "Do you really want to do this?"

"God, yes," he answered without a second of hesitation. "I want you so bad that my entire body throbs with anticipation whenever I look at you. But more than anything, I want you to want me too. Do you want this?"

"I do," you told him, guilt playing at the tip of your tongue. You wanted to confess, but you also didn't want to ruin the moment. "But . . ."

Bokuto licked a stripe from your mid-thigh to your pussy before flicking his tongue over your clit without warning. "But?" he coaxed, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth when he watched you tilt your head back and moan at his actions.

"But I . . . I slept with Daichi," you admitted, a mix of relief and regret instantly filling you afterwards. "The other day, we went to dinner and we had sex."

Surprisingly enough, this didn't seem to bother Bokuto at all. If anything, it only encouraged him more as he buried himself into your core, nose rubbing against your clit as he ran his tongue between your folds. "Do you love him?" he inquired casually.

"What? No." You shook your head, struggling to get words out without letting moans and groans escape as well. "No, nothing like that. I just thought you should know before we go any further. D-do you still want to do this?"

Bokuto's actions spoke for themselves as he continued to eat you out with fervour, but nevertheless, he still responded with words. "We're adults now." He used your earlier words for his own benefit. "If he hasn't claimed you as his own, then I don't care if you've slept with him a hundred times before now. It doesn't ruin this for me one bit. Nothing could."

"Okay," was all you could think to say.

"Okay." He looked up at you once more. "So just relax and let me make you feel good. Please let me have this . . . let me have you."

You just nodded.

Large hands finding their way to your hips, Bokuto dug his fingers into your soft flesh as he dove back into your pussy with his face, tongue flicking over your clit over and over again before occasionally sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth. In mere seconds, you were nothing more than putty in his hands.

"Oh, Bo," you moaned out, your soft voice echoing off of the tile walls. Tangling his short hair between your fingers, you used the leg that was draped over his shoulder to pull him in closer. You wanted to feel more of him; as much as humanly possible.

"Just as sweet as I had imagined," Bokuto pulled away from you for a split second and licked his lips before resuming his work. "Please cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of you."

The mixture of Bokuto's words and actions was enough to have you seeing stars, and after another minute or so of him attacking your clit with his mouth and muttering filthy but beautiful things into your core, you were coming undone before him. Legs shaking, you clung to him for support as the waves of pleasure rocked through your entire body.

Bokuto licked up your juices hungrily. Wet, slurping sounds filled the shower stall, only to be heard by the two of you before being drowned out by the sound of the running water. His tongue circled your clit, lapped at your folds, and ran along your inner thighs to catch every last drop of your release.

As your muscles began to relax and you felt as though you were going to collapse onto the shower floor, Bokuto stood up and in one fluid motion, grabbed both of your legs and wrapped them around his hips. "Can I fuck you now?" he asked as he kissed and nipped at the nape of your neck.

Exhausted from being out in the sun all afternoon and from just experiencing one of the best orgasms of your life, you nodded lazily. "Be gentle," you told him in a whisper as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I will," he assured you as he pulled his cock free from his swim shorts and lined himself up with your entrance. "I'm going to make sure to savour every second of this." He prodded you with the tip of his cock, testing the waters. When you responded positively with a soft whimper, he began to sheath himself inside of you slowly.

"Holy fuck." He buried his face in your neck and you could tell it was taking every ounce of strength he had to not lose himself in you completely. With how big and strong he was, you knew he could make quick work of you should he so please, so it was obvious he was holding himself back for your sake.

When he finally bottomed out and let out a hiss into your ear, you dug your nails into his back and gave an experimental roll of your hips. Arching your back off of the tile wall, you used your body the best you could to entice him into giving you more of himself. "I know I said gentle, but you don't have to hold back so much." You pulled his head out of your neck and kissed him hard. "Fuck me how you've imagined it all these years, Bo."

You watched as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "You sure?" You could hear the hope in his tone.

"Positive."

Hands moving from your thighs to your ass, Bokuto squeezed hard as he pulled out of you all the way before slamming back in with as much force as he could muster. It stung a little when your back smacked into the tile wall, but the pain only helped to heighten the pleasure.

"It's just us in here." Bokuto reminded you, never slowing his pace for even a second. "Scream for me. Please scream my fucking name."

"B-Bo," you moaned out, the erotic nature of the public sex driving you to be more reckless than you normally would be. "Kōtarō." You used his first name, something you had only done once or twice before, and never like this.

Bokuto's hips stuttered slightly and you swore his grip on you faltered for half a second. "F-fuck," he grunted. "I could cum just hearing you cry out my name like that. Do it again."

"Bokuto!"

"No." He crashed his mouth into yours, teeth biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. "My given name."

"Kōtarō," you said again, this time quieter than before but it still seemed to have the same effect.

"Yes, fuck yes." He adjusted his grip on you quickly, his pace speeding up ever so slightly. "My name sounds so good when you say it like that. Say it again."

"Kōtarō."

"Again."

"Kōtarō."

Every time he demanded you say his name again, you got louder and louder until you were screaming at the top of your lungs while he muttered into the crook of your neck, a mixture of expletives and warnings that he wasn't going to last much longer.

"I'm gonna cum," you told him, holding him close as you felt the pleasure beginning to build up and threaten to overflow inside of you.

"Not yet." Bokuto stared at you hard as the stream of water rushed over his face. "I'm close. Wait for me."

Unsure if you would actually be able to hold off for much longer, you nodded anyway and tried to relax the tightening muscles in your core that were on the brink of spasming any second.

Close to his own release as well, Bokuto hunkered down and put everything he had into his few final thrusts. When he finally felt himself letting go, he devoured your mouth with his own. "Cum now," he demanded into your mouth, voice low and gruff as he pulled out and came onto your lower stomach and thighs. "Please cum with me." His hold on you loosened a little as he rode out his high, and once he was finished, he pushed his soft cock back inside, desperate to feel you come undone around him. ". . . please."

At the sound of his soft pleas, you let your looming orgasm take over and melted at the ruined whimpers that fell from Bokuto's lips every time your walls tightened around his sensitive cock.

Once you had both finished, Bokuto spun the two of you around so his back was pressed against the wall and slid down the wet tile into a limp pile of tangled limbs with you still wrapped around him.

"Even better than I imagined." You heard him mumble to himself and couldn't help but giggle softly.

Even though you knew that you should get dried off, changed, and out of the changing rooms before someone called maintenance to come and unlock the door, all you could manage to do was snuggle deeper into Bokuto's warm, comforting embrace.

"Next time you want to spend time with me like this, just tell me," you said, eyes dangerously close to closing and not opening again until you had gotten some rest. "Just please don't make me play any more beach volleyball."

Bokuto laughed, his chest rumbling and sending vibrations through your body. "Okay," he agreed. "Now that the secret is out though, I don't have to worry about tiptoeing around my feelings for you any longer."

"I know you said you had a crush on me." You lifted your head so you could look Bokuto in the eyes. "But just so there aren't any misunderstandings, do you still feel the same way or was this just some fantasy come to fruition?"

Hands cupping your face, Bokuto ran his thumbs along your cheeks again. "Y/N, I loved you in high school and I love you now. I want you now just like I wanted you then. Nothing has changed for me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "You . . . love me?"

As much as the word startled you, it didn't seem to faze Bokuto in the slightest. "If you'll let me."

133 notes · View notes

ttuesday · 4 years ago

Text

Time

Summary: After spending the night on guard duty, you make a bet with Micah to find out who can stay awake the longest.

Word Count: 2,772

~unfortunately there’s no smut in this, it’s mainly fluff and maybe a bit of angst ? idk lmao~

8am You spent the entire night on guard duty. Bill was supposed to take over a couple of hours ago but he never did. It didn’t take long for you to realize he was after sleeping in, preferring to stay wrapped up in his warm bedroll instead of coming out to relieve you from duty.

Finally about two goddamn hours after sunrise, John came out and offered to go on guard, mentioning to you that Bill had woken up about twenty minutes ago but decided that avoiding you was better than owning up to his mistake.

You walked into camp and scanned the area, trying to find Bill so you could confront him. Dutch sat outside his tent, reading a book. A frustrated Arthur was playing dominoes with Tilly. And Micah sat at one of the tables, cleaning his revolvers. It seemed as though everyone was around except for Bill.

“Mic, have you seen Bill this morning?” you asked as you walked up to Micah. The man scoffed “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”. “But it’s your name” you replied. “That ain’t my name” he snapped back, glaring at you. “But your name’s Mic-ah” you sounded it out as if you were teaching Jack a new word.

Micah rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath but he stopped when he noticed you yawn. “Awh, you all tired out from being out on watch?” he mocked. “I’m not tired” you answered bluntly.

“Sure you ain’t” Micah replied sarcastically.

The truth was you did feel a bit drained. You had just spent the whole night on guard duty, of course you were kinda tired but you weren’t going to admit that to him.

You and Micah always had a strange friendship. Half the time you were both arguing with one another, hurling insults at each other and bickering over anything and everything. But then a few hours later you would both be sitting at one of the tables, laughing together as if you were the best of friends. It was strange but it worked.

“Seriously, I’m not tired” you reinforced, knowing he didn't believe you the first time you said it “you’d be surprised how long I can stay awake”. “Is that so?” he questioned, focusing his attention on cleaning his revolvers again. A small smirk tugged at your lips “Yeah, I mean I could definitely stay awake longer than you. That wouldn’t even be a challenge”.

Why were you saying this? Well, you had only one reason. You wanted to annoy him.

Micah chuckled “Now you’re just lying to yourself”. “Or you’re underestimating me” you corrected him. You knew there was no way Micah could go longer without sleep than you. Sure, you spent the night awake but from the dark circles under Micah’s eyes, it was obvious he had a couple of restless nights recently.

“I’d even make a bet that I could stay awake longer than you” you smirked. Micah let out a loud, arrogant laugh as he looked at you again “That’s real funny”.

“What? You scared I’ll win?” you continued to annoy him.

“There ain’t no way in hell you’d win” he furrowed his brow.

“You wanna bet on that?” you asked. Micah considered it for a couple of seconds, his gaze momentarily flicking down to his guns before looking at you “Fine, but don’t expect me to let you win”.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Bill cautiously step into camp. “There he is” you muttered to yourself. Bill hesitantly glanced around, presumably trying to see where you were so he could avoid you. “Williamson!” you called, getting his attention. Bill looked at you with wide eyes before turning on his heels and walking in the opposite direction.

You started to walk after him, not about to let him get away that easily. “Hey, get back here!” you yelled. Micah chuckled as you jogged after Bill. He was confident that you would fall asleep first, especially since you just got off guard duty. There was no way you’d win this bet, Micah was sure of it.

12:30pm You sat under a tree, listening to the gentle midday breeze make its way through the branches overhead. You had been reading a book Mary-Beth recommended to you but put it down on your lap, the warm summer’s day starting to make you feel drowsy.

“You asleep yet?” Micah suddenly appeared. You quickly opened your eyes and blinked a few times to try and quickly wake yourself up. “You know I’m not sleeping until you do” you reminded him. “You weren’t being serious about that, were you?” he questioned.

“Of course I was”.

“Huh, well you’re gonna be waiting a while,” he replied, only now starting to realize you were being deadly serious about this bet “I don’t plan on losing an easy bet”.

He leaned against the tree, taking out a pack of cigarettes and putting one between his lips. “How was your talk with Williamson?” he asked, putting the packet back into his pocket and taking out a match. “It was fine, he said he’ll do my next shift on guard duty to make it up to me. Actually, when was the last time you went on duty?” you gazed up at him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Micah out there on guard. In fact, you couldn’t remember a time he was ever on guard duty.

“Why would I waste my time doing that?” Micah sneered, lifting his boot and striking the match off of it. You sighed, picking up your book again and flicking through to the page you stopped at “You can be so grumpy when you’re tired”.

“I ain’t tired” he grunted. You laughed softly, making Micah huff. “Sleep’s overrated” he said with a new found determination “and I will win this bet, make no mistake about that”. Micah stormed off, mumbling what you presumed where insults under his breath.

You admired how seriously he was starting to take the bet but you knew he wouldn’t last. Sure, you had been awake for many, many hours at this point and you were tired but Micah could’ve been awake for days by now. He never was keen on sleep and that’s what made you think this was going to be an easy bet to win. Even if you didn’t win, maybe this would encourage Micah to sleep and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, that would be a good thing too.

4pm You were helping Pearson with dinner. Normally you didn’t but he had a fight with Sadie earlier in the day so you decided to step in and give her a break. You chopped the vegetables, humming a tune to yourself.

“Well, well, well, what’re you doing?” a voice asked from behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. Micah always had a distinct voice you could recognize immediately.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you replied with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

You expected him to move around the table and into your line of sight but instead Micah peered over your shoulder, slyly placing his hand on your hip as he did. “Hmmm” was all he said as he looked down at the vegetables. You expected him to move but he stayed where he was, his chest pressing against your back and his hand subconsciously kneading your hip.

A strong scent suddenly hit your nostrils and you couldn’t help but scrunch up your nose. “Have you been drinking?” you turned your head towards him. Micah also turned his head to look at you properly, his lips curving upwards and into a smirk. “Maybe” he grinned.

You could smell the whiskey every time his hot breath hit your face. You hadn’t realized how close his face was to yours until his eyes momentarily flicked down to your lips.

It caught you by surprise, your nose nearly bumping against his. Micah didn't expect your faces to be so close either, his mouth staying slightly open though he stayed quiet. You’ve heard the phrase ‘getting lost in someone’s eyes’ but you didn’t think it was actually real. Yet there you were, unable to stop gazing into his blue eyes, as if there was a magnetic pull to him.

You had to remind yourself that you were in the middle of camp with other people nearby. You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from his. Micah snapped back to reality too, taking his hand off your hip and stepping away from you.

He moved over to the other side of the table, resting his weight against it. “You, uh... you wanna have a drink with me?” he asked, glancing around to see if anyone else was nearby. You focused your attention on chopping the vegetables “I can’t, Pearson has about ten other things he needs me to do”.

Micah rolled his eyes “You know, if you keep helping ‘em all the damn time then they’ll start treating you like a workhorse”.

You laughed “As if you know anything about working and pulling your weight around camp”.

“Just tryna look out for ya,” he mumbled “you’ll thank me one day”.

“I’m sure I will,” you replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice ”now shoo, you’re distracting me”. You scooped up the vegetables in your hands and turned your back to Micah, walking over to dump them into the pot of stew.

Micah let out a forced chuckle before he picked up a bottle of beer and made his way over to the campfire. A smirk spread across your face as you watched Micah gulp down his beer. Maybe this would be a good thing. If Micah was drinking alcohol then surely it'd make him tired fast. In a way, he was unknowingly sabotaging his chances of winning. You nodded to yourself as you got back to work, confident that you’d win.

10:35pm Your mind was in a cycle. Within an hour you’d go from feeling completely fine to absolutely exhausted. You had spent the last ten minutes in a daze, staring at the campfire with drooped eyelids. Out of all the days to make a bet with Micah to see who could stay awake longer, why did it have to be the day after your night shift? Micah sat at one of the tables, sipping on yet another beer. He looked normal… well, whatever normal is for Micah. Basically, he didn’t look tired.

“And that’s why you should never trust people that swim in the same water they fish in” announced Sean. You snapped out of your daze, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. “What?” you asked, completely baffled by his statement.

Sean tilted his head “Wha- have you been listening to me? I’m trying to teach you some very valuable life lessons here”.

“Yes, yes, thank you” you nodded your head, still confused but deciding to act as though you knew what the hell he was on about “that was, uh… quite something”.

A proud smile spread across Sean’s face as he stood “See, I knew you’d find that helpful”. He lifted his arms up as he stretched. “That’s me done for the night,” he let out a big yawn “I’m robbing a stage tomorrow so I need my wits about me”. You tried not to yawn too, clenching your jaw. “Good luck with that” you replied, a small yawn managing to escape.

With Sean heading off to bed, you realized that there weren’t a lot of people still awake. Micah got up and walked over to the beer crate, picking up another full bottle. You got up and followed him over.

“I told you, this is bet is going to go on for a while” he said, knowing it was you who was approaching. “I know,” you replied “but I don’t plan on giving up anytime soon”.

“You want a beer now?” he offered, lifting up another bottle. You thought about it for a few seconds “Nah, it’ll only make me sleepy”. “You sure?” he waved the bottle slightly “just one drink?”.

You knew Micah was already after having a plentiful amount of drink so no matter how sleepy the alcohol made you feel, it would have the same effects on him but sooner. “Ok,” you took the beer “but just one”.

2:23am You told yourself you were only going to have one beer and you meant that, you really did. But you were having a good time, so one beer turned to two beers, and then three, and then four.

You weren’t sure what number you were on now but the good news is that you weren’t feeling tired. You were definitely drunk but not tired.

At some point, you both decided to go for a walk along the outskirts of camp. You knew Micah must’ve felt sleepy since he was the one who suggested it, presumably to try and keep himself awake. The two of you strolled through the woods, chatting and laughing until eventually you decided to sit down by a tree. Micah sat down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders without a second thought to the action.

He was warm and surprisingly comfortable as you shuffled closer to him. You could stay there forever. You’re breathing started to slow as each blink seemed to last longer.

“So what do you want if you win this bet?” Micah asked, a relaxed smile on his face. You blinked again, this time keeping your eyes closed “Haven’t decided yet. Why, how much do you want if you win?”. You presumed Micah wanted cash if he won.

“I, um… I wasn’t going to ask for money” he revealed, his breathing getting heavier.

“What were you going to ask for?" you asked.

He hesitated, debating whether to say it or not. “I dunno…” he stalled “maybe, uh…”.

You waited patiently, too relaxed to care about how long it would take him to say it. “Maybe something like a… a kiss” he said shyly before he immediately began to backtrack “but money sound’s good".

“You… you wanted a kiss?” you opened your eyes and sat up straight to look at him. For once, Micah actually looked nervous. The flirtatious, confident front he usually portrays had completely vanished. He wasn’t sure what to say. Slowly, a smile spread across your face. “Yeah, that could be arranged” you giggled.

Micah nodded, a goofy smile on his face. You settled against Micah again, resting your head by his chest. You could hear his heart rapidly beating. “but you gotta win to get your reward” you reminded him. He chuckled, holding you close to him “And I intend to”.

“I have to admit, I thought I would’ve won this by now” you sighed, closing your eyes again. “That's not gonna happen” Micah muttered, resting his head on top of yours.

You hated how your mind wandered into thinking that this is what life would be like if you were dating Micah. You liked being this close to him, feeling his warmth and finding his breathing relaxing. Micah was an awful man yet for some reason, you found comfort in him.

You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep, finding it harder and harder to open your eyes. Just as you were about to give in to the exhaustion, you heard a noise.

It sounded like a snort and it came from the man next to you.

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying to get your brain to work. Trying your best not to disturb Micah, you moved your head up to look at him. A massive smile spread across your face as you realized Micah had drifted off to sleep.

You couldn’t believe it, he was actually sleeping. He let out another snort as he nuzzled his head closer to yours. You wanted to get up and celebrate but you also didn’t want to wake him up.

You knew in the morning he was going to argue that he didn’t fall asleep. There was no way he was going to admit that you won the bet. You wondered what you’d get for winning. A part of you wanted to ask him to buy you a drink at the saloon in town, or pay for dinner for the both of you. Either way, you had won and there was no way you were going to let him forget about this for a long, long time.

#this has been in my drafts for about a month #idk if I like it but I’m just gonna put it out there anyway lol #micah bell x reader #micah bell x you #writings #micah bell

84 notes · View notes

theyungrose · 4 years ago

Text

Mistress (Joe Anoa’i X OC)

Chapter 1

Now before you all start calling me homewrecker this and clout-chasing hoe that, you should know that started off innocent... at least at the very beginning. It was never about ruining a happy home or trying to sleep my way to a championship, even though that’s ultimately how all this will be portrayed.

The least I can do is sleep well at night knowing what I did and didn’t do. And the least you all could do is hear out the real story, not the exaggerated bullshit they spread on Twitter.

It’s actually a pretty good story.

Pictured Above: Me (said mistress) Inez Banks

Being snowed in at a hotel could either be the worst travelling experience ever, or the perfect call out excuse; it all depends on how you cut it. It was Thursday night, meaning I should be in Syracuse; as should the rest of the roster.

Where were we instead? Snowed in to the Marriott hotel 35 miles away. Or at least I was, everyone’s travelling agent is different. I’m barely a superstar though, so I basically did this to myself.

Either way, I wasn’t mad at it. At all. I’d already worked out earlier that morning, showered and did my makeup to leave at 4pm just as the snow was starting; and then I got the call from Stephanie. It was like when your school pops up on the news as closed for a snow day.

Child, when I tell you I put on my sweats and tank top so fast.

Now, it was 9pm, and it suddenly occurred to me that the hotel bar downstairs just might be open. What, you thought I was going to get blessed by this sudden off day and not get tipsy?

Walking in, the lights were low and warm like a cafe, and they played soft radio music from a speaker in the corner. I took my seat at an empty booth and waited for a waiter to come.

“How can I help you tonight miss?”

I was so busy scrolling through Twitter that I didn’t realize the waiter that came by my table, but when I looked up, it wasn’t his eyes that I caught.

Instead it was the medium brown pair watching me from the bar. They were just like mine, yet it was like I’d never seen eyes like his before. It was like being caught in headlights but not out of fear, just sheer intrigue.

“Ma’am?”

The slight impatience in my waiter’s tone snapped me back to reality, I hadn’t even realized I was staring.

“Hi... yeah sorry. Do you have Chateau Rosé?”

“Would you like a glass or a bottle.”

I couldn’t help myself. My eyes looked past the waiter again to find the same pair still staring from across the restaurant, as if they had never moved.

“...the bottle.”

I grinned softly, now finding myself completely enthralled in this stranger, who actually wasn’t that much of a stranger. Only a stranger to me because, before this moment, I’d never met him in person or seen him in passing.

Remember, I’m barely a superstar. Just a dark match competitor from NXT that occasionally shows face on live events.

That’s when he stood up. Whiskey glass in hand, he rose from his stool and started making his way over to me. I was too awkward to stare him in his face as he approached so I looked down at my phone until he was in close enough proximity.

“Can I join you?”

Even his voice could sell porn.

“Sure there ain’t no one else sitting there.”

He smirked sliding in the booth seat across from me just as the waiter returned with my bottle.

“Should I bring another cup?”

“Yes.”

Yes, we said it at the exact same time. If that’s not the cutest, corniest, cliche shit I’ve ever heard then I don’t want to hear what is. The waiter even chuckled a bit as he left to the back.

“My name’s...”

“Amara. I know.”

The shock had to be written all over my face as I looked back at him. His smirk grew wider as he toyed with the rim of my glass, eyes still intensely on me.

“Yeah... my real name’s Inez. How did you know my stage name though?”

“I’ve seen you before. A couple times actually. You’ve just never seen me see you.”

Immediately, I got wet. Have I really had this sex God in mortal man’s clothing on my body all this time and not realized it? Am I blind?

“I’m Joseph, I prefer Joe way more though. Please don’t call me Joseph.”

It was so cute how he introduced himself as if I-- (A.) didn’t already know who he was, and (B.) wasn’t already borderline obsessed with him. As is every other woman that has seen him.

Including the one reading this story.

“Okay Joe, you can just call me Inez. You can’t make many nicknames out of that ‘cuz it’s only four letters, its kinda boring.”

“I don’t think so... it’s cute actually. Unique.”

Were his eyes this intense when he talked to everyone else or was it just me? It felt like I was melting under his gaze, and in the best way possible.

“Crazy about the storm right? I got in from the gym right as it was starting, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

I nodded, watching the snow continue to fall through the wall-length windows across from us.

“Me either, but it’s so pretty... and these hotel beds are hella comfortable so I’m not the slightest bit annoyed.”

Joe’s eyes were watching me over the rim of his wine glass as I looked back at him; I really couldn’t look this man in his face when his eyes were on me. It felt like I was smiling so hard I looked stupid.

“Have you been here long? It looks pretty empty.”

“It was until I came in about an hour ago. I was actually about to leave but then... the prettiest female walked in.”

Woosh.

Use context clues to figure out what that sound means. I actually had to shift in my seat just to maintain my composure. If you put me next to a red crayon right now I swear you couldn’t tell the difference.

“And it was perfect timing too. I was so bored I actually considered driving to another city to see my friend.”

This time I smirked, now slightly more relaxed as I moved to my second glass of rose.

“Well your welcome for saving you a very cold and lonely night in your car.”

For the first time since meeting him I heard him laugh, and I was convinced that I would dedicate the rest of my life doing anything to hear that sound again.

“Much obliged princess.”

I couldn’t tell if he was saying that to flirt or if he was alluding to my ring name “Princess” Amara, so I just took it both ways. (wink wink.)

One hour stretched to two, then two reached out to three, and before either of us actually realized it was 12:15 the next morning and we were halfway through another bottle of Chateau.

“Sorry guys I’ve stretched my boss out long enough, he’s ready to close up for the night. You guys are welcome to take the bottle with you though.”

We both smiled at the waiter, he was the real MVP of the night. Joe paid for the second bottle and tipped him generously, then with his elbow locked around mine we sauntered our way slowly to the elevators. To anyone else this might’ve looked like a romantic gesture; and while it was really cute, Joe had already been drinking and the wine was starting to beat me already, so I knew it was beating him too.

“What floor is your room on?”

“One.... one plus five.”

I held up the numbers on my hands to show him, and he stared at them for a second.

“So six?”

“No goofy, that equals fifteen!”

It was a good thing we were on an elevator as loud as we were being.

“That’s not how math works sweet pea.”

We both had rooms on the top floor, and admittedly, sobriety kicked in a bit when I realized this meant I had to leave him.

“Do you know how to play cards?”

Midway down the hallway towards my room Joe’s sudden question stopped me in my tracks. I turned around to see him a couple of steps behind me.

“Yeah... yeah I know how to play cards.”

At that response Joe quickly closed the space between us, so close that I had to tilt my head up so I could see his face.

“Do you want to?”

And I was back to melting under his gaze again. This time there was no hesitation.

“Yes.”

Joe’s lips spread into a grin that covered his whole face, and I felt his hand reach down to gently grab mine. They were rough yet warm as he led me away from my door and in the opposite direction.

Tag List

@msbigredmachine @romanreigns @fatedxdestiny @thewrestlingobsessor@saccreigns @lavitabella87

#Joe Anoa'i #Joe Anoa'i X OC RomanReigns X OC #joeanoa'ifanfiction #roman reigns fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

hockeylvr59 · 4 years ago

Text

Life Changes Part 11 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.

Author's Note: Sappiness, sappiness, and more sappiness. I’m not sure what else you expected from a 31-week pregnant woman and a man who is secretly head over heels.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2,900 (Series Total: 30,199)

~~~~

In my mind, there was absolutely zero reason why I needed to be dragged to the Jersey shore when it was 80 degrees outside and I was 31 weeks pregnant. The guys had all disagreed though and refused to let me skip out on the Pink Whitney Launch Party. Still, I was the last to arrive having chosen to drive while everyone else flew in earlier in the day. Dropping my weekend bag in the bedroom where Paul’s bag was, I plopped down onto the bed, already ready to sleep even though it wasn’t even dinner time yet. I was now at the stage of pregnancy where I was hardly sleeping because I couldn’t get comfortable and because my daughter was shifting onto my bladder every time I did manage to get comfortable. I was exhausted and cranky and everyone else would just have to deal with it because they weren’t the ones who had grown to the size of a whale.

Just as I had laid down though, my phone buzzed, Paul’s message reading that I should come up to the rooftop deck when I arrived because that was where all of them were. As much as I didn’t want to, I knew that I would never hear the end of it if I didn’t so after struggling to hoist myself off of the bed, I waddled up the stairs hoping to say hi and then return back inside where at least there was air conditioning. Upon reaching the roof, my eyes went wide from shock. Pink balloons were tied around the railings and a stack of presents was on the picnic table.

“What in the world?” I found myself mumbling as a cheer took over the group at the sight of me.

“It’s a baby shower.” Grinnell voiced. “Well sorta.” Immediately my eyes filled with tears at the fact that they had even thought to put anything together for me.

“Don’t cry.” Paul murmured, appearing beside me, his hand falling to my lower back as he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “It’s just a little something. No big deal.” He insisted. He guided me to sit in one of the more comfortable chairs, quickly handing me a bottle of water. As the stack of presents was moved to the ground beside me, I could feel Paul’s eyes on my body. The weight of his gaze made me uncomfortable because the last thing I needed was more people taking note of how large I was.

My focus was shifted when a present was set on top of my bump by Whit and everyone settled back into chairs to watch me open them. By the end of my work baby shower, it was clear that my little girl was going to be decked out in spittin chiclets merchandise. The guys had gifted me everything from onesies to hats to matching pink denim jackets for the pink whitney girls. Additionally, there was a stack of children’s books and a plush hockey stick along with a few other toys. It was all so incredibly sweet and I felt so loved, even if I was still annoyed at them as sweat gathered along every crease of my skin. Just when I thought we were done, Paul handed me one more present and I opened it to find the softest stuffed rabbit.

“A bunny for dust bunny.” I breathed, tearing up once more. “Thank you,” I added, directing the comment at all of the guys though my eyes stayed locked on Paul’s. Leaning down, he moved to pull me into a hug and as he stood back up his hand rested against the side of my bump for just a moment. Almost immediately though, a sharp kick resounded from inside me, directed right at Paul’s hand and his eyes went wide. His hand didn’t move right away and a second and then third kick quickly followed the first.

“That’s…” Paul said, his voice suddenly tight.

“Okay, little one that’s enough,” I replied, my hand falling to my stomach right beside Paul’s. “I know you just wanted to say hi but that’s mama you’re beating up in there.” Though Paul pulled his hand back, a look of shock remained on his face.

“Is that the first time you’ve felt a baby kick?” I asked him, reaching my hand out for him to pull me to my feet because I had been sitting too long and needed to stretch. He nodded, still at a loss for words, and I smiled drawing his hand back to my stomach to see if it would make dust bunny kick again. It was clear she sensed the new touch because she once again responded immediately, her tiny feet shifting inside of me.

“Fuck.” Paul cursed, his eyes wet by the time he finally pulled his hand away. Seeing his reaction to her movements was a moment I doubted I’d forget any time soon but those emotions were quickly quashed by the feeling of the sun beating down on me.

“Alright...it’s time for me to go back inside. It’s too darn hot out here.” I explained. “And I don’t want to hear a word about it. When you guys are heavily pregnant during the summer, then you can throw around chirps.

______

Propped up in bed later that night, I watched as Paul lay with his head on my thigh, talking to and pressing the occasional kiss to my bump. It was so obvious that he was going to be completely wrapped around her finger once she was born if he wasn’t already and for the first time in weeks I felt an unknown tension slip out of my body.

“You’re incredible you know…” Paul whispered, lifting his head just a bit to look up at me. When my eyebrow quirked in response, Paul leaned up a little more. “I mean you’re growing another person inside of you right now. You’re providing her protection and food and oxygen and soon she’ll become her own little entity. It’s incredible.”

“Women do this all of the time,” I replied, sure it was cool and pretty incredible but it was how nature worked so it wasn’t like I was doing anything that was any more special than any other mother.

“That may be true but it’s still incredible.” Paul insisted. “Only a bit longer until she’s here.” He mused, his fingers tracing over the area where my little girl had just kicked, having watched the way my belly flexed because of her tiny feet.

“Don’t remind me.” I sighed, biting gently at my lower lip.

“What’s wrong Leigh? I thought you’d be so ready for her to be here?” He asked, his hand sliding to lace his fingers with mine.

“I am ready for her to be here.” I insisted. “I’m just not ready for the whole labor thing.”

Paul’s face went pensive, his fingers just tracing patterns against my own.

“I mean you’re going to have your mom there right?” He questioned causing me to let out an even bigger sigh.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “My mother is the queen of all worriers and I don’t know if having her there would help or just cause me more stress.” This wasn’t the first time I’d thought about this and time and time again I’d come to the same conclusion. “I guess I’m just going to be on my own.” Paul was silent for a minute, multiple emotions shifting across his face.

“Is there someone you’d want to have there?” He eventually inquired, his voice barely audible. Hints of a frown appeared on my face as what seemed impossible crossed my mind once more. It wasn’t something I’d ever ask, not after everything. “Leigh…” Paul trailed off. “Do you want me there when she’s born?” Weakly I nodded and Paul immediately sat up, pulling me against his chest as best he could.

“You make me feel calm,” I mumbled into his shoulder. “You make me feel like I can do anything.” My voice dropped significantly as I started crying into his shoulder, all of the overwhelming thoughts bubbling over the edge. “I can’t imagine doing it without you.” With his lips pressed against my temple and his hand rubbing up and down my back, eventually, I regained control of my emotions.

“I’ll make some calls in the morning okay.” He promised. “I’ll do everything in my power to be there.” With what felt like an elephant-sized weight lifted off of my shoulders I let Paul shift the two of us into our usual sleeping position, one of his knees pressed between mine as his hand rested against my stomach and his body spooned behind me providing a welcome support to my aching back.

______

When I woke, the sun was peeking through the bedroom curtains. Reaching for my phone I discovered that it was nearly 8am. Needing to pee, I slipped out from under Paul’s arm and moved to the bathroom. This was the first time in over a month I had slept through the night and it didn’t take a genius to figure out just why that was.

Slowly making my way downstairs, I found Whit sitting at the counter with a mug full of coffee in front of him.

“Want some breakfast?” I whispered planning on making up a few eggs for myself because I hadn’t had my multiple middle of the night snacks and I was starving. With the launch party scheduled from 12-4pm, I knew everyone would need to get moving sooner rather than later. A large breakfast for everyone was soon made up, and after eating, I made my way back upstairs to shower and get ready while the guys cleaned up the kitchen.

I’d slipped into my swimsuit before throwing on a maxi dress. Not long after my hair was straightened and I’d put on just some light makeup, certain that anything more would just melt off my face from the sun. However, there was still one task I needed to take care of and it happened to be the most difficult.

Twenty minutes later, I was precariously perched on the edge of the tub which contained an inch or so of water when Paul knocked on the door.

“The guys are ready to go.” He called out through the wood.

“I need a few more minutes.” I declared, my voice exasperated as I attempted to lean forward to drag the razor along the skin of my legs. After a moment the door gave way and Paul stepped into the small bathroom.

“What are you…?” He trailed off before quickly shaking his head.

“Don’t look at me like that okay,” I grumbled. “This is not easy with little miss in the way,” I complained. Another slow pass of the razor up my leg almost sent me tumbling into the tub.

“Give it here,” Paul demanded.

“I am quite capable.” I insisted, my stubbornness showing.

“Leigh just give me the damn razor before you hurt yourself,” Paul repeated, his large frame moving to sit on the lid of the toilet seat.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing.” I continued, struggling once more to reach my ankles. “I’d rather not have cuts everywhere.”

Paul ultimately won this battle, and soon I was sitting on the toilet seat while Paul balanced on the edge of the tub, his hands gently holding each of my legs in turn as he slowly and carefully pulled the razor blades along my skin. It was such an intimate action that I struggled not to shiver under his touch. When he was done, he dried my legs off before pulling me to my feet, and after a moment, my sandals were dropped in front of me so all I had to do was slide into them.

“Now are you ready?” He murmured softly, his gaze soft but teasing.

“I mean I guess so.” I sighed although today was even hotter than yesterday had been and I was not looking forward to melting under the sun. The guys complained about how long I had taken as I walked into the living room and after flipping them off I grabbed the beach bag I had packed before waddling my way out to the van New Amsterdam had sent.

____

The Jersey shore was pumping and alcohol was flowing by the time we finally arrived at the beach. Representatives from New Amsterdam met us in a staff tent and it was explained that the guys and drink would be introduced and then they would just have to mingle, chat and take pictures with fans who were trying the drink for the first time. While they did the official things, I sat in a shaded tent trying to keep my water intake up. Soon though, the guys returned and urged me to come out and socialize with people because apparently, people wanted to talk to me too. I wasn’t sure how much of that I was buying but complaining hadn’t seemed to be doing me much good so I went along with things, walking around the beach to talk to people.

Soon, the guys were pulled into a beach volleyball game. With Paul having tossed his shirt off into the sand at some point, I was met with an eyeful that sent my body temperature spiking even higher. Needing to cool down, I dumped my things somewhere safe and made my way down into the ocean, letting the cool water lap at my skin as it helped make the heat a little less unbearable.

The heat was back full force though as soon as I climbed out of the ocean and slipped back into my dress and shoes. Running back into Paul I was pulled into the conversation he was having with a group around him and soon I found myself leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped lightly around my waist. As the conversation continued, I closed my eyes and just tried to relax, feeling fatigued and overwhelmingly hot.

“Leigh?” Paul’s voice filtered through to my ears and I hummed in response. “I called your name multiple times and you didn’t respond...are you okay?” He questioned.

“Tired. Headache. Hot.” I mumbled and immediately Paul excused us from the group of fans surrounding us. I was led into a tent and Paul disappeared but when he returned I found myself being helped back into the same van as earlier. “Hmm?” I questioned, full thoughts not really forming in my brain right now.

“Taking you back to the house before you pass out from heat exhaustion,” Paul explained and it wasn’t much longer before he was leading me into the beach house, his hands providing additional balance support as I moved into our bedroom. Already the air conditioning felt wonderful and the feeling of softness along my entire body took the edge off of the achiness that lingered everywhere.

I must have fallen asleep because the sun was no longer pouring through the window when I next opened my eyes. A bottle of water and some strawberries were sitting on the bedside table. I was finishing off the bowl when Paul appeared in the doorway, concern etched into his expression.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I replied, rubbing my hand gently over my bump and smiling when I felt my little girl shift in response.

“Why didn’t you speak up sooner?” He wondered as he moved to sit beside me.

“I told you guys for weeks that it wasn’t a good idea and no one listened to me,” I mumbled. Immediately concern shifted to guilt and Paul sighed, scraping his nails over the back of his neck.

“I should have listened.” He admitted. “I’m sorry. I let my desire to see you in person drown out your wants and needs.” Shrugging, I sent him a soft smile to let him know that all was forgiven. “So I have some good news for you.” He declared, shifting topics. “The coyotes agreed to give me two weeks off. So I was thinking I’d come out a week before your due date and stay the full two weeks so hopefully, I can help you out for at least a few days once she arrives.”

The knowledge that he was willing to fly across the country to be there to support me and this little girl through labor and the first little bit after her arrival meant the world and I couldn’t control the tears pouring down my cheeks. As quickly as they fell, Paul’s thumbs were wiping them away. “I take it that works for you…” He surmised. “At least I’m hoping these are happy tears. Sometimes I can’t tell anymore with the way you start crying at the drop of a hat.” He teased.

Though he teased about my emotions going haywire, he never complained and took whatever I threw at him, letting anything negative roll right off of his back. I owed him more thank yous than I could ever say and shifting my body, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly as my little girl squirmed inside of me.

Knowing that he would be by my side made the prospect of labor a little less scary and now I was even more ready to have my little girl in my arms.

#paul bissonnette #paul bissonnette imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes imagine #former player #former player imagine #014.1

83 notes · View notes

mylifeasaserver · 4 years ago

Text

My 4th of July Weekend: Master Post

Normally I’d have broken this up into 3 separate posts, but since anything that isn’t a meme gets about 6 notes, I’ll do what I want.

July 3

8AM - My phone rings, it’s the GM calling to ask me to come in ASAP because of callouts. It goes to voicemail because I’m not waking up - much less getting out of bed - this early for what I already know will be a shit show.

10AM - Wake up, notice a voicemail. I don’t listen to it or clear the notification.

11AM - Finish scrolling through the memes and videos my friend sent me, taking care not to clear any notifications. I know what’s up here and I’m not playing.

4PM - Show up at work right at my scheduled time and am asked why I didn’t answer my phone or call back. Well [GM] I’m not paid to be on call so I do what I want. Pretend not to have seen the notification. Get a section.

4:02PM - Somehow have 8 tables in my 5 table section because the server next to me wants cut and is refusing to take his 4 tables. Alert GM to this problem.

4:04PM - Other server is all kinds of pissed off at me, but fuck him in particular.

5PM - Other server is cut, leaves without doing his side work, section, or rolling silverware. In fact, all of day shift leaves without doing their side work, meaning we have to stock while we work which is a shit sandwich all its own.

5:30PM - Get sat a party of 13. Get assigned a new server to take it with me. He disappears when we’re supposed to greet. Find out later he decided to hide in the bathroom.

5:45PM - Party of 13 has drinks, and the order is in. I’m asked why the other server’s section looks like shit. GM is displeased with my response of “the lazy ass didn’t bother cleaning it. Didn’t do his side work either.”

6:30PM - Kitchen finally gets the food out for the party of 13. New server actively avoids the 13 top, which is just as well since at this point I’m not splitting the tip with him.

7PM - 7 separate checks later, the 13 top is done and leaving. Reap the rewards of about $8 on their $200 bill. They thank me for the excellent service, but don’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under the mask. Immediately upon clearing the tables, get sat a 14 top.

7:05PM - New server comes looking for his share of the tip. I tell him to go away. No work = no tip. He runs to the night manager.

7:10PM - Night manager tells the new server he’s on the 14 top with me and he best actually serve them this time. He doesn’t. He’s still pissed off he didn’t get half of the $8.

8PM - 14 top is finishing eating, new server hasn’t been to the table a single time. He walks past, picks up a plate and makes it a point to tell the night manager he’s helped me.

8:15PM - 14 top is done paying, I reap the rewards of $15 on their $150 bill. Much like the last table the thank me for the excellent service but don’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under the mask. New server sees them hand me money and comes asking about his share. Gets the finger. In retrospect, probably shouldn’t have flipped him off on camera.

10:30PM - Last table finally leaves. New server tries to leave without doing his side work or section. He’s very displeased when he learns that night shift doesn’t do that and vows to only work day shift from now on. We all think that would be best.

11PM - Kitchen and dining rooms are finally clean and I make my escape. For all the bullshit I put up with I get about 8% on sales. The people coming in normally can’t afford to vacation in this tourist trap, but covid has dropped the rates enough for them to slither out from whatever hell that spawned them.

July 4

5PM - Show up to my host shift. This is a favor to the night manager, otherwise I’d never have done it. Seat a total of three tables in the next hour.

6:15PM - All hell breaks loose. We’re 40 people over capacity and telling people to wait outside after putting them on a wait. We have thirty takeouts waiting to come out, and people chewing my ass about having to wait. I tell them to social distance away from the podium unless they want removed from the wait list.

7PM - Wait list is at an hour. One woman in particular is having a hard time with it and looks in the dining room and sees a table with nobody at it, and demands to be sat there. No. Some tables are deliberately left empty due to social distancing. She demands a manager. I tell her no, I am the manager. I’m told what an incompetent moron I am, so I remove her from the wait list and tell her to eat somewhere else. She leaves, and takes her party of 7 with her. Not a tipping table anyway.

8PM - I help servers out by bussing and resetting their tables for them - whether they like it or not. Wait list is still an hour, many people choose not to wait and leave. I wouldn’t wait either. Some tables get tired of waiting for their food to come just leave. Kind of stupid since they waited an hour for a table, but that’s their business.

9PM - The server who yesterday leaves without doing side work or anything else orders me to stop seating him because he wants to leave. He’s told it has to come from a manager. Instead of getting the manager (Captain Hindsight) he chooses to leave his tables dirty so I can’t seat him.

9:10PM - I’ve cleared and reset and sat all 4 tables in his section. We’re still on a wait and until the Captain tells me to stop seating him, I’ll do what I’m supposed to because it pisses him off and that pleases me like you wouldn’t believe.

9:15PM - Captain Hindsight emerges from the office where she’s been hiding all evening to come chew on my ass. The server that wanted to leave whined that I sat him too fast, but neglected to mention about coming to the host stand to demand I stop seating him and not clearing his tables. When she tells me she should have expected me to screw it up I clocked out and left. My end time was in another 45 minutes, but I’m not paid enough for that level of bullshit. I tell the Captain I’m leaving so she can do a better job of it and walk out into the balmy air and go home.

July 5

5PM - I show up for my shift and am promptly pulled into the office with the GM and the Captain to explain why I left. I explain, and tell the GM that I’m not putting up with that shit. He knows. He also knows that I’m too lazy to make shit up and tells me to go get my section. I don’t know what - or if - anything else was discussed.

5:10PM - Go to the host stand to find out my section and discover I have 5 tables already. Host can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask.

5:30PM - Got the 5 tables sorted, with drinks, and orders in. Kitchen is running tickets nearly an hour long. I make sure all the tables know this up front. Discover that like always, day shift didn’t bother with side work.

6:30PM - All 5 tables finally have food, one demands a discount for waiting. Since I already know there’s no tip coming, it’s denied. He was told up front that the wait could be up to an hour, chose to stay.

7:30PM - All 5 tables have paid and left. The table that I suspected would leave no tip surprises me by leaving a whole dollar behind. Assholes.

7:45PM - I have five new tables. The last one is a 5 top. One of the women at the table - clearly the leader of this little squad of shitheads - orders a water with lemon for everybody at the table and dismisses me with a wave of her hand. I stay and tell them the featured food and what food is prepared the fastest - and let them know it’s taking about an hour for food to come out. This obviously pisses her off a bit because I didn’t scurry when she wanted. I decide that she’s Sergeant Karen, and the mental image of her being a frumpy fat drill instructor pleases me.

7:55PM - I bring the waters with lemons and begin taking food orders at the 5 top. Everybody at the table orders a drink with their food. Sergeant Karen tells me that if the food isn’t ready in 30 minutes, they’re leaving. I tell her that I can’t force her order ahead of other people, and ask if she’d just like to leave now because it won’t be ready. She says no.

8PM - Their order is in and I tell Captain Hindsight about her threat. I also tell her that she should expect to be demanded at the table.

8:05PM - Two of my five tables get their food because they ordered the things that I said cook exceptionally fast. Sergeant Karen shows me the timer on her phone already at seven minutes. I tell her that means she only has 53 minutes to go.

8:30PM - Sergeant Karen demands a manager. She can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask. I get Captain Hindsight.

8:35PM - Sergeant Karen doesn’t make good on her threat to leave, instead ordering Captain Hindsight to give them a “substantial discount” for their inconvenience. To her credit, the Captain reminds her that I said that it was an hour wait and there would be no discount.

8:40PM - Sergeant Karen makes a big display of packing up her stuff, but doesn’t actually go anywhere. Two more of my tables get their food, and the two that got their food earlier get their checks and pay. Sarge then demands to know how they got their food so fast and is immediately unhappy when I tell her it’s because they ordered the things that I said cook fastest.

8:55PM - The food arrives for the 5 top, brought out by my coworkers since I had other shit to do (fixing the mistakes of a newer server.) Sergeant Karen again demands a manager.

9PM - Captain Hindsight goes to the table and again a discount is demanded...but ultimately denied.

9:15PM - Sergeant Karen changes a diaper. On the table. While everybody is eating. It smells like a septic tank backed up into a nursing home. She then puts it under the table for reasons unknown.

9:30PM - I get two more tables, and two more get their checks. The kitchen is closer to caught up and it’s only taking about 30 minutes for food to come out.

9:45PM - Sarge hears me tell my new tables to expect about a 30 minute wait for food and again demands the manager. I flatly say “no.”

9:47PM - I drop the check at the table and Sarge complains one final time about how unfairly she was treated. She can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask, but the realization that I really don’t give a shit hits her and she passes the check to the poor bastard that married her.

10PM - The restaurant closes, and Sergeant Karen leaves. Before she goes, however, she picks up the filthy folded up diaper and drops it on the host stand. Lovely.

10:30PM - The last of my tables leave, and I discover that I made over 21% on the evening - despite Sarge making sure I got no tip from her group. This would be great but with the kitchen so backlogged I still didn’t make squat. Fuck it.

11PM - All the shit I needed to do is done. Captain Hindsight asks me what was up with that 5 top, but doesn’t see me mouthing “fuck you” at her. I just shrug my shoulders and go home.

It’s like a barely-readable story that nobody wants to scroll through. -J

#restaurant #server

37 notes · View notes

fertility-journey · 4 years ago

Text

Birth Story

We tried many natural labour inductions methods to support our due date of Wednesday 24 March including; x3 acupuncture, x2 shiatsu massage, sex, long walks, raspberry leaf tea, dates, prune juice, and spicy food.

We gave birth to a beautiful healthy boy at 7:29pm Saturday 3 April 2021 (Easter weekend) weighing 3.27kg and measuring 51cm.

Our hospital offered us a debrief session with the head nurse and potentially obstetrician.

Short version

Having done a stretch and sweep earlier in the week on Monday at 1cm dilated, we were admitted to hospital on Friday evening to commence induction with prostaglandin gel. On Saturday morning in the birthing suite my waters were broken and oxytocin commenced an hour later since I hadn’t progressed beyond 1cm dilation. I was administered an epidural so I wouldn’t feel the contractions but knew they were happening via being hooked up to an Electric Fetal Monitoring (EFM) machine. I progressed to 4cm dilation and later 8cm dilation however each vaginal exam caused baby’s heart rate to drop. This called for an emergency caesarean as it was later found baby’s head was swollen and in malposition slightly transverse. The operation caused a postpartum hemorrhage (PPH) on my uterus where I lost over 1L blood. After being wheeled into recovery, I was then able to have baby placed on me for skin to skin. Once back in the room, drugs had worn off and I could feel one slow contraction for approximately 1.5 hours which was the worst pain of my life. The days following the birth was all about recovery and breastfeeding. I had two units of blood transfusion and iron infusion to try restore my hemoglobin levels which were halved. I had managed to stand up in the shower, do a poo and by the end of the week, walk down the hallway. Breastfeeding is a challenge with no milk supply so there were many discussions about progress each day and using donor milk and formula through supplemental devices to avoid bottle feeding. We were ready to head home Thursday morning after being in the hospital for almost a week. I cannot appreciate enough having flowers in my room since I didn’t leave it for days!

Long version

On Monday 29 March being 40w5d we went into the birthing suite to do a stretch and sweep. This was very uncomfortable as I squeezed my partner’s hand and looked into his eyes. One of the midwives was helpful in reminding me about hypnobirthing breath. Our obstetrician advised that I was 1cm dilated so hopefully baby would arrive soon. The midwife showed us a stretch to help relax my pelvis.

Our obstetrician wanted us back for induction on Wednesday or Thursday because of Easter weekend however we asked to push it out until Saturday.

On Friday 2 April being 41w2d we were admitted to hospital at 4pm to be given prostaglandin induction gel at 6pm. An electrical fetal monitoring (EFM) machine is used before/during/after. This was done in our private hospital room by a midwife and was once again very uncomfortable/painful. I was still only 1cm dilated. A different midwife returned at midnight for another treatment.

The following morning, Saturday 3 April being 41w3d we went to the birthing suite to receive a final treatment of prostaglandin induction gel by the midwife at 6:30am. This time I used a small amount of gas to ease the pain. There had been no change in my dilation.

Later, around 11:30am our obstetrician came in and broke my waters. I used the gas at a higher dose to ease the pain where I saw psychedelic colours for a brief moment. We thought we’d have time from here to continue waiting for labour to occur but was informed we’d start oxytocin within the next hour. It was suggested we go walk up and down some steps outside but was influenced to get an epidural. We had written in our plan that we don’t want this suggested and if we wanted it, we’d ask for it. So since they did suggest it, I thought I mustn’t be handling the pain well from the other procedures. I also thought that this was maybe a call to surrender and go with the flow. We had no time to go do stairs since the anesthetist was already in the hospital nearby and everything had to be set up ready to go on me for him to perform. We later found out that we shouldn’t have been rushed into this decision because the anesthetist is on call and could’ve simply come back.

The anesthetist ended up coming in later so there would’ve been time to walk a few stairs. He gave me the epidural which hurt and the midwife attached a catheter. This now meant I could not get up and leave the bed and would have the EFM constantly on. One of the side affects was feeling itchy across my chest.

The oxytocin could then commence to try start contractions. I couldn’t feel contractions since I’d had the epidural but the EFM showed I was. I was getting very shakey as a side effect but because of the calm environment, I could use my breath to suppress the shakes and try send baby downwards.

A different midwife started the next shift who was caring. She did a vaginal examination which I didn’t feel because of the epidural and said I was 4cm dilated. Moving into the evening, I had reached 8cm dilation with our obstetrician performing another two vaginal exams. Each time, baby’s heart rate would lower from having his head touched.

The song ‘Waiting’ by Kian started playing from my labour playlist. I said to my partner ‘how about the name, Kian?’. A quick google showed this meant ‘grace of god’ in Sanskrit, ‘ancient’ in Irish, and ‘king’ in Persian. All beautiful meanings which were discussed under fake candlelight in our calm birthing suite.

Now at approximately 7pm, our obstetrician made the call to do an emergency caesarean due to baby’s erratic heart rate and the fact I hadn’t progress from 8cm dilation. Everything changed quickly from here as a few extra people entered the room and I was maneuvered onto a different operation bed.

I was being wheeled to theatre and when arriving on the floor, met by a different anesthetist who was saying lots of disclaimers including that this operation could result in death - just what you want to hear. I required some further drugs for the operation so she was testing that I couldn’t feel the cold ice packs being placed on my body. She commended me on how calm I was or doing a good job at faking it! I was very conscious about remaining as calm as possible to ensure things could go as smoothly as possible.

It was exceptionally cold in the theater with many people in the room since everyone has an assistant. My partner was getting changed into scrubs and allowed to enter seated beside me once everything was set up. Coldplay was being played on someone’s phone.

Though probably only 15 minutes, it felt like a long time having the operation to retrieve baby. He came out safely and my partner got to announce he’s a boy. When I saw him I just said ‘oh my god’. He arrived at 7:29pm weighing 3.27kg and 51cm long. He had a swollen head which has been in malposition slightly transverse and had tiny cut on his eyebrow from the surgery tools. I had the opportunity to give baby a kiss.

From there things changed further, the cold had caused my shaking to dramatically increase and I couldn’t control it with the same breath I’d been practicing for hours in the birth suite prior. I was given some drugs to suppress the shaking and then the side effects of this was that I started vomiting. Because all this was happening, I didn’t have the opportunity to engage with baby as I needed to focus on myself. Warm towels were placed around my head.

My partner was able to look at the placenta which had a short umbilical cord which could also be a reason why baby wasn’t coming out.

I also started to experience some blood loss where my partner and baby left the room so staff could focus on me. I had a postpartum hemorrhage (PPH) on my uterus and lost 1.2L of blood. Essentially, once the placenta is delivered, the uterus should stop pumping blood to it and contract but for some reason it didn’t do this. Because I was a low risk pregnancy, there were no previous indications this could have happened. We read later that PPH has an incidence in Australia of between 5-15% and is one of the leading causes of maternal mortality.

Because there are numerous layers to the uterus, I was injected with drugs into four corners of my uterus to stop the bleeding as it was unknown where exactly the bleeding was coming from. This gave me a throbbing headache so I think I received some other drugs to counteract that which again made me vomit. If the drugs didn’t work things would have got more surgical and escalated quickly.

Once things had settled I was wheeled into the recovery room. Someone gave me water and I couldn’t believe how good it tasted. My partner entered the area and was shirtless having done skin to skin with baby. Baby was placed on my chest and I’m sad to say it’s the last thing I wanted but logic came in knowing it was so important for us to bond and physically connect. I got upset seeing the photo of baby on me with my head turned the other way. I was exhausted.

Following this, we were wheeled back to our hospital room and pain kicked in. My uterus needed to contract to its smaller size. Rather than periods of seconds/minutes or ‘waves’, I experienced a ‘tsunami’ of a long contraction with the most pain I’ve experienced in my life. I kept yelling “Omm” and then started profusely tapping my third eye trying to stimulate my parasympathetic nervous system. My partner was concerned asking me what I was doing. I knew I had to tell him so he wouldn’t worry. It was so hard to speak that I yelled “to deal with the fucking pain” - sorry babe. My partner reckons this lasted 1.5 hours. It took a while to get the anesthetist back to administer me with morphine and then for it to kick in.

By the time everything had settled and my partner was ready to get into the bed beside me (now that I have my own hospital bed in our room) he thinks it was about 4am.

A doctor had come to put a canula in my forearm since the nurses couldn’t do it since I was too pail. This is so I could receive some kind of rehydration liquids. I also had compression socks on which were plugged into a intermittent pneumatic compression (IPC) device to keep blood flowing and ensure I didn’t get a blood clot. Some nurses tried to freshen me up with wipe cleaning on my body since I’d sweat so much from the contractions.

After a couple of hours of sleep I could eat some breakfast and then shower. I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t sit up or get myself out of bed. I was put onto a wheely chair to go to the loo where I was bleeding and be showered by a nurse. The nurse encouraged me to stand to leave the shower but I then said “I feel fainty” and fainted. The emergency button was pressed so a team of nurses came in to get me back onto the bed.

Shortly after, blood test results showed that my hemoglobin had dropped 50% from 120 pre labour to 60 now which explained why I was so pale and fainted. Apparently the minimum is 80. My obstetrician said she rarely recommends blood transfusions but believes I needed two bags which we proceeded to do that night. Later in the week I also received an iron infusion.

Overall what happened was the opposite of our birth preferences/ plan. We knew previously that an induction would lead to a cascade of intervention which is why we tried to hold off as much as we could. The hospital policy is to be induced at 41w3d. I just can’t believe that what we knew would happen, did happen. In the moment when you’re in the hospital’s care, you think it must be there right thing to do... because they know what your preferences are, so why would the recommend or suggest a practice if it wasn’t necessary or there wasn’t a problem?

The need for my body to recover has impacted my ability and confidence to produce my own breast milk which was just a constant pressure during the hospital stay. There was an overwhelming amount of professionals and nurses always entering the room to check on something or give advice on something. We relied on them to provide us with donor breast milk or formula which wasn’t always timely and was surprised to see that the meals provided weren’t postpartum nourishing. Though we weren’t allowed family or friends to visit because of Covid-19 guidelines we only just managed one hour of spare time to FaceTime family and a few friends to share the news of baby’s arrival on the Monday. Wednesday was the first time

I left the hospital room to walk up and down the corridor. Though heavily supported in the hospital (we particularly appreciate a few nurses and the head nurse), we were so ready to be discharged at 10am Thursday 8 April to get home. It had been almost one week since I’d had fresh air and been outside.

The following day Friday 9 April we announced on social media the arrival of our baby.

2 notes · View notes

silvrnightingale · 3 years ago

Text

Got fired from Subway the other day. Why? My ex-boss doesnt understand "I have no ride".

It was Tuesday, June 22nd. I woke up, glad to have the day off. My friend came over and my parents were gone. I get a text from my boss (we'll call her Mary Sue) around 10am. She asked me to come in and work from 12-5. I tell her I cant. She says "Ok", and it ends there. Or so I thought... My friend and I walk to her house for a bit (which is in a no cell-service zone). On our way back, around 4pm, I receive a text in the work group chat from Mary Sue that was sent around 2pm. She needed everyone to come in for something. I apologize and tell her I didnt get her message until just then, as I was in a no cell-service area. She tells me to come in for an hour. I tell her I have no ride. She says "Oh, well, *coworker* doesnt have a ride and he still finds a way to work". Lemme give you guys context real quick. *Coworker* has a bike and lives IN the city where our Subway is. He could get to work in less than 15 minutes. I have no bike AND I live 15 minutes away from the city our Subway is in. It's a 15 minute drive, going 70mph for half that drive. Walking to work would take me a minimum of 2 hours. 1 and half if the sun wasnt blazing and I wasnt wearing a completely black uniform. Not only that, I'd be walking down a four-lane highway, with hundreds of cars driving past going 70mph (of course, this is Texas, so most of them are going 80). Forcing me to make that journey would be endangerment of an employee. Now, back to the story. After I tell her that I was literally unable to come in, she tells me to turn in my hat and shirt. My jaw DROPS. Despite being filled with anxiety, I was also relieved. Mary Sue was manipulative as FUCK. The first time I realized this was when I talked to her about me having Sundays off for religious reasons. She tried to guilt trip me, saying that it "wasnt fair" to the other workers. She threatened to fire me for wanting to take Sundays off. Her exact words "If you cant work sundays, then you may have to find another job". I work part-time, which means my work life should revolve around my personal life, not the other way around. I guess Mary Sue doesnt know what "part-time" means,=. I told my other boss (We'll call her Amy) what happened, and she talked to Mary Sue. Mary Sue relented, but here's the thing: She HATES getting chewed out. I took a night shift one night. *Coworker (different one)* and I were cleaning, and I made sure everything was clean before we left. The next morning, Mary Sue texts me and tells me that the store was dirty when she came in the next morning (which was bullshit), and told me to do a better job of cleaning or I wont have a job. It became evident at this moment that Mary Sue hates me, and was out to get me. Last Friday, June 18th, I asked a coworker who had work the previous night's shift, if they swept the floor the previous night, as they were dirty when I walked in (I came in around 10 in the morning, one of the workers comes in at 9 to prep the store for customers). He told me that he had come in earlier that day to help prep, and that the dirt was from customers that came in before I did. I said "Oh! Okay" and left it at that. Mary Sue tried to use this against me and claimed I was "bossing coworkers around". I wasn't. I was trying to make sure stuff was getting done so that they wouldnt get in trouble the same way I did. She also claimed that I told coworkers that prepping and cleaning wasnt my job. I protested against this and told her that it's all of our jobs, and that while I wouldn't tell them what to do, I would ask them to do stuff. I ASKED. As in I would request that they do something. For example, if I were busy chopping onions, I'd ask them to cut bell peppers. She also got onto me for singing in the bathroom... 1: I only sing if I'm on break or if my shift is over 2: I'll also sing if we just finished a big lunch/dinner rush and was felt like I was about to have an anxiety attack. Singing helps me relax, and if I didnt do SOMETHING to relax and prevent an anxiety attack, I'd end up breaking down and crying in front of

customers. Also, how did she know I was singing? She had RECORDINGS. I asked her if she had cameras in the bathroom and she DIDNT RESPOND. Mary Sue is bitch-ass crazy and I'm glad to be out of there.

#subway #im glad to be gone #hope she gets fired and it gets put on her job history that she's manipulative so no one else has to go through this BULLSHIT #i hate my boss #this is bullshit #manipulative #sorry for the rant #im angry #im so tired #tired of this shit

1 note · View note

prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

Text

Mistletoe Manor - Part 4

Summary: Christmas is the most important time of year for all those who live within Mistletoe Manor. From the staff to the Hawthorne family themselves, everyone works hard to ensure that the festive season is a success every year! We invite you to see if everyone can pull off another magical Christmas at the manor this year.

Pairing: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyun, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong and OCs.

Genre: regency au / romance / christmas au

A/N: Becky ( @noona-clock ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

The requirements in the manor after the mishap at the Winter Festival meant a lot of the staff were now working two roles. For the sake of meeting the deadline, it made sense that this was happening and a lot of the villagers were also teaming up with the staff and Hawthorne family to make it work.

It was suddenly rather quiet in Mistletoe Manor, and this suited Taeyong just fine. He had been tasked to stay on with Percy, the butler, knowing between the two of them, the house would maintain its excellence in standing.

But that wasn’t without a little assistance from Taeyong himself.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Looking up from the banister Taeyong was polishing, he noticed Anna standing there. He smirked, going back to the task at hand. “Is it in your repertoire to leave such streaks? The Hawthorne’s use these stairs on the daily. I would be utterly aghast if I were them to see such a mess.”

“Su-such a mess?!” Anna echoed, shoving him aside to inspect the railing. She then turned to him, pointedly. “You’re teasing me!”

“I’m afraid not, I have merely masked your errors. Don’t you have bedding to change?” Taeyong mentioned and Anna placed her hands on her hips, making it impossible for him to keep his humour to himself. He chuckled smugly. “Will taking purchase in your sides make those hands work any faster?”

“Might I remind you, Taeyong, of your own role within this house?”

He nodded, proudly. “I am at the service of the Hawthorne’s needs.”

“You’re a footman. Not a maid.”

“I’d hope not, could you imagine me prancing around here in your outfit? It would make a sight for sore eyes!”

“Just because Percy took you under his wing since you’re too afraid of hard work out at the marketplace-”

“Now, hold up just a second-”

“Does not mean you come up in here and boss me around!”

“When did I?” he retorted, throwing down the cloth onto the banister. “I was merely minding my own business until you stuck your nose-”

“My nose?! What is so wrong with my nose?!” Anna argued, her face now glowing hot as she shoved it closer to his. Taeyong tightened his tie in order to compose himself.

They were always like this. Many referred to them as the cat and mouse of this house, their bickering constantly heard down every hallway. Even the owners of the residence were humoured by the pair, though Taeyong found Anna to be the most intolerable woman in this county.

And having her stand this close to him made him entirely uncomfortable. Jarringly stepping back, he missed his footing, stumbling down a few stairs before landing on his bottom.

Anna giggled. “Yes, now that suits you just fine. The stumbling idiot. Back to my bedding, isn’t that right?”

“ANNA!”

Throughout the day, Taeyong continued to have endless mishaps whenever he crossed paths with the maid. Anna was just as frustrated with him, glaring at him as she dropped a stack of folded towels when he had come past her carrying out the dirty laundry. She had dusted the drapes right into his line of cleaning the windows and Taeyong had stepped in her pile of cinders she removed from the parlour’s hearth.

It was chaotic and yet, as he fell back upon his bed that evening, he couldn’t help but laugh.

It had been a good day.

When the next day arrived, he was tasked with helping Anna clean the grand dining hall. After the festival began, guests would soon arrive for Christmas at the manor and more meals would be held within this room. It would need to be spotless now so they could set up for the first large meal of the holidays.

“You do the left side and I’ll do the right,” Anna instructed and Taeyong blew out an air of annoyance, moving forward towards the centre of the room instead. “Are you not listening to me? As one of the head maids in this house, I should be respected!”

“Why should I show respect to someone who belittles me at any chance she gets?”

“You’re impossible!”

“At least you know my own sentiments towards you,” Taeyong agreed, clearing off the table so he could climb on top of it.

Anna gasped. “Get down from there right this instant! You do not put your feet on a table!”

“Pray tell, how do we clean the chandelier then?” he asked bitterly, and she gestured him down, slapping at his ankle until he hopped down.

And then she groaned. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone else.”

“Word of what?”

“Crouch down so I can climb aboard your shoulders.”

“Surely standing on the table-”

“Not where the affluent sit! If they hadn’t taken the ladders to the site I would use them, now crouch down!”

“Do not blame me if I cannot hold your weight for long!”

“Perhaps you should do some more physical exercise to build up your strength then for I am not heavy.”

“Say that to someone who is not holding your entire weight upon his shoulders,” Taeyong griped and Anna sighed heavily before getting to work. For several minutes it was fine, Taeyong readjusting her when his position tired. She was almost done with one side when he began to struggle. “How much longer?”

“You can’t even handle five minutes?”

“It’s been longer than ten.”

“Even Percy could hold me longer than you.”

“Next time ask him to do so then.”

Anna glanced down at him. “Could you stand still, I’m trying to reach up to the highest part here!”

“Then hurry up and do it.”

Anna stretched further, her legs that were dangling around his waist, shifting with her lean. It threw their balance off and Taeyong doubled in half towards the table, managing to just get his hands behind her hand and back to brace her fall as he landed on top of her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Anna breathed, her eyes wide and searching his. Taeyong was stunned entirely, all his strength leaving him the longer he stared back.

And then it happened all too quickly, their lips meeting midway in a fevered kiss. It was unexpected and yet he groaned, taking more of her within his mouth until he grew breathless.

Once his lips fell away from hers, he snapped up straight, letting her fall out of his arms onto the table with a soft thud and put distance between them. “You kissed me!”

“I am certain it wasn’t just my lips working alone there, Taeyong,” she retorted, her tone too airy to be full of contempt as usual. He shot her a frazzled look, falling captive in her gaze again until the door suddenly opened.

Taeyong jolted so much that he stumbled to the ground. Percy looked at him and then smiled. “I forgot you would need this hook. It pulls down the chandeliers so you can clean them accordingly. Oh, are we quite alright in here? You both appear rather distressed. I do hope you are getting along for once.”

When the butler left the room, they scrambled to their feet, going in opposite directions to clean hastily.

On his way into the servants’ kitchen later that evening for a snack, he sighed heavily when he found Josephine sitting across from Maggie, the cook of the house. “Again, Joey?”

“My Lady, you mean!” she corrected and he rolled his eyes.

“If you come down here, then must I refer to you with any title?”

“I trust that you will not tell Mother on me for my visit,” the youngest Hawthorne requested and Taeyong merely shrugged. “Taeyong!”

“I might go to Lord Hawthorne instead.”

“You wouldn’t dare do such a wicked thing!”

“Don’t mind him, pet, he’s in a mood.”

“Whatever for?” Joey asked, looking at the man beside her. “Are you ill? Are you vexed by the happenings in the house right now?”

“Vexed, I like that word,” the cook exclaimed as she worked on the eggs she was scrambling.

“Don’t mind me, I’m processing.”

“You and Cassie are too alike. And you saw what happened there. She worked herself into a state. Tell me, as your friend I am here to assist you.”

“As a friend?” he echoed and Joey nodded adamantly. “You best not spread any gossip about this.”

“My lips are sealed!”

“Anna kissed me today,” he announced and then shook his head. “Or I did first. One of us or both of us…”

“You finally realised it?!”

Taeyong looked between Joey and the cook who was now laughing with glee. “Realised what?”

“You like each other! Goodness, is that all.”

“What, no, we despise each other! She drives me insane. What woman has the right to make me this wound up? The other day she purposely ruined my cleaning of the windows!”

“Uh-huh,” Joey murmured, still smiling to herself. “And yet you don’t seem repulsed by kissing her.”

“No… I don’t.” Taeyong groaned. “That’s why I am frustrated. I should, shouldn’t I?”

Joey shook her head. “Why, you like her so it should make your heart soar not shudder.”

“It’s about time too. I wonder who will win the wager set on this once it’s out in the open?”

“Did you choose a date too, Maggie? I sure had it pegged for after Christmas but with the rush maybe it’s brought them together.”

“You made a wager on us?!”

“Sometimes life is boring in this house,” Joey admitted with a giggle. She took his hand in hers and then patted it softly. “You really had no idea what your heart wanted, huh?”

“The bigger question is, what will you do now that you know?” Maggie asked and both women looked at him expectedly.

Taeyong sighed. “I … well, what should I do?”

After the advice of those in the kitchen, the following morning and the day of the Winter Festival, Taeyong had been tasked to finish off the dining hall before all staff could enjoy the evening off. He was anxious standing at the door to the room, and when Anna sped by without so much of a morning greeting, he questioned if Josephine’s advice had been proper.

Especially when Anna squealed from within the room.

“Look at this mess! There are petals all over the floor! We’ll be here cleaning all day long!” she exclaimed and turned as Taeyong came inside. “Did you do this on purpose?!”

“Yes -- I mean, no.”

“It is winter, where did this even come from?!”

“Well, I was permitted to take it from the indoor garden,” he mentioned softly, Anna’s brows now knitting together.

“You did this?” He nodded. “Why?”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

“It’s a mess on the floor, Taeyong! As a maid, I have to clean things like this up!” she complained and he nodded a little too much. Coming over to place the small bouquet he had been holding down on the table, he crouched to start scooping the petals up.

“Wait, you did this for me?” Anna asked as she picked up the flowers, and he glanced at her before straightening up again.

“After our kiss yesterday, I felt that there’s been a reason for our endless bickering.”

“What reason?”

He smiled; relieved to know she wasn’t aware of it either. “I believe I may have feelings for you.”

“For me?”

“Who else puts up with me as well as you?” he offered and she blinked a few times before smiling.

“You do have a point.”

“And whilst you’re the most intolerable woman I have ever met-”

“Hey!”

“I know you’ll be the only woman I ever want to meet.”

Anna eased, smiling shyly as she took in her flowers. “You did this too?”

“Is it too much?”

“No, it exactly what I expect from you. Messy yet charming. Come, we better clean up in here if we want to make it to the festival in time.”

_________________

Part 5

[Christmas 2019 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

65 notes · View notes

noona-clock · 5 years ago

Text

Mistletoe Manor - Part 7

Genre: 1900′s AU/Romance

Pairings: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyung, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong x OCs

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 | Words: 2,230

A/N: Chelle ( @prettywordsyouleft ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

“Right then, all finished,” Brian murmured to himself just after hanging up the last of Yongguk’s suit jackets in the wardrobe. He shut the door gently before bending to close and latch the trunk, sliding it underneath the bed.

A soft groan escaped his lips when he stood up again, and he reached up toward the ceiling to stretch out his arms and back. Brian casually stepped up to the window as he loosened his muscles, his eyebrows raising slightly when he saw his employer walking down the driveway with a young lady.

“Well, well, well,” he smirked. He leaned closer, his nose brushing over the cool glass as his eyes followed the pair.

And he almost let out a soft ‘aww’ when he realized his Lordship was following the young lady’s path exactly, stepping in her footsteps in the snow. It was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen, and it was then he realized he should probably get out more.

With a slight shake of his head, Brian headed out of the bedroom, planning to make his way downstairs so he could introduce himself to the rest of the staff. But he barely even got down to the end of the hallway before he ran into something much more intriguing.

A young lady was standing in front of a window, much like he had just been. She was standing on her toes, her hands pressed against the glass next to her shoulders as she peered outside.

Without making a sound, Brian crept up behind her, looking over her shoulder and raising his eyebrows.

“What are we looking at?” he whispered after a few moments.

The girl shrieked, jumping and whipping her head around to see who had just scared the living daylights out of her.

“Who are you?!” she cried with great distress.

“I’m Brian,” he told her casually. “Who are you?”

“Yes, but who are you?” she repeated, obviously growing irritated. “The name Brian means nothing to me.”

Brian reached up and clutched at his heart, lowering his head to try and hide his impish smile. “That hurts. What can I do to change that?”

“Tell me who you are,” the girl replied without missing a beat. “I’ve never seen you before, and I don’t like it when there’s something I don’t know.”

“Well, then you must be very unhappy all the time,” Brian chuckled.

The girl furrowed her brow and gave him a stern expression. “What do you mean? I’m not!”

“But how could you possibly know everything already,” he pointed out. “There’s a lot you don’t know, and you just said --”

“You know what I mean! Just tell me who you are!”

Brian’s lips pulled into a soft smirk, and then he pointed out the window at Yongguk still walking with a young lady -- hopefully one less… energetic than this one. “I came with him,” he explained. “I’m his valet.”

The girl let out a sigh and rose her eyebrows at him. “There. Was that so difficult?”

Brian rose his eyebrows right back at her before crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his chin. “And who are you? Why are you spying on his Lordship and -- whoever that girl is?”

“Because,” she spat. “That girl is my si -- my... my employer. I’m her -- her ladies maid.”

Trying his best to remain polite, Brian looked the girl up and down, taking in her appearance before letting out a single laugh of disbelief. “You’re not,” he countered.

“Am too!”

He shook his head and gestured to her dress. “A ladies maid doesn’t wear clothes this nice. And your hair is too elaborate. You’re not a ladies maid. That’s your sister, isn’t it? You’re one of them.”

The girl let out an annoyed huff before rolling her eyes. “Yes, fine,” she muttered.

“Why would you want to pretend to be a ladies maid?” Brian chuckled as he leaned against the window.

She eyed him a bit warily, though it didn’t quite seem like she was afraid or cautious. More… curious. “Well, usually, when servants find out I live here, they treat me differently. They get all ramrod straight and they bow their heads and they call me ‘My Lady’ and all that.”

“As a good servant should.”

“So… you’re not a good servant?”

Brian chuckled softly, and instead of answering, he simply asked, “What’s your name?”

The girl’s brow furrowed and, just as he had not a minute ago, she looked him up and down. Her expression was far more pointed than his had been, though.

“And why should I tell you?” she inquired testily.

“Because I told you mine!” he retorted. “It’s only fair.”

In actuality, Brian knew her name must be either Evie or Joey. Daehyun had spoken of all three sisters throughout their journey, and while he’d mentioned that Evie was the middle and Joey the youngest, Brian had no way of knowing the birth order of the girl standing before him.

If he had to guess… based on her adorable aggression… this was --

“I am Josephine,” she replied with a very supercilious tone. “And you may call me Josephine.”

“Ah, so you’re Joey,” Brian replied.

“Wh --!” Joey stammered. “How did --”

“I’ve been traveling with your sister’s husband for a year now,” Brian smirked. “I knew you had to be either Evie or Joey, and I was beginning to figure out --”

“If you already knew my name, why did you ask?!”

“Because,” he shrugged. “It’s fun watching you get upset.”

“I am not upset!” she practically shrieked. “You are just very irritating!”

“How am I irritating? I’m asking your name --”

“Yes, but you already knew my name. And I didn’t know yours, and you didn’t tell me for a long time, and that smirk, and you’re leaning against the window, and it’s all very irritating!” Joey huffed before grasping her skirts and lifting them up slightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.”

Just after she turned on her heel, Brian asked, “Where are you going, Joey?”

“That is none of your business!” she snapped. “And you will call me Josephine!”

Brian waited until she was halfway down the hall before he called out after her again. “See ya ‘round, Joey!”

When he heard her very frustrated groan, his lips curved into a huge grin.

Oh, boy. The next month was going to be utterly delightful.

“Why, hello there,” Lydia greeted with a friendly smile as she approached the bottom of the stairs. A young man she’d never seen before was currently walking down them, though he quickly returned her grin with one of his own. “Can I help you?”

“Sort of, I guess,” he answered as he slowed to a stop in front of her. “I’m Brian, Lord Yongguk’s valet. He arrived with Daehyun just today, so I thought I’d come down and introduce myself.”

“Oh! Welcome,” Lydia exclaimed as her smile widened. She bobbed a curtsy before stepping aside so she could lead him into the kitchen. “I’m Lydia, Lady Cassandra’s ladies maid.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Brian grinned.

“Come, I’ll show you around.” She hurried into the next room, Brian following closely behind her. “Everyone, this is one of our new visitors. Brian --”

“Kang. Brian Kang,” he supplied.

“He is Lord Yongguk’s valet -- Lord Daehyun’s guest.” Lydia then turned to Brian briefly before introducing everyone sitting at the table -- and the cook and her assistant puttering around the kitchen.

“...Daniel, Anna, Taeyong -- Oh!” She suddenly felt a presence at her other side, quickly turning to see who it was.

Seo Joon’s quietly intense gaze was staring back at her, and she tamped down the butterflies in her stomach so she could speak. “And -- and this is Seo Joon, the chauffeur.”

“Seo Joon,” Brian repeated, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “Brian. Just a visiting valet.”

Lydia’s eyes never left Seo Joon as she watched him shake Brian’s hand in greeting, his expression not quite friendly but not quite unfriendly.

When it seemed like Seo Joon would continue on into the kitchen, presumably for a bite to eat or a card game, Lydia turned back to Brian. “Would you like a tour?”

Seo Joon suddenly paused, and Lydia felt a hand gently grip her elbow.

“Can I see you for a second?” Seo Joon asked before Brian could respond to her question.

Lydia’s brow furrowed slightly, and she muttered, “Can it wait?”

“No, it’s pretty urgent.”

With a soft sigh, Lydia shot Brian a pleading look to which he nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

Seo Joon, not letting another second pass, tightened his grip on her elbow and led her to the next room over.

“What’s so urgent?” she asked with a soft chuckle once they’d arrived in the laundry room.

“I don’t like that guy,” Seo Joon grumbled, his gaze focused on the door rather than on her.

“Wha -- you’ve just met him, how can you not like him?!”

The chauffeur was quiet for a few moments, crossing his arms over his chest and showcasing his broad shoulders… not that Lydia noticed. Of course, not.

“There’s just something about him,” he finally answered. “I don’t like him, and I think you should stay away from him.”

Despite a small flutter in her heart, Lydia rolled her eyes. “He seemed perfectly nice to me. He’s a guest, I’m not about to be rude to him!”

“I --” Seo Joon began, but he cut himself off. He let out a soft groan and brought one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You what?” she urged with raised eyebrows.

“I just -- I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” he muttered.

“He wasn’t looking at me in any way. I was just introducing him to the other servants! You’re imagining things. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Before she could fully turn toward the door, Seo Joon’s hand darted out to stop her, grasping her wrist.

“Wait --”

Lydia didn’t shake his grip off; in fact, she had a hard time stopping herself from sliding her hand up to take his and link their fingers together. Her breath caught in her throat as she shifted her gaze up to meet his, and she found she could only manage a whisper when she said, “I’m not about to fall for him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Seo Joon let go of her wrist, his brow furrowing slightly as an expression of both guilt and relief crossed his features. “I’m not --”

But the fact he didn’t finish his sentence said everything.

Lydia curved her lips into a soft smile, and she almost reached up to cradle his cheek in her palm -- almost.

“Is there… anything else you needed to tell me?” she whispered.

Seo Joon simply shook his head.

With a nod, Lydia glided to the door and headed back to the kitchen.

“So, the name really did come first,” Brian chuckled after Lydia had relayed the story of how the manor got its name. Despite Seo Joon’s protestation, she had taken Brian on a tour of the downstairs as well as the servant’s quarters and now, since the family were all otherwise occupied, the main rooms of the manor.

“Yes, it did,” she confirmed, grinning as they exited the library. “Christmas has been very important here ever since I arrived as a housemaid. Oh, it’s been… almost ten years, I think.”

“So… you know the family well, then?”

Lydia shot Brian a playfully suspicious look before tipping her chin in a nod. “I do. ...Why do you ask?”

It was obvious Brian was deciding whether or not he should answer her question, but it only took him a few moments before he nodded to himself and said, “I met Joey earlier.”

“Ah, yes,” Lydia replied, trying to hide a smirk. “Lady Josephine. She’s not hard to miss, and very hard to forget.”

“I’ll say,” Brian chuckled. “It was somewhat of a brief meeting, but I can already tell she’s very feisty.”

“Feisty is the perfect word to describe her,” Lydia agreed. “She’s very outspoken and energetic, but she’s fiercely loving and loyal, too. You don’t want to get on her bad side, that’s for sure.”

Lydia heard an awkward chuckle escape from Brian’s lips, and she glanced over at him.

“I fear I’ve already gotten on her bad side,” he admitted.

“Oh? What did you do to poor Lady Josephine?”

“I might have… annoyed her to the point of extreme frustration.”

Lydia had to tamp her lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh, trust me. That’s not her bad side. Just between us, Joey adores being annoyed. She’ll find any reason to cut you off and storm away from you, and she does it with pleasure.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. “Oh?”

Lydia nodded knowingly. And then she added, “Actually... you might be just what she needs.”

“What do you mean?” he chuckled.

“Lady Cassandra is far too occupied with her husband now he’s returned, though she’s much too warm-hearted to ever fully annoy her sister. And Lady Evie is too quiet and immersed in her books. I think you could be the opponent she’s been waiting for.”

Lydia expected Brian to become flustered and stammer out a reply, but to her surprise, he simply smirked. And he said, “Challenge accepted.”

Part 8

54 notes · View notes

haltandcatchfiretothemax · 5 years ago

Text

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2020 #2: In which Cameron and Donna share another meal

[TW: food, eating, alcohol mention]

(CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY)

Around 4pm, Cameron decides that she’s curious about Donna’s ‘honey almond bar things’. She heads back to Donna’s kitchen (it is still ‘Donna’s kitchen’ to her, it will be a little while before Cameron thinks of it as ‘her’ or ‘my’ oven just ‘the’ kitchen), and starts poking around in the pantry. She finds the box of honey almond bars, but then she starts looking at what else is in there. She pulls out a bag of lentils, a nearly expired can of beets, an unopened jar of local honey, and the balsamic vinegar, which Donna uses regularly to dress her famous salad. She looks at everything on the counter, and then she grabs two almond bars and stuffs them in her pocket, and grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and finally heads up to the room above the garage.

“Donnaaa…” she climbs the stairs. “I needed a break from thinking about my new game idea, so I figured you probably need a break too.” She gets to the top of the stairs, and finds Donna sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by about half has many boxes as she started with, and a bunch of flattened boxes sitting in the back corner of the room. Cameron pulls one of the bars out of her pocket, and bends down slightly to offer it to Donna.

Donna frowns up at her. “My leg fell asleep! I’ve been trying to get up for ten minutes!” When Cameron does nothing in response other than making that deer-in-headlights face she makes so often, Donna cries, “Help me? Please?!”

Cameron literally drops everything to crouch down and carefully hook her arms under Donna’s, and pull her up off the floor. Donna keeps all of her weight on her right leg, and leans against Cameron to keep her balance. As soon as she’s situated, Cameron says, “Here, maybe this will help,” and reaches down and massages Donna’s left thigh.

“Oh, it’s definitely helping,” Donna arches an eyebrow.

“So I guess your dirty sense of humor didn’t fall asleep, then?”

“No. But it is really helping, thank you,” Donna says.

When the tingling is mostly gone, Donna stands on her own again, she lets go of Cameron, pulls her leg up to her chest, and then stretches and shakes it out. Melodramatically, she asks, “Is this middle age? Thinking, ‘Guess I should have warmed up before I decided to sit down and unpack a box’?”

Trying not to laugh, Cameron sits down next to the nearly forgotten honey almond bar and bottle of water, and offers them up to Donna again.

“Aw, thank you,” Donna says again, taking the almond bar. As they unwrap their snacks, Donna asks, “How’s your afternoon going? What are you up to, other than assisting your aging ‘business partner’?”

Cameron shrugs up at her, “I’m mostly just sitting around and thinking a lot?”

Donna nods, shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “A crucial part of the creative process.”

“Are you sure you don’t want some help?” Cameron looks around the room. “Or maybe that was a sign that you’ve done enough sorting for the day?”

“I’m fine,” Donna insists, opening up her bottle of water, and taking a long sip. “I can work for a couple more hours, until it gets dark. I’ve already got a few boxes ready to bring down, so maybe I’ll start doing that in a bit.”

“Okay,” Cameron sighs. “But if I don’t hear from you by 6, I’m sending up a search party. And by search party, I mean, me, I’ll check on you.”

Donna sits down between Cameron and her remaining boxes, and then leans over and kisses Cameron’s cheek. “The perfect housemate.”

Cameron kisses her back, “I try,” and gets up, dusts off her pants.

Back in the house, Cameron paces around the kitchen for a minute, and then she checks the refrigerator, and the racks where Donna keeps her onions, garlic, and potatoes. Certain that she remembers Haley and Vanessa making something with lentils, onions, and potatoes, Cameron goes into the master bath to shower and wash her hair. She uses Donna’s fancy moisturizer, gets dressed, and then she marches back down to the kitchen, and starts looking for Haley’s hand-written recipe notecards, which she finds in a plastic box near the sink. She finds the recipe she’s thinking of, preheats the oven to 400 degrees, ties on Donna’s apron, and gets to work.

An hour later, Donna passes through the kitchen as she lugs a box of reference books over to her desk. There are greens draining in the sink, a bowl of beets marinating on the counter, a pot simmering on the stove, and something fragrant roasting in the oven. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to get some take out!”

“Well, you might still want to after you taste this,” Cameron replies.

Setting the box down next to her computer, Donna says, “I’m sure it will be fine. I have a few more boxes to grab, I’ll be right back, and then maybe I can help.”

Twenty minutes later, Donna is in the kitchen again, and she sees that table is set, with two more of Donna’s nice plates, her silver candlesticks, the good flatware, two champagne flutes, Donna’s rarely used champagne bucket, and a vase of wildflowers. “I feel a little underdressed,” she pouts.

“I think you have time for a shower,” Cameron says. “Also, you maybe kind of need it.”

Donna looks down at her shirt and jeans, which are covered in dusty handprints and stripes of grime. “That sounds like a good call, I’ll be back in a minute.”

When Donna returns twenty minutes later in her favorite sweater and most expensive pair of mom jeans, Cameron is at the dining room table, setting down a large bowl. Donna joins her there, and asks, “Can I sit? Is it ready? Or is there something I can help with?”

Pulling out the chair at the head of the table for her, Cameron says, “No, everything is ready, you can relax!”

“Oh, well thank you,” Donna grins, taking her seat.

Cameron carefully lights the candles, and then she grabs the mini bottle of champagne from the bucket, opens it without incident, and pours a glass for Donna. Donna realizes that Cameron is still wearing her apron, but rather than say anything about it, she accepts her glass when Cameron hands it to her.

After she pours her own glass, Cameron finally sits down, and Donna asks, “So, what are we toasting?”

“Us, I guess?” Cameron shrugs lightly. She holds out her glass and says, “I finally got my sh*t together and moved in with you. Your house is literally my house, even it doesn’t quite feel like it yet.”

Warmly, Donna holds up her glass and says, “Yes, my house is your house.” They clink glasses, drink, and then dig into their dinner.

“Is it okay?” Cameron frets. “I promise I won’t be offended if you decide to order a pizza, or something.”

Mouth still half full, Donna says, “It’s great! It’s got goat cheese and balsamic vinegar, those are my favorite things!” Then, after swallowing her food down, she says, “Also you might not be offended but you’d be devastated if I tasted this and ordered a pizza.” Mildly scandalized, Donna promises her, “I would never, Cameron.” Somehow managing to make it look graceful, Donna then goes back to enthusiastically shoveling her food into her mouth.

Cameron gazes warmly at her, and sighs contentedly. “I’m glad you like it.”

#domestic fluff is my jam and no i will not be shamed for it!#also yes...i was hungry when i wrote most of this #femslash february #femslash february 2020 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

11 notes · View notes

prorevenge · 6 years ago

Text

Shop owner ends in hot water for being a crook

Cast: Me - yours truly, F - friend and coworker, B - boss, or bastard, you choose.

Some backstory (sorry for the long one, but there are things I need to make clear):

This happened 10 years ago. I was 18 and this was during the spring period of my junior year. I wanted to get money for a new mobile phone and a school trip to Austria, in order to practice on my German (my major was Math and German). My dad didn't want to give me the necessary 350 Euros for them, even though I was a 4.0 GPA student, calling me spoiled and selfish and asking me to get a job, just like all other normal teens at that time (actually none of my classmates were working, all were given the world by their parents for being in one of the most elite high schools in the city, but hey, you can't choose your family). So I got me a job at a local tobacco shop. It was right across my block of flats, so it was taking me 2 minutes to run from my flat to the shop, no big deal.

The owner of the shop (B) was a short man in his 40s, a man with good demeanor, or so I thought. He owned 4 other shops and needed workforce. We initially agreed for a payment of 15 Euros/day, I would work 4PM to 1AM, 4 days a week, including Saturdays and Sundays, so I would not miss on my schooling. He would pay me once every 2 weeks and even stated he would give me a raise after the first month.

The tobacco shop was selling not only tobacco products, but also alcohol, coffee, nuts, candy, chips, coke and its products etc. It allowed customers to get a cup of coffee which was freshly ground, as well as freshly squeezed orange or grapefruit juice.

So I started in the beginning of March. I was working with two other people, a 45-ish-year-old fat woman with a whining character, who would usually take the morning shifts from 6AM to 4PM and a 19-year-old beautiful girl (F). Also, I need to mention that, at that time, the store would share a toilet with a Courier service office, this is important for later.

There is one more thing I need to add - my country's labour codex states that employees must get a double payment during official holidays and also have at least 12 hours of rest between shifts. This is also important for later.

So initially I was doing fine - I did a couple of days of training, I learnt how to operate and clean the coffee machines, the juice machine, the cashier, the receipts (I needed to press Enter 3 times to enter the products in the system and take a receipt), this is important for later as well). It was quite easy, because I operated fast with money and calculations, and overall was quite trustworthy. I had some small incidents with minors who came asking for beer and cigarettes, but I would not sell the items to them, as it is illegal (my colleagues didn't care about that, but I was taught to uphold the law). Some of the frequent customers, who lived in the hood, would also initially be annoyed with me as well, because they were expecting from me to know the brand of cigarettes they smoke. Yes, there would be conversations like "two packs of my cigarettes - which brand? - Marlboro, you are supposed to know that - sorry, I only work here since recently - well, I come here every day, you should have remembered by now...". Eventually, this stopped, but I got the stink eye from some of them from time to time, because I am a sworn non-smoker, for me all cigarettes are poison, no matter the brand and the strength, and they didn't like that.

Overall, the job was not hard, and I had free Wi-Fi, so I would often bring my laptop to watch Youtube videos or listen to music online (at that time smartphones were expensive as hell and I had a regular mobile phone)

My first two fortnightly salaries were okay. I was supposed to get 120 Euros each, I got something like 110, but this was because I would get a random snack from the shop when I got hungry, and B would deduct all from my payment, which was okay. Also, B initially wanted me to add the tip to the cashier (the tip was the change (5, 10, 20 cents), which the customers would often not take and in the end it would add up to a few Euros), but we agreed for it to remain for me, as the other employees would also take it with them.

A month has passed. It was April, the days started to get warmer and B had permission to set a couple of coffee tables with chairs in front of the shop, so customers could drink their coffee and have a chat with a friend. I was instructed to take the tables and chairs back in the shop around 20:00, and a sign was posted on its front door.

So here started the problems.

After my first month I approached B for a raise, he said I was still a bit rusty and to wait at least 2 more weeks. He also gave me the contract to sign. I never got a copy, but, since this was my first job, I didn't know I needed one. I never got a raise as well, because I was "losing his customers". Bastard.

I had good relations with our colleagues at the courier office, but once I had a problem with them, because I took out the trash, but forgot to clean the juice machine. I threw the orange remains in the toilet, but one tiny piece of orange seemed to remain on the edge, so I was yelled by B and was fined 10 Euros.

There were two other times I was fined 10 Euros, for forgetting to turn the outside lights off and for forgetting to put the daily report in the shop log, but this was my fault. My second coworker would also report me for missing a trash bag or failing to put the items in the fridges in order, but she never took out the trash and never tidied up, so this actually went against her. I never had problems with F.

I had problems with some of the local customers, though. I live in a considerably poor neighbourhood and there are different types of scumbags who live there. There is this group of 10 people, in their late 40s and 50s, who are alcoholics and were sitting at the coffee tables until dark, as if this was the local pub. When I asked them to leave, because it went past 20:00 and I had to take the tables to the shop. I was yelled by them drunks and later by B as well, because I was "losing frequent customers for being rude and disrespectful to them", even though I almost ended up in a knife fight with one disgusting animal.

The cherry on the cake was the incident with an entitled mother, because she had sent her child to buy her beer and cigarettes and I refused to sell the items to him, because it is against the law. I then got a fine of 30 Euros by B and was pretty pissed.

In the last week of my work, in the beginning of June, B asked me to go and work in other shops, stating there was a sick employee and he needed me there. It was Friday, I ended up working from 15:00 to 22:00 in the local shop, then he took me to one of the other shops, where I worked from 23:00 to 08:00 on Saturday. Then he asked me to work from 23:00 to 11:00 on Sunday and wanted me to be at 16:00 in my local shop, but I refused, because I was exhausted. He threatened to not pay me extra, and we agreed to go to the shop at 19:00, after I got some sleep (I was supposed to get at least 12 hours between the shifts, as I mentioned above, but he didn't care).

After this exhausting time B wanted to change me to another shop, but I refused due to my schooling and also because I wanted to remain in the same shop. But he got some new workers and said I would not be working until the end of the week. Eventually I understood he had terminated my contract and also refused to pay me for the last 2 weeks, nearly 200 Euros in total with the extra shifts.

There are a few more things, which are important:

Some of my free days I spent with F. She was at work and I was in the shop with her, having a chat and being together, because she had some mild form of anxiety and didn't want to remain alone. During this time I noticed she used a different combination to enter the products in the system - enter, enter, 1, enter. I understood that this would enter the items in the system, but would not send the information to the receipt machine, and this would not get a receipt and thus the boss would not have to pay VAT for the items. I also understood later that he asked for everyone else to do it, everyone but me, because I wanted everything to be legal.

There was a new coworker, whom B liked and tried to seduce. He was overtly sexist and wanted to hire attractive girls, whom to pay more and to be more clingy towards them. I didn't like that at all. So the new coworker ended up being very crooked and actually stole around 400 Euros, which B blamed me for, and said he had camera recordings, but this was all bullshit.

So after all of this I was angry and wanted revenge. Initially I spoke to a friend, who advised me to report him to the local Labour Inspection office, which I did. It almost ended with a lawsuit and I was threatened by my boss this would cost me dearly, so I backed my claim, because I needed a clean legal certificate, because I was going to the Bulgarian Naval Academy in a year and didn't want to jeopardize my future. My dad got softer on me and paid for my phone and the trip, saying I earned them, because it wasn't my fault for why I didn't have the money, it was the moron of a boss.

Years have passed. I got discharged due to medical reasons and came back to my hometown. I got a new job and was living with my father, until I get better. The shop was still owned by this prick and he was going around town in a very expensive car, and I even saw him once to smoke Cohiba cigars, which usually go 15-20 Euros a piece. In the mean time he was still paying 15-20 Euros a day to the shop assistants, and I understood he was desperate for workforce.

So I decided to turn all of this against him. I knew some of the workers, as we grew up together, and they complained how much of a crook B was. I hated him for being so cheap on his employees and so large in personal spending. We started a rumour about how bad of a boss he was and to stay away from him. Word got out and he not only started losing assistants, but no one would want to ask him for a job.

One time police was nearby. Someone had broken one of the shop's large windows with a stone and stolen a large amount of cigarettes. The losses were for about a thousand euros, from what I understood. B also had to pay for a new window, and that would cost him more. Apparently, he had pissed off a lot of people.

I also suggested to some of his former employees, whom I knew vaguely, to file individual reports against B in the local Labour inspection office, like I did all those years ago. I explained they would definitely rattle his cage. A lot of reports went in, and I understood there was a major inspection of all shops. They could also use my information, but I asked them to take me off the case, I didn't want any recompense, only to watch him burn.

Eventually, B disappeared. What I understood, is that he ended up with a lot of problems, because he was charged with mistreatment of his personnel, violation of the Labour codex, felony tax evasion and a number of other charges.

So far I know that he is somewhere in the UK, while the business is handled by his brother and wife. His shops were cut in half due to the lack of workers, and I understood they were about to close another one as well. His business is not as successful as before, and I also understood it is frequently inspected.

Now, I know B didn't end up in jail, or at least I don't know about it. But I don't care. Sooner or later everyone gets what they deserve. I will not be the person to put him behind bars, but most of those people still greet me with smiles and give me updates on the case. They also thank me for giving them the idea of filing reports and using their rights. I guess I am the mastermind behind all of this, and, to be honest, I will be extremely happy, when he gets what he deserves from being a crook and a piece of trash. And the best part is - I don't have to do anything about it.

TLDR - I had a disgusting crook for a boss during my first job. He exploited me and other employees, I suggested to them to file reports against him, and he got into a lot of trouble for this.

(source) story by (/u/zerberos666)

#prorevenge #by /u/zerberos666 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

171 notes · View notes

dreamgloe · 6 years ago

Text

808s & heartbreak | chapter one

as newly minted staff producer at bighit, you are lucky for the opportunity but even luckier when you catch the artistic (and otherwise) attention of one of its most formidable artists. however, a past you’ve condemned to remain as such has threatened to drag you back out to sea.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: idolverse warnings: angst, some fluff, possible adult content in future chapters words: 10,760 author’s note: remember, side a is fic feels, side b is songs mentioned or song inspiration. this was a long time coming and eventually i’ll put a link out to a full spotify playlist. would love feedback, thoughts, asks, etc. i’m really soft for (1) min yoongi. thank u for coming to my fic and my ted talk.

It was an honest mistake.

That’s what they said anyway. But it wasn't really that honest.

After you had submitted all of your materials, you found the detail that probably should have stopped you from submitting. ‘Male. Born 1998 and after.’ Some could claim that you saw it, didn’t care, and submitted anyways. But you submitted under the songwriting category and your singing of the song wasn’t a red flag at all. Could have been your sister, a friend, anyone.

But it was you.

And when you showed up to your second round audition with nothing but a microphone, your looper, and a cascade of messy hair under a beanie--your best one you would say, you weren’t an animal--you were looked at in confusion. Everyone was too shocked to say anything as you quickly got into your song, clearly intrigued with your set up. Laying down a few quick vocal beats and harmonies over one another, you launched into the lyrics. Music was usually the one thing that didn’t provoke a stream of anxiety and apprehension.

It wasn’t hard for you to get taken away by your own music. It was only a verse and a hook but you made it feel like it lasted forever. At least, it had felt like that long to you.

‘Magical mystery nights, fairy lights. You looked at me like I was one of the sights. I always think of your soju-breath that night, And how you said our love was worth the fight.’

It was easy to pour the emotion into the song as you sang, even though you’d rather die than consider yourself a performer. Singing one of your more intimate, personal original songs was always a risk but hopefully it was one that would pay off. The moment made you think of a quote your sister would often recite to you, one by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.

“Well-behaved women rarely make history.”

You always took that quote to mean in a male dominated industry, playing it safe would never get you noticed. This moment in time could either change your life or set you back a few steps. When you finished, you used your toe to turn down the sound and turn off the looper. You couldn’t hear anything but your own breath among the silence. You were sure they would dismiss you because you were a girl and not a boy. It was a blessing and a curse that your parents gave you a unisex name.

An older man with glasses sat at the table next to a younger woman probably in her late thirties. They looked at you in silence while glancing down at the papers in front of them.

“Y/L/N Y/F/N,” the man says with a chuckle, peering over his glasses at page, presumably with your submitted information on it.

He said something into the woman next to him’s ear and she nodded before taking a few notes in her own notebook. You couldn’t hear what they said but you know what was coming. You held the microphone that connected to your looper tightly in your hand.

You took the risk...but it wasn’t paying off.

“I take it that it was you singing on your first audition tape, then?” he asked. You looked for a sign that didn’t lead to disappointment but you couldn’t read his face. You knew exactly what he was digging for.

“Yes, it was,” you said simply and honestly. You could feel yourself pressing the balls of your feet into the wooden floor below you. Another rejection under your belt, you could feel it coming. You’d auditioned for one or two other small companies, ones that were geared more towards hip hop but they went in other directions. BigHit was the only other company you really wanted to work with. You could feel your eyes prickle at the nervous anticipation buzzing through you right now

“You know the audition notice said we were looking for males, right?” he asked, the woman next to him interlocking her fingers in front of her on the table. Your hand started to sweat around the microphone while your your free hand reached up to untangle a knot at the ends of your long hair.

“I did...after it was too late,” you said, laughing at yourself, trying to smooth over the situation, “I’m obviously not very good at reading directions.” It was true. The moment you pressed send, you then realized they were only looking for males. They were obviously looking for more guys for whatever group they were trying to put together. You’d heard they were holding additional auditions just in case, even though they already had a lineup they were working with. You were in fact not male and you were born in 1996, two years old than what they were looking for. You couldn’t stand the silence from both of them, so you continued against your mind’s better judgment. “I didn’t expect to even hear back,” you said, “So when I did...I thought, why not?”

“Hmmm,” was all the man said. It was the woman’s turn to whisper something to the older man. He sighed and shuffled all his papers together.

“Despite the minor deceit, it’s obviously that you are talented. We’d love to have you meet with some of our producers and if that goes well, possibly the talent we think you’d be a great fit working with,” he said. You didn’t know if you heard had correctly but when the woman smiled at you, your stomached settled slightly and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” you say, bowing to both the man and woman.

“We will email you to set up a meeting with part of our producer team. It was really refreshing to see a talented young woman such as yourself come in,” the woman said, speaking for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile back at her. There was something in the woman’s eye that you could grasp. Pride? A common acknowledgment between women in the music industry?

You hoped it was all the above.

Your meeting with the producing team happened two weeks later. It was at 4pm on a Tuesday and you had loaded up as USB drive, your iPad, your laptop with everything you could think of bringing. You overprepared, putting all of your devices into your bulky, plain backpack. You had the ugly thing since high school and couldn’t bear to part with it. It probably had a few cough drops at the bottom from your last year of high school, maybe a granola bar hidden one of the million of pockets. But that was fine because you had everything you needed. Hopefully you’d be able to provide that to the people you’d be meeting with.

Before leaving your apartment, you looked in the mirror. You wore a royal blue sweatshirt, dark black jeans, some sleek boots with cutouts on the side. With your signature beanie--the one you wore to your audition--you knew that this was as good as you were going to get. You weren’t very girly and sometimes, you felt self-conscious about it. But you felt at your most comfortable and at ease when you were in jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. You felt cozy and you could feel your anxiety quickly slipping away. But you hated to admit that you didn’t even own a dress. You thought to yourself, though, because wasn’t like you were going to wear one or a suit of any kind to this meeting. You were meeting with music producers, for God’s sake. You still wanted to impress, though. This could be your chance to work with one of the most buzzed about music companies in the country, one that you actually admired.

And you were lucky when they didn’t kick you out at the audition for not reading directions.

You easily arrived at the Big Hit offices. When you checked in, you were given a water bottle and asked to wait. Two minutes past four, you were ushered into a conference room with six people already sitting at a sleek, modern conference table. Everyone at the table got up to shake your hand and you reciprocated, bowing in respect as you did so. After taking a seat, the woman who was in your audition came in, shut the door, and sat at the head of the table. Everyone quickly settled in for the meeting.

“Everyone, this is Y/L/N Y/F/N, the one we found through the open audition,” the woman said, smiling. A bit of excitement shifted through the group. You smiled at the group, gripping the hem of your sweatshirt tightly, needing something to hold on to in order to not just internally combust.

“Oh she’s the one that couldn’t read the audition notice?” one of the producers asks. He looks nice enough, wears glasses, and looks like he hasn’t ever worn a suit in his entire life. You try not to look embarrassed but it’s hard not to when a handful of the other producers laugh.

“Yes, she is.” the woman says, “but it’s hard to ignore talent. I know some of you have seen the tape but we’ll play it again as a quick refresher.” You wait until the lights go out and the video is pulled up to hide your face in your fingers. You hated watching yourself on tape and listening to your singing voice. The tape started up, showing you almost tripping over the cord of your looper mic.

You heard the lyrics come through the conference room speakers and you wanted to disappear. Seeing other people react to a video of you projected onto a big screen, singing a rather personal song, made your stomach clench and the breath catch in your throat. You’d hoped that someone would whisper or talk to the person next to them while the video was playing to ease the tension in your head and in your heart but everyone remained silent until the lights came back up.

“Wow,” said a voice. You saw a woman, probably the only other female producer at Big Hit. The one who went by ADORA. She definitely had been one of your inspirations to audition. The only female staff producer at Big Hit.

All the producers were starting to talk amongst one another, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sweat appearing. You looked from the female executive from your audition to the rest of the group, letting your eyes wander around the room, too embarrassed to keep your vision in one place. Why were you like this? Couldn’t even confidently take a compliment.

“I’m glad that you all could meet with Y/N today. I wanted to get everyone together to get to know her. I also asked her to bring some of her other work. I know we are about to gear up on some big projects and I thought she might be a good addition to the production team,” she continued.

A tall man sitting towards the middle raised his hand to speak, “Why don’t you play some of your work. Maybe the full length version from your audition song and maybe one of your favorites?”

“Sure,” you said, trying not to fumble with the backpack between your legs. You push yourself out to get into the bag. You grabbed your laptop, trying not to make a bunch of noise while doing so but failing, and pulled up the full length file of your audition song. Testing the volume, it’s definitely loud enough for all the producers in the room to hear it. With a quick breath, you press play. While your looper played a part in the recording, there are other instruments--guitar and piano specifically--and all the producers at the table quiet to listen.

It’s the longest two and a half minutes of your life as they listen. Your fingers drum against your thighs as the song soars to it’s climax, your nails digging a bit into them as well, palms sweaty. This song is is raw for you but that’s something you don’t want to let on.

It ends and everyone sounds and looks pleased as you look around.

It was then that you realized there was someone sitting in an armchair on the far side of the room. Arms folded over one another, bucket hat low over their eyes. But your attention is pulled away when someone else at the table speaks up.

The producer eagerly says, “What else do you have?”

You quickly sift through your media player list before stopping on a song titled “It Carries.” Your heart stops for a moment. This song is one of your favorites but it also is a painful reminder. Not just about a past you’d like to forget but a humiliation that your best friend Seoyun would tell you was not your fault. You didn’t realize that you just sat there quietly for a beat too long.

“Y/N?” the lady executive asks.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, shaking it off, “Was stuck between two…Hm, this one is called ‘It Carries.’ I actually wrote it for...an old friend. He’s the one rapping, but I wrote everything.”

Throwing your nerves into the wind, you press play, letting the 808-filled beat fill the conference room. Again the room goes silent, that that makes you nervous. Beginning vocals finish and the rap begins, you notice the person in the back of the room lean forward, elbows on their knees. It doesn’t help that you can’t see their face. They’re probably another one of the producers.

The party that wrenches your heart the most comes up and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You take a deep breath but it’s shakier than you were planning on it to be.

‘But you say “it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine Words aren’t always necessary” My heart squeezes in love and in thanks And I don’t feel as broken as before’

As it finishes, you let out a breath you didn’t realize that you were holding. There is some applause but you aren’t really paying attention. The tall producer raises his hand to quiet everyone again. “That was really amazing. You wrote those raps?” he asked.

“Yes... I wrote them,” you said, which was all you could manage. Your nerves were still bubbling.

“The flow is amazing. The rapping is good but the lyrics…” he trailed off.

“The rapper had an exceptional songwriter to help him out,” said a deep, slightly scratchy voice. It came from the person in the back, the one whose face you couldn’t see in the dimmed light of the conference room. You looked as closely from where you sat and when he raised his head, you tried not outwardly gasp.

Your complimenter was none other than Min Yoongi, Suga of BTS, one of the most well-known and spoken-about young producers in the industry. But...why was he sulking in the back of a preliminary producer meeting? Didn’t he have songs to write, press to do, anything else but sit in on your meeting? Why in the heck was he here? And he listened to some rather personal songs of yours too. Your face had never felt so hot.

“You’re absolutely right,” the female executive said, making no comment as to why the idol was sitting in the back of this meeting.

The tall producer came back around. “You’ve got an interesting point of view and I’d love to see what you can do. I work with BTS but am also overseeing the new boy group who are working towards their debut.”

You perked up a bit, your attention finally at least partly restored after having been trying really hard not to start at the international superstar just sulking in the corner of the room.

“Really?” you asked, a smile forming on your lips, your eyes moving to bulge just slightly out of your head. Was this all really happening?

“Really,” he said, smiling, “You won’t be exclusive to any team but I think you’d be a great use to many of the projects currently in the words at BigHit.” Everyone looked to be in agreement but your eyes couldn’t help but go back to Min Yoongi in the back. His arms still crossed, he didn’t have much of a reaction...despite what he said to you earlier; to be more specific, what he said about you.

The meeting started to die down and everyone was getting out of their chairs and talking. You took a sip out of your water bottle as two of the younger producers--whose names you recognized from the long list of BTS credits--included you into conversation, asking you about your influences. The rest of the time was spent talking to the two of them, as well as the other producers.

They both gave you their numbers as they mentioned they’d also be working on most of the current projects in production and that you’d be spending a lot of time together so getting to know one another would be beneficial. You wholeheartedly agreed and found them easy to talk to, quickly relaxing into the conversation. Getting to know them was like some sort of...weird reality.

You felt as if you might have to pinch yourself any second.

You were talking to one of the younger producers when they beckoned someone over. You looked over your shoulder to see Suga of BTS--Min Yoongi, if you were to be more correct in this situation--holding a soda can between his fingers. You hadn’t seen him talk to anyone until now besides the female executive from earlier.

“Hey, hyung,” one of the guys said to him, “Ready to go back to the studio?”

He turned his gaze from his drink to the producer and you could finally really see his face, even if it was still partly hidden under his hat. The first thing that definitely struck you was his eyes. Dark and intense, not that you didn’t already know that. You’d seen pictures of him, seen his performances at all the music award and variety shows. But cameras and televisions rarely captured the true reality. They were truly stunning.

It was then. It was then that it really hit you that Min Yoongi was standing a mere four feet away from you. He was perhaps one of the biggest inspirations for auditioning for Big Hit in the first place. You never really considered yourself ARMY but you respected the group and their interest in being involved in the creation of their work. Especially the rap line as they also were considered the main contributors. You admired what they and BigHit doing, what they stood for.

And you had a feeling that you were going to get to be part of it.

You tried not to visibly vibrate with excitement right in front of him. Why would you be calm and collected around him? You’d never met any idols or famous actors, singers, etc. in your entire life. It was jarring to realize that he was just hanging out in the back of the conference room while you showed some of your personal work with the producing team. You rarely shared your music with your family, let alone your friends. Seoyun, was the only one who could pry the work out of you...but usually under force or threat.

But she of all people knew what these two songs meant to you. And having a famous idol hear your work before you even knew he was in the room...it scattered your brain just a bit. You still kind of felt like an idiot, though.

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi said in a low and tired-sounding timbre.

Part of you was curious as to what they are working on and part of you kind of wanted to ask if you can tag along. But the realist side of you laughed at the idea. You haven’t been in the building more than two hours and you were already itching to know more, do more, see more. But you keep quiet because you knew it was just your excitement. Nothing like this had ever happened in your life and you’re still not even sure if it’s even real. You could wake up at any moment. It’s a dream, right?, you keep asking yourself.

It’s not. It’s the start of the rest of your life.

“Cool,” the other producer said, shoving their hands into their pockets. The water bottled crinkled a little in your hands. “It was really great meeting you, Y/N. Work calls but we’ll see you soon, yeah? I think the plan is to get into get things set up in the next week,” he continued.

“Sounds great,” you replied genuinely. The two producers turned towards Yoongi and the three of them started to leave but before they could make head way out of the conference room, the man in question turned back towards you with a hand raised in a non-moving wave.

“See you around,” he said.

“You too,” you managed to respond, returning the small wave but dropping that hand to wrap around your other wrist in front of you. You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. Your first two words to Min Yoongi. They could have been worse...or more embarrassing.

Seriously, you needed someone to slap you back to reality.

He turned around and left with the two producers. One was Shin Donghyuk--also known as Surpeme Boi--and the other was Kim Yunseo, a newer addition to the BigHit team, but you had been familiar with some of his independent work before he joined. They were going to be heavily involved in the work for the upcoming projects, both BTS’ comeback and the new boy group debut.

Tossing your finished water bottle in the appropriate bin, the female executive who rooted for you, Lee Hayoon, approached you. She had a stern yet friendly smile as she came towards you, with the producer known as ADORA in tow.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself. I see you you already met Donghyuk-ssi and Yunseo-ssi. That’s great because you’ll be working with them a lot,” she said, “We considered hiring a new slew of producers for the new group but Donghyuk insisted on working both albums. Yunseo is, after you, the newest producer. Glad to have you on the team, Y/N.”

The woman you knew to be known as ADORA smiled. “My name is Moon Eun-hye,” she said, making a small bow, “It’s so nice to have another woman on the team finally. Your work is stunning for how young you are.” You beam just a bit as you really respect her work as ADORA.

“Thank you so much. I really admired your work on the last album,” you said returning the bow, trying not to gush. Eun-hye seemed so low-key and dresses casually, much like how you usually dress. What you were currently wearing was you dressing up to impress. This girl made sweats and a ripped t-shirt look cool.

“Aw, thanks,” she said, “Seriously...I can’t wait to work with you. Us girls definitely have to stick together.” She gave you her number and the three of you talked about what was next. Hayoon said that you’d be looped in with the studio/recording coordinator to get updated on the current schedule. They’d be doing a few team dinners for the various projects that were coming up, coinciding with whatever you got placed on. Whether it was primarily the BTS comeback or the boy group debut. Hayoon assured that you’d have time to learn about the group once and if you started working with them, if that was the decision that would go first.

The get together finally died down and you said your goodbyes, only a few hours later getting various calendar invites. You’d be officially signing your contract the next time you came to BigHit. You were having your brother-in-law--a lawyer--look it over before you signed.

Those technicalities and small things were the last things on your mind. You were making your dreams come true and you were doing it on your own.

You also couldn’t wait to tell the people who loved and supported you the most.

An important event was coming up so the dance, studio, and overall rehearsal schedule was in full swing. Not only did the guys have to share a company with a new group, the company was flocking with new people and faces due to obvious and needed expansion. While they all thought that they knew everyone, there was always someone new popping out from the woodwork.

“Hey, hyung,” Jimin shouted over towards Namjoon while sitting on the floor stretching, “Did you hear about the new producer they just hired?” Both Jimin and Jungkook were fanned out on the floor, getting ready for a dance practice. Hoseok was already in front of the mirror, lightly going through the steps as usual.

“I did,” Namjoon said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know anything other than that the producer is a girl.”

Jimin and Jungkook both looked at one another. Eun-hye-noona was the only other female producer so this was an interesting development. You’d be the second female staff producer so of course you were of interest. The way you got hired, too, was definitely something that triggered a lot of attention as well.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asked as he walked over and sat down to join the rest of the youngers.

“The new producer they just hired is a girl,” Jungkook said excitedly. The four of them were talking amongst themselves while Hoseok was still working in front of the mirror, Jin was sitting on a rolling chair playing a game on his phone and Yoongi was getting some water. Shaken from his thoughts, he heard Jimin over his shoulder.

“Yoongi-hyung, do you know anything about the new girl producer?” Jimin asked, Jungkook and Taehyung hanging onto the question.

“She’s good,” he said casually, turning back to his water bottle. Exclamations erupted.

“You heard her work????” Taehyung asked, breaking the commotion.

Yoongi put the bottle down, turned around, and walked over to the four guys. They were all awash with excitement and moved in towards him as well.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked. Jimin followed, leaning his hands and arms over Jungkook’s shoulder in expectation.

“I was at the studio and Hayoon-noona asked me to sit in on a meeting,” Yoongi said, crossing his arms, looking up at towards the brim of the baseball cap on his head.

“So, she’s actually good?” Namjoon asked, looking Yoongi over in question, “I’m surprised they even met with her a second time after all that confusion.”

Yoongi whipped out his phone, deciding to pull up the song he asked Hayoon to send over to him. “She brought a looper in with her for her audition. You can’t really ignore that. It’s creative”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s actually really cool,” he said, watching Yoongi pull up the song. Namjoon called out for Jin and Hobi to come over.

“I asked Hayoon-noona to send me the song she played for us in the meeting,” Yoongi added, moving to press play.

“What is this-” Jin said before Jimin cut him off with a ‘Shhhh’

A hip hop tone with a bit of electronic and tropical flowed through the horrible iPhone speakers, filling the studio. Hobi and Jungkook immediately started moving their head and shoulders while the others listened intently.

It was the “It Carries” song that you had played the group in your meeting.

The vocals and rap line move seamlessly on top of the melody and production. Namjoon’s chin sits in his hands as he moves it along, deep in though. Yoongi doesn’t move or sway but he’s super intent on listening to the song, something he done a number of times since asking Hayoon-noona to send it to him.

“Who’s rapping?” Jimin asks. By this time, he’s moving his fingers to the beat.

“Don’t know,” Yoongi said, “He’s okay, I guess, but what’s more interesting is that she wrote all the rap and lyrics in addition to producing the song.” Namjoon and Hoseok were intrigued. “She’s only a year older than Kookie,” he said as the song came to its end. Everyone was surprised by that. Once again, they all erupted into conversation.

“Take notes, Kookie,” he said, pocketing his phone and looking pointedly at the maknae, “If you want to continue producing music…”

“Don’t come for me, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook said defiantly. The others laughed at the exchange. “Regardless....you seem to know a lot about her,” Jungkook teases. The others join in and it takes Yoongi what’s left of his energy to not say something back.

After practice ended, he ended up spending the majority of the night at the studio after Hoseok and Yunseo left. The three of them were working on a song but Yoongi wanted to to stay behind after they left.

He had been working on some tweaks for a collaboration with a huge western artist but all of a sudden, a thought came to him. A rush of inspiration had led him to his piano and he laid down a melody line. It was one of the first things he was truly proud of and something that wasn’t spurred by necessity. It was something just for him in that moment, something that brought a wide smile to his face as he reached for the soggy iced Americano on his desk.

Maybe it would be something he’d save for the next mixtape. Maybe...just maybe he wouldn’t have to wait that long.

Your family was so proud.

They had been apprehensive of you pursuing music because of the question of stability but in the end, they just wanted you to be happy. You went to university to please them, but majored in music production. They felt more secure in that choice. Sound engineers were always in demand, at least. That’s how they thought anyway. You couldn’t blame them and you did want to make them proud. But there were moments when you were sure that you knew yourself. You knew that you could never do a job that you weren’t passionate about.

You’d always been sensitive and pursuing medicine or an office job...you had a feeling ity would essentially destroy you.

You had lovely friends in university, most of whom you are still close to, but well into your second year, you met and started dating another music production major. Even thinking or saying his name was still painful, though. It had been months since you broke up and you’d begun to heal. Your heart was finally mending and your friends and music were your saving graces. You don’t know where you would be without Seoyun’s pushy behavior or your sister’s quote-laden pep talks over skype or the cave that was your music studio set up in your small studio apartment. The tail end of your relationship had caused a lot of rifts in your heart and life. While you didn’t rearrange your whole life, there were a lot of things you changed after your break up.

After appearing on a famous reality rap show and making it to the end...the funny, charming, aspiring rapper you called your boyfriend and best friend dumped you over text message.

You had relied on your family and friends a lot in the past several months. So seeing you happy about something again made them happy. You really hated being a burden to your friends and family. The idea that they worried so much about you did a number on your anxiety. All you wanted was for your parents and friends to be proud of the artist and person you were. Working for one of the most talked-about music companies in the industry was only something you’d dreamed about. Music had been your life since you were little, ever since you had begged for piano and guitar lessons. Practicing piano for hours a day was a hassle to most of your friends but to you, those lessons were the best part of your week. Guitar quickly became a second love, too.

Before this opportunity, you had seriously considered moving back with your parents, the small cafe job you had up until now barely even helping you make rent. But you knew that you’d soon be getting a paycheck from one of the most profitable companies in music. You deleted that email draft to your landlord, stating that you’d be leaving at the end of your lease.

Things were looking up in more ways than one.

In celebration, your best friend in the world, Park Seoyun, had convinced you to go out the Saturday before your first day officially at BigHit.

She was a social butterfly and had a lot of cool and influential friends. Sometimes you weren’t sure whiy she still kept you around but she did. While she was also the fun friend, she was also the mom friend. Always nagging you and making sure you were taking care of yourself, not just while you were both in university. She actually worked at one of the big companies in a coordinator position and she knew where anyone who was anything would be. Dominoing into tonight, she knew someone who could get the two of you through the VIP entrance to one of the hottest clubs in Seoul.

Clubs were never one of your things but once in a while, letting loose didn’t sound like a horrible idea. However, she’d dressed you up. You weren’t a super fashionable person. You liked a more athletic look in contrast to Seoyun’s sexy, feminine fashion sense. In your signature black, she squeezed you into a short turtleneck bodycon dress and some of her more stable, platformed boots. Heels had always been your enemy and you threw anything that had a stiletto back her way. She had to concede.

As she promised, getting in was a breeze. You were able to slink right in, of course pissing off all the people in the line that wrapped around the block. You couldn’t help but smile a little as the two of you tripped over your own feet into the club.

Your friend insisted on taking a photo before entering the VIP section, where cameras were not allowed. You did your classic peace sign near your face in front of the neon light display. You assesed yourself in a mirror nearby. You looked cute, you guessed. Cute was the most you could muster. Sexy? Don’t even try, you’d tell yourself. Seoyun had a claim on that territory already. But you were fine with being cute. Sexy wasn’t something you actively tried to achieve. After touching up, you two made your way over to the VIP section. Seoyun made flirty small talk with the bouncer and the two of you were in there in seconds.

Yeah, there were definitely celebrities littering the area. Seoyun even walked right up to some actor that you recognized but couldn’t name….and they knew one another. You weren’t surprised as you took the hand the tall, handsome actor offered when greeting you. “Y/L/N, Y/N?”

“Uh, hi. How did you know my name?” you asked., honestly a little incredulous.

“Honestly Y/N, he went to school with us,” she said. Your eyes widened because you didn’t remember him. “It’s fine, you didn’t go out a lot. You may not know him.”

You rolled your eyes at her and apologized to him but you still smile a little because it was true. You had been too busy with your music and...your boyfriend. Maybe if you took your social life a little more seriously while in university, you’d have been friends with the actor too. Seoyun was your first year roommate and despite the two of you being soul twins, you both really were so different. Jisoo had been kind enough to get the three of you drinks so for a moment, he disappeared.

Seoyun stiffened and it caught you off-guard. What was she looking at? “Don’t look over your right shoulder are your new neighbors,” You scrunch your nose in confusion but quickly look, trying to mask it as a scratch.

“I said don’t look!” your friend screamed through her teeth and you quickly whip your head back in her direction in response to her order.

“Calm down,” you said, “Who’s there?” You were surprised any of them were there. They were notoriously absent from the party scene. At least, that’s what Seoyun said. Then again, so were you. At least you had that in common.

“Them. I think all of them,” she said but not sounding so sure, just as the actor--Lee Jisoo, whose name you just remembered--came back with three drinks. You definitely did see that drama with him in it. You had definitely watched the whole thing, too. He smiled at both of you as you clink your glasses together.

“Who’s here?” Jisoo asks after taking a sip. You suddenly feel awkward but Seoyun is quick to gab.

“BTS,” she said. Jisoo looked over and nodded with a thoughtful pout.

“I rarely see them out. Surprised, staff is loosening the reins,” he said. However, it didn’t look like they were being bothered by anyone. It was probably nice for them, you thought, that the could go out and blow off some steam without being harassed once in while.

“It just so happens that Y/N here is getting signed to BigHit,” she says after taking a large gulp of her drink. You gave her a look. Your contract wasn’t even signed yet and you didn’t want anything risking it but you let it go because on the other hand, your socially connected best friend was proud as hell of you.

“I’ll be working on various projects as a producer,” you say, keeping it that, just in case. You didn’t want anything to harm the signing of your contract. But you were proud. You were very excited. Jisoo congratulated you, said that he knew a few of the boys, and then laughed at something else Seoyun said. Sometimes you were jealous of her since she had such an easy way with people. You were the opposite most of the time. You were really shy until you eased yourself into the situation and got more comfortable. You had never been the type to just go up to people you didn’t know but you adapted quickly once you slotted in and often fed off the energy of others.

Continuing to talk, the three of you had managed to shift your standing positions so that the group was now at the edge of your peripheral. You didn’t want to go over and disturb them. Besides, you had only ever been introduced to Yoongi and that was only for a millisecond. You couldn’t even see Yoongi at the moment but what if he was there and he saw you and you saw him and he thought it was rude that you didn’t come over? You were used to overthinking things so you were hoping that even the smallest of sips would help ease the anxiety settling into the pit of your stomach like squishy rocks.

Why were you like this? Ugh.

You continued to flit in and out of the conversation with Seoyun and Jisoo and the feeling of them within your peripheral. Something unexpected happened instead. Two of members approached the three of you. Mid-sip you tried not to choke on the large gulp you just took.

“It’s Y/L/N, Y/N, right?” says the shorter of the two who approached. You were almost 100% certain that was Kim Taehyung. A large, wide smile and impeccable style. The taller, you knew, was Kim Namjoon, the leader of the group. You knew that for sure. But wait a minute, how---? How did they knew you were you? You looked around for a moment but still didn’t see Yoongi.

“Yes,” you said, your glass still held tightly between your fingers, “Hi.” You were glad that you managed at least those two words. He smiled at you and there was something about him that eased whatever nerves you had before. It was true. He didn’t look human in real life. You smile and make yourself take a deep breath. You’d likely be working with the group soon on their upcoming album. In a way, they were kind of your co-workers? Being nervous around them wasn’t going to make anything easier.

“It’s nice to actually meet you. We’ve heard a bit about you,” Namjoon chimes in, shaking your hand, followed by Tae. The two of them also introduce themselves to Seoyun and Jisoo, though Taehyung knew Jisoo as an acquaintance through mutual friends. The five of you fell into conversation and it wasn’t long before Jimin came and joined, introducing himself to you and your group.

“We loved your song, by the way,” Jimin said enthusiastically, “That hook…” Your eyes widened a little as you subconsciously pulled your lips in between your teeth, a small smile tearing at the corners. Some of the most celebrated artists in the industry loved your work. Sometimes, this kind of validation could be enough to drag you out of your shy comfort zone.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you said, “Which song?” You were doing all you could to not visibly shake. Park Jimin had the voice of an angel and if you were lucky enough to keep impressing BigHit, he might end up singing your work.

“I think it was “It Carries”?” Jimin said, calling over your shoulder, “Yoongi-hyung, Y/N’s song you played for us...it was “It Carries,” right?” You turned over your shoulder a little too quickly, hitting Jisoo in the face with your hair. You muttered a quick sorry to him. They’d passed around your song. God, your face couldn’t be any warmer, right?

“Yeah,” he said, expressionless, holding three drinks, “that’s the one.” You forced yourself to breathe again. That song had been hard enough to show to the group as it was personal. The fact that the whole group had heard it caused your heart to palpitate. You knew that Hayoon had a copy of it but the idea that someone you didn’t know might have it on their computer or on their phone or in their texts...it was still a little unnerving. A compliment, likely, but still unnerving.

Yoongi moved to hand the three of his group members drinks, which they accepted. “Nice to see you again,” he said to you, shaking his bangs out of his face. There were his eyes again. Soft despite his monotone. He sounded sincere but not overzealous or as if he was saying it to be polite. He was dressed nicely in a simple black blazer, black t-shirt and black jeans. Simple. Unlike what they usually wore for press, concerts, etc.

“You too,” you say in response, feeling yourself ease a little, taking another sip. He seemed perfectly relaxed, as if playing your song for everyone was just the most casual thing he could do...while across from him, your stomach was in knots. However, part of you felt at ease because he took it so casually, as if this whole thing wasn’t changing your life. As if all of this was natural. It was a paradox you couldn’t quite keep away from.

Seoyun who was having a good time, raised her glass. “Just want to make a quick toast to Y/N’s first day on Monday. I have a very hard-working, tireless, and multi-talented best friend,” she said, smiling and leaning into Jisoo just a bit. Your best friend was sweet but a bit of a lightweight, “Cheers to Y/N!!!” Everyone in the circle smiled and joined in.

The rest of the night flew by in a fun frenzy and the three of you ended up joining the group at their booth. You met Hoseok, Jin, and Jungkook shortly after, the three of them working their way through the fancy handle of Grey Goose vodka among their assorted bottle service. Hoseok was definitely the most tipsy and when a song he loved came on, he even pulled Seoyun and yourself in to dance. He was twirling you both around playfully and jokingly, but still managing to dance with more grace than anyone you personally knew.

When Hoseok released the two of you for a break, you found yourself deep in conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi while Seoyun managed to find herself flirting with both Jin and Jisoo. Namjoon and Yoongi both seemed interested in your music taste. They asked you about your musical influences and you found it really nice that they were just as nerdy about music as you were. For a moment, you could have gone to high school with them, as if they might have been in orchestra with you or jazz band.

“Epik High, Missy Elliott, Lady Sovereign, Beyoncé, CL....hands down of all time,” you said and as you took another sip of your drink, it finally made that awful slurping noise. You’d hit ice. Both Yoongi and Namjoon enthusiastically said that Epik High was one of their biggest inspirations to be rappers.

“Do you rap?” Namjoon asked and you couldn’t help be shake your head no. Performing was not in your wheelhouse. God, your audition was nerve wracking enough. Performing in front of hundreds of people? No thank you.

“No, not at all,” you said, “But I like to write them.”

“Like your song,” Yoongi said,, “That was a beautiful rap. You definitely could, if you wanted to.” You softened at the words coming out of his mouth and then some more when Namjoon agreed.

“Yu obviously have amazing musicality. Just like this one here,” Namjoon said, motioning at Yoongi. Yoongi just raised his shoulders the tiniest bit in response. An acknowledgment rather than an agreement.

Namjoon then asked you what you were currently listening to but you were interrupted for a second as Yoongi took the drink from you, leaning down towards the large low table, presumably to top you off.

You quickly snapped back to what Namjoon was saying. “Oh, lately I’ve been listening to WOODZ, Jvcki Wai, and I love Robyn’s newest album,” you say.

“I like Jvcki’s lyrics. Very aggressive flow, too,” Namjoon says enthusiastically and you nod in agreement.

“She doesn’t take prisoners. I think what she is doing is really cool,” you add, “Especially as a woman in hip hop.” You think of her song ‘Anti-’ All your friends really liked music but you were so excited to be working at a company where everyone had the same passion.

“People think she uses a lot of autotune but that’s actually usually just her voice,” you say with a laugh. Both Namjoon and Yoongi smile at your comment, the second handing you a newly made drink.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the tumbler from his hands. A small smile appeared on Yoongi’s lips as he finished making himself another drink. “Lady Sovereign, though?” he asked and you know he’s making fun of you.

“What can I say? My ten year old self was obsessed,” you say, smiling and thinking about the time you dressed up as her for a costume party in elementary school. The few small braids, the side ponytail, and tracksuit were still a look. Taking another gulp of your drink, you were trying to remember which number you were on. You could feel the alcohol in your cheeks at this point. You were tall for a girl and usually you weren’t much of a lightweight. You could handle your liquor but you’d always feel it in your face two drinks in. The feeling was comfortable but the thought of looking drunker than you were was not.

“I was curious, though,” Namjoon said all of a sudden, “Who was the rapper on your track?” You froze for a second for responding just a little too quickly. “An old friend,” you said, perhaps a little colder than you meant. You were trying to convince yourself that your reaction was due to the alcohol, but your face gave away everything.

“Oh, he sounds kind of familiar. That’s the only reason I ask,” Namjoon said and if he caught on to your demeanor change, he didn’t let on. It wouldn’t be surprising if Namjoon had heard of your boyfriend. He did win a huge rap reality show.

As you took another sip, Seoyun came over, dragging Jisoo and Jin with her. Jin was very drunk and leaning onto Seoyun, earning him an annoyed look from Jisoo. “So, I think the plan is for us to ditch and go get yangnyeom tongdak in say...five minutes?” he said, looking at his watch, a fancy digital contraption that flashed 1:00 AM. Wow, you didn’t realize how much time flew by.

Yoongi was the first to reply, as if relieved. “Sounds great to me,” he said, taking the happiest sip of alcohol you thought you’d ever seen. He then drained the whole thing, practically slamming it onto the table, and wiped his mouth with the side of thumb. “Ready!!” He exclaimed, smile on his face. You looked at him in the eye and there was a silent agreement when both of your eyes met.

Food > Clubbing.

Jin, despite how drunk he was, managed to coral all seven boys plus the three of you into the van waiting for you at the back of the club. Everyone toppled in with Seoyun strung out across Jisoo, Jin, and Jungkook in the back. Yoongi shuffled in, helping you up, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin pulling in the rear. The four of them squeezed together and grabbed you to lay out similarly to Seoyun. Taehyung and Hoseok held onto your torso while your head ended up awkwardly pressed against Yoongi’s armpit. You laughed as they hoisted you up, making sure you were comfortable.

The buzz was hanging high in your head and you could hear Seoyun, Hoseok, and Jungkook singing to “thank u, next” as it started on the van speakers. You didn’t sing but every time “next” was said, you punched the air above you with your palms. Minutes and several songs later, the van stopped and both Seoyun and you were hoisted out of the car. Yoongi and Hoseok gave you a hand out, and then lead you through the dark back entrance of the chicken place. All of you stumbled into a large room in the back, not completely closed off from the main restaurant but private enough where no one would know they were back there unless they went looking.

Sliding along the modern wooden bench in your dress proved difficult, Seoyun and Jisoo fumbling in next to you while Yoongi slid his legs through the opening between the table and bench, managing it without making too much of a ruckus. Jin and Yoongi ended up across from one another, both excitedly together. They ordered what seems like a feast for 25 people--not the ten actually there--and as they went through a list that included sweet and spicy chicken, honey garlic chicken, bulgogi flavored chicken, french fries, pickled raddish, and tteokbokki, you finally hear your stomach growling. It didn’t evade Yoongi and Jin’s ears. ��Wow that was loud,” you say, trying to laugh it off, a little too drunk to be completely embarrassed. Jin immediately said to their waitress to make it fast as “the lady is hungry.”

Beer and soju arrive and despite the fact you don’t think you can fit any more alcohol in your body. Jin and Jimin challenge everyone to shots of soju and you managed to find more space in your stomach. Not the heaviest of drinkers, you quickly get more comfortable in your surroundings and you finally get the up the courage to pry. You turn to Yoongi and straight up ask him, “What were you working on with Donghyuk-sunbae and Yunseo-sunbae?” Yoongi finished his shot of soju, putting the glass back down on the table with a loud click, then crossed his arms on the ledge of the table.

“Group number for the new album,” he answered, his voice low and a bit slurred, “Trying to decide if we should do something nostalgic or something different. The concept is a lot...dirtier this time? I guess that’s the best way to describe it?” You mimic his arm position without realizing it, leaning onto the edge of the table in front of you. “Why not both?”

Your question makes him laugh. “How would we do that?” he asked, split between confused and curious. You could feel the gears in your brain start to turn. Figuring out the feel of songs you wanted to work on was one of the best parts in your opinion; thinking about what you wanted to convey was a rush. You had an idea of what you were trying to say but fuck it if he laughed it.

“Just think about it, okay,” you say, weirdly proud of yourself, “Do You Think It Makes Sense? meets ‘Tear.’ Maybe really bring out that R&B feel. Hmmmm...there is this really good sample from ‘Gossip Fools’ by Missy Elliott featuring Ludacris, actually.”

“You really dug into the library on that first song,” he said with a smirk. You can’t help but smile. It was true and you had done some refreshing on the BTS library in the last few weeks. Of course, you’d always been familiar with them but the song was a few years old. He looked at you for a moment, contemplating something. It wasn’t a lie that he made you nervous, but the alcohol was helping….for the both of you apparently. “Play the sample,” he said, looking pointedly at your phone.

“What?” you ask, as in...really, dude? But you’re reaching for you phone. You pull up your library and he takes his phone from you and clips the song, which is now playing on full volume. A few of the guys stop talking and look over. Immediately Hoseok starts moving to it and shouts, “MIIIIIIISSSY!!!”

“But slowed down a bit, I think?” you added, and you look at Yoongi’s face and a few gears of his appear to be turning. He turns down the speed to 0.75 instead of normal. Soon enough, they all seem interested in what’s going on. “Definitely more dirty if you slow it down,” you say, without really thinking what you’re saying and a little louder than you mean to.

The guys burst into laughter and it takes everything in you to not just sink into a puddle beneath the table. You’re could feel all the blood rush to your face. “Just an idea,” you say smally, putting your arms back in your lap. Hoseok starts rapping along to it and after a moment, you can’t help but lightly join. You loved Missy.

Everyone eventually went back to their conversations while Yoongi and you ended up pouring over your music library, smirking at a few embarrassing entries. He even convinced you to play some some random things you’d been working on, including a few piano ramblings. You also mentioned that you also had played guitar since childhood. Piano was your favorite though, you admitted, and he smiled warmly at that and agreed. It was a little off-putting, his smile. It didn’t fit his preapproved aura but it looked so nice among his features. After ribbing you for having “The Shape of My Heart” by the Backstreet Boys on your Spotify’s “Most Recent,” you two eventually looked up to see that food had arrived and everyone was eating. The both of you were quick to pile your plates with chicken and tteokbokki.

You’d never met anyone as passionate about music as you and even though you were sure it was the liquid courage talking, you felt comfortable talking to the rapper. Despite what public decreed his personality to be, it didn’t feel like that when the two of you gushed over the use of vintage 808s. With a mouth full of sweet and spicy chicken, no less. Maybe it was because you could relate and not just on a musical level. You weren’t as outgoing as Seoyun, who was currently threatening to throw a rice cake at Jin, her personality counterpart. You felt at home in your own head and maybe that made you shy in regards to others’ standards. But...sometimes it was moments like these that you felt free enough to talk to someone you admired without getting nervous, without letting your nerves completely immobilize your ability to communicate.

Fuck, you ate too quickly. Part of you just wanted to lay down on your own plate, but there you were...taking another bite of rice cake, trying as you might to fit two whole ones in your mouth. After a moment, Yoongi’s low voice and shoulder jolted you out of your food and beer trance. “Yeah?” you said, mouth full of rice cake.

“Would you want to work on something?” he asked, straight-faced.

A chunk of rice cake might just have fallen out of your mouth at his question. You tried not to look too mortified when he couldn’t contain his laughter. God, you were hopeless. “Um, work on something?” you asked, sure that you couldn’t have heard right.

“With me, yeah. No thoughts on what but...even for fun? Just in general?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free, ringed hand, both of which were turning red due to alcohol. Not that you were clued in enough to notice. Your eyes weren’t even focusing anywhere because you might still have been in shock. But you felt the heat in your face and a fluttering in your heart. There was part of you that couldn’t help but stare. This was was more conversation than you would have expected between the two of you.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, scrambling with a napkin to pick up the rice cake that had hit the table in a bright red splat. You wrapped it up and set it to the side. Did you really hear correctly? Did you just say yes, too? Everything was a little buzzy and raw in your head right at that moment. This whole experience...getting hired by BigHit had sent everything into hyperdrive.

Were your dreams really coming true?

“I would love that,” you couldn’t help by say. You went for another rice cake, careful to keep it from dropping from your chopsticks. Stuffing it into your mouth without caring what you looked like, you sighed. Late night drunk eating was the best. “Almost as much as this rice cake,” you add, grabbing another with and sliding the bowl closer to Yoongi, so he didn’t have to reach over.

“I’ll be honest. I’m honored,” he said, smiling, “This place has the best tteokbokki.” He dug in for some as well and the two continued to chat mostly about what you two were listening to at the moment, even joining in with the group on other topics that were a-buzz at the moment. Jungkook even hopped up to take a group photo of everyone and then a long selfie shot of the group. You leaned over the table to get past Seoyun, Yoongi leaning even farther but his face still ended up getting partially cut off by your head.

It was getting really late and while Yoongi told you the guys didn’t have a schedule tomorrow, they all had things that they probably should get done. They insisted on dropping Seoyun, Jisoo, and yourself off at your place before getting on their way. From there, you left Seoyun and Jisoo at the door to go their separate ways as you made your way up to your studio apartment. Your heart was beating really quickly but you weren’t sure if it was from the several flights of stairs you ascended or the adrenaline that was currently keeping you awake.

Everything felt fumbly as you made your way around your apartment to get ready for bed. You could have just passed out cold in your going-out clothes, crossbody still strapped to your body. However, you managed to peel everything off and throw it on the floor before you threw on the PJ’s you laid out on your bed in preparation. Quickly, you could feel a headache trying to form so you grabbed a large bottle of water from your fridge and placed it on your nightstand. You knew that if you chugged a bunch you’d be fine in the morning. After getting part of your nighttime routine in, you practically swan dived under the covers, and cocooned yourself in the large down comforter.

Maybe all of tonight was a dream and you had just been in your bed for the last several hours. You didn’t fall asleep for at least an hour because you couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling, trying to put all your thoughts together. You were getting to do what you loved for a living. A trailblazing company took a chance on you after you failed to read instructions on a songwriting submission. But...you would wake up the next day to the text Yoongi sent to you so that you would have his number.

Yeah, that wasn’t a dream at all.

YOU [11:21 AM]: how’s the hangover? SEOYUN [11:30 AM] not great ugh YOU [11:31 AM]: sorry, babe !! drink some ginger ale and have an ibuprofen and go back to sleep. SEOYUN [11:33 AM]: yes, mom. YOU [11:34 AM]: jisoo and you were getting pretty close last night? is it a thing or is it going to be a thing, etc? :eyes emoji: SEOYUN [11:34 AM]: not a thing yeT! i do really like him. doesn’t hurt that he’s fine as hell! YOU [11:34 AM] what about seokjin? i saw jisoo giving him a dirty look…. SEOYUN [11:35 AM]: let’s just blame my drunk self for being too friendly, ok? YOU [11:36 AM]: ah, i cannot imagine a life where boys fight over me. what’s it like in seoyun world? SEOYUN [11:37]: very funny, y/n. not fighting over me, seokjin’s just very friendly and he was very intoxicated. as i just said, so was i! YOU [11:38 AM]: both would be very lucky to have your attention. <3 SEOYUN [11:40 AM] :sobbing emoji: i have the sweetest bff. don’t make me cry, i’m already nauseous. YOU [11:41 AM]: :angel emoji: SEOYUN [11:43 AM] but the real question is...what did you and yoongi talk about so much, huddled at the end of the table? hmmm? YOU [11:43 AM]: ah, music! just nerdy producer stuff, really…. SEOYUN [11:44 AM]: hmmmmm, interesting…. YOU [11:45 AM]: why is that interesting? SEOYUN [11:45 AM]: no reason, you two just looked cozy. YOU [11:47 AM]: COME ON!! don’t stir the pot seoyunnn SEOYUN [11:47 AM]: if there is an typhoon brewing, no need for me to stir >:) YOU [11:48 AM]: i hate you. this is my first big girl job. Even if there was anything--WHICH THERE ISN’T--risking the opportunity would be the last thing I would do. SEOYUN [11:49 AM]: lying isn’t a good look for you. YOU [11:50 AM]: seriously, though, seoyun! we just nerded out. we were discussing a song he’s currently working on and i played him that missy elliott sample. that song she did with ludacris. SEOYUN [11:51 AM]: let’s just pretend i know what you are talking about. YOU [11:52 AM]: it was fun but we were both really drunk. he asked me if i wanted to work on something with him but i’m just chalking it up to ‘commitments made drunk,’ a common theme among drunk people. SEOYUN [11:55 AM] well, good luck and hopefully he remembers. regardless, i have a very talented best friend and he’d be lucky to work on something with you. :) YOU [11:56 AM]: :blush emoji: sleep tight and let me know if you need me to bring you soup. SEOYUN [11:56 AM]: aweeee. ;;;;;; love you xx

214 notes · View notes